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.

And then it was Thanksgiving Break, and we had food to get rid of.

"Lets get applesauce wasted!"

I fucking love milk. 

.........

We don't understand how you go through life being a dumb ass. We just don't get it.

Me too.

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!

This is pretty much all that happens when we go out.

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

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.

No but seriously though. Why are we so fucking good looking?

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!

Cross-Dressing

Girl wearing her date's dress shoes home. He is left in his socks. Poor life choices.

Marky Mark and his funky bunch can send us good vibrations all day long

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.

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.

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.

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.

Everything that makes sense in the world/we're psychic.

BASKETBALL! BASKETBALL! BASKETBALL!

Notice how the creepy kid ISN'T in the picture. 

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.

We're worldwide bitch, act like ya'll don't know.

We're huge in Germany. Just like David Hasselhoff.