camo cowboy hat, yellow wind breaker, silver handbag? island heights never looked so good... eagerly watching a band only playing songs off the shrek soundtrack fail.

the original foamy success.

so that girl at the tacky uarts party had a shitty pleather bag, and awkwardly so did this outstanding citizen. one of the gremiest looking trolls at makos, and thats really saying something. grungy bitch fail.

Multipilicity. now let me state this early on, individually each of these outfits (besides the navy dress coupled with the black satin sling backs) is fine, nice even. however, it is entirely unnecessary for you and your 2 friends to go out wearing the same thing. 3 lace dresses in one group? no. sort it out. and stop posing, you look like dick heads.

not much to say about this. i dont really think it needs, nor merits much defination. the only thing i think ill point out is that this specimen lacks a y chromosome, terrifying.

this is a fun picture. just your average group of girls wearing copious amounts of blue eyeshadow and patterned overalls. what would compel anyone whose not either a hooker, stripper or from the mid80's, or maybe training to be any of the aforemetioned, to do something so ridiculous? so blue... so joyceleslie-esque...so heinous... i dont know whats worse, the turtle neck and overalls or immensely blue eyeshadow matched with bleached hair, ill let you come to your own conclusions.

Dinosaurs Chew in a Circular Motion

so this one time, these people took us into their home, gave us their nice real people beers (ie not like the pbr which i am currently consuming) then after or during all this while we were telling stories i was compelled to draw on the wall. of their house. of the home of 3 grown men. so i did. i drew a massive probably accurately to scale map of the world, in permanant sharpee marker right on a wall in the focal point of their home. the very center of their kitchen. success, unquestionable. stout-like foam

so this one time we were walking home from julies house to my house because im a baby and for some reason think its safer for julie to walk back into south philly then for me to leave south philly. anyway we were walking by this house and these people realized that their party desperately needed some cooling-up if you will, so they coaxed us with free beer. the party sucked, a uarts party filled with obnoxious freshpeople, terrible luckily we found this little gem to brighten our day. a red strapless satin dress with a chino belt topped off with your standard patent leather motorcycle-esque combat boots not to mention the fushia plether purse and turquoise earrings. what a hero. the most honorable of all epic fails goes to our freshmen-foul. bless.
i feel like i shouldnt even be allowed to use words. as julie just noted the best thing about this tender moment is that these people thought they were posing for a picture for the newspaper, really? on a blackberry? taken by a crazy looking drunk chick playing pong on a make shift bar table? whatever i guess when you feel inspired to wear teal satin explosions for shirts and a plether ultra-mini, like i like my minis, seriously big fan rock'em if you can, but really, make sure you can...also make sure the mini your attempting to rock doesnt have a jean zipper making it look like a muddjeans knock off, would someone do that? at least after shaming herself with her bootilicious mini she was prepared to walk through some sort of a suburban flood with her shin boots? yeah shin-lengthed boots. epic fail to the point where strangers are willing to become involved in the inevitable on-line shaming. great shaming.

"this is all fucking jargin" famous last words of julie, yet somehow they seem to relate to this picture. maybe because jerms looks confused? i dont know its man/boy thing wearing a womens hat holding some sort of a stein like device. this picture earns a fail becuase while these shmuckers were at the german place of fake year-long oktoberfest my birthday was happening... and...it was a bowie party, germans or bowie? obvious. fail.