William B.
William B. by Cheap and rusty car guy November 11, 2019
Get the William B. mug.
William B
William B by Baby RRrRRicky June 19, 2018
William B. Travis high school
Fucking cancer. Pray you never get sent there. With such a bad rabbit effect, few white people, (with the ones that are there being racist) and a useless ass teaching staff, honestly one of the shittiest schools, with one of the highest suicide rates.
Boy 1: "You went to William B. Travis high school? Jesus Christ you dropped out didn't you."
Boy 2: "Too many blacks. Sister committed suicide. Couldn't handle the rabbit effect as most of the women there are straight up whores. Fuck that school man."
Boy 2: "Too many blacks. Sister committed suicide. Couldn't handle the rabbit effect as most of the women there are straight up whores. Fuck that school man."
William B. Travis high school by Fuck you dick face March 10, 2017
breatharian
breatharian by leena gabor November 8, 2005
Word of the Day on June 3, 2026
A Booger In The Nose Of Progress
"Militarily, that inquest was a booger in the nose of progress."
or
"As far as human rights are concerned, this political infighting is a booger in the nose of progress."
or
"As far as human rights are concerned, this political infighting is a booger in the nose of progress."
A Booger In The Nose Of Progress by Rok'n'rol Wannabe October 19, 2006
Word of the Day on June 2, 2026
fogey
Fogey/fogy /fougi/ sl. (early 18C+, orig. Scot) old-fashioned, stuck-in-the mud.
Person with old fashioned ideas which he is unwilling to change: Come to the disco and stop being such an old fogey!
Person with old fashioned ideas which he is unwilling to change: Come to the disco and stop being such an old fogey!
You think me an old fogeyand an old tory, his thoughtful voice said. I saw three generations since O’Connel’s time. I remember the famine. Do you know that the orange lodges agitated for repeal of the union twenty years before O’Connel did or before the prelates of your communion denounced him as a demagogue? You fenians forget some things. (James Joyce, Ulysses. Penguin Books,1992. p. 38)