Apparently 1 in 4 college age women have absolutely no idea. They're just walking around hoping that someday, someone will be brave enough to forage/venture through the enchanted, dark forest under cover of night (and blanket) hacking, probing and digging away until they find the magic place. This dear readers is not the answer. Having been recently acquainted with this statistic and well aware of the societal and cultural implications involved I wanted to know, for intellectual purposes a.k.a. gathering ammunition for the continuing fight against the unjustly & heavy handedly penis ",(heehee. I'm dirty) dominated and favoring societal structure's of the world, what the statistic was for our male peers.
The answer...one. Yes, you read it right. One man in the world has never had an orgasm by the time they enter college. That man is probably the last remaining eunuch in the world as well. (P.S. I may be exaggerating this statistic but bear with me, I'm trying to make a point.) The truth of the matter is that it is virtually impossible to know the answer to this question. Why? Well, (here begins the 7th grade anatomy lesson) even though both male and female humans have sexual (best function) reproductive (less interesting function)organs, known as genitalia they are biologically and physiologically different. In laymen's terms, boys have penis's and balls' that hang low (well I'm being generous here) and outside the general frame of their bodies. These genitals just can't help bumping into things or rubbing themselves up against things (most notably by back when I'm trying to dance...jack ass) and are extremely sensitive to vibrations...like bus rides. ", Not to mention that stroking the pole, tugging the beast (or little furry animal), "messaging" the ladle (you get my point...circumcised or not? when it's gift wrapped it doesn't make a difference) is a perfectly acceptable social and cultural (I'm generalizing on this one... so don't start being THAT girl/boy who always spoils the [anonymous sex] party with your "interesting tid bits" and "corrections/facts". You're smart. We get it. Move on.) "exercise". As stiffler once said, boys get to "rock out whit their cocks out" and "hang out with their wangs out" BUT girls, women, ladies, non-gender specific people's what about us? Don't we get to party? Apparently 1 in 4 of us lost the invitation on our way to gender-biased societal constraints land a.k.a. our world.
This issue, to me, is the single most important issue facing our world and our women today. Murder, crime, poverty, these things don't concern me. (Fight Club reference had to sneak its way in here) What concerns me...is my next door neighbors orgasm, the 75% of college age women who've never had an orgasms' orgasm and the 50% or so who might die never having had an orgasms' orgasm. The lack of orgasm-ing in general concerns me. It's a sad orgasmless world we live in and it needs to change.
Pray tell, what is the solution oh enlightened sexual predator? Yes, dear readers, it has taken this long but finally someone was brave enough to call a spade a spade or in my case a sexual predator a sexual predator. Well, not so much a sexual predator but a sex-crazed man predator. Difference? I walk a very fine line between incarceration and freedom that makes life an adventure.
It is true that society tells us women, that we should be pure, chaste and holy (not in the vaginal sense) at all times BUT are we not human too? What ever happened to equality? If women cannot be seen as equal to men when it comes to something as basic, carnal and human as sexual satisfaction, desire and pleasure (i.e. the great human equalizer) then how far have we really come (yes that was a pun)? Now I am not implying that equality among the sexes relies solely on sexual equality (we possibly have bigger fish to fry) but sex and sexuality is always my favorite place to start. Did I not mention that i am a sexual predator?
The Clit is the hokey pokey, that's what IT's all about(I wish that I could say that this is a self-proclaimed legend original but a wiser woman than I beat ", me to it). For women that is. This is where we start, the golden ticket that leads to a land EXPLODING with satisfaction, the holy (pun very much intended) grail of the female orgasm. Forget the entrancing 70's cheesy porn music and the unrealistic portrayals of female ecstasy (Nobody screams THAT loudly unless they're faking it), dexterity (If you're looking for a contortionist go find a contortionist)and average male endowment (they aren't ALL THAT BIG and frankly that's not a terrible thing. A broken pelvis is not fun). Most women DO NOT, I repeat DO NOT get off on...the train merely entering the tunnel, the sausage slicing the roll (thank me for that one the next time you eat a hot dog) or the worm burrowing the hole(Ewwwww, ewww gross analogy. I think I might've just scarred myself with this one). [If you don't get where I'm going with this, not even google maps can help you.] The missionary position (fun fact: that's the title of one of mother Theresa's books. how inappropriately appropriate) is all good and well but to achieve O-ltimate ", glory, it needs a helping hand from a friend (up north, in the land of Curiously Little Interesting Things). I implore you women of the world to spend some time in the land of Curiously Little Interesting Things every once in a while just as our male counterparts are encouraged to tug on the boat whenever the urge arises. Am I suggesting masturbation? (GASP!)Why yes I am. Unashamedly so. My reasoning, besides my single-handed (works just as well as two =) crusade to liberate women (and their vajayjay's) from the bondage of societal expectations and double standards, you ask? It's simple...how can you expect another to do for you what you haven't yet been able to do for yourself?
As much as we are anatomically the same or similar (depending on your subjective view of what these words mean...smith has forever spoiled every argument that I will ever have from now on. Everything is subjective, open for interpretation and usually always a social construct) we are all very different when it comes to what revs the engine, who turns on our ignition and where our accelerator's are hidden. So if we don't take the initiative to plunge into waters (or secretions) unknown and uncover the mysteries locked beneath our socially induced bodily shame, hatred and fear then how can we expect another to know what to do to make us scream, shout and exhale (like 70's porn stars)? If we do not know then we cannot communicate and most importantly we won't reach the big Oh Oh OHHHH moment that we've heard about in rumors and tall tales usually involving people we don't know and aren't quite sure exist. Far too much blame has been placed on the other person but if they've never been told (because we don't know) then they can't be blamed. (I know, it's unusual to hear me NOT blame the "male" for something. Has my constitution changed?).
Dear 3 out 4 college age women I was once you. Made too ashamed and afraid to think of my body in such lascivious ways. How dare I demand pleasure and satisfaction? How dare I want more than just to be a tool for someone else's pleasure? How dare I be human, have needs and want them met? (This last part applies to more than just sexual needs by the way...Even though it may seem like it is, my mind isn't only in the gutter =) Now if your objections to my suggestions are wholly untouched ", (I didn't even plan that one, it just came out. haha. and another) by differing societal judgements and expectations of men and women then you are not the subject of my pleas. If however, like me, you live in a world, a society, a culture or nurtured in a religion/ a set of beliefs that employs such gendered stereotypes and inequalities...ask yourself whether it is just or unjust? And if you feel it is the latter, well a good self-exploration session might not change things but you'll certainly feel a whole lot better afterward. And with time as well as repetition, the shame and guilt will melt away with your sexual frustration.
Dear societal construct a.k.a. the world and its institutions, all I ask is that you treat and look at me the same way you do the one's with the XY sex chromosome. What is in a letter anyway? Apparently a whole lot of disparity. If I am to be ashamed of my needs (all needs) then so should they BUT since I like my needs a little too much let's re-negotiate. If they (i.e. the XY's) are encouraged to seek and find the pleasure's of life (and loin) then I too should be encouraged. Because above all else we are human and that's what should matter.
Ahhhh it has been wonderful to re-penetrate the world of blogging. We have been apart (my pseudonym and I) for far too long. But now it is time for me to say my goodbyes (but not for too long this time), good nights and good lucks. But before I leave, I will leave you with this nugget of bias interpretation:
Tyler durden (FIGHT CLUB) says, "Self-improvement is masturbation."
The Self-proclaimed Legend says, " Then let's go out and improve ourselves ALL THE TIME smithies, isn't that what we are here for?" (",)
Monday, October 3, 2011
Monday, March 7, 2011
Expect A Tantric Sex Session
I always suspected that I was living amongst deviants, miscreants, perverts (both good and bad) and generally kinky (",) individuals (As you can see thesaurus.com is my favorite website). Last weeks conversation confirmed that my suspicions were not just figments of my paranoid, David Icke - worshiping, big brother - fearing, world is ending in 2012, conspiracy theorist imaginations, they were always a legitimate, logical, extremely accurate fear of my peers (And if you don't believe me, the day will come when I get to say I told you so!! Vindication will be mine, even if it is at the expense of your ass-hole [anal-probes are real], your mind [the illuminati is brainwashing you...Lady gaga's vag-thusiastic new Music video should prove that. Illuminati symbolism is everywhere, controlling your mind and turning you into agents of their apocalypse] or even at the expense of your LIFE [If you do not have an underground bunker, stocked with perishables, water and all the lube you could ever need (because it gets lonely down there...heehee. You've just been PUN'D)then you're clearly a candidate for a darwin award and deserve to die when THE nuclear war breaks out]. I will be laughing all the way to the bank of self-righteous indignation.
A myth that is often perpetuated by administrative figures of this college, is that Smith women graduate and go on to change the world, win Nobel peace prizes [well not yet...but who knows? It could be your daughter], feed the starving [like Jesus we can feed the world with 3 loaves of gluten-free, wholewheat bread and 5 organic, non-endangered species FISH], become heads of state [Like Virginia, not United States...glass ceiling is still a little too thick for that] and generally bring Love and happiness to all people's of the world. It might be a bit of an exaggeration BUT i distinctly remember my admissions package saying something along those lines. This elaborate myth is concocted to hide the real truth about Smithies. More often than not we graduate to become criminals, gangsters, mad scientisst [the Josef Mengele kind] pathological liars, sociopaths, psychopaths and any other paths (PUN'D again) there may be. Oh and I'm pretty sure a fair number of us might graduate to become serial killers (who here isn't homicidal by their junior year???). Honestly were are so tightly wound up from frustration (both sexual and otherwise), fear of failure and a sick competitive nature that it is no surprise we will EXPLODE in some way or another [I'd prefer it to be from ecstasy] when the confining walls of Smith let us loose.
This conversation covered a variety of topics in the space of about 20 minutes. From cheating lie detector tests to terrorism, cosmetic surgery and then babies. How is it possible to string so many seemingly random, unrelated topics together? Well its called ADHD and if you've ever been to Smith health/Counseling services you've probably been diagnosed with it once or twice. Anti-psychotics before Anti-biotics is the health services M.O. If you're having trouble concentrating on your homework...you definitely have ADHD, the fact that you might be bored out of your mind with the material doesn't really factor into the equation. We had a fair number of blog virgins in this conversation, which is so exciting. I love taking people's virginity's [I know what you're thinking right now and ya'll have sick minds. Blog Virginity's is what I meant, clearly!]. The players in last weeks conversation were (Howard) Wolowitz (Who doesn't love a guy who looks like he should've been on that 70's Show rather than the big bang theory.), Lizbeth Salander [This girl kicks ass...I mean, literally, will kick your ass, punch you in the face, tie you up and brand you like a farm animal. This character isn't so much new to the blog, she's just been revamped.], Liz Lemon [ "A New York third-wave feminist, college-educated, single-and-pretending-to-be-happy-about-it, over-scheduled, undersexed, you buy any magazine that says 'healthy body image' on the cover and every two years you take up knitting for...a week." Thanks JACK for that highly inaccurate description, well about our liz lemon not yours.], Madame Vagina [I'm pretty sure that she came up with the concept for 'Born this Way', You get a vagina, you get a vagina Everybody get's a vaginaaaaa], and Banksy [The underground rebel, fuck up your mind with the truth, real life TYLER DURDEN. It could be me, it could be you. No one really knows.]. Some of our blog veterans Included, Trippin' on some shit, Susie Jones Geology major and Me, your ever faithful (slightly stressed, under-slept and usually delusional) voyeur in to the world of Washburn Crazy...the Self-proclaimed legend [or as I am now known, 'legs'].
WARNING: This is a very long (sorta like tantric sex) conversation. So if you in fact have ADHD you probably won't get through this in one sitting or EVER. But if you are eager for some black mail material against your friends, be patient and read on.
It started out innocently enough...
Wolowitz: [To Lizbeth] Did you go to the Secret Service thing? (Big Brother. 'nuf said)
Lizebth Salander: No when is it?
Wolowitz: It's already past, it was on Rally day.
The Self-procalimed Legend: What was the Secret Service doing here? [Clearly not being from this country, underhanded recruitment methods are something I am not familiar with]
Lizbeth Salander: Recruiting.
The self-procalimed Legend: College Students? [I thought that they only targeted innocent high school dropouts, from socio-economically poor backgrounds with no hope for a future (so they say)...except voluntary death, for an unnecessary cause OR is that just the U.S. Armed forces?]
Lizbeth Salander: Yeah. The CIA, the FBI and the Secret Service have started using anthropologists, because Anthropologists have a legitimate reason to be in other countries and ask probing questions. [Again. "Probing". 'nuf said]
The Self-proclaimed Legend: But seriously college students? Aren't there older anthropologists they could use?
Lizebth Salander: Well they want to get you before you've gone out into the world and developed any ethics. [BINGO. GAME. SET. MATCH. Devious but Brilliant Game plan.] And they go to High Schools. [NOTE: At this point I started to wonder why Lizebeth knew so much about such covert matters...was she an agent, was she paranoid? Then I realized She's fucking lizbeth Salander she's like the Wiki leaks guy but hotter. She is a BAMF!!]
The Self-proclaimed Legend: High Schoolers? That's Sick.
Lizbeth Salander: Well they (the agents) were taken into the secret service (or F.B.I or C.I.A...from now on they're interchangeable) before they developed any ethics so they don't care.
The Self-proclaimed Legend: Well I have actually heard that it's quite easy to get an entry level job at the C.I.A straight out of College. [This my attempt to try and prove that I have actually assimilated and know a few things about this country...but I was about to be schooled.]
Lizbeth Salander: No that's not true. It's very difficult actually. You could never have been arrested and you couldn't have taken drugs in the past three years. [Fuck that eliminates at least 60% of us in this house alone]
Trippin' on some shit: How would they know if you have or not, you could just lie. [Gettin' worried there trippin' on some shit...all day e'ery day?]
Lizbeth Salander:No they make you take a lie detector test and get a psychological evaluation. [I've decided she is the wikileaks guy]
The self-proclaimed Legend: Well you can fake a lie detector test.
NOTE: This is the point where the conversation takes on a very suspicious turn. Why would anyone want to know how to fake a lie detector test, UNLESS they were planning to encounter one in the Near FUTURE. Smithies...'nuf said.
Madame Vagina: Yeah those things aren't very reliable are they?
Self-Proclaimed Legend: It's better to use a human lie detector test than a machine. [As you can see everything I know is informed by TV...Lie to ME anyone? Fox Mondays 9PM. If Fox says its true then it is LAW.]
Trippin' on some shit: No if you are delusional enough to believe your own lies, you could pass. [I guess you would know, trippin' on some shit...like Acid]
Lizbeth Salander: That's true I guess.
Trippin' on some shit: Or you could just get really baked and then you'd be so mellow. [I take your word for it, you're the expert.]
Lizbeth Salander: Trippin' they make you take a drug test. [Duh...she didn't say that but she was probably thinking it.]
Self-proclaimed Legend: Is valium detected in drug tests?
Trippin' on some shit: No they can't detect it in basic drug tests. [Why am I surprised that she knows this?]
Self-proclaimed Legend: See, I would pop some valium and be as calm as a Hindu cow. [I'm pretty sure I still have that prescription Smith gave me. hmm]
Liz Lemon: Yeah they're not very reliable. I mean you could just be nervous about taking a lie detector test, BECAUSE it's a lie detector test and it's the F.B.I. Who wouldn't fail? [This wreaks of someone who took a lie detector test...and FAILED. Just saying.]
Trippin' on some shit: Or you could put yourself in a hypertensive state an it would fuck up the detectors. Everything would look the same.
Banksy: Wait a minute why are we talking about lie detectors?
Self-proclaimed Legend: Well I have to take one.
Banksy: What? Really? [She was a little alarmed at the fact that she may living amongst social deviants]
Self-proclaimed Legend: Yeah because the F.B.I thinks I'm a terrorist. [All brown people are terrorists aren't they?]
Banksy: Shut Up Self-proclaimed Legend. [I need to work on my pathological lying If I'm to get away with Shit in the future.]
{Lizbeth Salander went on to explain the conversation that you've already read to Banksy}
Self-proclaimed Legend: I'm not lying. I make bombs in my bedroom, getting ready to strap them on and blow something up. [I am seriously going to be deported for this Statement.]
Lizbeth Salander: But what would you blow up? I mean what reason do you have for blowing anything up? [Clearly she has yet to hack into my classified file]
Self-proclaimed Legend: I would blow Smith up. For fucking up my life and turning me into a crazy psycho person. In fact for turning us all into crazy fucked up people. Who are stressed out all the time with all this fucking WORK. I'm gonna go to Christ's (as in the president not the deity) now and say what up bitch? BOOM.
[ a) Way to project your feelings on to everyone else psycho, b) Yeah I'm sure that's exactly how the conversation will go down and c) WOW I really sound like a future cult leader.]
Trippin' on some shit: Yeah let's do it and then run away to Canada.
Liz Lemon: Yeah Canada is a great place to hide. [Is that sarcasm I hear or am I just paranoid?]
Susie Jones Geology Major: Because Canada is totally going to protect you from being extradited back to the U.S. [Ok so I'm not paranoid this is sarcasm.]
Self-proclaimed Legend: And I definitely won't stick out in Canada. [ Sarcasm reigns. I would totally stick out in Canada...because Canada is full of white people. How do I know this? No self respecting black person would ever voluntarily live in a country where Ice hockey is the national sport. How many black people do you see skating around with hockey sticks, hitting a puck?]
Trippin' on some shit: That's what reconstructive surgery is for? [Aha moment...we need to get this shit on Oprah's magazine]
Self-proclaimed Legend: Ooooh who would I be? (thinking, thinking, thinking) I'd be Michael Jackson. [Wow...you're really smart. Like people aren't going to notice a dead man walking?? I sadden myself sometimes.] I'd just make myself white that would confuse the shit out of them. They'd be like, "wait you're white, we're looking for a black person." [This is exactly how the conversation would go down.]
Trippin' on some Shit: That's good. Then I'd be a black person. [Ebony and Ivory together again ;)]
Liz Lemon: Wait that wouldn't work because they're looking for a black person and a white person so they'd just switch you guys around. [Goddamit why do smart people have to crush everyone's childish dreams with logic and reason and reality???]
Self-proclaimed Legend: Good Point. Trippin' you need to find another nationality. [I meant race or maybe ethnicity? Could somebody remind me what the new PC term is again?]
Trippin' on some shit: Oooh I could be Asian.
Self-proclaimed Legend: Perfect. That would really screw them up. They'd be like, " You're white and you're Asian. We're looking for black and white people." [It's such a great thing that I want to be a screenwriter because my dialogue skills are off the chain. I'm the next Aaron Sorkin baby.]
Trippin' on some shit: I'd have to bind my chest.
Self-proclaimed Legend: I'd just have to get Double D's because I can't really grind my boobs down. [GRIND??? really? I'm a little worried I have lost too many brain cells]
Liz Lemon: And, Self-proclaimed legend, if they can't make you white, they could whiten your skin enough that you'd look Latina.
NOTE: Smithies are so Smart we, in ten minutes, have done what no other terrorist organization has manged to do or think of doing in months of planning. Work out an escape plan. 'We don't get caught' is our tag line.
Self-proclaimed Legend: OMG. That's brilliant. That would even be more perfect. An Asian and a Latina. [This is so not racially inappropriate at all] We got this AND my ovaries would still be black so I can still have blasians. [Who knew that ovaries also came in different racial classifications? I did clearly.]
Susie Jones Geology Major: It was just a matter of time before the blasian topic came up. [Do I really talk about it that often?]
Self - proclaimed Legend: I love blasians so much. [I just answered my own question] They're so gorgeous. I only want beautiful babies. If I had ugly children I don't think I can handle it. [I guess you know which side of the Designer baby debate I fall on.]
Liz Lemon: Like the thundercat baby. [Why?? why do you hate me Liz? Why would you bring this shameful part of my life up? I have never done anything to you.]
Self-proclaimed Legend: Oh dear god. [I'm talking to myself again] That thundercat baby is so ugly its frightening. I'd have to get rid of IT. I guess that's what boarding school is for. [Whoever said that there are no ugly babies in this world has not seen the thundercat spawn of Chuckie. You'll give yourself a hysterectomy just knowing there might be a chance of such an atrocity squeezing out of your vagina. It could actually be used to promote Abstinence very successfully.]
Trippin on some Shit: (She points straight ahead without saying anything for a while, leaving us all wondering if she had gone mute.) That's what the hubbard dumpster is for. [When in doubt, look to the hubbard dumpsters]
Liz Lemon: (Color comes rushing back into her face) I thought you were pointing at me for a second and I was like I'm not taking care of that ugly thundercat baby. I don't want to raise it. [You're preaching to the Choir Liz.]
Susie Jones Geology Major: Or you could just send it out into drug dealing a lot earlier. Let's say 3 years old instead of 5.
Self-proclaimed Legend: That's true that's a good idea.
[You see my philosophy on children is that I only have to take care of them until they're like five. Then I can send them out into the world and tell them that they have to find their own means of providing for themselves because "mommy's money is mommy's money. If you wanna eat you have to make your own money." Of course I would make them pay rent if they wanted to continue living in my house. They need to learn the value of a dollar...the earlier the better.]
Liz Lemon: Wait if Trippin' is going to be Asian and then go on to have gender reconstructive surgery then you and Legend could have blasians. [ 1 + 1 = 2 right? No Liz not quite. Not this time. Why? you ask.]
Self-proclaimed Legend:No because her sperm would still be white. [That's why. Sperm is also racially classified. It's a very new discovery. Very few people have heard about it.] I'm just going to have to find myself an Asian man or go to a sperm bank.
Madame Vagina: Well what about genetic anomalies? Even with Asian sperm you could still have a black baby. I mean two black people can even have a white baby. [Dear Madame Vagina, I never knew dominatrix sex workers were smart. Are you one of those girls who 'pays' her way through college by stripping?]
Self-proclaimed Legend: hmm true.
Liz Lemon: Wait why are we talking about sperm banks and artificial incemination when we have a geneticist in the room? [Let's Euphamise it Liz, you mean 'Eugenicist' don't you? I know it's not the PC thing to say but i know you mean. wink. Who's the 'geneticist' you ask? That's a secret I'll never tell. XOXO Gossip girl]
WOW. What a tantric session. There is nothing like a delayed orgasm to make you feel great. ;) Now back to (non-virtual) reality. I know that Eugenics and Designer babies are not really a 'PC' topic. But think about it...do you really want an ugly baby? Babies are like accessories, they're supposed to be pretty. Designer babies are all the rage this season. And it's a known fact that beautiful people have better, happier lives. [With good reason] Looks are everything no body cares about brains. Why would you force your child to have a hard, painful life filled with ridicule and torment? That's not very nice of you. A good parent would do anything to have the best for their child, wouldn't they? The best = Beautiful. 'nuf said.
So in summation. If you ever find yourself in compromising position (not the good kind) at least now you know how to lie your way through a lie detector test and if when you do decide to have baby someday, consult your local Eugenicist...it'll be good for you and the baby.
Good night, good luck and remember when in doubt...ask a fellow washburnite. We have all the answers all day e'eryday. 'nuf said.
A myth that is often perpetuated by administrative figures of this college, is that Smith women graduate and go on to change the world, win Nobel peace prizes [well not yet...but who knows? It could be your daughter], feed the starving [like Jesus we can feed the world with 3 loaves of gluten-free, wholewheat bread and 5 organic, non-endangered species FISH], become heads of state [Like Virginia, not United States...glass ceiling is still a little too thick for that] and generally bring Love and happiness to all people's of the world. It might be a bit of an exaggeration BUT i distinctly remember my admissions package saying something along those lines. This elaborate myth is concocted to hide the real truth about Smithies. More often than not we graduate to become criminals, gangsters, mad scientisst [the Josef Mengele kind] pathological liars, sociopaths, psychopaths and any other paths (PUN'D again) there may be. Oh and I'm pretty sure a fair number of us might graduate to become serial killers (who here isn't homicidal by their junior year???). Honestly were are so tightly wound up from frustration (both sexual and otherwise), fear of failure and a sick competitive nature that it is no surprise we will EXPLODE in some way or another [I'd prefer it to be from ecstasy] when the confining walls of Smith let us loose.
This conversation covered a variety of topics in the space of about 20 minutes. From cheating lie detector tests to terrorism, cosmetic surgery and then babies. How is it possible to string so many seemingly random, unrelated topics together? Well its called ADHD and if you've ever been to Smith health/Counseling services you've probably been diagnosed with it once or twice. Anti-psychotics before Anti-biotics is the health services M.O. If you're having trouble concentrating on your homework...you definitely have ADHD, the fact that you might be bored out of your mind with the material doesn't really factor into the equation. We had a fair number of blog virgins in this conversation, which is so exciting. I love taking people's virginity's [I know what you're thinking right now and ya'll have sick minds. Blog Virginity's is what I meant, clearly!]. The players in last weeks conversation were (Howard) Wolowitz (Who doesn't love a guy who looks like he should've been on that 70's Show rather than the big bang theory.), Lizbeth Salander [This girl kicks ass...I mean, literally, will kick your ass, punch you in the face, tie you up and brand you like a farm animal. This character isn't so much new to the blog, she's just been revamped.], Liz Lemon [ "A New York third-wave feminist, college-educated, single-and-pretending-to-be-happy-about-it, over-scheduled, undersexed, you buy any magazine that says 'healthy body image' on the cover and every two years you take up knitting for...a week." Thanks JACK for that highly inaccurate description, well about our liz lemon not yours.], Madame Vagina [I'm pretty sure that she came up with the concept for 'Born this Way', You get a vagina, you get a vagina Everybody get's a vaginaaaaa], and Banksy [The underground rebel, fuck up your mind with the truth, real life TYLER DURDEN. It could be me, it could be you. No one really knows.]. Some of our blog veterans Included, Trippin' on some shit, Susie Jones Geology major and Me, your ever faithful (slightly stressed, under-slept and usually delusional) voyeur in to the world of Washburn Crazy...the Self-proclaimed legend [or as I am now known, 'legs'].
WARNING: This is a very long (sorta like tantric sex) conversation. So if you in fact have ADHD you probably won't get through this in one sitting or EVER. But if you are eager for some black mail material against your friends, be patient and read on.
It started out innocently enough...
Wolowitz: [To Lizbeth] Did you go to the Secret Service thing? (Big Brother. 'nuf said)
Lizebth Salander: No when is it?
Wolowitz: It's already past, it was on Rally day.
The Self-procalimed Legend: What was the Secret Service doing here? [Clearly not being from this country, underhanded recruitment methods are something I am not familiar with]
Lizbeth Salander: Recruiting.
The self-procalimed Legend: College Students? [I thought that they only targeted innocent high school dropouts, from socio-economically poor backgrounds with no hope for a future (so they say)...except voluntary death, for an unnecessary cause OR is that just the U.S. Armed forces?]
Lizbeth Salander: Yeah. The CIA, the FBI and the Secret Service have started using anthropologists, because Anthropologists have a legitimate reason to be in other countries and ask probing questions. [Again. "Probing". 'nuf said]
The Self-proclaimed Legend: But seriously college students? Aren't there older anthropologists they could use?
Lizebth Salander: Well they want to get you before you've gone out into the world and developed any ethics. [BINGO. GAME. SET. MATCH. Devious but Brilliant Game plan.] And they go to High Schools. [NOTE: At this point I started to wonder why Lizebeth knew so much about such covert matters...was she an agent, was she paranoid? Then I realized She's fucking lizbeth Salander she's like the Wiki leaks guy but hotter. She is a BAMF!!]
The Self-proclaimed Legend: High Schoolers? That's Sick.
Lizbeth Salander: Well they (the agents) were taken into the secret service (or F.B.I or C.I.A...from now on they're interchangeable) before they developed any ethics so they don't care.
The Self-proclaimed Legend: Well I have actually heard that it's quite easy to get an entry level job at the C.I.A straight out of College. [This my attempt to try and prove that I have actually assimilated and know a few things about this country...but I was about to be schooled.]
Lizbeth Salander: No that's not true. It's very difficult actually. You could never have been arrested and you couldn't have taken drugs in the past three years. [Fuck that eliminates at least 60% of us in this house alone]
Trippin' on some shit: How would they know if you have or not, you could just lie. [Gettin' worried there trippin' on some shit...all day e'ery day?]
Lizbeth Salander:No they make you take a lie detector test and get a psychological evaluation. [I've decided she is the wikileaks guy]
The self-proclaimed Legend: Well you can fake a lie detector test.
NOTE: This is the point where the conversation takes on a very suspicious turn. Why would anyone want to know how to fake a lie detector test, UNLESS they were planning to encounter one in the Near FUTURE. Smithies...'nuf said.
Madame Vagina: Yeah those things aren't very reliable are they?
Self-Proclaimed Legend: It's better to use a human lie detector test than a machine. [As you can see everything I know is informed by TV...Lie to ME anyone? Fox Mondays 9PM. If Fox says its true then it is LAW.]
Trippin' on some shit: No if you are delusional enough to believe your own lies, you could pass. [I guess you would know, trippin' on some shit...like Acid]
Lizbeth Salander: That's true I guess.
Trippin' on some shit: Or you could just get really baked and then you'd be so mellow. [I take your word for it, you're the expert.]
Lizbeth Salander: Trippin' they make you take a drug test. [Duh...she didn't say that but she was probably thinking it.]
Self-proclaimed Legend: Is valium detected in drug tests?
Trippin' on some shit: No they can't detect it in basic drug tests. [Why am I surprised that she knows this?]
Self-proclaimed Legend: See, I would pop some valium and be as calm as a Hindu cow. [I'm pretty sure I still have that prescription Smith gave me. hmm]
Liz Lemon: Yeah they're not very reliable. I mean you could just be nervous about taking a lie detector test, BECAUSE it's a lie detector test and it's the F.B.I. Who wouldn't fail? [This wreaks of someone who took a lie detector test...and FAILED. Just saying.]
Trippin' on some shit: Or you could put yourself in a hypertensive state an it would fuck up the detectors. Everything would look the same.
Banksy: Wait a minute why are we talking about lie detectors?
Self-proclaimed Legend: Well I have to take one.
Banksy: What? Really? [She was a little alarmed at the fact that she may living amongst social deviants]
Self-proclaimed Legend: Yeah because the F.B.I thinks I'm a terrorist. [All brown people are terrorists aren't they?]
Banksy: Shut Up Self-proclaimed Legend. [I need to work on my pathological lying If I'm to get away with Shit in the future.]
{Lizbeth Salander went on to explain the conversation that you've already read to Banksy}
Self-proclaimed Legend: I'm not lying. I make bombs in my bedroom, getting ready to strap them on and blow something up. [I am seriously going to be deported for this Statement.]
Lizbeth Salander: But what would you blow up? I mean what reason do you have for blowing anything up? [Clearly she has yet to hack into my classified file]
Self-proclaimed Legend: I would blow Smith up. For fucking up my life and turning me into a crazy psycho person. In fact for turning us all into crazy fucked up people. Who are stressed out all the time with all this fucking WORK. I'm gonna go to Christ's (as in the president not the deity) now and say what up bitch? BOOM.
[ a) Way to project your feelings on to everyone else psycho, b) Yeah I'm sure that's exactly how the conversation will go down and c) WOW I really sound like a future cult leader.]
Trippin' on some shit: Yeah let's do it and then run away to Canada.
Liz Lemon: Yeah Canada is a great place to hide. [Is that sarcasm I hear or am I just paranoid?]
Susie Jones Geology Major: Because Canada is totally going to protect you from being extradited back to the U.S. [Ok so I'm not paranoid this is sarcasm.]
Self-proclaimed Legend: And I definitely won't stick out in Canada. [ Sarcasm reigns. I would totally stick out in Canada...because Canada is full of white people. How do I know this? No self respecting black person would ever voluntarily live in a country where Ice hockey is the national sport. How many black people do you see skating around with hockey sticks, hitting a puck?]
Trippin' on some shit: That's what reconstructive surgery is for? [Aha moment...we need to get this shit on Oprah's magazine]
Self-proclaimed Legend: Ooooh who would I be? (thinking, thinking, thinking) I'd be Michael Jackson. [Wow...you're really smart. Like people aren't going to notice a dead man walking?? I sadden myself sometimes.] I'd just make myself white that would confuse the shit out of them. They'd be like, "wait you're white, we're looking for a black person." [This is exactly how the conversation would go down.]
Trippin' on some Shit: That's good. Then I'd be a black person. [Ebony and Ivory together again ;)]
Liz Lemon: Wait that wouldn't work because they're looking for a black person and a white person so they'd just switch you guys around. [Goddamit why do smart people have to crush everyone's childish dreams with logic and reason and reality???]
Self-proclaimed Legend: Good Point. Trippin' you need to find another nationality. [I meant race or maybe ethnicity? Could somebody remind me what the new PC term is again?]
Trippin' on some shit: Oooh I could be Asian.
Self-proclaimed Legend: Perfect. That would really screw them up. They'd be like, " You're white and you're Asian. We're looking for black and white people." [It's such a great thing that I want to be a screenwriter because my dialogue skills are off the chain. I'm the next Aaron Sorkin baby.]
Trippin' on some shit: I'd have to bind my chest.
Self-proclaimed Legend: I'd just have to get Double D's because I can't really grind my boobs down. [GRIND??? really? I'm a little worried I have lost too many brain cells]
Liz Lemon: And, Self-proclaimed legend, if they can't make you white, they could whiten your skin enough that you'd look Latina.
NOTE: Smithies are so Smart we, in ten minutes, have done what no other terrorist organization has manged to do or think of doing in months of planning. Work out an escape plan. 'We don't get caught' is our tag line.
Self-proclaimed Legend: OMG. That's brilliant. That would even be more perfect. An Asian and a Latina. [This is so not racially inappropriate at all] We got this AND my ovaries would still be black so I can still have blasians. [Who knew that ovaries also came in different racial classifications? I did clearly.]
Susie Jones Geology Major: It was just a matter of time before the blasian topic came up. [Do I really talk about it that often?]
Self - proclaimed Legend: I love blasians so much. [I just answered my own question] They're so gorgeous. I only want beautiful babies. If I had ugly children I don't think I can handle it. [I guess you know which side of the Designer baby debate I fall on.]
Liz Lemon: Like the thundercat baby. [Why?? why do you hate me Liz? Why would you bring this shameful part of my life up? I have never done anything to you.]
Self-proclaimed Legend: Oh dear god. [I'm talking to myself again] That thundercat baby is so ugly its frightening. I'd have to get rid of IT. I guess that's what boarding school is for. [Whoever said that there are no ugly babies in this world has not seen the thundercat spawn of Chuckie. You'll give yourself a hysterectomy just knowing there might be a chance of such an atrocity squeezing out of your vagina. It could actually be used to promote Abstinence very successfully.]
Trippin on some Shit: (She points straight ahead without saying anything for a while, leaving us all wondering if she had gone mute.) That's what the hubbard dumpster is for. [When in doubt, look to the hubbard dumpsters]
Liz Lemon: (Color comes rushing back into her face) I thought you were pointing at me for a second and I was like I'm not taking care of that ugly thundercat baby. I don't want to raise it. [You're preaching to the Choir Liz.]
Susie Jones Geology Major: Or you could just send it out into drug dealing a lot earlier. Let's say 3 years old instead of 5.
Self-proclaimed Legend: That's true that's a good idea.
[You see my philosophy on children is that I only have to take care of them until they're like five. Then I can send them out into the world and tell them that they have to find their own means of providing for themselves because "mommy's money is mommy's money. If you wanna eat you have to make your own money." Of course I would make them pay rent if they wanted to continue living in my house. They need to learn the value of a dollar...the earlier the better.]
Liz Lemon: Wait if Trippin' is going to be Asian and then go on to have gender reconstructive surgery then you and Legend could have blasians. [ 1 + 1 = 2 right? No Liz not quite. Not this time. Why? you ask.]
Self-proclaimed Legend:No because her sperm would still be white. [That's why. Sperm is also racially classified. It's a very new discovery. Very few people have heard about it.] I'm just going to have to find myself an Asian man or go to a sperm bank.
Madame Vagina: Well what about genetic anomalies? Even with Asian sperm you could still have a black baby. I mean two black people can even have a white baby. [Dear Madame Vagina, I never knew dominatrix sex workers were smart. Are you one of those girls who 'pays' her way through college by stripping?]
Self-proclaimed Legend: hmm true.
Liz Lemon: Wait why are we talking about sperm banks and artificial incemination when we have a geneticist in the room? [Let's Euphamise it Liz, you mean 'Eugenicist' don't you? I know it's not the PC thing to say but i know you mean. wink. Who's the 'geneticist' you ask? That's a secret I'll never tell. XOXO Gossip girl]
WOW. What a tantric session. There is nothing like a delayed orgasm to make you feel great. ;) Now back to (non-virtual) reality. I know that Eugenics and Designer babies are not really a 'PC' topic. But think about it...do you really want an ugly baby? Babies are like accessories, they're supposed to be pretty. Designer babies are all the rage this season. And it's a known fact that beautiful people have better, happier lives. [With good reason] Looks are everything no body cares about brains. Why would you force your child to have a hard, painful life filled with ridicule and torment? That's not very nice of you. A good parent would do anything to have the best for their child, wouldn't they? The best = Beautiful. 'nuf said.
So in summation. If you ever find yourself in compromising position (not the good kind) at least now you know how to lie your way through a lie detector test and if when you do decide to have baby someday, consult your local Eugenicist...it'll be good for you and the baby.
Good night, good luck and remember when in doubt...ask a fellow washburnite. We have all the answers all day e'eryday. 'nuf said.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
GOD is that you?
Yes it is! And I am a SHE. I use the pronoun she because the myth of my being a man has been perpetuated for far too long and being the feminist that I am, I have grown to resent it. For many years while I was still experimenting with my gender identity it didn't really matter to me. Today I could me a man, tomorrow maybe not. I was fluid like that. But recently I have settled on an identity that I believe truly encompasses my being. I am a strong black woman and motherfucking proud of it. Now by choosing this identity I am in no way invalidating those who do not wish to fit into gender molds...in fact all power to you. I mean if GOD can do it, so can you right? True to a certain extent...we may have experienced similar journey's in life BUT do not be mistaken we are not equals. I live in the sky for a reason...I am above you, I get to look down on you and at you. You live on earth for a reason...you are below me, you get to look up to me and at me (adoringly, in awe and fearfully). The class system, racism, sexism and all other forms of ism's took their notes from my power structure. There is no such thing as an original idea in this world.
By being a strong black woman I am also, in no way trying to shun the male species but after watching the human race for eons, contrary to popular belief, i have learned that the male species is quite inferior and as GOD inferiority is not in my genetic code. =)I still love the male species, don't get me wrong and many of my good friends are men, but sometimes when I look at them I lose all hope for the human race. Don't hang your heads in shame men of the world it's only sometimes. And lastly my being a strong black woman does not say anything negative about the white race but I've already been white (according to the BIBLE, even though Jesus was Mediterranean) and a man...it's a new era and it's time for a change. Like Obama I am the new "black" face in a job position that was previously dominated by white men.
So now that I have exposed myself (even in a post about GODLINESS I cannot escape sexual connotations...nobody is perfect including GOD in human from) I would like you to all know that I am not a completely moral GOD, flattery, bribes and generally corrupt activity is welcome. The only way to get a ticket into heaven is to buy one...heaven's upkeep is a lot more expensive than you might think. You're GOD you can do anything can't you? YES I can but like BUSH during the first year of his presidency I prefer to spend a good chunk of my "work" doing nothing but playing golf, drinking (secretly) and being a lazy bum. After building the earth in seven days I think I deserve an eternity of rest.
I'm sure that many of you have millions of questions for me now that I am present in human form so even though I am busy, I will try to answer them. Count yourselves lucky though because generally I don't care enough to listen let alone answer. Some may ask why don't I solve the world's problems? Well the simple answer here is it's just far too much fun watching the human race fuck up. Y'all are hilarious. You are my only source of entertainment (reality TV seems to have caught on down here aswell) and trust if you could see yourselves the jersey shore would pail in comparison to your antics. We have weekly viewing parties at your expense and without fail Gabriel always ends up peeing in his pants. It's quite embarrassing actually I have tried to get him to get help for his uncontrollable bladder problems but alas angel's don't like to admit that they are imperfect and contrary to popular belief they don't always listen to me just because I am GOD. Has anyone ever heard of Lucifer and his demons? But he shall not be cast out of heaven because drenching my robes in urine is not as punishable an offense as trying to stage a coup'.
Why do I let the human race run riot, being despicable and generally screwing each other (there it is again...sexual connotation #2)? I made a bad business decision a long time ago with Adam and Eve, signing a contract giving man free will. Even GOD has to adhere to the terms of the contracts she signs. Yes they did disobey me but when I scolded them they made a proposition I couldn't refuse. Give us free will and we will be the greatest entertainment on earth and since up until then I had been bored out of my wits looking at perfection 24/7 for quite sometime, I couldn't refuse.
Another question might be are you a loving God or a vengeful God? Back in the good old days they had it right. I am a spiteful, vengeful, lightning bolt wielding motherfucker. Being feared and worshiped is what I get off (#3)on. I have an EGO, sue me. So be afraid be very afraid and stay in line or else I might not be so welcoming when you get to my extravagant, gold paved and diamond encrusted paradise. Inciting fear is the best way to maintain power and control (and i love power and control...admit it you totally want to be me). I have a power and control over everything; life & death, happiness & sadness, the weather even whether or not your new color dye will turn out the way it looks on the box or if you'll walk out the salon with orange hair. Although at Smith College most wouldn't find that to be a problem. Again the principle of inciting fear to gain and maintain control and power is one that has been stolen from me by dictators, totalitarians, fascists, George W. Bush and the Republican party. Stick with what works. The notion of my being a loving, caring, forgiving god who only wants you to "try' your best is all a bunch of progressive, liberal, flower power bullshit! Ever since the 60's ushered in an era of free love, tolerance, acceptance and progressive thinking I was suddenly made out to be some kind of cuddly, cute, long skirt wearing, hand-holding, flower throwing, full of "all things sugar and spice" kind of GOD. Where is the fun in that? Nowhere. Do not let the liberal Media brainwash you...listen to Sarah Palin she has the right idea.
Lastly you my ask...what should we call you, GOD, JESUS, BUDDHA, MOHAMED, ALLAH, KRISHNA or many of the other names people have come up with? I say, "a rose by any other name is still a rose." HAHAHAHA. Gotcha. You almost believed that I was actually a bleeding liberal for a second. A rose by any other name is then whatever ever other name you use to call it. I am a Christian GOD and if you don't get your ass in gear and fall in line you will burn in hell, heathens!! [America and 20% of Europeans have it right].I'm kidding (every Christian heart just sank...sorry, I did tell you that I was a cruel practical joker though). I am more of a politician than that. I pander to whichever religion gives me the most worship, devotion, fear, sacrifice and riches. It changes every decade or so it's a pretty fair race. If you are lucky enough to have been a part of the winning religion at your time of death...welcome to heaven. If not, maybe you should've spent more time fostering fanaticism within your religion instead of just "trying" to be a good person. Atheists and agnostics have a lot of work to do as they are consistently in the bottom two.
That will be the last of my answers for this blog post (as it is way too long as it is) but if you have anymore you are more than welcome to send me a facebook message or an email and I will get back to you as soon as I feel like it. I don't answer phone calls, texts or prayers (well rarely anyway) because a) that is soooo last decade and b) my answers would then have to be immediate, so if i get emails and facebook messages I can answer at my own discretion. That's just how I roll.
Good night, Good luck and remember go out, preach the good word [whatever that means to you as i have learned that "good" is in fact a relative term (apparently most words are0...thanks liberal arts education], be afraid and don't forget to earn me some riches. ;)
By being a strong black woman I am also, in no way trying to shun the male species but after watching the human race for eons, contrary to popular belief, i have learned that the male species is quite inferior and as GOD inferiority is not in my genetic code. =)I still love the male species, don't get me wrong and many of my good friends are men, but sometimes when I look at them I lose all hope for the human race. Don't hang your heads in shame men of the world it's only sometimes. And lastly my being a strong black woman does not say anything negative about the white race but I've already been white (according to the BIBLE, even though Jesus was Mediterranean) and a man...it's a new era and it's time for a change. Like Obama I am the new "black" face in a job position that was previously dominated by white men.
So now that I have exposed myself (even in a post about GODLINESS I cannot escape sexual connotations...nobody is perfect including GOD in human from) I would like you to all know that I am not a completely moral GOD, flattery, bribes and generally corrupt activity is welcome. The only way to get a ticket into heaven is to buy one...heaven's upkeep is a lot more expensive than you might think. You're GOD you can do anything can't you? YES I can but like BUSH during the first year of his presidency I prefer to spend a good chunk of my "work" doing nothing but playing golf, drinking (secretly) and being a lazy bum. After building the earth in seven days I think I deserve an eternity of rest.
I'm sure that many of you have millions of questions for me now that I am present in human form so even though I am busy, I will try to answer them. Count yourselves lucky though because generally I don't care enough to listen let alone answer. Some may ask why don't I solve the world's problems? Well the simple answer here is it's just far too much fun watching the human race fuck up. Y'all are hilarious. You are my only source of entertainment (reality TV seems to have caught on down here aswell) and trust if you could see yourselves the jersey shore would pail in comparison to your antics. We have weekly viewing parties at your expense and without fail Gabriel always ends up peeing in his pants. It's quite embarrassing actually I have tried to get him to get help for his uncontrollable bladder problems but alas angel's don't like to admit that they are imperfect and contrary to popular belief they don't always listen to me just because I am GOD. Has anyone ever heard of Lucifer and his demons? But he shall not be cast out of heaven because drenching my robes in urine is not as punishable an offense as trying to stage a coup'.
Why do I let the human race run riot, being despicable and generally screwing each other (there it is again...sexual connotation #2)? I made a bad business decision a long time ago with Adam and Eve, signing a contract giving man free will. Even GOD has to adhere to the terms of the contracts she signs. Yes they did disobey me but when I scolded them they made a proposition I couldn't refuse. Give us free will and we will be the greatest entertainment on earth and since up until then I had been bored out of my wits looking at perfection 24/7 for quite sometime, I couldn't refuse.
Another question might be are you a loving God or a vengeful God? Back in the good old days they had it right. I am a spiteful, vengeful, lightning bolt wielding motherfucker. Being feared and worshiped is what I get off (#3)on. I have an EGO, sue me. So be afraid be very afraid and stay in line or else I might not be so welcoming when you get to my extravagant, gold paved and diamond encrusted paradise. Inciting fear is the best way to maintain power and control (and i love power and control...admit it you totally want to be me). I have a power and control over everything; life & death, happiness & sadness, the weather even whether or not your new color dye will turn out the way it looks on the box or if you'll walk out the salon with orange hair. Although at Smith College most wouldn't find that to be a problem. Again the principle of inciting fear to gain and maintain control and power is one that has been stolen from me by dictators, totalitarians, fascists, George W. Bush and the Republican party. Stick with what works. The notion of my being a loving, caring, forgiving god who only wants you to "try' your best is all a bunch of progressive, liberal, flower power bullshit! Ever since the 60's ushered in an era of free love, tolerance, acceptance and progressive thinking I was suddenly made out to be some kind of cuddly, cute, long skirt wearing, hand-holding, flower throwing, full of "all things sugar and spice" kind of GOD. Where is the fun in that? Nowhere. Do not let the liberal Media brainwash you...listen to Sarah Palin she has the right idea.
Lastly you my ask...what should we call you, GOD, JESUS, BUDDHA, MOHAMED, ALLAH, KRISHNA or many of the other names people have come up with? I say, "a rose by any other name is still a rose." HAHAHAHA. Gotcha. You almost believed that I was actually a bleeding liberal for a second. A rose by any other name is then whatever ever other name you use to call it. I am a Christian GOD and if you don't get your ass in gear and fall in line you will burn in hell, heathens!! [America and 20% of Europeans have it right].I'm kidding (every Christian heart just sank...sorry, I did tell you that I was a cruel practical joker though). I am more of a politician than that. I pander to whichever religion gives me the most worship, devotion, fear, sacrifice and riches. It changes every decade or so it's a pretty fair race. If you are lucky enough to have been a part of the winning religion at your time of death...welcome to heaven. If not, maybe you should've spent more time fostering fanaticism within your religion instead of just "trying" to be a good person. Atheists and agnostics have a lot of work to do as they are consistently in the bottom two.
That will be the last of my answers for this blog post (as it is way too long as it is) but if you have anymore you are more than welcome to send me a facebook message or an email and I will get back to you as soon as I feel like it. I don't answer phone calls, texts or prayers (well rarely anyway) because a) that is soooo last decade and b) my answers would then have to be immediate, so if i get emails and facebook messages I can answer at my own discretion. That's just how I roll.
Good night, Good luck and remember go out, preach the good word [whatever that means to you as i have learned that "good" is in fact a relative term (apparently most words are0...thanks liberal arts education], be afraid and don't forget to earn me some riches. ;)
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Post-mature Ejaculation
We have been apart for far too long my friends, it's tantamount to having sex on tap and then suddenly one day your usually leaky faucet of a sex toy dries up and refuses to dance on command. A blue vagina is a very painful thing. So even though I am not back in Washburn...yet, I thought a little holiday filler would be much appreciated. As much as this means that the usual horny suspects are not involved (myself excluded) wherever I am the topic of sex seems to follow me everywhere...even though I'm not enjoying the benfits of actually having it. They say talk is cheap but at this current moment in my life, where all pockets and fluids have dried up, it is all I can afford. I can't even rub two cents together to buy a minute with a gigilo - this is how you know you have hit rock bottom.
The holidays are filled with love, laughter, alcohol (sadly alcohol only assists in helping one forget about everything but the one thing that one really wants to forget i.e. you're horny but still not getting laid) and good people all around but most importantly presents. Lots and lots of presents. An explosion if you will or rather an ejaculation of presents. I'm sure most of us lonely, sexually frustrated smith girls were hoping to find a dildo or two, maybe a vilgo or some extra anal nitrate to masturbate with but alas those dreams did not come to pass. Even for me. I guess it's a good thing because the last thing one wants to receive from santa is a big ol' message saying..."even I couldn't find you a penis this year, this is the closest you're gonna get to a porking." This would've been very disturbing for many reasons,the first being that god grew too tired of listening to my nightly pleas for a man, any man even a homless one that he passed the job on to the minion who is meant to take over for him while he is off partying up a storm, turning water into wine, puking on gabriels robes and having his dear son (the birthday boy) put him to bed as he was too wasted to find his own way back. This sounds like a night in most households during this time of year, so don't judge the holy family. Joan Osborne asked the question...what if god was one of us? This would be my answer. Now if god and santa can't save you from your lack of a sex life, then you're fresh out of luck, a miracle or a prayer. It's just you and your hand for life. The second reason that such a present from santa would be disturbing is that the news of your sexlessness made it to the north pole!! They don't even have email in the north pole. How the fuck did word get around to them?? So I guess even though your stocking wasn't stuffed ;)the way you wanted it to be there are some things you can be grateful for.
This year we had a very belated extended family present giving celebration (hence the title) which I had been giddily looking forward to since I heard that one of my presents was highly inappropriate...(finally someone who read my mind and bought me a night at the local brothel) i was engorged with anticipation. Nobody appreciates inappropriate more than I do. My mind was racing with possibilities, amazing possibilities, i even had wonderful wet dreams about these possibilities. Needless to say today was the day and it was fabulous. My heart was pounding as I tore off the wrapping paper to find..."The sexy book of sexy sex." Orgasmic. This book was made for me, made for all of us who can't have sex so are incarcerated to read, write and hear about it. Note: Washburnites as much as sharing is caring there are some things I am not will to pass around for free. My men? Yes. This book? $5 lending fee,
for insurance purposes ofcourse. But trust me it is worth every penny. It is so inappropriate that some of the contents even made me blush (and you know how hard it is to make a black woman blush). I wish i coud discuss it here but I don't want to be deported for distributing pornographic content. Now the present giver was a little worried that this present was a little inappropriate for him to give to me as it could have incestuous conotations. But i did not take it that way...so you can breathe a sigh of relief G,I have never been under any illusion that you are mormon. But the present had to be explained to the rest of the family as they did not have the context of my being a sex-crazed lunatic. Damnit there goes my pure as snow, butter wouldn't melt in my mouth, angelic persona that I try to put out (heehee) to those (specifically anyone over the age of 30, religious folks and republicans) who wouldn't relate. The following explanation was given:
G: Now please know that I didn't really realize until I read it how much more inappropriate it was then I originally thought.
E: So when G and I went shopping and he showed me the book he was so worried that it was a little inappropriate to give to the self-procaliamed legend. And I said that it was but the self-proclaimed legend is a big enough pervert to appreciate it. (How did she know? I must've forced her to read my blog at some point...like I do to all my friends).
She knows me too well. She hit the nail on the head.Considering that she is my best fried and we were roommates our freshman year, I am not surprised. We know each other inside and out. And for those of you who just had dirty image flash through your minds...shame on you!! There are alot of kinky, nasty things I would be willing to try...but incest is not one of them. ;)
So I sign off by giving some unsolicited last words...Holiday weight gain = hundreds of dollars to lose (mostly spent on ineffective weight loss shakes, pills and food delivery services), giving chritmas presents = far too much for all of our pockets to survive but getting the perfect guide to a life i can only fanticize about = priceless.
For all of those who will be lending this book out from me please try not to stain it and make sure you live alone...your roomate might not appreciate your squeals of ecstacy.
Good night, good luck and keep it tight...just incase. =)
The holidays are filled with love, laughter, alcohol (sadly alcohol only assists in helping one forget about everything but the one thing that one really wants to forget i.e. you're horny but still not getting laid) and good people all around but most importantly presents. Lots and lots of presents. An explosion if you will or rather an ejaculation of presents. I'm sure most of us lonely, sexually frustrated smith girls were hoping to find a dildo or two, maybe a vilgo or some extra anal nitrate to masturbate with but alas those dreams did not come to pass. Even for me. I guess it's a good thing because the last thing one wants to receive from santa is a big ol' message saying..."even I couldn't find you a penis this year, this is the closest you're gonna get to a porking." This would've been very disturbing for many reasons,the first being that god grew too tired of listening to my nightly pleas for a man, any man even a homless one that he passed the job on to the minion who is meant to take over for him while he is off partying up a storm, turning water into wine, puking on gabriels robes and having his dear son (the birthday boy) put him to bed as he was too wasted to find his own way back. This sounds like a night in most households during this time of year, so don't judge the holy family. Joan Osborne asked the question...what if god was one of us? This would be my answer. Now if god and santa can't save you from your lack of a sex life, then you're fresh out of luck, a miracle or a prayer. It's just you and your hand for life. The second reason that such a present from santa would be disturbing is that the news of your sexlessness made it to the north pole!! They don't even have email in the north pole. How the fuck did word get around to them?? So I guess even though your stocking wasn't stuffed ;)the way you wanted it to be there are some things you can be grateful for.
This year we had a very belated extended family present giving celebration (hence the title) which I had been giddily looking forward to since I heard that one of my presents was highly inappropriate...(finally someone who read my mind and bought me a night at the local brothel) i was engorged with anticipation. Nobody appreciates inappropriate more than I do. My mind was racing with possibilities, amazing possibilities, i even had wonderful wet dreams about these possibilities. Needless to say today was the day and it was fabulous. My heart was pounding as I tore off the wrapping paper to find..."The sexy book of sexy sex." Orgasmic. This book was made for me, made for all of us who can't have sex so are incarcerated to read, write and hear about it. Note: Washburnites as much as sharing is caring there are some things I am not will to pass around for free. My men? Yes. This book? $5 lending fee,
for insurance purposes ofcourse. But trust me it is worth every penny. It is so inappropriate that some of the contents even made me blush (and you know how hard it is to make a black woman blush). I wish i coud discuss it here but I don't want to be deported for distributing pornographic content. Now the present giver was a little worried that this present was a little inappropriate for him to give to me as it could have incestuous conotations. But i did not take it that way...so you can breathe a sigh of relief G,I have never been under any illusion that you are mormon. But the present had to be explained to the rest of the family as they did not have the context of my being a sex-crazed lunatic. Damnit there goes my pure as snow, butter wouldn't melt in my mouth, angelic persona that I try to put out (heehee) to those (specifically anyone over the age of 30, religious folks and republicans) who wouldn't relate. The following explanation was given:
G: Now please know that I didn't really realize until I read it how much more inappropriate it was then I originally thought.
E: So when G and I went shopping and he showed me the book he was so worried that it was a little inappropriate to give to the self-procaliamed legend. And I said that it was but the self-proclaimed legend is a big enough pervert to appreciate it. (How did she know? I must've forced her to read my blog at some point...like I do to all my friends).
She knows me too well. She hit the nail on the head.Considering that she is my best fried and we were roommates our freshman year, I am not surprised. We know each other inside and out. And for those of you who just had dirty image flash through your minds...shame on you!! There are alot of kinky, nasty things I would be willing to try...but incest is not one of them. ;)
So I sign off by giving some unsolicited last words...Holiday weight gain = hundreds of dollars to lose (mostly spent on ineffective weight loss shakes, pills and food delivery services), giving chritmas presents = far too much for all of our pockets to survive but getting the perfect guide to a life i can only fanticize about = priceless.
For all of those who will be lending this book out from me please try not to stain it and make sure you live alone...your roomate might not appreciate your squeals of ecstacy.
Good night, good luck and keep it tight...just incase. =)
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
The Vagoner Soliloquies
Performance anxiety, whether at school on stage or especially in the bedroom, is something that plagues most of us. Most of us won’t admit it but it does. Being the over-achieving, high-functioning, consistently perfect, step-ford wives in training (a.k.a Republicans) and save the world one picket at a time or (more likely) arm-chair activists (a.k.a bleeding heart liberals) that we are, it would go against our perfect smith college woman ideal that we are nurtured to be, to admit any kind of insecurity (how dare you call me weak, it’s because I’m a woman isn’t it?), anxiety or slight defect of character (Lo and behold somebody finds out I am not superhuman). All that talk about being perfect in our imperfections is for other people, other people who are actually incapable of being flawless (those lesser beings), we on the other hand can dream the impossible dream and attain it, mind you. Why? Because we’re Smith College women that’s how we roll. There is nothing we can’t do so performance anxiety is not something we can understand.
A conversation we (by we, I mean those pseudonymed people - whose real identities you’re not sure of but have been trying to figure out - whom I write about in every blog) had ,sometime last week – I think it was last week I’m not really sure [ Let’s just say we had a conversation sometime, somewhere and there were people involved because my concept of time and date has completely left the building, like God after midnight at Washburn] – revolved around that little blue helper we like to call Viagra. Ew, you protest, Viagra is for old people; and by old people I mean your parents and grandparents...thank me for that image later.=) Why would perfectly virile, young and gorgeous (don’t hate the playa hate the genes =) women be talking about Viagra? Well a) we’re unpredictable like that, just when you think you know us…we pull a Kansas city shuffle on you b) Dr. Hannibal Lecter joined the midnight circle and knowing her sexually deviant ways I guess you shouldn’t be too surprised and c) Because none of us had ever tried it and we being the inquisitive and intelligent minds that we are (we have a thirst for knowledge no matter how insignificant that knowledge may be to us at this age) , we wanted to know how it would affect us. (We’d make great lab rats by the way).
The player’s in that particular conversation were oddly vulgar (one of our blog virgins, I feel so honored that she chose us to pop her cherry), Dr. Hannibal Lecter (who I mentioned earlier walked in while we were having a perfectly normal conversation and had to turn it into some sick, twisted sexual excursion), Trippin’ on some shit (who is always up to try any pill, powder or liquid that might slightly alter her state of mind or body…she lives the life of a rockstar but without the guitar), If you seek Amy (who had migrated to the other room in hopes of getting away from the gaggle of geese sitting next to her because for some unknown reason she seems to think that homework is far more important than wasting time doing nothing…I feel like I don’t even know her anymore) and your ever gracious voyeur into the world of washburn crazy, Self-proclaimed Legend.
Oddly Vulgar: I am having performance anxiety about being on this blog. (Somebody should mention to her that we do not mention such things in public)
Dr. Hannibal Lecter: There’s a cure for that…VIAGRA. (Why? Why did you have to make me think about old people sex!! God damit I’m going to need to wash my extremely visual mind out with acid now.)
Trippin’ on some shit: What happens if you’re a woman and you take Viagra? (The inquiring minds begin engaging. Lock, load and shoot. BTW that pun was completely intended, well-thought out and beautifully placed. Sometimes my genius scares me!)
If you seek Amy: It makes your clitoris really large. (Nobody heard what she said because she was sitting a little too far away from us. Lesson to the wise: You can try and avoid the crazy, but the crazy will suck you in.)
Self-proclaimed Legend: You probably get really horny. I’d do that. (Ofcourse I would…have you met me and my sexual frustration?)
Dr. Hannibal Lecter: Aren’t you guys already horny? (Do we really talk about it that much? This is bordering on desperation!)
Self-proclaimed Legend: Well I’d wait until I get a man, then take it, get really horny and it would last like five hours. (Tantric sex here I come…budumcha)
Oddly Vulgar: I heard that it makes you really weirdly tingly down there. (Like the responsible one among us who doesn’t jump on every pill just to try it out she tried to warn us about the side effects)
Self-proclaimed Legend: I’m all for that shit. It’s like a vibrator. (What an astute observation…viagra is exactly like a vibrator???? )
Oddly vulgar: No it’s a weird tingle. (Quite frankly as long as there is some action done there, weird or not, I’m all for it. My vagina is not happy with me at the moment!!)
Self-proclaimed Legend: Wait a minute what did you say happens If you seek Amy? (I told you, you can’t run away from the crazy…no matter how hard you try it will hunt you down.)
If you seek Amy: I said it makes your clitoris really large.
Self-proclaimed Legend: What happens when your clitoris gets large? Does it mean bigger penis’s can fit in it. (ooh la la, somebody find me a large black man =)
Trippin’ on some shit: It means that if you touch it would feel like this….(Insert: orgasm face).
Dr. Hannibal Lecter: It’s an erectile. It has erectile tissue in it so it would get aroused. (Side note: She’s calling vaginal tissue “it”, too many of us have become influenced by the drug tank podcast.)
Trippin' on some shit: You’ll have a vagoner.
Hilarity ensues. We can always rely on Trippin’ on some shit to pull out a trump card one-liner.
This conversation, like the Vagina Monologues, was all about female empowerment, but to be more specific vagina empowerment. If men can get a boner, we can get a vagoner! Didn’t I say there is nothing we can’t do? For those who do suffer from performance anxiety, especially in the bedroom (Again smithies this does not apply to you BUT we can sympathize), sneak into your grandparents medicine cabinet one day, steal a couple of little blue helpers (they probably won’t notice because old age makes you forget things, including how much sex you’ve had) and pop away. Not on your own of course that would make you something akin to an alcoholic (drinking/popping alone = the first signs of a problem) BUT with a loved one or a complete stranger (whatever rocks your boat. No judgment here…we understand) and have the time of your life. Locked, loaded and shooting all night long. If the effects are less than desired e.g. ending up in hospital with a vagoner that lasts longer than 4 hours or worse yet in a coma just know… I didn’t say shit! That would be my official statement and this blog cannot be used as evidence against me. If the effects are orgasmic then do tell, details are very important too, we have no boundaries and no understanding of the acronym TMI. Why don’t you try it you ask? Slow down crazy, slow down…I would never be that reckless with my life but I have no qualms being reckless with yours.
So goodnight, good luck and remember age restrictions aren’t there to protect us they are only there to stop us from having fun…don’t let the man stop you from having fun.
A conversation we (by we, I mean those pseudonymed people - whose real identities you’re not sure of but have been trying to figure out - whom I write about in every blog) had ,sometime last week – I think it was last week I’m not really sure [ Let’s just say we had a conversation sometime, somewhere and there were people involved because my concept of time and date has completely left the building, like God after midnight at Washburn] – revolved around that little blue helper we like to call Viagra. Ew, you protest, Viagra is for old people; and by old people I mean your parents and grandparents...thank me for that image later.=) Why would perfectly virile, young and gorgeous (don’t hate the playa hate the genes =) women be talking about Viagra? Well a) we’re unpredictable like that, just when you think you know us…we pull a Kansas city shuffle on you b) Dr. Hannibal Lecter joined the midnight circle and knowing her sexually deviant ways I guess you shouldn’t be too surprised and c) Because none of us had ever tried it and we being the inquisitive and intelligent minds that we are (we have a thirst for knowledge no matter how insignificant that knowledge may be to us at this age) , we wanted to know how it would affect us. (We’d make great lab rats by the way).
The player’s in that particular conversation were oddly vulgar (one of our blog virgins, I feel so honored that she chose us to pop her cherry), Dr. Hannibal Lecter (who I mentioned earlier walked in while we were having a perfectly normal conversation and had to turn it into some sick, twisted sexual excursion), Trippin’ on some shit (who is always up to try any pill, powder or liquid that might slightly alter her state of mind or body…she lives the life of a rockstar but without the guitar), If you seek Amy (who had migrated to the other room in hopes of getting away from the gaggle of geese sitting next to her because for some unknown reason she seems to think that homework is far more important than wasting time doing nothing…I feel like I don’t even know her anymore) and your ever gracious voyeur into the world of washburn crazy, Self-proclaimed Legend.
Oddly Vulgar: I am having performance anxiety about being on this blog. (Somebody should mention to her that we do not mention such things in public)
Dr. Hannibal Lecter: There’s a cure for that…VIAGRA. (Why? Why did you have to make me think about old people sex!! God damit I’m going to need to wash my extremely visual mind out with acid now.)
Trippin’ on some shit: What happens if you’re a woman and you take Viagra? (The inquiring minds begin engaging. Lock, load and shoot. BTW that pun was completely intended, well-thought out and beautifully placed. Sometimes my genius scares me!)
If you seek Amy: It makes your clitoris really large. (Nobody heard what she said because she was sitting a little too far away from us. Lesson to the wise: You can try and avoid the crazy, but the crazy will suck you in.)
Self-proclaimed Legend: You probably get really horny. I’d do that. (Ofcourse I would…have you met me and my sexual frustration?)
Dr. Hannibal Lecter: Aren’t you guys already horny? (Do we really talk about it that much? This is bordering on desperation!)
Self-proclaimed Legend: Well I’d wait until I get a man, then take it, get really horny and it would last like five hours. (Tantric sex here I come…budumcha)
Oddly Vulgar: I heard that it makes you really weirdly tingly down there. (Like the responsible one among us who doesn’t jump on every pill just to try it out she tried to warn us about the side effects)
Self-proclaimed Legend: I’m all for that shit. It’s like a vibrator. (What an astute observation…viagra is exactly like a vibrator???? )
Oddly vulgar: No it’s a weird tingle. (Quite frankly as long as there is some action done there, weird or not, I’m all for it. My vagina is not happy with me at the moment!!)
Self-proclaimed Legend: Wait a minute what did you say happens If you seek Amy? (I told you, you can’t run away from the crazy…no matter how hard you try it will hunt you down.)
If you seek Amy: I said it makes your clitoris really large.
Self-proclaimed Legend: What happens when your clitoris gets large? Does it mean bigger penis’s can fit in it. (ooh la la, somebody find me a large black man =)
Trippin’ on some shit: It means that if you touch it would feel like this….(Insert: orgasm face).
Dr. Hannibal Lecter: It’s an erectile. It has erectile tissue in it so it would get aroused. (Side note: She’s calling vaginal tissue “it”, too many of us have become influenced by the drug tank podcast.)
Trippin' on some shit: You’ll have a vagoner.
Hilarity ensues. We can always rely on Trippin’ on some shit to pull out a trump card one-liner.
This conversation, like the Vagina Monologues, was all about female empowerment, but to be more specific vagina empowerment. If men can get a boner, we can get a vagoner! Didn’t I say there is nothing we can’t do? For those who do suffer from performance anxiety, especially in the bedroom (Again smithies this does not apply to you BUT we can sympathize), sneak into your grandparents medicine cabinet one day, steal a couple of little blue helpers (they probably won’t notice because old age makes you forget things, including how much sex you’ve had) and pop away. Not on your own of course that would make you something akin to an alcoholic (drinking/popping alone = the first signs of a problem) BUT with a loved one or a complete stranger (whatever rocks your boat. No judgment here…we understand) and have the time of your life. Locked, loaded and shooting all night long. If the effects are less than desired e.g. ending up in hospital with a vagoner that lasts longer than 4 hours or worse yet in a coma just know… I didn’t say shit! That would be my official statement and this blog cannot be used as evidence against me. If the effects are orgasmic then do tell, details are very important too, we have no boundaries and no understanding of the acronym TMI. Why don’t you try it you ask? Slow down crazy, slow down…I would never be that reckless with my life but I have no qualms being reckless with yours.
So goodnight, good luck and remember age restrictions aren’t there to protect us they are only there to stop us from having fun…don’t let the man stop you from having fun.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Crack is Whack!
A Smith One card is like an all access pass to a life of beyond your wildest dreams. A life where you have food, a place to sleep, where you can print (provided you have money on the card), where you can do laundry, access the vending machines, be a part of something greater than yourself. Didn't I tell you it was beyond your wildest dreams? As much as Smith College tries to claim that elitism does not exist on this campus (Hence the banning of Sororities, because some how they foster a culture of "I am better than you.") nothing says I am better than you more than a small plastic card that says you belong. And those that don't have one are not invited to the party (The most awesome fucking party in the world). Granted every Smith student has a one card but what happens when you lose it? Well according to Smith you are no longer a part of this community, you are rejected, you are no longer allowed to eat, sleep here(As in most cases one cannot access their dorms without one) or do anything that is necessary for survival. Basically you are condemned to being a skinny homeless person that nobody cares about UNTIL you pay $20 for a new one. 20 motherfucking, we are here to exploit your as much as we can, dollars. I remember the days, those good ol' days, when replacing a one card cost a mere $5 (enough to feed a family of five with a 99c burger each). And no it wasn't in the early 90's, it was 2006 where we ran through fields of flowers without a care in the world - except for student loans. Paying $20 dollars for a piece of plastic seems a little egregious, even if they do let you change your picture whenever you want (which is a pretty sweet deal for those of us who like prison escapee's when a camera flashes, I'm not talking about myself obviously =)
Last night what had happened was; If you seek Amy lost her one card in the crack of the Washburn porch. Change Washburn porch to your ass and you have a dirty joke, you can thank me later =). Pandemonium ensued, pandemonium of the H1N1 virus kind. But when a damsel is in distress who you gonna call? Washburn@midnight. Last night's player's were If you seek Amy (the damsel in distress), the self-proclaimed legend (who's job it was to document this moment of crisis, sometimes being a hero requires some sacrifice), Susie Jones Geology Major (a.k.a I can navigate any crack on a hard surface), Janet (If you don't get this reference by now, I don't know how can live with yourself), Trippin' on some shit (who was particularly strung out last night - from stress not heroine) and Snacktime (She's like a human human garbage disposal, not that she eats garbage...Smith food is far too gourmet to be referred to as garbage).
Our first response was to Call public safety (as in we are scared of mannequin with no arms and legs public safety)..and this is how the conversation went:
Public Safety: There's nothing we can do, you're just going to have to buy a new one. (For $20!!)
Click (that's the sound the phone makes when it disconnects =) What were we to do?
If you seek Amy: Fuck that shit. I’m getting that shit myself.
So the suggestions from brilliant minds (Brilliant Einstein like minds), came pouring out.
Janet: Get a trowel or a coat hanger
Self-proclaimed Legend: What’s a trowel? (As a non-American many things need to be explained to me, as I have no understanding of the silly words you people use. =)
Janet: It’s like a small spade.
As nobody thought that they would find themselves in this predicament - silly girls- nobody thought to pack a trowel when they were leaving for college. But not to fear, Janet's next brilliant idea came forth with lightning speed.
Janet: Somebody get me a coat hanger.
Susie Jones Geology Major: So you guys are performing illegal abortions again. (A reference to last night's blog)
Oh the wit, and ingenuity of Smith students. If our health insurance won't cover it anymore, we'll do this shit ourselves.
Susie Jones Geology Major: Get some lighter fluid. (Because a Smith one card is that important to us we are willing to burn down the house to get it back. Sorry washburnites, most of us would've have gotten out though)
Trippin' on some shit: Somebody get me some boots and I’ll kick it in.
Self-Proclaimed Legend: You can’t kick the new porch in. (This was before my magic finger's started tapping away at the computer, trying to capture this moment...which meant that this was the last time I spoke for the night. I told you being a hero has it's sacrifices.)
Janet: Do you wanna get sued for like 700 dollars? (Beat) oh, oh who has a flashlight. (The speed at which she spouts new ideas is beyond comprehension. She is like that annoying kid in class who always knew the answers.)
So If you seek Amy and Janet, torch in hand, run with a purpose that is often not existent in most of us when it comes to doing our school work and head to the porch. They return a few minute's later, with us having been waiting in bated breath.
If you seek Amy: I located it. (A flash light often has that effect in the dark).
Trippin on some shit: So did you get it back.
If you seek Amy: No I just know where it is.
Susie Jones Geology Major: How does that help?
If you seek Amy: Don’t sass me right now. (Oh If you seek Amy, sass is part of our charm)
If you seek Amy's eyes dart to a pair of Scissors lying on the floor. She quickly retreives them not caring eho they belong to.
If you Seek Amy: We’re going to get it out with some scissors.
Snacktime: Those are Narc's. (The voice of reason in last night's episode.)
If you Seek Amy: In that case they’re fair game. (When in crisis, no permission needed, everyone's shit is fair game. Fuck the Code of Honor)
Trippin' on some shit:Go fuck ‘em up then. (It is so evident how much she loves Narc).
If you seek Amy and Janet venture forth into the night once more. Mission Impossible is underway. They return some time later. If felt like forever for those of us who sat in the living room, afraid for their safety in the night. Considering that Homeless people have been found living in some of our basements, it would be no surprise if they encountered one under the porch...it's getting cold out after all.
If you seek Amy: What up bitch. (As she saunters in victoriously with the one card.)
All: How did you get it? (We obviously didn't do this in unison but rather in a frenzied shock fueled excitement)
If you seek Amy: We chop-sticked that bitch!
At which point Janet saunters, two hot rod's in hand. And no, you dirty little fucker's =), not some homeless Men's penis's (Even though it would've been nice, any penis would be nice at this point. We would just shower them up and take turns. Sharing is caring.)
If you seek Amy: I should call pub safety and tell them to suck on my dick. I ain’t paying 20 dollars for that shit.
Trippin' on some shit: No say that they can suck on your d…ICK! (The dramatic pause is for a better effect.)
Janet: I smell like a dude right now. It’s probably all that victory scent.
So the moral of this story is, Smith College should invest in chips that would be implanted into our skins so that no Smithie will have to face the devastation of losing their one card EVER again. It's just too much too handle. Many have died of heart failure because of this. And that when in crisis, once again, who you gonna call? Washburn@midnight. Last night proved that we truly can do anything we put our minds to including saving one cards from their doom, we are strong, intelligent women here to take over the world. Sister's are doing it for themselves. All for one and one for all. Even though most of us were just back seat driver's who couldn't be bothered enough to actually do anything besides offer pearls of wisdom (And they were pearls of wisdom mind you), the collective saved a damsel in distress, a damsel we call our friend, a damsel named, if you seek Amy.
So I say, good night, good luck and if you can help it don't lose your one card because your life will turn into a circus of fear, insanity and feelings of suicide.
Last night what had happened was; If you seek Amy lost her one card in the crack of the Washburn porch. Change Washburn porch to your ass and you have a dirty joke, you can thank me later =). Pandemonium ensued, pandemonium of the H1N1 virus kind. But when a damsel is in distress who you gonna call? Washburn@midnight. Last night's player's were If you seek Amy (the damsel in distress), the self-proclaimed legend (who's job it was to document this moment of crisis, sometimes being a hero requires some sacrifice), Susie Jones Geology Major (a.k.a I can navigate any crack on a hard surface), Janet (If you don't get this reference by now, I don't know how can live with yourself), Trippin' on some shit (who was particularly strung out last night - from stress not heroine) and Snacktime (She's like a human human garbage disposal, not that she eats garbage...Smith food is far too gourmet to be referred to as garbage).
Our first response was to Call public safety (as in we are scared of mannequin with no arms and legs public safety)..and this is how the conversation went:
Public Safety: There's nothing we can do, you're just going to have to buy a new one. (For $20!!)
Click (that's the sound the phone makes when it disconnects =) What were we to do?
If you seek Amy: Fuck that shit. I’m getting that shit myself.
So the suggestions from brilliant minds (Brilliant Einstein like minds), came pouring out.
Janet: Get a trowel or a coat hanger
Self-proclaimed Legend: What’s a trowel? (As a non-American many things need to be explained to me, as I have no understanding of the silly words you people use. =)
Janet: It’s like a small spade.
As nobody thought that they would find themselves in this predicament - silly girls- nobody thought to pack a trowel when they were leaving for college. But not to fear, Janet's next brilliant idea came forth with lightning speed.
Janet: Somebody get me a coat hanger.
Susie Jones Geology Major: So you guys are performing illegal abortions again. (A reference to last night's blog)
Oh the wit, and ingenuity of Smith students. If our health insurance won't cover it anymore, we'll do this shit ourselves.
Susie Jones Geology Major: Get some lighter fluid. (Because a Smith one card is that important to us we are willing to burn down the house to get it back. Sorry washburnites, most of us would've have gotten out though)
Trippin' on some shit: Somebody get me some boots and I’ll kick it in.
Self-Proclaimed Legend: You can’t kick the new porch in. (This was before my magic finger's started tapping away at the computer, trying to capture this moment...which meant that this was the last time I spoke for the night. I told you being a hero has it's sacrifices.)
Janet: Do you wanna get sued for like 700 dollars? (Beat) oh, oh who has a flashlight. (The speed at which she spouts new ideas is beyond comprehension. She is like that annoying kid in class who always knew the answers.)
So If you seek Amy and Janet, torch in hand, run with a purpose that is often not existent in most of us when it comes to doing our school work and head to the porch. They return a few minute's later, with us having been waiting in bated breath.
If you seek Amy: I located it. (A flash light often has that effect in the dark).
Trippin on some shit: So did you get it back.
If you seek Amy: No I just know where it is.
Susie Jones Geology Major: How does that help?
If you seek Amy: Don’t sass me right now. (Oh If you seek Amy, sass is part of our charm)
If you seek Amy's eyes dart to a pair of Scissors lying on the floor. She quickly retreives them not caring eho they belong to.
If you Seek Amy: We’re going to get it out with some scissors.
Snacktime: Those are Narc's. (The voice of reason in last night's episode.)
If you Seek Amy: In that case they’re fair game. (When in crisis, no permission needed, everyone's shit is fair game. Fuck the Code of Honor)
Trippin' on some shit:Go fuck ‘em up then. (It is so evident how much she loves Narc).
If you seek Amy and Janet venture forth into the night once more. Mission Impossible is underway. They return some time later. If felt like forever for those of us who sat in the living room, afraid for their safety in the night. Considering that Homeless people have been found living in some of our basements, it would be no surprise if they encountered one under the porch...it's getting cold out after all.
If you seek Amy: What up bitch. (As she saunters in victoriously with the one card.)
All: How did you get it? (We obviously didn't do this in unison but rather in a frenzied shock fueled excitement)
If you seek Amy: We chop-sticked that bitch!
At which point Janet saunters, two hot rod's in hand. And no, you dirty little fucker's =), not some homeless Men's penis's (Even though it would've been nice, any penis would be nice at this point. We would just shower them up and take turns. Sharing is caring.)
If you seek Amy: I should call pub safety and tell them to suck on my dick. I ain’t paying 20 dollars for that shit.
Trippin' on some shit: No say that they can suck on your d…ICK! (The dramatic pause is for a better effect.)
Janet: I smell like a dude right now. It’s probably all that victory scent.
So the moral of this story is, Smith College should invest in chips that would be implanted into our skins so that no Smithie will have to face the devastation of losing their one card EVER again. It's just too much too handle. Many have died of heart failure because of this. And that when in crisis, once again, who you gonna call? Washburn@midnight. Last night proved that we truly can do anything we put our minds to including saving one cards from their doom, we are strong, intelligent women here to take over the world. Sister's are doing it for themselves. All for one and one for all. Even though most of us were just back seat driver's who couldn't be bothered enough to actually do anything besides offer pearls of wisdom (And they were pearls of wisdom mind you), the collective saved a damsel in distress, a damsel we call our friend, a damsel named, if you seek Amy.
So I say, good night, good luck and if you can help it don't lose your one card because your life will turn into a circus of fear, insanity and feelings of suicide.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Get it Pregnant!
Before I divulge into last night's titillating and completely inappropriate conversation (so laugh in the privacy of your own room, preferably under your bed quietly where no-one can chastise you for being an insensitive douche, especially men because believe it or not double standards do exist so feel the burn, 'cause the tables have turned (",)) about babies the above tile needs a little explanation.
A wise man once said "Just so you know girl, I love you and I wanna get that shit pregnant. I got feelings and shit." His belief was that once you get "it" pregnant, as a man you've got that shit locked down. Now this is all kinds of inappropriate yet when listening to this drug tank podcast (this and youtube video's, mainly about cats and sassy gay friends, dominate our study breaks), I couldn't help but fall out of my chair with tears streaming down and snorting like a pig (a certain "babe" declined to have his name attached to this post as a significant cultural reference) in heat. Pretty much anyone with a perverse sense of humor (my kind of people), would and did find this "pee in my pants" funny. We can laugh because we make the assumption that no man is actually dumb enough to say this and actually mean it, either as a pick up line or even if he is in a committed relationship. If he did, he would walk away without his balls, for many obvious reasons, the main one being that referring to my uterus as "that shit" is a punishable offense. Punishable by castration. Am I being hypocritical? Maybe, if you want to be harsh. Double-Standards much? Possibly. Do I care? Not really.
So moving swiftly away from this verbal diarrhea of a pre-lude, last night's conversation was all about those cute little humans we like to call, babies. Those cute, cuddly little beings, that you want to squeeze so tight (and suffocate) sometimes. Last night's player's were Susie Jones Geology major (If you don't address her by her full title, she won't respond. It's tantamount to not addressing the queen as your "highness"), Trippin' on some shit (high times at Smith College), your gracious host the self-proclaimed legend (I decided to proclaim myself a legend since I was too impatient to wait for someone else to do it) and Janet (of the horny variety).It started out innocently enough, babies are obviously a hot-topic in all this all women's institution because the only thing that matter's to us women (a.k.a the home executive's) is hitching our wagon to a hot piece of ass (a.k.a the provider's) and raising little bambino's of our own.
So it turns out that Janet doesn't really like children, they are tantamount to panda's and dolphins to her (and if you have heard her rants about panda's and dolphins you would know there is no love lost between them). Shock and horror reverberated through out our entire collective beings. How dare she have a mind of her own? How dare SHE??? So this is how the rest of the converstaion went...
Trippin on some shit: I'm not getting pregnant anytime soon since I'm not getting laid. (Notice how all our conversations have to digress to sex somehow. Sexual frustration is a bitch!)
Self-proclaimed Legend: Don't you dare become pregnant! (Even though I am a huge advocate for women playing their gender assigned roles in life, I do not endorse teenage pregnancy on the other hand I teenage drinking is completely acceptable in my opinion as long as you use birth-control.)
Trippin on some shit: Don't worry, if I get pregnant now I am going belly first down the stairs until it aborts. And just to be sure I'll smoke tons of cigarette's and do a shit load of drugs until it flushes out my system.
Susie Jones Geology Major: No then you'll just have a crack baby.
Trippin on some shit: Well no-one looks behind the hubbard dumpster's. (Note: This line should really be credited to snacktime, formerly the russian, who was not present to re-iterate this point once more).
Yes this is highly inappropriate, insensitive and bordering on offensive (depending on which side your humor crumbles). Yet, fucking hilarious. Not hilarious because any of us think that aborting babies is like a going on an adventure ride, nor that we think purposely giving birth to substance-addicted babies is just an occupational hazzard and especially not because we think dumping babies in dumpster's is like playing basketball. It is hilarious for the same reason that, "Just so you know girl I love you and I wanna get that shit pregnant. I got feelings and shit." is hilarious because we are never really going to do it. Well I can only speak for me and my friends. It certainly isn't humorous when it actually happens. But the point of this blog is not to push forward our social and morally-conscious agenda's (because that happens far too much in our classrooms) even though we do have them but this post is purely for fun. So if you're offended, I apologize but get a sense of humor. If you laughed secretly under your bed, you did the smart, self-preserving thing. And if you LOL'd and sent this to as many friends as possible, I personally thank you for getting me more readers. You're closer to reaching legendary status. =)
So until next time good night, good luck and remember that birth control is your friend not your enemy.
A wise man once said "Just so you know girl, I love you and I wanna get that shit pregnant. I got feelings and shit." His belief was that once you get "it" pregnant, as a man you've got that shit locked down. Now this is all kinds of inappropriate yet when listening to this drug tank podcast (this and youtube video's, mainly about cats and sassy gay friends, dominate our study breaks), I couldn't help but fall out of my chair with tears streaming down and snorting like a pig (a certain "babe" declined to have his name attached to this post as a significant cultural reference) in heat. Pretty much anyone with a perverse sense of humor (my kind of people), would and did find this "pee in my pants" funny. We can laugh because we make the assumption that no man is actually dumb enough to say this and actually mean it, either as a pick up line or even if he is in a committed relationship. If he did, he would walk away without his balls, for many obvious reasons, the main one being that referring to my uterus as "that shit" is a punishable offense. Punishable by castration. Am I being hypocritical? Maybe, if you want to be harsh. Double-Standards much? Possibly. Do I care? Not really.
So moving swiftly away from this verbal diarrhea of a pre-lude, last night's conversation was all about those cute little humans we like to call, babies. Those cute, cuddly little beings, that you want to squeeze so tight (and suffocate) sometimes. Last night's player's were Susie Jones Geology major (If you don't address her by her full title, she won't respond. It's tantamount to not addressing the queen as your "highness"), Trippin' on some shit (high times at Smith College), your gracious host the self-proclaimed legend (I decided to proclaim myself a legend since I was too impatient to wait for someone else to do it) and Janet (of the horny variety).It started out innocently enough, babies are obviously a hot-topic in all this all women's institution because the only thing that matter's to us women (a.k.a the home executive's) is hitching our wagon to a hot piece of ass (a.k.a the provider's) and raising little bambino's of our own.
So it turns out that Janet doesn't really like children, they are tantamount to panda's and dolphins to her (and if you have heard her rants about panda's and dolphins you would know there is no love lost between them). Shock and horror reverberated through out our entire collective beings. How dare she have a mind of her own? How dare SHE??? So this is how the rest of the converstaion went...
Self-proclaimed Legend: Don't you dare become pregnant! (Even though I am a huge advocate for women playing their gender assigned roles in life, I do not endorse teenage pregnancy on the other hand I teenage drinking is completely acceptable in my opinion as long as you use birth-control.)
Trippin on some shit: Don't worry, if I get pregnant now I am going belly first down the stairs until it aborts. And just to be sure I'll smoke tons of cigarette's and do a shit load of drugs until it flushes out my system.
Trippin on some shit: Well no-one looks behind the hubbard dumpster's. (Note: This line should really be credited to snacktime, formerly the russian, who was not present to re-iterate this point once more).
Yes this is highly inappropriate, insensitive and bordering on offensive (depending on which side your humor crumbles). Yet, fucking hilarious. Not hilarious because any of us think that aborting babies is like a going on an adventure ride, nor that we think purposely giving birth to substance-addicted babies is just an occupational hazzard and especially not because we think dumping babies in dumpster's is like playing basketball. It is hilarious for the same reason that, "Just so you know girl I love you and I wanna get that shit pregnant. I got feelings and shit." is hilarious because we are never really going to do it. Well I can only speak for me and my friends. It certainly isn't humorous when it actually happens. But the point of this blog is not to push forward our social and morally-conscious agenda's (because that happens far too much in our classrooms) even though we do have them but this post is purely for fun. So if you're offended, I apologize but get a sense of humor. If you laughed secretly under your bed, you did the smart, self-preserving thing. And if you LOL'd and sent this to as many friends as possible, I personally thank you for getting me more readers. You're closer to reaching legendary status. =)
So until next time good night, good luck and remember that birth control is your friend not your enemy.
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