If you're reading this at all you're probably just, like soooo totally flungover (haha puns are just the best!) in bed on Sunday evening and are reflecting back on the 48 (or 72… or 96+) hours of flingin' flangin' fun you forgot to remember. So we, encourage you, try realllllly hard to remember.
Did you do anything that will get you thrown in The Gutter? (We hope so.) Did you send in your most flung out texts from last Fling to Under the Button? Better yet, did you "accidentally" send a shoutout about your ex to your ex? Geez, you're awkward. More importantly, did you use us to wipe up the massive amounts of liquid that flew out of your mouth at projectile speed? No worries if you did. (Most of the names on the bottom of this page have been guilty of that at one point or another.)
If you kept track of your phone, hopefully you checked out our Fling mecca conveniently located at 34st.com/fling. Even if you lost your phone in the bunny pen, who cares because you really did have the BEST FLING EVER! Right?
I mean, isn't that the point? To play chubby bunny with 15 fried Oreos? To make a pit stop on every side street party as you parade to the Quad? To stumble over srat girls in neon fanny packs and bro tanks? Yes, friends. This is Fling.
No matter if you live for the petting zoo or refuse to enter the five block radius surrounding the Quad, the time has come to succumb to the Fling gods.
Here's to sunshine,