Fuck this guy. So glad he graduated so I don't have to see his leather-jacket wearing, chain-cigarette-smoking, frat-boy smirking, thirty year-old but still hitting on sorority girls, insecure piece of good-looking man in my classes anymore. Or on my month-long trips to England. Thank you very much, GQ, for reminding me of what I no longer have to deal with. But, no, he is definitely not the next James Dean. Don't insult a legend like that.
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