To the cute girl at the mall Saturday night with the big hole in her jeans and pink cell phone: I work again Wednesday.

Hey, KSU Recycling, I think it’s time to empty the recycling bin outside Jardine building 7. It’s a little full.

I have showered with the elusive redheaded Irishman.

To Katie at the Motion City Soundtrack concert in Lawrence on Saturday: Will you marry me?

Dear Fourum, I just wanted to let you know that I completed my conquest.

To the boy on the bike that I let go past, but he didn’t go: I agree.

To the boy I made out with this weekend: I forgot to mention I was sick.

I’m a dog in a video game.

Hey, I’m really sorry your friend left his date at the bar, but would you mind saving the socializing for the frat and the studying for Hale?

Hey, Pike, if you’re missing something, you might want to check your backyard neighbor’s front yard.

To the girl who yelled at me in her friend’s car outside Arby’s Friday night: Shave your mustache, please.

My goal in life is to have my name in the Fourum.

Hey, it’s me again. Sorry about that. It’s inappropriate. I know I shouldn’t talk to you like that.

Turns out Facebook actually works.

I just got tickled by a giant banana.

Is it bad to blare White Light’s music through my phone, seeing as I am White Light?

And on the third day, Superman’s father took the Kryptonite and circumcised his son.

I didn’t think eating cat would be this bad.

Is it a bad thing that girls prefer to ride in back of my trunk?

How many times do I have to light my hand on fire for you to get a good picture? 12?

Pants optional.

Hey, pedestrians, they give you a huge sidewalk for a reason. Stay out of the bike lane.

Everyone who talks to the Fourum like it’s a person should be tarred and feathered, shot and thrown into the street.

My cousin got TSS. I was shocked.

To the girl by Goodnow: Honey, there are better uses for silicone.

To the kid in my calc class with the blue Independence shirt: I hope someday I’m as cool as you think you are.

John Churchill.

I worked out at the Rec today, except I never made it inside. I was too busy trying to find a parking meter that still had minutes.

To the guy playing guitar outside of West: random strums don’t count as playing and it’s creepy.

To the one girl who is not a cheating whore: I’m the one guy who is not a douche bag. The only problem is the Fourum is anonymous.

To the boys who I met Saturday night that helped make my birthday awesome: thank you.

My roommate is a ninja.

Seriously, if that ugly couple makes out again, I’m going to punch them both in the back of the head.

K-State football players: quit walking around like you’re so tough. You guys did terrible.