In a gay love triangle, everyone gets poked, but nobody is happy
Walking down Hillhouse to get your flu shot at DUH, you see your former flame holding hands with his new significant other; his other hand grips a wad of condoms. Anyone with an ex at Yale learns quickly that the love triangle is an awkward shape.
Putting myself in the shoes of a heterosexual female: what am I supposed to think every time I look at that skank currently screwing the former love of my life?
She's fat. Her laugh sounds like a giraffe dying. I heard she borrowed mascara from some random dirty ho and it gave her herpes of the eye. She has scars between her...
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