Team Non Sluts is not only worldwide, but minority friendly as well. Because of this, this bifecta figured it was about time that we went bilingual. Thats right, the chicks in room 162 will now be throwing around phrases in our second language: French. Oui Oui! J'aime a parler en francais avec ma colocataire! Bibliotheque! Elle est un ordinateur laid! Jambon! Pourquoi je porte des pantalons?! Je deteste pantalons!
But seriously though, it's finals week and we are so fucked. We hate to study(as you can tell by the quality of posts like this). So, we find it far to necessary to use phrases like this on a daily basis: Tant piss! Je suis dans la merde!
Figure that one out for yourself. Bifecta is now bilingual and therefore are no longer translating for the randos in Russia or Germany. Au revoir!
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Packing Drinking Game
So here's the deal. We hate to pack. And recently our lives have been consumed by packing and going and coming and forgetting things and making lists and overall a severe discontent with the fact that we are required by our schools and our families to move our shit around so much. We are girls and thus require a lot of stuff in our lives/on our persons so going home for the weekend much less for a whole month requires a caravan and a half in order to sufficiently take everything with us. And we hate getting that amount of shit together so we have come with an idea to help us get through the process.
Packing Drinking Game. You make a list of all the things you need to pack and take a shot after you have packed ten to fifteen items on your list (depending on how hammered you intend on becoming). It's brilliant and gives us incentive to want to pack.
"So i was thinking in the bathroom. Cuz that's what I do. All day. Everyday.".... You are witnessing evolution ladies and gents.
Packing Drinking Game. You make a list of all the things you need to pack and take a shot after you have packed ten to fifteen items on your list (depending on how hammered you intend on becoming). It's brilliant and gives us incentive to want to pack.
"So i was thinking in the bathroom. Cuz that's what I do. All day. Everyday.".... You are witnessing evolution ladies and gents.
Randos of the Day
1. We found out that our names are sexy (Emily is #4 and Elizabeth is #10 on top ten sexiest names ever). Unsurprising.
2. Running and sliding in socks on the floor of the student center is just as fun as it sounds.
3. Asians carry chap stick not chopsticks in their purses.... well actually....
4. Liz has a beef with moles
5. We need to learn how to make paper cranes
2. Running and sliding in socks on the floor of the student center is just as fun as it sounds.
3. Asians carry chap stick not chopsticks in their purses.... well actually....
4. Liz has a beef with moles
5. We need to learn how to make paper cranes
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Like Balls That's Happening!
So yesterday started out like any other day. Wake up late. Go to breakfast. Swipes on swipes on swipes. Take care of personal hygiene type things (Yeah right). Play basketball with HPC (You're kidding right?). Study for finals (No seriously, you're killing me here). Watch Friends (the Baby Got Back episode of course). And boom. Successful day. But what awaited us last night was awesome of epic proportions that not even we foresaw. And that's a LOT of awesome.
So Liz gets back from her phamily dinner and we get edgy (which is basically like getting ready but for totally awesome/edgy people like us who wear black nail polish and kick ass). Might we add that Liz is so hilariously underage that she had to get a fake ID to prove that she was 18, because in reality she's just a tot who needs to borrow identification from a very helpful Big Sister (Thanks Katie!) And so the night begins. We had heard of what was supposed to be a totally raging awesome dance disco party at this place in downtown Columbia, so we head out for the night with our glittery eyelids and our boots that were made for walking.
Now lets be real here for a second, this totally raging awesome dance disco party turns out to be located at what outwardly looks like a sketchy-as-fuck hipster metropolis. But since we're young and we're black and our hats are real low (catch that reference!?), we pay the man at the door and get our hands marked with 2 obnoxious "3"s that looked a lot like "E"s. So basically the bouncer is psychic/we're tight with the management. Okay so not really, but we're going to be DJ's there some day anyway, so what's the difference?
Next, we find a cozy little booth and commence texting out friends seeing if there were other parties happening. Considering this semi-empty room wasn't looking promising, we sat in our usual awkward as balls state waiting on the world to change. Then, the unbelievable happened. Less than 5 minutes after we sat down, two creepy as fuck older guys come up and ask if they can buy us a drink. Now we like our boys a little bit older, but consider the following descriptions: One was balding so he was wearing a hat, AND had a serious beer belly going on. The other looked like a 12 year old who was trying to impress Ke$ha: short, skinny and unshaven. AND he was wearing a fucking flat bill. If you think that two unbelievably gorgeous chicks like us are going to accept drinks from sick fucks like you, you have another thing coming.
Meanwhile, back in hipster mania, we followed up on our Friday night tradition of meeting drunk chicks who want to party with us. Let's set the record straight here: If people come up to Team NonSluts and ask us if we want to start a dance party, we are going to take them up on that offer. It's totally raging awesome dance disco parties that we live for after all. So these chicks had obviously pregamed and were approximately three shots past tipsy when we ventured out together onto the sad empty dance floor. We started the night off right and showed off our classy badass moves. Needless to say, we had followers last night. Unsurprisingly, people followed us out onto the floor and imitated our sweet moves. We even came up with our own routine which we plan on whipping out in the future when the occasion arises. It includes but is not limited to some pancake flips, vogue-ing, and hardcore attitude. Also the regular DJ at Dirty Disco is Asian and this made our night. God, we're diverse.
So the evening progressed and more hipsters joined us on the dance floor (no need for evacuation). And we came to find that Dirty Disco for all its advertised glory was a hotspot for lesbian interaction. Now don't get me wrong, we are all for lesbians. We do live in the bra burning dorm after all. But for the Friday before finals, it was a bit much for our naive and sheltered minds. So much butchness happening. So much awkward dancing. So many skinny jeans, so many bottles of PBR. We were in over our heads to say the least. As the dance party became more and more crowded, we came to a very important realization: Dirty Disco is an event in which one much be completely out of their minds schwasted to enjoy. And we were not. That was our first problem. Our second problem was the fact that we are not hipsters in the slightest. We don't have time for that shit and basically we don't understand their ways. So as we were dancing our asses off in a room full of them, we were a bit out of place and the hipster vibe radiating off every person there became too much for us to handle. Our bodies went into Hipster-Overload and we had to get out.
And get out we did. Very conveniently enough, El Rancho (a mexican munchies restaurant known for its clientele of stoners and drunks) was located right next door. Go us. So we hit that shit up and we came to find out exactly why it is so perfect for when you are slightly (or not so slightly) inebriated. Basically, the proportions are HUGE. As in the burritos are the size of a human head and the nachos are served on a platter. So Liz admitted defeat of her monster-sized burrito and I attempted to tackle nachos that could feed a small country and we called it a day. You amaze us, El Rancho.
We froze our asses off on the walk home, but holy hell was it worth it. Hipster mania and Mexican food galore rocked our world and we even made it home by 12:30. SOBER! We had shit to do today! We are so awesome. Sorry we're not sorry that God unevenly distributed the awesome and it looks like we got more than you. Good day.
So Liz gets back from her phamily dinner and we get edgy (which is basically like getting ready but for totally awesome/edgy people like us who wear black nail polish and kick ass). Might we add that Liz is so hilariously underage that she had to get a fake ID to prove that she was 18, because in reality she's just a tot who needs to borrow identification from a very helpful Big Sister (Thanks Katie!) And so the night begins. We had heard of what was supposed to be a totally raging awesome dance disco party at this place in downtown Columbia, so we head out for the night with our glittery eyelids and our boots that were made for walking.
Now lets be real here for a second, this totally raging awesome dance disco party turns out to be located at what outwardly looks like a sketchy-as-fuck hipster metropolis. But since we're young and we're black and our hats are real low (catch that reference!?), we pay the man at the door and get our hands marked with 2 obnoxious "3"s that looked a lot like "E"s. So basically the bouncer is psychic/we're tight with the management. Okay so not really, but we're going to be DJ's there some day anyway, so what's the difference?
Next, we find a cozy little booth and commence texting out friends seeing if there were other parties happening. Considering this semi-empty room wasn't looking promising, we sat in our usual awkward as balls state waiting on the world to change. Then, the unbelievable happened. Less than 5 minutes after we sat down, two creepy as fuck older guys come up and ask if they can buy us a drink. Now we like our boys a little bit older, but consider the following descriptions: One was balding so he was wearing a hat, AND had a serious beer belly going on. The other looked like a 12 year old who was trying to impress Ke$ha: short, skinny and unshaven. AND he was wearing a fucking flat bill. If you think that two unbelievably gorgeous chicks like us are going to accept drinks from sick fucks like you, you have another thing coming.
Meanwhile, back in hipster mania, we followed up on our Friday night tradition of meeting drunk chicks who want to party with us. Let's set the record straight here: If people come up to Team NonSluts and ask us if we want to start a dance party, we are going to take them up on that offer. It's totally raging awesome dance disco parties that we live for after all. So these chicks had obviously pregamed and were approximately three shots past tipsy when we ventured out together onto the sad empty dance floor. We started the night off right and showed off our classy badass moves. Needless to say, we had followers last night. Unsurprisingly, people followed us out onto the floor and imitated our sweet moves. We even came up with our own routine which we plan on whipping out in the future when the occasion arises. It includes but is not limited to some pancake flips, vogue-ing, and hardcore attitude. Also the regular DJ at Dirty Disco is Asian and this made our night. God, we're diverse.
So the evening progressed and more hipsters joined us on the dance floor (no need for evacuation). And we came to find that Dirty Disco for all its advertised glory was a hotspot for lesbian interaction. Now don't get me wrong, we are all for lesbians. We do live in the bra burning dorm after all. But for the Friday before finals, it was a bit much for our naive and sheltered minds. So much butchness happening. So much awkward dancing. So many skinny jeans, so many bottles of PBR. We were in over our heads to say the least. As the dance party became more and more crowded, we came to a very important realization: Dirty Disco is an event in which one much be completely out of their minds schwasted to enjoy. And we were not. That was our first problem. Our second problem was the fact that we are not hipsters in the slightest. We don't have time for that shit and basically we don't understand their ways. So as we were dancing our asses off in a room full of them, we were a bit out of place and the hipster vibe radiating off every person there became too much for us to handle. Our bodies went into Hipster-Overload and we had to get out.
And get out we did. Very conveniently enough, El Rancho (a mexican munchies restaurant known for its clientele of stoners and drunks) was located right next door. Go us. So we hit that shit up and we came to find out exactly why it is so perfect for when you are slightly (or not so slightly) inebriated. Basically, the proportions are HUGE. As in the burritos are the size of a human head and the nachos are served on a platter. So Liz admitted defeat of her monster-sized burrito and I attempted to tackle nachos that could feed a small country and we called it a day. You amaze us, El Rancho.
We froze our asses off on the walk home, but holy hell was it worth it. Hipster mania and Mexican food galore rocked our world and we even made it home by 12:30. SOBER! We had shit to do today! We are so awesome. Sorry we're not sorry that God unevenly distributed the awesome and it looks like we got more than you. Good day.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Ladies, Ladies! We all want to see some dick! - An Ode to Farmhouse
**This post can be sung to the melody of T-Swift's "You Belong to Me"** ...... yeah that's right this is a Taylor Swift themed dick post. Enjoy.
We were in our room. It was a typical Tuesday night.
We we're watching VH1 and taking bout how we're so white.
And we'll never know how Patti is so rad
But sluts wear short skirts, you're only wearing Santa hats
You're running down Richmond, and we're on the sidewalks
Dreaming bout the day when the first snow falls
And you run down the street and we see your balls
You should see that now your balls are turning really blue
There's a crowd even though there's only twelve of you
Why can't you see, you're being hazed by your fraternity?
Running down the streets and you're not wearing jeans
You leave your house and all of Jones starts to scream
Laughing on the sidewalk, thinking to myself,
That sucks cuz it's freezing.
And you've got a dick that would probably be alright,
If it wasn't freezing at eleven o'clock at night.
You think you're fine, but we know you better than that.
Hey whatcha doing with your thing out like that?
Cuz you're so naked but we don't really care,
You're being a tool and we'll laugh and stare.
Dreaming bout the day when the first snow falls
And you run down the street and we see your balls.
You should see that now your balls are turning really blue
There's a crowd even though there's only twelve of you
Why can't you see, you have a shriveled pee-pee?
We were in our room. It was a typical Tuesday night.
We we're watching VH1 and taking bout how we're so white.
And we'll never know how Patti is so rad
But sluts wear short skirts, you're only wearing Santa hats
You're running down Richmond, and we're on the sidewalks
Dreaming bout the day when the first snow falls
And you run down the street and we see your balls
You should see that now your balls are turning really blue
There's a crowd even though there's only twelve of you
Why can't you see, you're being hazed by your fraternity?
Running down the streets and you're not wearing jeans
You leave your house and all of Jones starts to scream
Laughing on the sidewalk, thinking to myself,
That sucks cuz it's freezing.
And you've got a dick that would probably be alright,
If it wasn't freezing at eleven o'clock at night.
You think you're fine, but we know you better than that.
Hey whatcha doing with your thing out like that?
Cuz you're so naked but we don't really care,
You're being a tool and we'll laugh and stare.
Dreaming bout the day when the first snow falls
And you run down the street and we see your balls.
You should see that now your balls are turning really blue
There's a crowd even though there's only twelve of you
Why can't you see, you have a shriveled pee-pee?
Monday, December 5, 2011
A request list for Gorilla Man
Gorilla Man has made a previous appearance here on the Greatest Blog of Our Time (That would be us. Duh.) and we would like to make a personal shout out to him. Gorilla man, you light up our lives and our daily walks to class in Middlebush Hall. While we appreciate your mad accordion skills, we would like to put in a few requests that stray a bit from your usual polka-like rhythms. We suggest you mix it up a bit to widen your audience and make what it becoming a bitter walk to class that much more entertaining. Our suggestions include but are not limited to:
1) The Imperial March. Star Wars bitch.
2) We Found Love. Because post-Chris Brown Rihanna kicks ass. Side note: Rihanna is now recognized by my spell check. Fuck yeah.
3) Lucky. It would be a serious white girl problem if my favorite accordion playing gorilla didn't play my song! Wah.
4) NOT Summer Lovin'. Thanks a lot John Travolta.
5) Anything from the Indiana Jones soundtrack. Mostly because men who wear satchels are SEXY.
6) Last Friday Night. What else would you want to hear being played on an accordion while walking out of class on a Friday afternoon? Nothing. That's what.
7) Goodbye Earl. Enough said. If you don't like this song you're un-American.
8) All I Want For Christmas is You. Or at least some Christmas music. Tis the season gorilla man!
9) Baby Got Back. Do it for Team Non-Sluts! Put the team on your back!
10) Tonight I'm Fucking You. The more Enrique that is played on this campus the happier I am.
11) Afternoon Delight. You know, just rubbing sticks and stones together making sparks ignite.
Mind you, this list is not limited to the above songs. We are open to just about anything other than "Friday". Thanks to a certain roommate I had that stuck in my head for the better part of Thanksgiving break. Fuck you you fucking non-frat douche face.
1) The Imperial March. Star Wars bitch.
2) We Found Love. Because post-Chris Brown Rihanna kicks ass. Side note: Rihanna is now recognized by my spell check. Fuck yeah.
3) Lucky. It would be a serious white girl problem if my favorite accordion playing gorilla didn't play my song! Wah.
4) NOT Summer Lovin'. Thanks a lot John Travolta.
5) Anything from the Indiana Jones soundtrack. Mostly because men who wear satchels are SEXY.
6) Last Friday Night. What else would you want to hear being played on an accordion while walking out of class on a Friday afternoon? Nothing. That's what.
7) Goodbye Earl. Enough said. If you don't like this song you're un-American.
8) All I Want For Christmas is You. Or at least some Christmas music. Tis the season gorilla man!
9) Baby Got Back. Do it for Team Non-Sluts! Put the team on your back!
10) Tonight I'm Fucking You. The more Enrique that is played on this campus the happier I am.
11) Afternoon Delight. You know, just rubbing sticks and stones together making sparks ignite.
Mind you, this list is not limited to the above songs. We are open to just about anything other than "Friday". Thanks to a certain roommate I had that stuck in my head for the better part of Thanksgiving break. Fuck you you fucking non-frat douche face.
SnacksOnSnacks
This day is bitchin, despite being a Whiny Monday. And this may possibly be Liz's last day on Earth because of the amount of grease and awesome she is putting into her body. She would like us to note that the man who made her grilled cheese sandwiches (yes that is plural) complemented her on her scarf. Yay for looking fly. Let us examine her lunch:
Meal of champions. Next we have a quote from one political science teacher, Jay-Z. "We have pushed every fucking button on that thing in the order they told us to do it and it's still not working." Make of it what you will.
Liz has holes in her crotch. What else is new, right? I mean, if you have two X chromosomes like my dear friend Liz, you better fucking have a hole in your crotch or else you are lying to society. We found this to be a particularly interesting discovery today however because she discovered two more holes in her crotch in the form of legging disrepair. White girl problem. And I feel like that happens way too often. Favorite pair of sweats, hole in the crotch. Favorite leggings, same deal. Why must you curse us, Legging Gods?!?! We're just trying to not wear pants! *insert cavewoman grunt* Mmmehhhh.
Here's a thought. Swipes for Xmas. Being broke as fuck college kids, we are having a pretty difficult time figuring out how to get presents for our loved ones this holiday season. New solution: use swipes instead. I'm pretty sure my sister will be getting a sheet of Rice Krispy Treats under the tree this year. Crisis averted. Dignity only semi-damaged.
And now to the most awesome thought of the day: Getting our shit together. We talk about this a lot, but today we sat down to three o'clock lunch and really buckled down. We decided that our résumés need to be amped up. To the extreme. Actually, I need to go. I gots shit to do.
Watch out. We have carrots. And we plan on throwing them at you.
Liz has holes in her crotch. What else is new, right? I mean, if you have two X chromosomes like my dear friend Liz, you better fucking have a hole in your crotch or else you are lying to society. We found this to be a particularly interesting discovery today however because she discovered two more holes in her crotch in the form of legging disrepair. White girl problem. And I feel like that happens way too often. Favorite pair of sweats, hole in the crotch. Favorite leggings, same deal. Why must you curse us, Legging Gods?!?! We're just trying to not wear pants! *insert cavewoman grunt* Mmmehhhh.
Here's a thought. Swipes for Xmas. Being broke as fuck college kids, we are having a pretty difficult time figuring out how to get presents for our loved ones this holiday season. New solution: use swipes instead. I'm pretty sure my sister will be getting a sheet of Rice Krispy Treats under the tree this year. Crisis averted. Dignity only semi-damaged.
And now to the most awesome thought of the day: Getting our shit together. We talk about this a lot, but today we sat down to three o'clock lunch and really buckled down. We decided that our résumés need to be amped up. To the extreme. Actually, I need to go. I gots shit to do.
Watch out. We have carrots. And we plan on throwing them at you.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
*Touchdown Pose* GAHHHH!!!
If you're here to read a blog about football just leave this page now because what you are getting right here right now is a rant from a girl who is fucking pissed at the stupid as fuck people that inhabit my immediate circle of acquaintances. REALLY?!??!?!?!?!? REALLY. GAAAHHHHH!!! Why is there so much shit that is not together? How come it is that there are so many people who are stupid and thrust their dumbass-ness upon me? Why must you fuck with my steady, down-to-earth demeanor?! Huh?!? Do you enjoy fucking my chill-as-fuck swag, homie?!
So get this. There is this guy, let's call him Frederic. And Frederic is a dumbass. You know why? Because Frederic doesn't know how to make a move. You think you're headed somewhere, I mean, you text and hangout and then.... nothing. REALLY??! I never thought I would be the girl with guy problems and here I am, getting pissed off about stupid boys who can't get their act together. Frederic, please get your shit together and call me when you do. In the meantime, don't unload your shit into my life and leave me frustrated and frankly as pissed as a pregnant woman without her morning tub of ice cream. No one wants to see that. Shits ugly. And so is my life right now when all of your shit is all up in my grill. Why the hell are you so stupid?! Don't make me be the one to fix that shit. Get your act together and grow a pair because until that time, don't count on us making progress in any form of togetherness that looked somewhat feasible. You may want it but you just can't have it until you get your shit together. I am so frustrated right now. Like Harry Potter when he found out he wasn't the most popular kid in school. AND THAT'S A LOT OF ANGST. Don't make me put my foot in your ass, you stupid, dumbass mother effer. The reasons for me liking you are becoming more and more muddled in my mind and frankly I don't know if I do anymore. You fucked up big time. You have a lot of work to do if you plan on salvaging this situation. Get crackin, shithead.
So get this. There is this guy, let's call him Frederic. And Frederic is a dumbass. You know why? Because Frederic doesn't know how to make a move. You think you're headed somewhere, I mean, you text and hangout and then.... nothing. REALLY??! I never thought I would be the girl with guy problems and here I am, getting pissed off about stupid boys who can't get their act together. Frederic, please get your shit together and call me when you do. In the meantime, don't unload your shit into my life and leave me frustrated and frankly as pissed as a pregnant woman without her morning tub of ice cream. No one wants to see that. Shits ugly. And so is my life right now when all of your shit is all up in my grill. Why the hell are you so stupid?! Don't make me be the one to fix that shit. Get your act together and grow a pair because until that time, don't count on us making progress in any form of togetherness that looked somewhat feasible. You may want it but you just can't have it until you get your shit together. I am so frustrated right now. Like Harry Potter when he found out he wasn't the most popular kid in school. AND THAT'S A LOT OF ANGST. Don't make me put my foot in your ass, you stupid, dumbass mother effer. The reasons for me liking you are becoming more and more muddled in my mind and frankly I don't know if I do anymore. You fucked up big time. You have a lot of work to do if you plan on salvaging this situation. Get crackin, shithead.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Things we should have have jumped on AKA what am I doing with my life!?!?!?
I like to think of myself as an independent woman who you you can throw your hands up at all day everyday. Who needs a man when you have a roommate you can act like a total fool with right? Wrong. It seems that my acting like an un-oppertunistic fool has me in a place that leaves me grunting like cavewomen over my life as we know it. Let's be real here for a second.
Here I am sitting in my dorm room on a gloomy Saturday night contemplating my life and how it is in shambles. Let's get one thing straight: I'm an idiot. I am continuously neglecting opportunities that have the chance to turn my hot mess of a life around. For example, last night whilst chaperoning Emily and two matching Asians in a Mizzou jersey and pink bow in my hair I was asked by a nice man at FarmHouse if i was a cheerleader. I was in fact a cheerleader in high school, but idiotically I was like "Nah dude, I was just too lazy to change after the game." WHAT THE FUCK. What am I doing with my life? I should have been like "OMG YEA! Go Tigers! Giggle giggle!" And then undeniably bangin' FarmHouse guy would have been all "Sweet, lets be friends, be more than friends, get married and have beautiful children that look like our adorable selves." And thats how things would have gone had my head not been in my ass.
So yeah. My life is a joke and I am constantly passing up opportunities to be a badass. Such as the multiple times at the gym when cute gym boys asked the both of us if we played sports in high school (i.e. rowing or basketball). Instead of bashfully smiling and confessing the only sport I played in high school was a year of golf and four years of yelling at idiotic freshman, I should have lied through my teeth an been all "OF COURSE I ran track in high school. I was a goddamn state medal winner who broke the sound barrier I ran so fucking fast!' Hell, I could have passed as a girls field hockey player. I could have at least said something than "Nah dude, Im just a poser who makes a complete and total ass of herself when ever she shows her face at this here gym." My life is in shambles.
And while on the topic of passing up prime opportunities in finding me a husband that will put up with my weird-ass self, I blame Emily for this one. Today, she encountered a dude who just happened to be speaking my personal favorite words as she passed by: "I'm single and rich". REALLY. REALLY. How could she not whip her head around and be all "Hold up dude, my roommate Liz is really into single rich guys, you should meet her!" and then send him my way. After hearing of this, I learned he was potentially from the East coast as well as being in a frat. These are the issues that I have in life. Single rich guys never seem to confess that to me and decide to hide during daylight hours. For fucks sake, show your face to the world. Some of us need a pick-me-up.
Friday, December 2, 2011
We Speak Well English.
So here in 162, a new phenomenon has erupted which we like to call NonSlutSpeak. Having become a bit too comfortable with each other, we have developed our own language which is comprised of part English, part cave woman grunts, and part made-up words. This language has served us well in communicating with minimal effort and maximum understanding. Care to learn our ways? Here are some basic lessons in the best language ever:
English:
If you don't know it by now, just... go away. Please and thank you.
Usage of Cave Woman Grunts:
1. warning to signal one's presence in a given place
2. expression of unease at human interaction
3. expression of lazy-as-fuck syndrome
4. signal that one doesn't give a fuck
5. show of anger
6. indication that one is dealing with a difficult internal struggle (such as white girl problems, bad hair days, failing at being vegetarians, and frustration at life in general)
List of made-up words/phrases that have proven surprisingly useful:
1. for fuck's sake
2. fuck that shit
3. HPC
4. we say the word fuck.... at lot... just whenever it fits in. you can stop judging now
5.... im too lazy right now to think of other things we say. ask me tomorrow.
and we need a catapult. easier to throw food at people.
and a bucket. so we can lower it out of our window and get shit from people. not drugs... jerseys.
English:
If you don't know it by now, just... go away. Please and thank you.
Usage of Cave Woman Grunts:
1. warning to signal one's presence in a given place
2. expression of unease at human interaction
3. expression of lazy-as-fuck syndrome
4. signal that one doesn't give a fuck
5. show of anger
6. indication that one is dealing with a difficult internal struggle (such as white girl problems, bad hair days, failing at being vegetarians, and frustration at life in general)
List of made-up words/phrases that have proven surprisingly useful:
1. for fuck's sake
2. fuck that shit
3. HPC
4. we say the word fuck.... at lot... just whenever it fits in. you can stop judging now
5.... im too lazy right now to think of other things we say. ask me tomorrow.
and we need a catapult. easier to throw food at people.
and a bucket. so we can lower it out of our window and get shit from people. not drugs... jerseys.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Team Non-Sluts: Now Minority Friendly
WE'RE BACK! Throw your hands up at me. Can I get a "ha-ha-HOLLA!"
Our awesomeness doesn't stop because of Thanksgiving break, so it's no surprise that on the first day back to classes we were in full swing awesomesauce. The morning was kind of a drag, not gonna lie. Whiny Mondays. Gross. But as the day progressed, it increased in awesome exponentially.
To start, we witnessed what some would call the Jay-Z Beef Showdown of 2011. We sat through 40 minutes of poli sci as on any typical Monday, but little did we know that a lecture hall full of tension was upon us. So this girl and guy (who will from this point on be referred to as Lil Wayne Kid and Stripped Shirt Girl) were talking in class and apparently being too loud for Jay-Z's liking. Let us note that Jay-Z is our poli sci professor. Here is the interaction that ensued:
Jay-Z: I hear a lot of mumbling. You two back there, am I boring you? Because I can just leave if I am.
*Silence*
JZ: You there, girl in the stripped shirt, am I boring you?
*Silence*
JZ: This will be on the test. You can go everyone.
*Silence*
JZ: Ok well either I can leave, or you two can leave.
Random kid from the back: LEAVE!
So that was that and the two idiots left. But here's what should have happened:
Jay-Z: I hear a lot of mumbling. You two back there, am I boring you? Because I can just leave if I am.
*Silence*
JZ: You there, girl in the stripped shirt, am I boring you?
*Silence*
Stripped Shirt Girl: Yeah, you are actually. You can leave.
JZ: ........ Excuse me! I'm Jay-Z. I already have a beef with the post office and you do not want to be next. I have Senators on my side! I know my rights, homie!
Lil Wayne Kid: Bitch please!
JZ:You wanna fight, cracker?!
*Insert rap-off*
So in addition to seeing two morons get their asses kicked out of class and witnessing Jay-Z open up a stanky can of whoop-ass, we have also diversified our group acquaintances. Firstly, Liz found out that the frat her sorority is paired with for Greek Week is Alpha Tau Omega. Conveniently enough we know a Swedish kid and a few black kids in the frat. Can you say major diversity points?! Also, we have begun to widen our ginger friend base (we're not entirely sure where we stand on the soul issue). And this is not even to mention the people we already know who are Asian and Jewish. When we discovered this insane amount of branching out, we felt a double high five was in order. And excessive pointing at Wolpers as if the building held the source for all that is good in life. Fuck yes for globalization.
Day One of last three weeks. Check. And with flying colors. Even though we can't manage to stay vegetarian for more than 12 hours.
Our awesomeness doesn't stop because of Thanksgiving break, so it's no surprise that on the first day back to classes we were in full swing awesomesauce. The morning was kind of a drag, not gonna lie. Whiny Mondays. Gross. But as the day progressed, it increased in awesome exponentially.
To start, we witnessed what some would call the Jay-Z Beef Showdown of 2011. We sat through 40 minutes of poli sci as on any typical Monday, but little did we know that a lecture hall full of tension was upon us. So this girl and guy (who will from this point on be referred to as Lil Wayne Kid and Stripped Shirt Girl) were talking in class and apparently being too loud for Jay-Z's liking. Let us note that Jay-Z is our poli sci professor. Here is the interaction that ensued:
Jay-Z: I hear a lot of mumbling. You two back there, am I boring you? Because I can just leave if I am.
*Silence*
JZ: You there, girl in the stripped shirt, am I boring you?
*Silence*
JZ: This will be on the test. You can go everyone.
*Silence*
JZ: Ok well either I can leave, or you two can leave.
Random kid from the back: LEAVE!
So that was that and the two idiots left. But here's what should have happened:
Jay-Z: I hear a lot of mumbling. You two back there, am I boring you? Because I can just leave if I am.
*Silence*
JZ: You there, girl in the stripped shirt, am I boring you?
*Silence*
Stripped Shirt Girl: Yeah, you are actually. You can leave.
JZ: ........ Excuse me! I'm Jay-Z. I already have a beef with the post office and you do not want to be next. I have Senators on my side! I know my rights, homie!
Lil Wayne Kid: Bitch please!
JZ:You wanna fight, cracker?!
*Insert rap-off*
So in addition to seeing two morons get their asses kicked out of class and witnessing Jay-Z open up a stanky can of whoop-ass, we have also diversified our group acquaintances. Firstly, Liz found out that the frat her sorority is paired with for Greek Week is Alpha Tau Omega. Conveniently enough we know a Swedish kid and a few black kids in the frat. Can you say major diversity points?! Also, we have begun to widen our ginger friend base (we're not entirely sure where we stand on the soul issue). And this is not even to mention the people we already know who are Asian and Jewish. When we discovered this insane amount of branching out, we felt a double high five was in order. And excessive pointing at Wolpers as if the building held the source for all that is good in life. Fuck yes for globalization.
Day One of last three weeks. Check. And with flying colors. Even though we can't manage to stay vegetarian for more than 12 hours.
Friday, November 18, 2011
And then it was Thanksgiving Break, and we had food to get rid of.
 |
| "Lets get applesauce wasted!" |
 |
| I fucking love milk. |
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Shit That Happens in Johnston Hall: Week 1
Team Non Sluts has decided to add a new segment to our blog, one that we would like to call Shit That Happens in Johnston Hall. Lets be real here. We live in the weirdest fucking building in the world. And while it may be in the most prime location on campus and our room is larger than a frat boy's ego after his morning slam, there are some downfalls to living in this dorm. One of those is the weird as fuck people we co-inhabitate with. In recent weeks, our neighbors have gotten so fucking weird that they have earned themselves a weekly post in our blog. Kudos to you weirdass people of Johnston Hall, you are now taking up more of my time than my Poli Sci notes.
For the inaugural post of Shit That Happens in Johnston Hall, I would like to start with explaining the character that will hereby be known as The More Butch Girl Next Door. She didn't really bother us until this past Monday night when I was leaving for chapter. I was locking our door you know, being safe and shit, when she decided to look me up and down and say "Wow! You look good today!" Then she proceeded to growl. I proceeded to give a scared "Thanks" and ran away as fast as I could. Yup. I got hit on by our more butch potentially lesbian neighbor. The More Butch Girl Next Door is now the scariest thing I have to encounter when I'm making my way to the shower or just filling up my water bottle. Who knows what she'll say next.
Shit only gets weirder the next night, when Emily was on her way to being the total badass gym rat that she is. The breezeway that we live in is a shady place and is now even shadier now that we've seen an actual, legit totally real drug deal going on. As naive white girls, our minds were blown. Yes, the breezeway of Johnston Hall is a perfect place for a drug deal to go down and yes, we probably should be aware of the other illegal activity that probably goes on down there, but REALLY, we never expected to see it with our own eyes.
It was that same night that we saw the two crazy-ass girls from our FIG class doing cartwheels in the hallway. No fucks given, just another Johnston Hall happening for the week.
Anyways, back to The More Butch Girl Next Door. On Wednesday night she was exiled to the hallway for at least 4 hours for reasons unexplainable to us, but we kind of felt bad for her. Okay not really. THe last major happening of this rather uneventful week in Johnston Hall history was watching a certain Tri-Delt living across the hall come home at 12:30 in the morning as drunk as that ho left alone at Phi Delt on homecoming. From my point of view (and very noticeable attempt to hear what the fuck was going on) this Tri Delt was unable to stand on her own and had no fucking clue how she had made her way back from whatever fratty pit of hell she was in to the sanctuary that is this residence hall. Luckily for her, she had a nice sober friend to scold her for getting hammered on a Wednesday night as well as help her prepare for bed. Unluckily for her, she had a psych exam at 8 the next morning that we are pretty much convinced that she couldn't afford to miss. (We know, we're terrible people for assuming this. But REALLY, from what we've observed in FIG class this girl is as dumb as a post.)
So here's the deal: Johnston Hall is a fucking weird yet entertaining place to live. While they might be semi annoying and time consuming to follow, the freak shows we call neighbors give us great stories to tell later and they add another weekly segment to this kickass blog. We're all for your bizarre behavioral patterns, as long as they are no direct threat to us and you keep it down past 11pm. Thats quiet hours bitch.
Also, to those living in Russia and currently creeping on this blog, expect a weeklong break from Team Non-Sluts. Its Thanksgiving. America!
For the inaugural post of Shit That Happens in Johnston Hall, I would like to start with explaining the character that will hereby be known as The More Butch Girl Next Door. She didn't really bother us until this past Monday night when I was leaving for chapter. I was locking our door you know, being safe and shit, when she decided to look me up and down and say "Wow! You look good today!" Then she proceeded to growl. I proceeded to give a scared "Thanks" and ran away as fast as I could. Yup. I got hit on by our more butch potentially lesbian neighbor. The More Butch Girl Next Door is now the scariest thing I have to encounter when I'm making my way to the shower or just filling up my water bottle. Who knows what she'll say next.
Shit only gets weirder the next night, when Emily was on her way to being the total badass gym rat that she is. The breezeway that we live in is a shady place and is now even shadier now that we've seen an actual, legit totally real drug deal going on. As naive white girls, our minds were blown. Yes, the breezeway of Johnston Hall is a perfect place for a drug deal to go down and yes, we probably should be aware of the other illegal activity that probably goes on down there, but REALLY, we never expected to see it with our own eyes.
It was that same night that we saw the two crazy-ass girls from our FIG class doing cartwheels in the hallway. No fucks given, just another Johnston Hall happening for the week.
Anyways, back to The More Butch Girl Next Door. On Wednesday night she was exiled to the hallway for at least 4 hours for reasons unexplainable to us, but we kind of felt bad for her. Okay not really. THe last major happening of this rather uneventful week in Johnston Hall history was watching a certain Tri-Delt living across the hall come home at 12:30 in the morning as drunk as that ho left alone at Phi Delt on homecoming. From my point of view (and very noticeable attempt to hear what the fuck was going on) this Tri Delt was unable to stand on her own and had no fucking clue how she had made her way back from whatever fratty pit of hell she was in to the sanctuary that is this residence hall. Luckily for her, she had a nice sober friend to scold her for getting hammered on a Wednesday night as well as help her prepare for bed. Unluckily for her, she had a psych exam at 8 the next morning that we are pretty much convinced that she couldn't afford to miss. (We know, we're terrible people for assuming this. But REALLY, from what we've observed in FIG class this girl is as dumb as a post.)
So here's the deal: Johnston Hall is a fucking weird yet entertaining place to live. While they might be semi annoying and time consuming to follow, the freak shows we call neighbors give us great stories to tell later and they add another weekly segment to this kickass blog. We're all for your bizarre behavioral patterns, as long as they are no direct threat to us and you keep it down past 11pm. Thats quiet hours bitch.
Also, to those living in Russia and currently creeping on this blog, expect a weeklong break from Team Non-Sluts. Its Thanksgiving. America!
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
The Hilary Duff "Why Not" Initiative of 2011
Here in Room 162 we find joy in getting shit done. One of the main items on our get shit done list is to get in shape. So we've regularly been hitting up the gym and have been setting up food boundaries for ourselves (like not eating past 9:30 at night and the like). All things that respectable health-conscious folk do. But tonight we thought to ourselves "let's kick this shit up a notch". So here's the deal.
You are now reading from two vegetarians. Well pescatarians if you're going to get picky, because we're still going to eat fish. So here goes.
The Hilary Duff "Why Not" Initiative of 2011
Section 1. The week of 11/14/11 is the trial week of vegetarianism. BOOM.
Section 2. Thanksgiving Break. Fuck this shit we're eating turkey.
Section 3. Become full-time vegetarians. Do that shit.
Corollary: Things We Can Eat
--not bacon :(
--peanuts, almonds, anything of the nut variety ;)
--yogurt. yay dairy!
--protein rich cereal (shouldn't be difficult. we <3 cereal)
--eggs. omelets.
--naners
--green beans/lima beans
--spinach
--whole grains
--lots o' peanut butter
You are now reading from two vegetarians. Well pescatarians if you're going to get picky, because we're still going to eat fish. So here goes.
The Hilary Duff "Why Not" Initiative of 2011
Section 1. The week of 11/14/11 is the trial week of vegetarianism. BOOM.
Section 2. Thanksgiving Break. Fuck this shit we're eating turkey.
Section 3. Become full-time vegetarians. Do that shit.
Corollary: Things We Can Eat
--not bacon :(
--peanuts, almonds, anything of the nut variety ;)
--yogurt. yay dairy!
--protein rich cereal (shouldn't be difficult. we <3 cereal)
--eggs. omelets.
--naners
--green beans/lima beans
--spinach
--whole grains
--lots o' peanut butter
Hey Napoleon, gimme some of your tots.
Tonight was a special night. It was Tots Night at Plaza. Fuck yes. Tots... the best way to prepare a potato. The creme de la creme of all things starchy. Crispy tater nuggets of pure fatty joy. #obesity Tonight was a special night for another reason: Glee. So after discovering tots on the menu at Plaza, we decided to eat like madwomen to make the 7pm airtime. After making asses of ourselves by feasting on a mountain of tots, we realized that we had three minutes until 7pm. So what were we supposed to do? You guessed it, run back to our dorm. Not only did we make asses of ourselves for the second time in approximately ten minutes, but we discovered that physical exercise after tots of that magnitude is not a good idea. We reached our dorm out of breath and panting like idiots but when we finally flipped on the tube, we found we had made it just in time to catch the "previously on". Go us. A word to the wise: tots + exercise = death. Don't do that shit.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Why the eff are we so photogenic?
So we have a problem. A serious white girl problem. We are way too freakin photogenic. Red hot, spicy, goddamn-look-at-that-girl, sex-on-a-stick, do-me-now-please photogenic. And admittedly, this quality is multifaceted. On one hand we sometimes cannot handle our awesomeness and our bodies shut down from overexposure to our own awesomeness. But on the other hand, it has gotten us into some pretty good times. Let us now recall last night.
Semi-formal. An event in which a girl in a sorority typically invites a boy to accompany her to a large room in which there are colored lights, loud music, and a water station. In said room, people are expected to mingle and move awkwardly to previously mentioned music in the hopes of enjoying oneself and in special situations seducing the opposite sex.
And this is where we come in. Emily and Liz version:
Semi-formal. An event in which a girl in a sorority (Liz) invites her roommate (Emily) to accompany her to a country club in which there is a lame ass dance party and cones for cups. Fuck mingling and fuck moving awkwardly, we dance our fucking asses off and request songs like nobody's business (Baby Got Back, 99 Problems, and Yeah! to name a few). By the end of the evening (or by the time we left), we basically owned that place. First off, we had followers. Being some of the first people there, we started off the dance party right and displayed our kickass moves in the front and center of the dance floor. Not only did we have followers within minutes, but they traveled with us like fucking groupies. We moved to a new location, and they followed. Secondly, the DJ had a nickname for us ("Dancing Girls"... duh). And on one special occasion (when he played 99 Problems) he came up and video taped us rapping the shit outta that song. Finally, we kicked up our street cred. The black kids in the room definitely took note of our intense rapping skills and when it was the two of us and them enjoying some straight-up-legit songs, you know its real.
What have we learned from all of this?
We now need to start our own DJ-ing business. Ideas for the name for the company are still in the works (some ideas are Moxie Turnpike or Cederic Diggory's Left Nipple) but the basis for this idea is solid.
1. We like to have a good time.
2. We have awesome taste in music.
3. We have sweet as fuck dance moves.
4. We know what music people want to listen to when they're wasted out of their mind.
5. We make the best playlists ever.
6. We're basically the coolest people you'll ever meet.
So keep your ears peeled for a hot new DJ company with two crazy chicks playing music in central MO. Shit's getting real.
Semi-formal was so much of a success. Boys are stupid, so thank god they weren't around to mess up our awesome evening (no offense but we hate to babysit you kids). The power of the bifecta prevails once again!
Semi-formal. An event in which a girl in a sorority typically invites a boy to accompany her to a large room in which there are colored lights, loud music, and a water station. In said room, people are expected to mingle and move awkwardly to previously mentioned music in the hopes of enjoying oneself and in special situations seducing the opposite sex.
And this is where we come in. Emily and Liz version:
Semi-formal. An event in which a girl in a sorority (Liz) invites her roommate (Emily) to accompany her to a country club in which there is a lame ass dance party and cones for cups. Fuck mingling and fuck moving awkwardly, we dance our fucking asses off and request songs like nobody's business (Baby Got Back, 99 Problems, and Yeah! to name a few). By the end of the evening (or by the time we left), we basically owned that place. First off, we had followers. Being some of the first people there, we started off the dance party right and displayed our kickass moves in the front and center of the dance floor. Not only did we have followers within minutes, but they traveled with us like fucking groupies. We moved to a new location, and they followed. Secondly, the DJ had a nickname for us ("Dancing Girls"... duh). And on one special occasion (when he played 99 Problems) he came up and video taped us rapping the shit outta that song. Finally, we kicked up our street cred. The black kids in the room definitely took note of our intense rapping skills and when it was the two of us and them enjoying some straight-up-legit songs, you know its real.
What have we learned from all of this?
We now need to start our own DJ-ing business. Ideas for the name for the company are still in the works (some ideas are Moxie Turnpike or Cederic Diggory's Left Nipple) but the basis for this idea is solid.
1. We like to have a good time.
2. We have awesome taste in music.
3. We have sweet as fuck dance moves.
4. We know what music people want to listen to when they're wasted out of their mind.
5. We make the best playlists ever.
6. We're basically the coolest people you'll ever meet.
So keep your ears peeled for a hot new DJ company with two crazy chicks playing music in central MO. Shit's getting real.
Semi-formal was so much of a success. Boys are stupid, so thank god they weren't around to mess up our awesome evening (no offense but we hate to babysit you kids). The power of the bifecta prevails once again!
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Cross-Dressing
Girl wearing her date's dress shoes home. He is left in his socks. Poor life choices.
Friday, November 11, 2011
It's time for this weeks segment of REALLY!?!?!?! with Liz and Emily.
It started out like any other Thursday night here in 162 Johnston Hall. We were standing in random positions around the room talking with Melissa about what I'm going to do when I turn 18, (Probably buying porn for the hell of it and registering to vote. Its the American way) and other randomosities of our more awesome than average lives. After discussing Marky Mark and his funky bunch, we decided that it was the appropriate time for Emily and Melissa to meet the infamous Harry Potter Chris, a kid who is friends with my Jewish friend Lee, who just happened to be coming our way. Naturally, we opened up our alley facing windows and yelled out in to the breezeway, and had a delightful conversation with Lee and HPC.
Afterward, we went back to our usual pointless girl talk when we heard a mysterious knock at our door. Naturally, I ran to hide my illegal lamp, while Emily opened to the door to a mousy looking RA telling us to keep it down. Yeah, that's right. She told us to keep it down.
Really. REALLY. You're going to tell US of all people to keep it down? Our neighbors, when they aren't fighting are being loud in other forms, they are blasting music at all hours of the day. In case you didn't notice courtesy hours are in effect 24 fucking hours a day, and while we may have been a tad disruptive a whole 20 minutes after quite hours commenced at 11, we are nowhere near the level of loud as our dear neighbors. We are white girls, we aren't loud and we aren't disruptive. And on the off chance that we are actually are loud and disruptive, it is never loud enough to call an RA over. So yeah to whomever felt it necessary to call us in, you're being a douche. Really?! We were talking about Marky Mark and $15 dresses and becoming prostitutes as a means of paying for law school for crying out loud! We weren't over here smoking weed or blasting screamo music! I mean really?! Could you not have just knocked on our door yourself and been like "hey i know it's only 11:30 but we have class kind of early in the morning and would you mind just quieting down a little?"... i mean seriously, have some decency! Really?! You're going to get an RA involved because of some mildly disruptive conversing? You hypocrites. Next time you even play any form of music so that I can hear it through the walls or have a fucking bitch fight in the hallway, expect a fucking visit from the RA. If you want to play this game, by all means. It's on.
And don't expect us to get rid of our lamp anytime soon. The lamp is kickass and it stays.
Afterward, we went back to our usual pointless girl talk when we heard a mysterious knock at our door. Naturally, I ran to hide my illegal lamp, while Emily opened to the door to a mousy looking RA telling us to keep it down. Yeah, that's right. She told us to keep it down.
Really. REALLY. You're going to tell US of all people to keep it down? Our neighbors, when they aren't fighting are being loud in other forms, they are blasting music at all hours of the day. In case you didn't notice courtesy hours are in effect 24 fucking hours a day, and while we may have been a tad disruptive a whole 20 minutes after quite hours commenced at 11, we are nowhere near the level of loud as our dear neighbors. We are white girls, we aren't loud and we aren't disruptive. And on the off chance that we are actually are loud and disruptive, it is never loud enough to call an RA over. So yeah to whomever felt it necessary to call us in, you're being a douche. Really?! We were talking about Marky Mark and $15 dresses and becoming prostitutes as a means of paying for law school for crying out loud! We weren't over here smoking weed or blasting screamo music! I mean really?! Could you not have just knocked on our door yourself and been like "hey i know it's only 11:30 but we have class kind of early in the morning and would you mind just quieting down a little?"... i mean seriously, have some decency! Really?! You're going to get an RA involved because of some mildly disruptive conversing? You hypocrites. Next time you even play any form of music so that I can hear it through the walls or have a fucking bitch fight in the hallway, expect a fucking visit from the RA. If you want to play this game, by all means. It's on.
And don't expect us to get rid of our lamp anytime soon. The lamp is kickass and it stays.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
We Commend You, Cereal Man
Hats off to this ambitious fellow who was either really hungry or really wanted to steal cereal. Either way, he enjoys cereal and for that, we salute him. We saw him carry a grand total of six bowls of cereal back to his place. Well done, sir. You are more than welcome to be our friend.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Weirdo of the Night: Prince Charming
It is a lovely evening here is central MO, so we have our windows open. Along with the other random conversations we hear going on outside of our centrally located windows is this exclamation:
"Kathy, Kathy, let down your hair!"
This is CoMo. We don't have towers. We don't have don't have girls with magic hair. She's not Rapunzel. How about you call her cell instead of shouting right outside my window? Much appreciated.
"Kathy, Kathy, let down your hair!"
This is CoMo. We don't have towers. We don't have don't have girls with magic hair. She's not Rapunzel. How about you call her cell instead of shouting right outside my window? Much appreciated.
Listen Up Boys: Best Date Idea Ever!
Let's begin by reviewing our unhealthy obsession with The Millionaire Matchmaker. Patti is God when it comes to fixing up douchey rich kids with trashy hoes. So basically, she's our idol. Not only does she tell it like it is, she is an advocate for people everywhere who don't give fucks, like us. She is awesomesauce. Patti's balls are ten times the size of any frat boy out there and what she says goes. She makes us want to be better at giving zero fucks.Which leads us to this conclusion: We are now taking on the role of matchmaker/fixer-uper/advice-giver for all of you people reading this blog. It's hard to find normal people out there, but once you do, you don't want to fuck it up by being THAT guy/girl. We all know who those people are. And you don't want that to be you. Judging.
Secondly, let us remind ourselves that it is rare to have an enjoyable first date. Shit gets awkward way too fast. SO - here is some advice to all the guys out there to help you not fuck it up. We're rooting for you here, but if you're adament about being THAT guy... there's not much we can do. But for all of you other guys out there wanting to score big, here's what we suggest.
Best Date Ever:
1. Attend a sporting event. Basketball, football, and baseball are some suggestions. Particularly a game that you don't especially care about. None of that post-season shit. And here's why: a date is supposed to be interactive. Duh. You need to talk to the girl, but if you're too wrapped up in the game, she'll think you're ignoring her. Also, sporting events are perfect because while you are still attending a fun event and can be engaged in what is happening on the court/field, you still have ample opportunity to talk to your girl. It's perfect. If there is a lull in conversation you can take part in cheering on your team. It helps if you sit in a section where there are lots of people cheering (the student section for example). But you are still on a date, so you are expected to be engaged in the girl.
2. After the game, go grab some food/ice cream. You will be hungry (especially if you're like me and won't waste your money on expensive-as-fuck stadium food). Go to a really low-key restaurant or even a sports bar and just chill and talk. It's fucking perfect.
I would love it if a guy suggested this for a date. It's fun and laid-back. It will take some of that first date pressure away and it will just be a whole lot better for both of you. But seriously, do this shit.
Secondly, let us remind ourselves that it is rare to have an enjoyable first date. Shit gets awkward way too fast. SO - here is some advice to all the guys out there to help you not fuck it up. We're rooting for you here, but if you're adament about being THAT guy... there's not much we can do. But for all of you other guys out there wanting to score big, here's what we suggest.
Best Date Ever:
1. Attend a sporting event. Basketball, football, and baseball are some suggestions. Particularly a game that you don't especially care about. None of that post-season shit. And here's why: a date is supposed to be interactive. Duh. You need to talk to the girl, but if you're too wrapped up in the game, she'll think you're ignoring her. Also, sporting events are perfect because while you are still attending a fun event and can be engaged in what is happening on the court/field, you still have ample opportunity to talk to your girl. It's perfect. If there is a lull in conversation you can take part in cheering on your team. It helps if you sit in a section where there are lots of people cheering (the student section for example). But you are still on a date, so you are expected to be engaged in the girl.
2. After the game, go grab some food/ice cream. You will be hungry (especially if you're like me and won't waste your money on expensive-as-fuck stadium food). Go to a really low-key restaurant or even a sports bar and just chill and talk. It's fucking perfect.
I would love it if a guy suggested this for a date. It's fun and laid-back. It will take some of that first date pressure away and it will just be a whole lot better for both of you. But seriously, do this shit.
Friday, November 4, 2011
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Adventures with Emily and Liz: Basketball
AWWW YEAHHH.... BASKETBALL.
so basketball has come into our lives suddenly and somewhat unexpectedly. at first we didn't know how to respond. we asked ourselves "what is this shit?" "what does it want to do with us?" "why did this happen to us?" "how can we make this madness stop?"... but then we thought - HOLY FUCK BASKETBALL!
you are now reading from two girls who are embracing the epicness that is college basketball and riding the wave. that's right. two highly unmotivated non-sports-loving girls turned fanatic. shit just got real. I welcome you to this alternate universe. so the first step in this endeavor was to get the tickets and sign up for the student cheering section. check and check. next was to actually attend said event. which brings us to last night...
we arrive at the courts and take a seat behind one of the nets in the student section.. pom-poms in tow of course. unfortunately for liz, she is seated next to some creepy-as-fuck kid who obviously loves basketball but is so weird that he has no friends and thus no one to attend his favorite event with. we came to find out why. he's a screamer. not like in bed you fucking perverts (although as much is yet to be proven so who knows. ill let you test out that theory). randomly throughout the game he would shout out random ass shit, obviously trying to impress with his vast knowledge of the game. we have now come to the segment we like to call "REALLY?! with Emily and Liz" (SNL for all of you Seth Meyers fans)...
REALLY?! you come to a game by YOURSELF and still have the nerve to shout random ass shit out into the world. you don't have friends. so why ostracize yourself more? you REALLY expect people to respond in a positive fashion to you screaming your atrocities into the mass of basketball fans? REALLY? everyone who has ever come across you is good by me. because they aren't your friends. sorry bud. you just don't do that shit.
we look forward to many more encounters with crazy basketball fans. also, we thoroughly enjoyed the random chants chanted throughout the game... some of which include:
1. "put it in the hole, just like last night"
2. "a tisket, a tasket, we want a frickin basket"
3. "raise your hands if you love basketball but don't know if you want to take your relationship further"
4. "tanning bed!"
5. "STEVEEEE"
Finally, we are in the process of coming up with saying for all of the players on the team:
1. We've got a fixin for Dixon
2. Troy Bolton (there is only one white guy on the team so this is what he gets) - Put the White Guy In!
3. Phil Pressey you can undress me
4. I got a need, I got a need for Green
the rest are still in the works.
Basically we fucking love basketball.
so basketball has come into our lives suddenly and somewhat unexpectedly. at first we didn't know how to respond. we asked ourselves "what is this shit?" "what does it want to do with us?" "why did this happen to us?" "how can we make this madness stop?"... but then we thought - HOLY FUCK BASKETBALL!
you are now reading from two girls who are embracing the epicness that is college basketball and riding the wave. that's right. two highly unmotivated non-sports-loving girls turned fanatic. shit just got real. I welcome you to this alternate universe. so the first step in this endeavor was to get the tickets and sign up for the student cheering section. check and check. next was to actually attend said event. which brings us to last night...
we arrive at the courts and take a seat behind one of the nets in the student section.. pom-poms in tow of course. unfortunately for liz, she is seated next to some creepy-as-fuck kid who obviously loves basketball but is so weird that he has no friends and thus no one to attend his favorite event with. we came to find out why. he's a screamer. not like in bed you fucking perverts (although as much is yet to be proven so who knows. ill let you test out that theory). randomly throughout the game he would shout out random ass shit, obviously trying to impress with his vast knowledge of the game. we have now come to the segment we like to call "REALLY?! with Emily and Liz" (SNL for all of you Seth Meyers fans)...
REALLY?! you come to a game by YOURSELF and still have the nerve to shout random ass shit out into the world. you don't have friends. so why ostracize yourself more? you REALLY expect people to respond in a positive fashion to you screaming your atrocities into the mass of basketball fans? REALLY? everyone who has ever come across you is good by me. because they aren't your friends. sorry bud. you just don't do that shit.
we look forward to many more encounters with crazy basketball fans. also, we thoroughly enjoyed the random chants chanted throughout the game... some of which include:
1. "put it in the hole, just like last night"
2. "a tisket, a tasket, we want a frickin basket"
3. "raise your hands if you love basketball but don't know if you want to take your relationship further"
4. "tanning bed!"
5. "STEVEEEE"
Finally, we are in the process of coming up with saying for all of the players on the team:
1. We've got a fixin for Dixon
2. Troy Bolton (there is only one white guy on the team so this is what he gets) - Put the White Guy In!
3. Phil Pressey you can undress me
4. I got a need, I got a need for Green
the rest are still in the works.
Basically we fucking love basketball.
We're worldwide bitch, act like ya'll don't know.
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| We're huge in Germany. Just like David Hasselhoff. |
Monday, October 31, 2011
Adventures with Emily and Liz: Breaking Gender Barriers
It's Hallo-Fucking-Ween, and after Halloweekend, our life is in shambles. Like really though. Sig Pi is singlehandedly ruining our GPA. In order to get our shit together today we decided to make a much needed trip to the Rec to make up for our past transgressions. We didn't plan on doing anything too serious, no beasting to be done here. Just a mile or so around the track and then our usual rowing workout. It is Whiny Monday after all.
So we walk, we talk and we gaze jealously at the Asians on the floor below us playing badminton. By the way, badminton(or what we like to call BADASSminton) is the most fucking awesome sport of all time, and someday we really wish to engage. If those Asians can have such a great time doing so, we're sure as hell that we can to. All we need is the fucking equipment. We weren't smart, we didn't bring all that was needed to play this kickass game to college with us, and now its the biggest regret of our lives. Other than not thinking through that hangovers=not studying for Poli Sci.
ANYWAY, as we pondered the Asians below us, we also saw a band of them playing basketball and soon came to realize that we could do the same. We could rent out a basketball and be total fucking badass ballers. It wouldn't be embarrassing at all! So, we march our asses downstairs get a basketball and make our way to the courts, only to realize that there might not be one open for us. Fuck that shit though. We found one with these two dudes, who will from here on out be referred to as BraceFace and Farmhouse. BraceFace and Farmhouse were diligently waiting for a regular men's sized basketball and a court when we showed up, and they proceeded to shoot around with us until 6:15. Yeah we made asses of ourselves, and yeah we admitted yet again that we were highly un-athletic in high school, bust most importantly, we broke some fucking gender barriers. its safe to say that there were no other girls who dared step foot on that court, and we were dumb enough to do so. We made some new friends AND Johnston Hall would be fucking proud of the fact that we reped for all the girls who are pansies and who refuse to intermingle with the wannabe ballers at the gym.
BraceFace and Farmhouse led us two conclusions: We need to fucking take use of our Student Activities Fees and we need to become TOTAL FUCKING BADASS BALLERS. We are going to get to the Rec, learn how to play basketball and continue probably making asses of ourselves.
It's been real Farmhouse and BraceFace. Thanks for being okay dudes and not total fucking frat douche faces (see earlier posts). Hope to see you around the court.
Love, Bifecta. Huzzaah!
So we walk, we talk and we gaze jealously at the Asians on the floor below us playing badminton. By the way, badminton(or what we like to call BADASSminton) is the most fucking awesome sport of all time, and someday we really wish to engage. If those Asians can have such a great time doing so, we're sure as hell that we can to. All we need is the fucking equipment. We weren't smart, we didn't bring all that was needed to play this kickass game to college with us, and now its the biggest regret of our lives. Other than not thinking through that hangovers=not studying for Poli Sci.
ANYWAY, as we pondered the Asians below us, we also saw a band of them playing basketball and soon came to realize that we could do the same. We could rent out a basketball and be total fucking badass ballers. It wouldn't be embarrassing at all! So, we march our asses downstairs get a basketball and make our way to the courts, only to realize that there might not be one open for us. Fuck that shit though. We found one with these two dudes, who will from here on out be referred to as BraceFace and Farmhouse. BraceFace and Farmhouse were diligently waiting for a regular men's sized basketball and a court when we showed up, and they proceeded to shoot around with us until 6:15. Yeah we made asses of ourselves, and yeah we admitted yet again that we were highly un-athletic in high school, bust most importantly, we broke some fucking gender barriers. its safe to say that there were no other girls who dared step foot on that court, and we were dumb enough to do so. We made some new friends AND Johnston Hall would be fucking proud of the fact that we reped for all the girls who are pansies and who refuse to intermingle with the wannabe ballers at the gym.
BraceFace and Farmhouse led us two conclusions: We need to fucking take use of our Student Activities Fees and we need to become TOTAL FUCKING BADASS BALLERS. We are going to get to the Rec, learn how to play basketball and continue probably making asses of ourselves.
It's been real Farmhouse and BraceFace. Thanks for being okay dudes and not total fucking frat douche faces (see earlier posts). Hope to see you around the court.
Love, Bifecta. Huzzaah!
Sunday, October 30, 2011
We like to call this "roommate bonding". That other picture is just like, me and some milk.
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This is the picture pretty much representing the greatest night of our lives. Expect a detailed account later on.  |
Saturday, October 29, 2011
There are so many days out of the year that you can do this.
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| "I sprint marathons. I'm in a frat."- Liz |
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| "I don't usually dress like a ho, but when I do, I go with a fro." -Emily |
Friday, October 28, 2011
Us Against The World, or just the Rec. Whatever way you look at it.
There is a time and place for songs like "Us Against The World" and "This Is What Dreams Are Made Of" That time and place isn't the on set of the greatest television show of our time, Lizzie McGuire, or your 4th grade birthday party. If you wanna jam out to a little S Club 7 or Hilary Duff, its best done when you're about to beast it up at the gym.
We are true mid-2000s girls at heart, which means that its not uncommon to hear songs sung but the one of the most underestimated girl bands of the past 15 years, Play, coming out of room 162 around 8 o'clock at night. We sing. We dance. We reminisce on our childhood and then we make our way to the Rec in order to make asses of ourselves on the cardio equipment.
Stop judging us. "Why Not" is a quality, family friendly song and is more than adequate to play during our daily pre-elliptical ritual. No fucks given about how juvenile or psychologically wrong that might be. We'll live in the past if we wanna live in the past, especially if its all in the name of good physical health. As I like to say, there are worse things we could be doing. Like meth for example.
We are true mid-2000s girls at heart, which means that its not uncommon to hear songs sung but the one of the most underestimated girl bands of the past 15 years, Play, coming out of room 162 around 8 o'clock at night. We sing. We dance. We reminisce on our childhood and then we make our way to the Rec in order to make asses of ourselves on the cardio equipment.
Stop judging us. "Why Not" is a quality, family friendly song and is more than adequate to play during our daily pre-elliptical ritual. No fucks given about how juvenile or psychologically wrong that might be. We'll live in the past if we wanna live in the past, especially if its all in the name of good physical health. As I like to say, there are worse things we could be doing. Like meth for example.
No thanks.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Shit We Don't Give Fucks About
So much. But here is a list to put a scattered mind at ease.
1. Wearing real bras
2. yelling out our windows
3. going to the gym for 30 minutes
4. badminton
5. not taking out the trash on a regular basis
6. showering/hygiene
7. social points
8. regular daily practices/ a routine
9. having to wait
10. wearing real pants to class
11. being creeped on from Germany
12. say fuck as every other word
13. being judged. story of our lives.
14. being part of the fat sorority
15. crosswalks
16. singing lizzie mcguire as 18 year olds
17. singing rap as white girls
18. the amount of cereal we consume
we could be here forever, but we must now attempt to be real people and join society. or maybe just take a nap.
1. Wearing real bras
2. yelling out our windows
3. going to the gym for 30 minutes
4. badminton
5. not taking out the trash on a regular basis
6. showering/hygiene
7. social points
8. regular daily practices/ a routine
9. having to wait
10. wearing real pants to class
11. being creeped on from Germany
12. say fuck as every other word
13. being judged. story of our lives.
14. being part of the fat sorority
15. crosswalks
16. singing lizzie mcguire as 18 year olds
17. singing rap as white girls
18. the amount of cereal we consume
we could be here forever, but we must now attempt to be real people and join society. or maybe just take a nap.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Adventures with Emily and Liz: BEST FUCKING DAY OF OUR LIVES!
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Tuesday, October 25, 2011
'Had to be a lesbian, couldn't be a bacon lover. "
There are few things that we hold scared in this life, and the most holy of all is bacon. God's gift to mankind. So naturally, when we saw this girl, we thought she was one of us. A full fledged bacon lover.
This girl is not a bacon lover. Nor does she like sausage. According to Urban Dictionary, this girls is a full on lesbian. The emoticon ({}), which naturally we thought was bacon, is actually the emoticon for vagina. Or hug, depending on which way you look at it. Anyway, the button on this chick's backpack reads "I [heart] Vagina" and we could not be more shocked.
If you're going to love bacon and you're going to put your love for it on your backpack, we are more than all for that. In fact, we would encourage it. The more bacon lovers, the better. But if you are going to confuse bacon lovers the world over with a sign that looks eerily like a vagina from a particular angle, we'd rather you didn't. In fact, we'd rather you leave any relation between our favorite food and your favorite... body part alone.
Whiny Mondays
As of yesterday, we have a new statute in this room... Whiny Mondays. Why? Because Mondays just suck. A lot. Every Monday we now have complete justification in whining our asses off and complaining endlessly about our sucky-ass lives and our never ending white girl problems. Basically, one-seventh of our lives is the terrible mess we call Monday and in order to make up for this fact, we have resorted to complaining and tantrum throwing.
List of shit to whine about:
1. not getting shit done
2. being fat
3. not wanting to go to the gym
4. having too much homework
5. wanting to go to the gym but having too much homework
6. having endless white girl problems
7. being tired
8. not being tired and being unable to fall asleep
9. being hungry ALL THE TIME
10. being sore from time spent at gym
11. being sad that we feel the need for social points
12. not wanting to move. ever. (we call this lazy as fuck syndrome)
13. being in pain all the time. thats what we get for attempting to stay in shape.
14. having no social lives
15. showering or the lack thereof
16. anything that is slightly inconvenient - having to jump out of bed for the remote, having to walk all the way to the bathroom, not being able to change the channel from your position in the room (we have severe cases of lazy as fuck syndrome obviously)
Mondays suck. But being able to complain about them makes them a bit less awful. Yay for ranting!
List of shit to whine about:
1. not getting shit done
2. being fat
3. not wanting to go to the gym
4. having too much homework
5. wanting to go to the gym but having too much homework
6. having endless white girl problems
7. being tired
8. not being tired and being unable to fall asleep
9. being hungry ALL THE TIME
10. being sore from time spent at gym
11. being sad that we feel the need for social points
12. not wanting to move. ever. (we call this lazy as fuck syndrome)
13. being in pain all the time. thats what we get for attempting to stay in shape.
14. having no social lives
15. showering or the lack thereof
16. anything that is slightly inconvenient - having to jump out of bed for the remote, having to walk all the way to the bathroom, not being able to change the channel from your position in the room (we have severe cases of lazy as fuck syndrome obviously)
Mondays suck. But being able to complain about them makes them a bit less awful. Yay for ranting!
Monday, October 24, 2011
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Having Real Days.
We must have real days. End of story. Despite the fact that some days you wake up and think - fuck this, I'm not going to try, screw societal norms and expectations, I'm going to look like Ke$ha in a gorilla suit - YOU MUST HAVE A REAL DAY. Always. Because if you don't... you may end up looking like this -->
Can you say sexy can I? Nope. You can't. Thus the need for rules in order for everyday to be a real day.
RULES FOR REAL DAYS:
For Liz: Every day must include a real bra and curling eyelashes.
For Emily: Every day must include a shower.
RULES FOR REAL DAYS:
For Liz: Every day must include a real bra and curling eyelashes.
For Emily: Every day must include a shower.
I'm Forming a Band, Mom!
Now don't get me wrong, we are independent women. Throw you're hands up at me. But we need a band. What is a band you ask? Right now we are a two woman wolf pack needing to add some serious Y chromosomes to the mix. In making this observation we decided to form a band; a group of kick-ass people to run with. Not really run. We hate to run. But run this town. Like Rihanna and Jay-Z. Anyway, in deciding this, we looked at all of the great sitcoms with solid bands.
List of the Greatest Sitcoms of All Time:
1. Friends - 3 girls, 3 boys
2. Scrubs - 2 girls, 3 boys
3. Lizzie McGuire - 2 girls, 1 boy
4. Boy Meets World - 2 boys, 2 girls
5. Gossip Girl - 2 girls, 3 guys
6. Will and Grace - 2 girls, 2 guys
7. Sienfeld - 1 girl, 3 guys
8. How I Met Your Mother - 2 girls, 3 boys
We examined the data and observed that in many cases the girl to guy ratio is uneven - meaning that we need more boys than girls in our band. And since the two girl spots have been taken by yours truly that means that we have openings. Applications now available.
Wanna join our band? Make sure you meet the following criteria.
-Must like bacon (But I mean really, who doesn't?)
-Must like cereal, preferably in cups. Bowls are for losers.
-If you come in a 3-pack, thats great. We're down with that.
-If you come with benefits, we are SO down with that.
-Knowledge of weightlifting/badminton would be great
-On campus Batmobile (and by that we mean car). Available for use at our requests.
-No weirdos. You know who you are.
-Willingness to dance to our Pandora stations i.e. the Pussycat Dolls and JoJo.
-Must have shit together. Dumhasses need not apply.
-Boy Scout/Eagle Scout Status would be great.
-Find probable solution to the great Milk crisis of 2011.
- One Y chromosome, please and thank you!
So basically, if you're living in the CONTINENTAL United States (you hear that randos in Argentina?), are housed preferably the Columbia, Missouri area, we would love your company. Comment if you're interested!
List of the Greatest Sitcoms of All Time:
1. Friends - 3 girls, 3 boys
2. Scrubs - 2 girls, 3 boys
3. Lizzie McGuire - 2 girls, 1 boy
4. Boy Meets World - 2 boys, 2 girls
5. Gossip Girl - 2 girls, 3 guys
6. Will and Grace - 2 girls, 2 guys
7. Sienfeld - 1 girl, 3 guys
8. How I Met Your Mother - 2 girls, 3 boys
We examined the data and observed that in many cases the girl to guy ratio is uneven - meaning that we need more boys than girls in our band. And since the two girl spots have been taken by yours truly that means that we have openings. Applications now available.
Wanna join our band? Make sure you meet the following criteria.
-Must like bacon (But I mean really, who doesn't?)
-Must like cereal, preferably in cups. Bowls are for losers.
-If you come in a 3-pack, thats great. We're down with that.
-If you come with benefits, we are SO down with that.
-Knowledge of weightlifting/badminton would be great
-On campus Batmobile (and by that we mean car). Available for use at our requests.
-No weirdos. You know who you are.
-Willingness to dance to our Pandora stations i.e. the Pussycat Dolls and JoJo.
-Must have shit together. Dumhasses need not apply.
-Boy Scout/Eagle Scout Status would be great.
-Find probable solution to the great Milk crisis of 2011.
- One Y chromosome, please and thank you!
So basically, if you're living in the CONTINENTAL United States (you hear that randos in Argentina?), are housed preferably the Columbia, Missouri area, we would love your company. Comment if you're interested!
Sunday, October 16, 2011
The Morning After: The Tragedy of Two Non-Wasted Non-Sluts
You know what just sucks? Going out on Homecoming night and not having a good time (read previous three blogs). But what sucks just a bit more (and who the hell knew that was possible, right?!) is waking up the next morning and still feeling absolutely disgusting despite the fact that you didn't have more than a fucking 1/3 of a can of beer the previous night.
Problem #1: You were exhausted the night before from walking all the fucking way around Greek town in four inch heels and thus didn't shower. Result: Waking up smelling and feeling like absolute shit.
Problem #2: This same exhaustion problem led you to forget to clean your face/wash off your make-up. Result: Waking up looking like a tranny who doesn't even try that hard. We're talking fucked up black eyeshadow that makes you look like a raccoon, oily skin that makes you shine brighter than the fucking sun (we're talking SPF 100 here people), crusty eyes from eye make-up shit, an lets not forget the fact that being outside all day yesterday left you with a gorgeous fucking sunglasses tan line. Can you say sexy? I don't think so.. because looking at this fucked-up mess would leave you speechless.
Problem #3: Walking all the way around effing Greek town in heels super fucked up your feet and back. Result: You are sore as fuck and can't move. Going out fucking paralyzed me. Seriously?!
Problem #4: You have the worst fucking headache in the world... and it's not even a hangover. Fuck me.
From now on there better be fucking alcohol. Because if I'm going to get cute and fuck myself up like this... I better be fucking out of my mind drunk.
Fuck Count: 15
Problem #1: You were exhausted the night before from walking all the fucking way around Greek town in four inch heels and thus didn't shower. Result: Waking up smelling and feeling like absolute shit.
Problem #2: This same exhaustion problem led you to forget to clean your face/wash off your make-up. Result: Waking up looking like a tranny who doesn't even try that hard. We're talking fucked up black eyeshadow that makes you look like a raccoon, oily skin that makes you shine brighter than the fucking sun (we're talking SPF 100 here people), crusty eyes from eye make-up shit, an lets not forget the fact that being outside all day yesterday left you with a gorgeous fucking sunglasses tan line. Can you say sexy? I don't think so.. because looking at this fucked-up mess would leave you speechless.
Problem #3: Walking all the way around effing Greek town in heels super fucked up your feet and back. Result: You are sore as fuck and can't move. Going out fucking paralyzed me. Seriously?!
Problem #4: You have the worst fucking headache in the world... and it's not even a hangover. Fuck me.
From now on there better be fucking alcohol. Because if I'm going to get cute and fuck myself up like this... I better be fucking out of my mind drunk.
Fuck Count: 15
Defying Gravity
Expectations Vs. Reality -- Homecoming Night
EXPECTATIONS
1. Best Night Ever
2. Alcohol
3. Not high schoolers
4. Dance Rave
5. Having a fucking awesome time in general
REALITY
1. Walking around the entire circumference of greek town and ending up at Phi Kap twice.
2. Backpacks full of beer
3. AEPi not having at party
4. Worst Night Ever
5. 1/3 of a can of beer
6. High schoolers everywhere
7. Calluses and shoes that smell like beer
8. Crowded hallways full of stupid people
9. FUCKING FRAT BOYS
1. Best Night Ever
2. Alcohol
3. Not high schoolers
4. Dance Rave
5. Having a fucking awesome time in general
REALITY
1. Walking around the entire circumference of greek town and ending up at Phi Kap twice.
2. Backpacks full of beer
3. AEPi not having at party
4. Worst Night Ever
5. 1/3 of a can of beer
6. High schoolers everywhere
7. Calluses and shoes that smell like beer
8. Crowded hallways full of stupid people
9. FUCKING FRAT BOYS
Fuck You, You Fucking Frat Douche Faces... Love, Team-TryingToBeSlutsForTheNight
It's HOMECOMING. The fucking 100th anniversary of homecoming, motherfuckers. And you can't manage to throw a halfway decent party without high schoolers?! Bull shit. Pure bull shit. If you want to want to get laid, don't throw a fucking room party. Room parties suck balls. Get with the program!! Throw a good party. Have food. Have spiked punch. Just dont be a douche. Actually, just dont be a douche in general no matter how good looking you are. And running out of alcohol... on HOMECOMING?!.. is fucking sacrilegious. You Jesus-hating, American-tradition-hating/ruining shit-faced highschool-girl-raping frat boys. You dont even know how much make-up we wasted and how much heel-wearing we suffered. We also had the immense pleasure of watching a poor girl being wasted out of her mind probably about to get raped. We hate you. Suck it. Hope you get crabs from the girl in the hallway. See you in two weeks. And you owe us a backpack full of beer.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
BACON.
Recently Tweeted: "Told the steak & shake waiter that I don't enjoy bacon much, so he asked me if I enjoyed life"
WHO IS THIS MAN. THIS IS SACRILEGE.
WHO IS THIS MAN. THIS IS SACRILEGE.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Today is a day to GET SHIT DONE.
After leaving our 8am General Psych class, we came to two joint decisions: We need to get breakfast, then we need to get shit done.
Unlike previous weeks, this has been a week of productivity. We have gone to the gym, grocery shopping, to the library and decided that eating past 9:30pm is against all of the rules of life (unless one of us converts to Judasim and needs to celebrate Yom Kippur. Oy!) We've stayed up late every night finishing assignments for our respective classes and we have refrained from the unholy entity that is Rollins Late Night. Who has time to watch reruns of the Kardashians when there are exams to study for? Aside from our abnormal amount of swearing and gossiping about our freaks of floor mates, we've been good girls. And we've been fucking productive.
I'm so proud of us.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Adventures with Emily and Liz: The Gym
Instead of going to sleep at 7:45 per the usual in this dorm, we decided to venture out into the world and go to... the GYM. It was a big step for us. We got off our lazy asses and PUMPED IRON. Not really... but anyway. So we get to the gym and elliptical for half an hour and then decide to switch it up and go upstairs to rowing machines (yeah, they make those! who knew?!). We get upstairs, sweating balls after getting kicked in the ass by the ellipticals, and sit down on the rowing machines for like two minutes when a guy comes up to us. He says, "Hey, did you guys row in high school?"
*** WHAT SHOULD HAVE HAPPENED***
"Hell ya! We were co-captains. National champs. But I mean... you could probably tell that just by looking at our RIPPED AS FUCK GUNS!"
***WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED***
"No" -- which basically means "we're lame and you will never speak to us again, cute rowing man"
.... he then walked away. note to self: go with the ripped as fuck version in the future.
*** WHAT SHOULD HAVE HAPPENED***
"Hell ya! We were co-captains. National champs. But I mean... you could probably tell that just by looking at our RIPPED AS FUCK GUNS!"
***WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED***
"No" -- which basically means "we're lame and you will never speak to us again, cute rowing man"
.... he then walked away. note to self: go with the ripped as fuck version in the future.
"Really?! That is SUCH a white girl problem!"
We are white. We are girls. And we have problems. Sometimes this combination becomes too much to handle and when life becomes stressful, we rant about it. White girl problems plague us daily and there is no known cure for this disease. We wish we could help our white-ness and our girl-ness, but until either of those things changes, here is a list of the trials of being us:
1. No Fucking Vitamin Water.
2. My alcohol tolerance is higher than I thought it would be.
3. I have to pee.
4. Do I HAVE to go class today?
5. So you're going to drunk text me? NICE.
6. Never taking an 8am class again
7. What do you mean there's NO MILKSHAKES?!!
8. Why am I so hungry?
9. I totally rowed in high school! Check out these guns!
10. It's so dry in here! My hair is so static-y!!
11. Having to walk all the way down to the printer. Seriously?
12. But I don't want to take a shower!
13. MY WHOLE LIFE.
1. No Fucking Vitamin Water.
2. My alcohol tolerance is higher than I thought it would be.
3. I have to pee.
4. Do I HAVE to go class today?
5. So you're going to drunk text me? NICE.
6. Never taking an 8am class again
7. What do you mean there's NO MILKSHAKES?!!
8. Why am I so hungry?
9. I totally rowed in high school! Check out these guns!
10. It's so dry in here! My hair is so static-y!!
11. Having to walk all the way down to the printer. Seriously?
12. But I don't want to take a shower!
13. MY WHOLE LIFE.
This is a designer pizza box.
Things we are OBSESSED with.
1. Bacon
2. Rollins Late Night
3. Boys named Armani
4. VH1's Top 100 Hits of the 2000's. FUCK YES.
5. French braids.
6. Roommate showers. (Totally unintentional and not lesbian at all.)
7. Floor mate gossip/making maps of our floor/ being amazed at how black eye girl and back brace girl are roommates.
8. Our lamp. Not going away anytime soon.
9. Staying up way past our bed time, but still not doing any homework.
10. Watching far to much Spongebob on Friday afternoons.
11. Jersday and Glee.
12. Angry workouts.
13. Roommate rant sessions. About most everyone.
14. Milk. Fuck you Mizzou Market.
15. Going to bed at 7: 45.
16. Cereal in cups.
17. Shaving our armpits.
18. JoJo
19. Figuring out who Blair's baby daddy is.
2. Rollins Late Night
3. Boys named Armani
4. VH1's Top 100 Hits of the 2000's. FUCK YES.
5. French braids.
6. Roommate showers. (Totally unintentional and not lesbian at all.)
7. Floor mate gossip/making maps of our floor/ being amazed at how black eye girl and back brace girl are roommates.
8. Our lamp. Not going away anytime soon.
9. Staying up way past our bed time, but still not doing any homework.
10. Watching far to much Spongebob on Friday afternoons.
11. Jersday and Glee.
12. Angry workouts.
13. Roommate rant sessions. About most everyone.
14. Milk. Fuck you Mizzou Market.
15. Going to bed at 7: 45.
16. Cereal in cups.
17. Shaving our armpits.
18. JoJo
19. Figuring out who Blair's baby daddy is.
Hi there. Hope you're not a ho.
So a couple weeks back some idiot stole our white board. Now we have a blog. Yeah. Shit just got real.
We decided here in room 162 that we are just cool enough to share our ideas with the world. As of now, our most awesome is the idea of throwing things out of our first floor window on to the loud people passing by. This is what we've come up with:
1. Candy (no matter the density)
2. Popcorn
3. Cheez-It crumbs
4. Scalding hot coffee
5. Any trash we're too lazy to take down to the dumpster
6. All of my leftover bananas
7. Carrots (of the baby variety)
8. The stairwell sock.
9. NOT BACON(too precious)
10. Any unwanted leftovers from Rollins
11. Tissues
12. Sooo much candy (but only on Halloween)
Also, people are loud in these parts. We live in a breezeway that echoes at all hours of the day. Here are the things that we want to yell at the loud people walking by.
1. Fuck off. (We're trying to sleep/study/celebrate Jersday)
2. Same to you.
3. Okay.
4. GTFO
5. This is God.
6. Hellloooo
7. I NOTICED YOU'RE BEING LOUD
8. Stop peeing. Please.
9. Is that really necessary sir?
10. Really, the trash. ITS 6 o'clock in the FUCKING MORNING.
11. F off U.S. Foodways.
12. Hey! I know that guy!
13. Still counts!
14. Hey everyone. Come see how good I look!
15. Really? You're wearing that to class. Come on.
16. Why don't you go back to your home on whore island!
17. You can do better.
18. Hookah and Weed!? Its 1 in the morning. I can smell that shit.
19. Tits McGee!
20. Don't make me come down there!
So yeah. Expect great things from Team Non-Sluts. Our lives are just one big white girl problem, and we'd really like to share them with the world. Also, if candy is ever thrown at you or you get laughed at because you are wearing a back brace, its probably us.
We'd also appreciate it if you texted us back once in a while.
We decided here in room 162 that we are just cool enough to share our ideas with the world. As of now, our most awesome is the idea of throwing things out of our first floor window on to the loud people passing by. This is what we've come up with:
1. Candy (no matter the density)
2. Popcorn
3. Cheez-It crumbs
4. Scalding hot coffee
5. Any trash we're too lazy to take down to the dumpster
6. All of my leftover bananas
7. Carrots (of the baby variety)
8. The stairwell sock.
9. NOT BACON(too precious)
10. Any unwanted leftovers from Rollins
11. Tissues
12. Sooo much candy (but only on Halloween)
Also, people are loud in these parts. We live in a breezeway that echoes at all hours of the day. Here are the things that we want to yell at the loud people walking by.
1. Fuck off. (We're trying to sleep/study/celebrate Jersday)
2. Same to you.
3. Okay.
4. GTFO
5. This is God.
6. Hellloooo
7. I NOTICED YOU'RE BEING LOUD
8. Stop peeing. Please.
9. Is that really necessary sir?
10. Really, the trash. ITS 6 o'clock in the FUCKING MORNING.
11. F off U.S. Foodways.
12. Hey! I know that guy!
13. Still counts!
14. Hey everyone. Come see how good I look!
15. Really? You're wearing that to class. Come on.
16. Why don't you go back to your home on whore island!
17. You can do better.
18. Hookah and Weed!? Its 1 in the morning. I can smell that shit.
19. Tits McGee!
20. Don't make me come down there!
So yeah. Expect great things from Team Non-Sluts. Our lives are just one big white girl problem, and we'd really like to share them with the world. Also, if candy is ever thrown at you or you get laughed at because you are wearing a back brace, its probably us.
We'd also appreciate it if you texted us back once in a while.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Songs that are stuck in our heads
"I Just Had Sex" - The Lonely Island
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lQlIhraqL7o&ob=av3e
"Baby Got Back" - Sir Mix Alot
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7nprhxc2Lxc
"Impiral March"- Star Wars --NOTE: not socially acceptable to hum to oneself walking around campus.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-bzWSJG93P8
"Pretty Girl Rock" - Keri Hilson
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HtXOVKNazYU&ob=av3e
"I Try"-Macy Grey (stop judging)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LYIW6MTigGQ
"What is Love" - Haddaway
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k_U6mWu1XQA
"Goodbye Earl" - Dixie Chicks
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gw7gNf_9njs
"99 Problems"- Jay Z
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WwoM5fLITfk
"Lucky" Britney Spears
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4vvBAONkYwI&ob=av2e
"Milkshake"-Kelis
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pGL2rytTraA&ob=av3e
"Lip Gloss" Lil' Mama
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S5ck6TJQ5Ow&ob=av2e
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lQlIhraqL7o&ob=av3e
"Baby Got Back" - Sir Mix Alot
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7nprhxc2Lxc
"Impiral March"- Star Wars --NOTE: not socially acceptable to hum to oneself walking around campus.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-bzWSJG93P8
"Pretty Girl Rock" - Keri Hilson
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HtXOVKNazYU&ob=av3e
"I Try"-Macy Grey (stop judging)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LYIW6MTigGQ
"What is Love" - Haddaway
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k_U6mWu1XQA
"Goodbye Earl" - Dixie Chicks
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gw7gNf_9njs
"99 Problems"- Jay Z
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WwoM5fLITfk
"Lucky" Britney Spears
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4vvBAONkYwI&ob=av2e
"Milkshake"-Kelis
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pGL2rytTraA&ob=av3e
"Lip Gloss" Lil' Mama
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S5ck6TJQ5Ow&ob=av2e
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