Send lawyers, guns, and money
Dad get me out of this

You’ve partied like there’s no tomorrow. You and your bros drunk, smoked, snorted and fucked your way through the whole semester. You sat on the wall in front of the house and rated chicks. You had a pig party. You took road trips and tailgated and pissed in the fountain over at State. You vomited in the hedges at Homecoming. You dressed pledges up in blackface and led them around Quad on leashes. You duct-taped a nerd to a tree. You made a fuckton of cash selling weed and blow to the plebs.

You vaguely remember going to a few classes, although you actually overslept your two o’clock once. And the only time you went to the library was to hit on girls.

It was epic. But today finals start. You sit as far in the back as you can. You read the first question. And you have no fucking idea what you’re looking at.

You glance around at your bros. No help coming there – Mitchie and Paulie and Georgie and Dickie and Seanie and Mnooch are as lost as you are.

You’re fucked.

That’s the Republican Party this morning.

Welcome to the Fall of Rome