“I wonder what it’s like to not be us.” TSM.

The “I’m sorry for all the drunk Snapchats” Sunday morning apology. TSM.

So many themes. So little time. TSM.

Only being interested in a transfer student if he’s interested in going Greek. TSM.

I’m not drunk. I just can’t feel anything. TSM.

Never lifting a finger, but carrying two Starbucks and a half gallon of vodka up four flights of stairs with ease. TSM.

All of the doodles in your notebook being sorority-related. TSM.

Even when we’re not having fun, we’re still having more fun than you. TSM.

“Though we adore men individually, we agree that as a group they’re rather stupid.” TSM.