Indiana, OUR Indiana NOT YOUR INDIANAS, BUT OURSZZ!!
wees juss can't get enuff of sweetsweetsweetB-town and the ranch sauce farts that come with it. you can't smell farts on the interwebs, but assume that ours smell raunchy and ranchy and we never stop lettin them rip until we leave the sorta-no-so-great state of Indiana
we know this sounds crazy coming from a 9 year NYC transplant and eater of the finest za from Cali to Chicago to Italy but Pizza Express may juss be the bestest pizza in the world
3 ranch sauces are never enuff esp since we're gunning to become the 2nd person arrested for farting
we like munching boxes
and the contents within cheese stix = cheese shitz
are we licking ranch sauce or drooling it? praise Jeebus for inventing ranch sauce!
and praise whomever wrote this book if only 'I Heart Ranch Dressing' was the new 'I Heart NY'
and praise these white guys who are the only thing whiter than ranch sauce
and praise these $2 shirts of our ex-B-ball coach that should be sent to Nicaragua along with the Pats Super Bowl tees
and praise this scary looking guy(?) who isn't as cool as fellow IU swimmer Mark Spitz
this is what a dishwasher looks like in college free lemonade!
and spank the Messiah of Ranch Sauce that we did cause he's the effin bestestetsstst/sweatiestest ever! czech out this Star Wars bit he does and peas go see him when he hits yo town
oh bless you college where the a$$es are forever young
