Life Sans Pants

I’ll just pack a punch.

I HATE PACKING!

Pardon me for starting this post out so violently, but I just couldn’t hold back. Other than remaining tidy, there is nothing that I hate more than having to pack. I think it may all stem from my inability to make quick decisions, but regardless of the reason, it doesn’t make me hate it less.

I don’t know how to choose what articles of clothing to bring wherever I go. If I’m just traveling in Ohio, you’d think it’d be easy to prepare for the weather, but since Ohio’s weather is just as bipolar as my “concrete” decision making skills, shit gets frustrating real fast. I’ll pick out a few outfits, pack them away and pat myself on the back for getting it done so quickly, then I’ll start imagining scenarios in which I’d need entirely different types of clothing, and BOOM. Just like that, my whole suitcase gets dumped onto the floor to begin anew.

The forecast says it’ll be 75 degrees and sunny, but there’s a 20 percent chance of rain. Should I bring a raincoat? Jeans? Closed-toe shoes? Will that 20 percent change to 80 in the next 12 hours? I’ll just pack it all just in case!

And soon enough, my suitcase that was meant to carry 3 days worth of clothing weighs 100 pounds.

AND DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ABOUT LONG-TERM TRIPS! Do you have any idea how INFURIATING it is to try and pack ONE suitcase with clothes to last you 3 months?! Holy hell. Throw in the fact that I’m packing to go to a country that I’ve only spent two days at ever before in my life, and it quickly becomes a panicked frenzy in my room. I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO BRING.

When I pack, I just lay out my clothes and stare at them. Sometimes I hope that they’ll sprout little mouths and yell, “pick me, pick me!” just to make the process a little quicker. (If you were wondering, no, this doesn’t actually work. Or help. At all.)

And if you’re traveling on an airplane and you have to check a bag, then you obviously know that there’s a weight limit for suitcases. I can definitely confirm that it takes no time at all to go over that limit.. and then picking what clothes to TAKE OUT to make the suitcase lighter… good god. I just can’t. That’s like asking a mom to leave her least favorite kid behind. You just can’t risk insulting them! I’m sorry beautiful, sexy black dress, but I’m going to a funeral this weekend and I think it may be best to leave the sex appeal behind… UGH. Sacrifices. So hard.

So.. here I sit. Staring at my still-empty suitcase with a closet full of clothing that won’t all fit in there. I’m either going to close my eyes and just pick… or I’m going to have a hefty extra fee to pay as I’m checking my overweight bag at the airport. Based on past experiences, I bet it’ll be the latter.

DECISIONS ARE HARD.

Dime piece. Money for the poor.

Money. Do you know why I hate money? Mostly because I don’t have any 99% of the time, and in those rare moments that I do, I have to spend it on something stupid like monthly rent or a tire pump for my bicycle that I ride once a month. And do you know why I only ride my bike once a month? Because it rains five days out of the week in Athens, and also because my scrawny ass can’t handle pushing that bike up the enormous hills that lead up to my apartment complex. Screw you, Appalachia.

So, since I do not have money and I’m losing it faster than I’m finding quarters in my pockets, that’s what I’m going to bitch about. Specifically, the same topic that I’ve been bitching about for the past month now: Life sans bus pass.

As most of you know, I’m in the top percentile of laziest Americans. If I can’t reach something from where I’m sitting, it’s no longer important to have. Knowing this, I’m sure you’ll be shocked to hear that a few weeks ago, I voluntarily decided to begin working out on the daily. Now, before you start choking on your food, please know that this brief stint with voluntary exercise has passed just as quickly as it began. But I stopped working out for a reason: I have to walk to and from campus every single day now that I can’t afford a $60 bus pass. That’s a total of 2 miles every day, not to mention the added bonus of having to walk up the most obnoxiously steep hill/driveway I’ve ever seen in my life. The good thing is that I’m still getting daily exercise and in return for walking up these Everest-style hills, my ass is looking pretty damn fine too. But looking death in the eye every day is kind of getting old..

Here’s a breakdown of the complaints that I mutter every day to those of you who have the misfortune to have to listen to me audibly huff and puff my disdain:

1) SIXTY DOLLARS FOR A BUS PASS!? I would pay that much if that counted towards all three quarters, but 60 bucks for each quarter? You jerk offs are off your rocker. For those of us whose mommy and daddy aren’t slipping money into our bank accounts weekly, that’s outrageous! Where does my super expensive rent money go if not toward the cost of transportation too?! Shit.

2) Lately, it’s been 30 degrees in the morning, then 60 degrees by the time I’m ready to head home. If you only knew how much more difficult that makes planning an outfit…

3) Speaking of heading home, there’s nothing better than climbing Mt. Everest, getting all nice and sweaty and sexy once you reach the top, only to have to climb up four flights of stairs to get to your apartment. In hindsight, I shouldn’t have chosen the top floor. I’ve become quite familiar with the sensation of almost fainting.

4) Fuck you, bikers. You always sneak up on me when I’m walking down the sidewalk and scare the shit out of me! Get a damn bell so I know you’re coming! So many near-misses and almost casualties..

5) Try crossing a round-a-bout on foot. Every day. During the busiest times of each day. I dare you. It’s like playing chicken with the cars. It’s amazing that I’m still alive.

6) I have to leave for class SO early just because the walk takes me 20-25 minutes. Fuck that.

7) Not enough crosswalks.

8) The looks of pity I get from passersby are enough to make me want to punch a baby. Especially on rainy days. If you feel so bad for me, give me a ride, dammit!

9) Don’t you dare try to compare your walk to campus to mine. You will have a tennis shoe shoved up your ass so quickly you won’t know what hit you.

10) Commuting shoes don’t go with every outfit. But if you don’t stop judging how ridiculous I look in a suit and tennis shoes, the above threat applies to this too. It is not logical to walk a mile in high heels (which I found out the first week of walking), so I switch shoes once I get to class. But since you judgmental douchers don’t realize how I get to campus every day and you only see me prior to switching shoes, you resort to the “Oh, my gosh. What is that girl WEARING?!” kind of comments on first glance. Well, fuck you and the feet you strolled in on. Don’t make me break your legs.

To sum it all up, living so far from campus sucks when you’re too stingy to buy a bus pass because you have other important things to spend your money on. You know, like groceries or something. Which I still haven’t bought in a month.. Spent 85 cents on six eggs though! Pinching pennies sucks, folks. And so does listening to me complain every day. But I’m not sorry for you in the least bit.

Facebook explained.

I like to think that I’ve learned a lot in my 21 years of existence. But let’s be honest.. Facebook has obviously taught me all I will ever need to know in life. And if you haven’t caught on to the hidden messages in Facebook etiquette.. (excuse me while I interject in my own post, but I failed to capitalize the word, “Facebook,” and when I spell-checked.. it literally corrected me to the proper way to spell Facebook….. SERIOUSLY?! Facebook is a recognized word now that needs to be properly capitalized or the spell-check officers will give you a red squiggly line?!?! WOW.) ANYWAY. If you don’t know Facebook, what planet are you from? Here, alien weirdos. Let me break down the details for ya.

1.) If someone “likes” your profile picture, then that probably means that they either want to fuck you or they want to BE you. Either way, it’s some backhanded compliment and you should feel a sense of honor.. even if your better judgment doesn’t agree with this obvious truth.

2.) If you post 800 pictures of yourself in a week, chances are people will think you’re a self-absorbed bitch craving attention and will say so under their breath as another one of your pictures pops up on their newsfeed. But nevertheless, you’ll still probably get a “like” out of it, so you needn’t worry.

3.) Make sure Facebook knows your birthday or nobody else will either.

4.) It’s not a real relationship if it’s not “Facebook official.” OBVIOUSLY.

5.) If you post more than two statuses in one day, someone will inevitably call you out on it and tell you “that’s what Twitter is for.” Obviously all social networking sites have their own purpose.. you know, to social network in different ways.

6.) If you have 1,000+ Facebook friends, you’re probably the most popular person in the entire world. Or you have a bunch of people you don’t know who have access to your personal page.. and that’s NOT creepy at all. So glad you included your current address in your info section. And hey, thanks for including your exact location every time you post a new status too. It makes it easier for the rapists, murderers and psychos to find you.

7.) If someone removes you as their friend, BITCH, YOU GOT SERVED. That’s like, totally the biggest insult of all time! Deleting someone as your Facebook friend is the ultimate real-life defriending moment of the world. Obviously if you’re not good enough to be Facebook friends (keep in mind that they have 1000+ Facebook friends and chose to delete YOU), then you obviously can’t be real life friends. OWNED. Bet you feel REALLY terrible about your life now, don’t you? So glad you got that message loud and clear.

8.) People will like you more if you post your political and religious beliefs on your wall multiple times a day. Your opinion is extremely valuable and will help change the mind of thousands of individuals. You’re such a blessing.

9.) Song of the day? No. Enough. Don’t tell me what music to listen to every day.

10.) You will gain so much support if you constantly and continuously post degrading, self-pitying posts about your life on your wall. Aw, you had a bad day?! Oh, my! Please, let me drop everything and take a moment out of my life to tell you how special and important you are in this world. Look, if people don’t care in person, they’re not going to give a damn on Facebook either. Shut up.

11.) If you hashtag on Facebook, expect someone to call you out on that too. And reference Twitter. Get that crap out of my newsfeed, yo! Dis ain’t TWITTA, FOOL.

12.) Your cover photo tells me sooo much about your personality. Thanks for that awesome abstract picture of some… thing. It’s so interesting and informative and makes me like you even more.

13.) Nobody cares about grammar on Facebook. Either that or Facebook is just really good at flagging the morons in the Facebook realm. Your? OH! You mean YOU ARE. Go back to second grade, idiot.

14.) Editing your pictures makes you look so much prettier. Please, keep doing it.

15.) You look even cooler holding that beer in your profile picture. I want to be just like you when I turn 15.

Honestly, I’m just whining about unnecessary things. But people have invested so much of their lives in Facebook.. that I just couldn’t resist doing this. Am I missing anything? I probably am. But seriously, people. Get your priorities straight! Besides, I only use Facebook to creep on other people whose lives suck so much in comparison to my own that I just walk away feeling that much more better about myself. Thanks for inflating my ego even more. That’s just what I need.

Screw you, Zuckerberg. I’m going back to AOL instant messaging. A/S/L ?????

NOBODY CARES (stfu).

This world we live in.. no, maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m the only one stuck in this ultra weird, just-my-luck kind of world, and all you lucky a-holes out there are peachy keen. But regardless, here is my thought today:

I have the weirdest luck ever. I do believe in luck. That’s not to say that I don’t believe in cause and effect too, but for some things.. I have trouble determining what could’ve caused or led up to what eventually happened to me. I would say “allow me to explain,” but you know I’m going to whether you want me to or not. So. Yeah.

I’m in an intro-level philosophy class this quarter (yes, I’m THAT student. You know, the upperclassmen in a predominantly freshmen class. Shut up.). Now, this class has got to have more than 200 students since it’s just a general lecture class. By now, you’re all probably well aware of how easily annoyed I am, and how quickly someone can set me off into a long-winded, bullshit rant. Well, that’s exactly what happened today. There’s this ONE GUY in the class who always has an opinion about everything, and always has to speak up whenever an opportunity presents itself. I’m pretty sure there’s a person like this in every giant lecture class, but they normally don’t make themselves known on the second day of class. But this guy, oh, he’s BOLD. He not only asks questions constantly, but he even goes so far as to paraphrase what the teacher just said.. simply to demonstrate that hey, HE understands what’s being taught. Aren’t you just soooo cool, man. If only I could be as intelligent as you! So while I’m sitting there silently fuming to myself and forcing myself not to raise my own hand just to tell this guy to shut the hell up, I focus on my own thoughts and notes and try to block him out of my mind. I just know he and I are going to be best friends by the end of these 10 weeks…

So, this two hour class finally ends and I decide that I will swing by the cafe and grab a salad for lunch and take it home before the bus comes ( a.) because I don’t have food in my house, and b.) because I’m a loser who rides a bus to campus). Excuse my tangent, but the salads offered this quarter suck, and I’m extremely disappointed in the selection. ANYWAY, I leave class and make my way to my destination, solo and determined. I hop on the down escalator and BAM! The annoying guy from my class is right behind me! Well, fancy that luck, huh? And I would’ve just let it go after that, except THIS GUY decided to TALK TO ME. Can’t you tell by my expression on my face that I do NOT want to make small talk with you, you annoying twat?? Apparently not. And what I find even more interesting is that HE RECOGNIZED ME. I believe that means one of two things: 1) I’m either so damn sexy that there’s no way you’d miss me among 200+ students in a lecture hall, or 2) you saw me glaring at you from across the room. Actually, I suppose there’s a third option: you’re just creepy as hell.

“Oh, hey, girl standing in front of me on the escalator! You’re in my philosophy class!” Oh, hey! Yeah, hi. So glad you recognized the back of my head. (If I could’ve walked away, I would’ve.. but I was trapped.)

A simple hi would’ve sufficed. Hello, and move on. But no.

First, THIS GUY had to tell me how so many people came up to him after class to echo coos of agreement with his many, vast opinions on philosophy, and how they all want wonderful, glorious him in their study group. Wow, I’m super impressed. We shake hands (I, awkwardly) and exchange names. But of course, I already know THIS GUY’s name. How could I not?! Then, he proceeds to tell me how he’s going to grab lunch with his friend (makes sure to point out that this friend is female) before his next class. Cool, guy. I’m not going to tell you where I’m going. Or so I thought. HE ASKED where I was going. Seriously? Let’s get a little more creepy here (he does). Lucky me, I’m headed in the exact same direction to grab lunch.. but I’m grabbing it to go. And then he invites me to join him. I’m sorry, but did you miss the body language and nonverbal cues that I was screaming at you? No, I do not want to be near your annoyingness. And what’s more! I said I was getting it and LEAVING! I wasn’t just saying that to say it! I really was! Hey, brainiac, how could you miss that part too?! Then, you exclaim that you see your friend and you’ll see me later. Oh, joy. Be gone, satan. And then I got in and out of there as quickly as I could before I inevitably would run into him again.

Now, HOW DOES THIS ALWAYS HAPPEN TO ME?! I’m pretty sure the universe knows exactly what I don’t want, and purposely tries to fuck with me by throwing everything like that in my path. You’re sooo funny, universe. SO FUNNY.

A few final, parting thoughts:
1.) I just know THIS GUY is going to try and talk to me again next class. I may have to wear a disguise.
2.) Everything that can happen to me, will happen. Especially if I don’t want it to.
3.) I’m way too approachable. I need to work on looking mean.

Don’t be THAT GUY, for the love of god. And, apparently, judging by my luck, I shouldn’t ever play the lottery.

The lessons I’ve learned today… WOW. Priceless. Thank you to my university. And thank you to society for creating these annoying prats.

THE END.

Ain’t nothin’ wrong with a booty call.

Before I begin this post, I would like to first congratulate.. myself. I now have my own online column for my school newspaper entirely dedicated to my banter and complaints. Obviously, I have to keep the snarky swearing out of my writing, but it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make. Also, you have yourselves to thank too. If you didn’t fluff my ego so much, I wouldn’t have applied in the first place. Now you’ve convinced me that I’m way too hilarious to keep it to myself.. or even a small group of people. I need an audience, baby! And now I’ve got one. You’ve really created a monster.. better watch out!

And now to get into this particular topic. I’m going to throw out a disclaimer right off the bat because I know you assholes will start judging the second I jump into it: I do not condone slutty, inappropriate, irresponsible behavior. And with that nice foreshadowing, let us begin..

In this day and age, I have a hard time understanding why people are so judgmental about a woman’s sexual behavior. This may come as a surprise to some of you, but we don’t live in the 1800s anymore! Women make conscious decisions about their bodies ALL OF THE TIME. GASP! To be honest, this post isn’t even simply directed towards men. Some of you snooty bitches out there need this post too. There are some women out there who actually enjoy casual sex. Sweet baby Jesus, who would’ve ever thought?! And in my (humble) opinion, I say let the bitches do what they want!

Look, I know we’ve all turned our nose up to some poor chick stumbling down the sidewalk in the early morning wearing the same clothes she went out in the night before. WE ALL KNOW WHAT HAPPENED WITH HER LAST NIGHT. She had a good fucking night (no pun intended). If she was coherent and conscious of the decisions she was making, who are we to judge her for it? Big deal, she’s a single, young woman who had a casual hook-up with a guy. If she was smart about it, who fucking cares? Honestly, if you have your own personal, possibly religious beliefs about premarital sex, then fine. To each their own. But just because you wouldn’t put yourself in her shoes and make the same choices doesn’t make her a bad person. Girls just want to have fun, so if that’s how they have fun, then goddamn let them be! Plus, if a man is praised for how many girls he sleeps with, why is it so frowned upon for a girl to do the same? Look, bro. You’re nobody special. Anybody can do what you do. Even a chick. So take your double standard and shove it up your ass.

I’d also like to mention that this belief doesn’t encompass every type of girl. There are some girls who sleep around with many different partners in the most irresponsible ways. Ladies, use protection. Always. If you’re planning on getting down with a dude, take it upon yourself to bring your own condom because, let’s just face it, guys don’t plan ahead like that. If you’re responsible and don’t get emotionally involved so that it leads to problems in the future, I honestly don’t see a problem. But there are people out there who do, so just be prepared for potential scrutiny anyway when you’re walking home the next morning. Not everyone can be as understanding and as cool as fuck like me.

So, ladies, don’t be ashamed of your sex drive. In 10 years, you definitely won’t look as hot as you do now. Feel free to spread your love.. as long as that’s the only thing you’re spreading. Keep it clean, keep it classy and keep it casual. Get it, girl.

Prince(ss) Charming.

It’s an understatement to say that people don’t act like they used to. What I mean is that people kind of suck a lot more lately as opposed to.. I don’t know.. when I was born. After that, people in general just kind of spiraled into a never ending tailspin of SUCK.

Please allow me to break this down into individual explanations and examples.

1.) When did holding a door become such a difficult task? It must be SUPER hard to do if nobody seems to have the ability to hold the door for two fucking seconds so it doesn’t slam closed on the person walking in behind them! Honestly. Holding a door open is a goddamn common courtesy. You can’t convince me that it takes THAT much effort and inconveniences you SOOO much that you just refuse to do it. Granted, if you’re in a wheelchair or have crutches, I can understand the difficulty of holding a door, and I don’t blame you if you just can’t manage. But for all of you normal fucktards out there, be polite and hold the door for the person A FOOT behind you. If I get another door in my face any time soon, I’m just going to run ahead of you and abruptly stop so YOU run into ME. That’s just about the same as getting a door closed in your face. Except I’ll obviously blame you for colliding with me. Why don’t you watch where you’re going?!!?

2.) This one’s so common these days that I just want to scream: If you can talk to me online, via text, on the phone or through a handwritten letter, why in the HELL can’t you even acknowledge my existence in person? When did socialization stop being important in daily human life? Don’t text me and pretend we’re BFFs if you don’t even say hello to me if you see me in person. I get that social networking sites have the word “social” in the name, but technology doesn’t take the place of human interaction. Stop being socially awkward and creepy.

3.) The entire world doesn’t like the same types of music as you do. With that said, keep the volume down, you deaf pricks. I don’t want to hear your screamo music blasting out of your headphones in the library while I’m trying to quietly study for a history exam. And why the hell do you need to listen to it that loud anyway? Headphones were invented so you could have your own, PRIVATE listening time. So keep that noise to yourself.

4.) Why is it such a problem to share notes with someone who was absent from class? Are you hoarding some kind of top secret information that nobody else in the universe is allowed to see because it would change life on earth for eternity?! Because if that’s the case, then damn, keep that scary shit to yourself. I sure as hell don’t want that kind of responsibility. But I’d hazard a guess and say that your notes aren’t anything special, and there’s no reason to keep them from me if I politely ask and promise to promptly return them. I understand that it’s annoying to feel like you’re somebody’s personal secretary because they skip class all the time and ask for YOUR notes. But everyone isn’t like that, and I don’t appreciate selfish prats like this. Next time you come down with the stomach flu on a Tuesday, I’m going to write my notes in Spanish so you can’t understand a damn word (because I’m obviously just TOO nice to simply not give you any notes at all!). How do you like those apples, huh?!?!

5.) Admit your faults and apologize when the time calls for it. People are so damn proud these days that even when they’re blatantly in the wrong, they refuse to admit it. Look, I don’t like looking stupid either. But there comes a time in everyone’s life when you just have to suck it up and admit defeat. Nobody’s perfect, and trying to pretend that you are won’t fool me. Don’t be the asshole that’s “always right,” because I’m that asshole who will call you out for it. Sorry ‘bout it.

I guess I just don’t get it. Maybe it’s just because I was raised to have manners (shoutout to mom & dad!), but when people don’t know how to just be polite.. I just want to hit them. Treat others how you want to be treated, right? Why can’t you idiots take that to heart? Oops, I forgot. You’re the king of the universe and it is and always will be ALL ABOUT YOU.

Man, I can’t wait to push you off that high horse, bitch.
Life’s rough. Wear a helmet.

SICK and TIRED.

While I’m laying in bed for the fifth day in a row, bitching about my headache, questioning whether or not i’m narcoleptic, quickly (probably) becoming immune to every antibiotic in the world and wondering when I’ll finally be able to breathe out of my nose again.. I find myself gawking at the impressive young people in this world. And congratulating myself on my fantastic ability to maintain my high level of wit even in my weakened state. HERE IT GOES…

How in the HELL do you drag your sick asses out of bed and go out partying? I mean, seriously! Who told you that was a good idea?! At what moment did you think, “Hey, yeah.. I’m on 3 different medications right now, can only see out of my left eye and I’m bleeding out of my ears, but SHIT! It’s Saturday night! Let’s party!”?!?! As a good friend told me when I was debating back and forth about whether or not I should have another drink after consuming 1500 mg of antibiotics for the day: “Do you know how well that worked out for Whitney?” Apparently, drugs and alcohol don’t mix. So what did I do after dinner and one glass of wine? I WENT THE FUCK HOME AND TO BED, IDIOTS. Damn. I don’t want to die! But apparently you idiots do.

My favorite question when I’m deathly ill and bedridden is when people ask why I’m not out partying. Seriously? Did your mother drop you on your head over and over again when you were a toddler? Because if she didn’t, she should’ve. Fucking idiots. When you’re sick, you stay home and take care of yourself until you’re healthy again. And I’m pretty sure you’re not advised to consume alcohol if you’re on antibiotics. An apple a day doesn’t ACTUALLY keep the doctor away, dumbfucks. And staying out until 3 a.m., pissed drunk after 3 beers (because you’re also tripping on medication) isn’t going to make you feel better any sooner. HOLY REVELATION!

So whoever told you it was socially cool to go out drinking and partying even when you’re extremely ill and taking prescription medicine is a flaming moron. If you want to end up like Whitney but receive far less media attention, then be my guest. But I’m sorry, I’m too goddamn awesome to die this young. I’ve got shit to do yet! So don’t you dare ask me why I’m not out when I’m sick, and don’t even THINK about making a retarded joke about how lame I am for it either. If you do, you’ll regret it later when I’m famous as hell and don’t acknowledge your mediocre existence.

THE END. For now.

Too kewl for skewl.

Some things puzzle me beyond belief. Here’s one of many:

How in the hell do college students manage to go out drinking every night of the week and 1) not die from alcohol poisoning, and 2) not flunk out of college?

I’m not trying to get all Ma and Pa on your ass. College is supposed to be the best time of your life (wait, didn’t they say that about high school too?). Sex, booze and rock and roll. Or something like that. I’m all for it! I look forward to Thursdays just as much as the next college kid! But that also has a lot to do with the fact that I haven’t had a Friday class since freshman year. And I KNOW most of you dumbasses have classes every weekday, so when the fuck do you do your school work if you go out every night? When do you study for exams? How do you get projects done? How do you get respect from adults when you’re acting like a stark, raving lunatic every night of the week? These questions keep me up at night.

But seriously. I’m a damn good student. And despite what some may say, college classes are damn hard. The amount of outside-of-class time that you need to spend on homework and shit is insane. Except.. none of you raging alcoholics seem to ever be busy or have responsibilities. I don’t get it! Did I pick the wrong major?!?

And besides all that, it also baffles me how these people are then able to wake up the next morning and sit through classes all day! Unless you skip those or something, which wouldn’t be surprising. But I know FOR SURE that some of you wild cats DO come to class the next day because, usually, you’re sitting right next to me reeking of last night’s beer and wearing the clothes you passed out in after puking your life into the toilet. Are you superhuman? Because I know that if I go that hard at night, there’s no chance of dragging my ass out of bed that early the next morning. Maybe I should be congratulating you? High fives, chest bumps, fist pumps?

I guess this doesn’t apply to everyone. I know a fair share of freshmen who tried to live their lives like this and actually DID flunk out, so maybe it really does take a lot of effort. And now that I’m thinking about it, I’m starting to admire these nut jobs..

No, just kidding. You’re no better than the God of Booze I mentioned in a previous post. Except you’re just posing as a college student. Get the fuck out of here. I’ve got shit to do, and every reason to celebrate my accomplishments when the weekend finally rolls along. What the hell are you celebrating? Oh. Probably the fact that you haven’t been kicked out of school or arrested yet. Just give it some time, doll babies. Your time will come.

Pretty (stupid) woman.

I know I always poke fun at ladies, but it’s so much easier since I know how their brain works because I’m a lady (although that’s been debated sometimes) myself. So I’m doing it again. And I don’t care what you think!

Okay, dim wads. Let’s lay down some undeniable facts. It is the end of January, and February is just around the corner. And this is the state of Ohio. If I had to guess, the average temperature in this location during this time of year tends to hover around 30 degrees fahrenheit. Don’t act surprised. Most of you dumb bitches have lived in Ohio for at least half of your lives. YOU KNOW THIS.

So now, my question to the women of society:
WHY THE FUCK AREN’T YOU WEARING WARMER CLOTHES?!

Look, I know you think that bro over there will be way more into you if he can see your ass cheeks hanging out of that skirt. To be honest, that’s definitely one way to get his attention. But if you go out at night with the intentions of bar or party hopping and you KNOW that you’ll be outside for extended amounts of time, why in Jesus, Joseph and Mary’s name wouldn’t you wear pants? I saw so many girls standing in line at bars shivering so hard I thought their weaves were gonna shake off. And then you sluts give ME disapproving looks because I’m in a sweater and jeans? How about you fuck off, mmkay? At least I’m warm. And hey, I’ve never had a problem getting guys to buy me drinks just because I’m wearing pants. So up yours!

And to go along with what I’ve mentioned before, learn how to walk in high heels or leave them at home, honey. DAMN.

Women. Can’t live with ‘em, can’t stop looking at ‘em.. if only because they attract all the wrong kinds of attention. Dumb sloots.