One of the things I miss most about college are the road trips.  They didn’t have to be the biggest road trips in the world.  Sometimes it was as little as heading down to Gulf Shores Alabama (I went to school in Louisiana).  And on occasions we’d trek eight hours to Georgia.

But if there was one thing that you know you’d wind up doing after you reached your destination, it was partying your ass off.  Why?  Because you drove all that way and you’ve only got 36 hours to make it count before you gotta go to class again.

And let me tell you, if I were to haul myself down to the University of Arizona, this chick and her boyfriend would be my ideal hosts.

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