Thursday, December 15, 2011

The 5 Stages of Getting Shitty Grades at the End of the Semester



1. Denial. "I'll just cram before finals! I'll do fine!"  You refuse to look at blackboard during this time.

2. Anger. "WHYYY didn't I study for the last exam? Why did I skip lab?  For the love of God, why didn't I ever look at blackboard?!?!"

3. Bargaining. "Are you there God? It's me, Suzie. If you convince my professors to curve my grades, I'll never drink on a weekday again!  ....Do Thursdays count as weekdays?"

4. Depression. "I suck at life. I'm going to quit school and become a stripper and live in a trailer park."  This is the part where you find yourself sleeping until 4 pm.

5. Acceptance. "Ahhhh screw it. Who wants to grab a beer?"


-Suz  (Obviously Ash didn't write this, homegirl got a 4.0! Congrats Ash!)

Monday, December 12, 2011

The Game

Today I'm going to stray from my usual boys and farting themes and write an entry about something different.  Girls.  My own kind.  The fairer sex.  Whatever.  But before I even get started , I'm going to go ahead and include a disclaimer: I realize that the behavior I'm about to describe does NOT apply to all women.  Repeat, I realize it does not apply to all women.  But I'm going to write it as if it does and use a ton of generalizations because it's more fun for me that way.

What is The Game?

Here's the thing:  Girls HATE each other.  They do.  Why else would they walk into a bar or a club, see another girl that they don't even know, and exclaim, "Wow, what a slut!"  They don't even have to speak to another girl before the hate begins.

Girls hate each other because they're all in a huge ruthless competition for men.  It's an ongoing game, and every girl is a player.  They know that in order to obtain the most valuable male specimen, they must first prove themselves prettier, smarter, prettier, more successful, prettier, more likeable, and most importantly, prettier than the other girls.  So they furiously tear down any girl who appears to be a threat.

What are the teams in The Game?

Now you could say, "Wait Suz!  Girls have friends!  They can't hate their friends!"  FALSE.  Girls do not have friends.  Girls have teams.  They form these teams in order to more efficiently obtain men.  The teams are formed based on similar appearances and personalities (much in the same way leagues are formed) to ensure that no member of the team is attracting sub-par men.  At the same time, however, each girl on the team performs a different function.  For example, a highly functional team would consist of four girls, all sevens.  One curvy, one skinny, one slutty, and one girl next door.  The team members can easily cooperate as long as they remain in their designated categories.  If the girl next door starts to become promiscuous, she and the slutty one can no longer be allies.  They must immediately begin to hate each other.  The teams will go to mating grounds (bars, clubs, social gatherings, etc...) together and wait for potential mates, using any spare time to point out flaws in other nearby teams.

How long does each round last?


Sometimes the competition is short and repetitive, such as one night stands or fuck buddies.  Other times the competition leads to long term relationships.  Obtaining a long term relationship does not guarantee a win.  The competition continues regardless.  While some girls consider respecting a relationship to be a rule of the game, most do not.  In fact, many girls consider sleeping with someone else's boyfriend a double win and brag of their success.  Girls with boyfriends use logic and rationality to fight back against these "homewreckers" by becoming possessive, jealous, distrusting, and even more hateful. 


How do you quit The Game?

Some girls eventually attempt to quit The Game.  They can't handle the pressure of having to find and maintain relations with a valuable male specimen, so they settle for one several leagues below their own, such as a girl who is a seven dating a two.  This will often secure a relationship, as no logical man would trade a seven for a two.  It doesn't always work though, because men can be stupid and illogical.

Why The Game sucks:


The Game sucks because it's fucking stressful.  Instead of calmly waiting for a man (who is out there hunting to begin with) to make his way over to her, a girl finds it necessary to insult and ostracize anyone who could be considered a threat.  As if life isn't difficult enough without turning romantic relations into a massive battlefield...

How to win The Game:


You can't win The Game.  No one ever wins The Game

Monday, December 5, 2011

An e-mail to the girl who tweeted about my shoes....

 I'm not one to get into stupid e-battles.  Generally if I have a problem with someone, I bring it up to them in person and we talk/battle it out from there.  But today I'm tired, stressed, and feeling like a smartass.  And also today, some random girl in one of my classes decided to post an angry tweet about me picking at my split ends and wearing high heels to class.  ("Quit wearing high heels to a nine am!" -Bitch)  The only reason I even saw it was because my professor (who I follow on Twitter) retweeted it with a comment.  Upon creeping, I realized that the bitchy tweet was in fact about me.  So I decided to pound off a passive aggressive e-mail calling her out on... well... just being a bitch.  It gave me a good laugh so I figured I'd post it on here, mainly for my own amusement.  I switched the names up a bit just to protect the bitch's privacy.

Dear Ms. Umbridge,

It has come to my attention that the footwear I choose to wear to my morning classes has become an issue for you during our 9 am course.  Although I personally have never been concerned by the fashion choices of others, I try to be a reasonable and understanding person.  Therefore, I have spent some time brainstorming different reasons that you may find my "high heels" a problem worth expressing your feelings about.

One explanation I came up with is that you may be suffering from gigantasophobia.  Gigantasophobia is, by definition, "the fear of growing tall or of tall people."  Because my high heels render me three inches taller than my normal 5'7, they are likely to disturb someone with such a condition.

While gigantasophobia explains your behavior, I don't truly believe it is the culprit. Another condition that is likely to cause concern over my high heels is congenital talipes equinovarus, more commonly known as "club foot."  Although it seems petty that you would let your deformed and oversized feet spawn such envy of my ability to wear and walk in heels, I imagine that if I had such an embarrassing condition, I would be jealous too.  Don't worry.  I'm not judging.  You should know that club foot occurs in 1 of every 1,000 babies born in the US, and that they have surgeries available to treat your condition.

Here are links to a few support websites I thought might help.

http://www.childrensorthopaedics.com/clubfoottalipesequinovarus.html
http://www.clubfoot.co.uk/ygroups.htm
http://www.clubfootclub.org

Of course, if you in fact do not have gigantasaphobia or congenital talipes equinovarus, there is a good chance that you are simply one of those people who likes to talk and complain about things that do not concern her.  If that is the case, please disregard the previous suggestions in this e-mail.  Instead, focus on this: Just because you want to look like a slob at 9 am doesn't mean that I have to.

Hope this helps,
Suz

Saturday, November 12, 2011

The 5 Tactics Ex-Boyfriends Use When You Run Into Them at a Bar

 So last night I went out with a friend for her 21st birthday, and the group I was with just happened to include my ex-boyfriend.  We haven't spoken in about 6 months, and our breakup wasn't exactly pretty... (I left him crying in a parking lot.)  So he ended up pulling a #2 (No it's not a poop reference, read the blog and you'll understand.) and I ended up drinking more vodka than I have ever publicly consumed in my life.  (That being said, please excuse my grammar.  I have a killer hangover today and it might throw my writing game off.)

The whole incident got me thinking about the different interactions I've had with my exes when I've run into them in public.  In a perfect world, you're both cool with one another and manage to smoothly ease your way into the friend zone.  But that rarely happens.  So I've compiled a list of tactics that your ex may or may not use in response to that awkward run in.

The Tactics:

1.  The "try to make you jealous" tactic.  He's over you, happy, and he'll be damned if you don't see him chatting with every other girl at the bar.  The only problem is that men have a tendency to be terrible at bullshitting.  He's clearly trying too hard to prove that he's moved on, and ironically, is doing the exact opposite.  Best strategy?  Ignore him until he's trying so hard to be a ruthless womanizer that he makes a complete jackass of himself.  Then you can laugh.

2.  The Nostalgia Maneuver.  Remember the time that you two sat under the stars and held each other close because you were so in love?  He does.  Remember the time the two of you boned on top of the washing machine?  He definitely does.  And he's going to take it upon himself to remind you of all the good times you had together in hopes that he can nostalgia his way into getting you to want him back.  Best strategy:  Vodka.

3.  The ignoring tactic.  He'd rather create a completely awkward atmosphere than have to face you.  Sure, it's better than tactics one and two, but he's making himself look like a total d-bag.  He could at least make some small talk to keep the awkk level down.  Best strategy?  Pretend he doesn't exist.  But speaking of d-bags, there is also....

4.  The asshat tactic.  Maybe you rejected him.  Maybe he was just a douche to begin with.  But he's going to do everything he can to damage your self esteem.  It's going to be a long night of passive aggressive comments and "jokes" about your intelligence and appearance.  Best strategy:  Save yourself an eating disorder and just don't talk to this guy.

5.  The "getting shitfaced" maneuver.  This is the easiest for you to deal with, it just sucks for his friends who are going to have to take care of him.  Getting shitfaced can be combined with any other maneuver on this list, but fortunately, you won't be able to understand a word he's saying.  Best strategy:  You don't need one.  This kid is a walking shit show.


Classic #5. 

Friday, November 4, 2011

Girls are just, like, too much drama, ya know?

Another pet peeve of mine came to mind today:  The girl who collects "guy friends."  This came to mind while watching Big Bang Theory, one of my many guilty pleasures.  It's about a ragtag group of supernerds who live next door to the lovably girly and undeniably hot Penny.  Penny, fortunately, must be an endearing character and therefore is not a "man collector," but it is so within her capabilities that it made me think of the concept regardless.

Man collectors are girls who are usually semi to extremely attractive, rock the "easygoing girl next door" persona, and have a natural charm to them that makes them appeal to multiple types of men.  Maybe you're a girl and you have a friend like this.  Maybe you're a guy and you're part of a girl's "collection."  Maybe you're a man collector yourself.  But we all know that there are some girls out there who "like, only get along with guys.  It's like, so weird.  Girls are too much drama." 

This is bullshit.  Unless you enjoy having sex with girls, there is no way you will ever be "one of the guys."  Maybe girls are too much drama because you're a bitch.  Or actually, you're probably one of those girls who likes to subtly move in on another girl's boyfriend, playing the "comforting friend who listens to your problems but in actuality, you would have sex with them in a heartbeat" role. That's why you don't get along with girls, dumbass.

Maybe you're reading this and thinking, "But I love my guy friends!"  That's good.  I am happy for you.  I have a handful of really great guy friends, and sometimes it's easier for me to get along with guys anyways.  I had a better relationship with my dad than with my mom, so I'll attribute it to that.  But when I turned 18, I noticed my guy friend count thinning out.  That's because I was of the age where I slowly realized that many of my "buddies" actually just wanted to bone, and that's half the reason they were so nice.

So if you're a girl, and you're over 18 (you get a pass if you're still in grade school), take a look at your relationships with these so called "guy friends."  Do you go to them for favors more often than your female friends?  Are they more likely to do you a favor than your female friends?  Do you complain to them about your boy problems as they gently console you by saying, "Any guy would be happy to have sex with you?"  Do they want to have sex with you?  Do you subtly cocktease the shit out of them? 

If the answer is yes, you might be a man collector.  Nice going, you manipulative bitch. 

-Suz


Tuesday, November 1, 2011

How to Strengthen Your Relationship

This is going to be a very interesting post.  The material covered in today's blog isn't what girls normally talk about.  I'm going where no woman has gone before.  But whatever.  This is an issue that needs to be addressed, and I think I'm the girl for the job.

Huge pet peeve:  Men that don't fart in front of you.  Men that you're DATING that don't fart in front of you eventually.  I don't mean that he has to rip ass on the first, second, or third date, but once you've seen his penis, the time has come. 

Men, being the more rugged, low maintenance sex, need to understand that it is their role in the relationship to initiate the farting phase.  Not to say that I've never been the one to bite the bullet, but it's so much easier if the one who scratches their balls goes first.  It doesn't have to be a train horn or a lethal weapon, just a simple fart to demonstrate the fact that you're comfortable enough around the person to be a human being with normal bodily functions.  A fart-icebreaker, so to speak.

Once, I had been dating a guy for about 3 months.  We were in a Facebook official relationship and were pretty comfortable around each other, or so I thought.  It was about 11 pm, and I was sitting on his bed working on homework.  He was sitting on his futon checking email.  He farted.  I didn't think anything of it, but he APOLOGIZED PROFUSELY.  For a fart!  He was incredibly embarrassed about something that honestly, no one gives a damn about.  We were broken up within the next two weeks.  Sure, you could say that the breakup had nothing to do with the fart.  But I know deep down that it played some kind of role.

The moral of the story?  If you want to strengthen your relationship, let one rip.  If you want to ruin your relationship, make a huge embarrassing deal out of a normal bodily function.  And if you want to sit around in agony squeezing your butt cheeks together trying to hide the fact that you're experiencing gut wrenching cramps from gas backup, don't fart at all.  The choice is yours.

-Suz

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Words of Wisdom Compilation

We had a few "words of wisdom" (AKA stupid things we say when we're drunk) posts.  I decided to compile them all together to clean up the ol' blog a little bit.  Keep things organized.  You know.

"If I can't be in your inbox, your penis can't be in my vagina."
-Ash

"Even Harry Potter makes mistakes."
-Suz

"Sometimes, when your boobs are that big, you HAVE to wear a bra."
-Ash

"Your vagina is like the sword of Gryffindor.  It only takes in that which makes it stronger."
-Suz

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Extended Orgasms: Are they a myth?

Recent sources have told me (after witnessing firsthand) that extended orgasms are actual occurrences and that the human race is not cursed to the usual 30 seconds or less orgasms.  ...Well excuse me while I go saddle up the fucking unicorn that just landed on the roof and ride off into the night.  I don't know what to believe anymore.  Anything is possible now.

This is like some reading rainbow shit.
-Suz

P.S. - It was me! That myth is Busted! (Ashley)

Monday, October 17, 2011

Ash and Suz's Rules for Life

These are a few rules that we have come up with and posted back and forth on Facebook throughout our college career.  The list will most certainly grow with time, seeing as it's a bit short.  Also, pay no attention to the numbers.  They don't really mean anything.
Rule 3: It is socially acceptable to press the "eject button" under certain conditions* *see section 1B
   *
Section 1B: When an entire carton of ice cream (or cookies, etc.) is consumed while under the influence, when Tylenol PM is taken before a spontaneous night of drinking, and before being naked or partially naked.
Rule 4: Emotions expressed while under the influence are to be disregarded the following day by everyone involved.
Rule 6: Upon leaving the apartment before a night out, the correct response to "Do I look ok?" is either "Yes, a 14+" or for special occasions "You look prettier than a magnolia in May."
Rule 14: If a shot is offered, take it. Your looks will only get you free drinks for a few years.
Rule 17: Size and sexual ability under no circumstances may compensate for overly intense interests in subjects that are socially unacceptable, particularly when the perpetrator does not attempt to keep such interests hidden.
Rule 22: If the slutty cheetah dress is worn, the corresponding zebra dress shall accompany it.
Rule 32: Shoes, beer, and sober rides are legitimate currency for at least the next 3 years.
Rule 36: Shaving must be timed with extreme accuracy to prevent five o'crotch shadow (term coined by Suzie) from preventing a moment of passion/bad decision making. 
Rule 37: Lack of shaving can be used as an incentive to prevent said bad decision making.
Rule 44: Calories consumed while under the influence of alcohol cannot be held against the consumer the following day.
Rule 47: No free passes unless you drink out of the appropriate cup prior to indecent actions.
Rule 53: Under no circumstance are you allowed to date or sleep with a man who sports a peacoat.
Rule 54: Calories are irrelevant when cooking or baking for other people.

Saturday, October 15, 2011

Don't shelter your kids...

My mom never let me watch Spice World when I was a kid.  She thought it was inappropriate...  I was a very sheltered child.  I bet she didn't think that when I actually watched Spice World, I would be 21 years old, still drunk at 9 am, and eating cold noodles by myself.  Just saying.

Monday, October 10, 2011

Fun times with Suz's family.

Mom:  She developed an unhealthy obsession with her gynecologist.  Rusty, that would be like you being obsessed with your proctologist.
Dad:  Yeah, that's the kind of relationship that just hits you from behind.

Sunday, October 9, 2011

Not my best writing, but I needed to get this off my chest. (Written by Suz.)

In case you didn't know, Ash and I are both single and somewhat recently came out of relationships.  We're at that exciting dating limbo stage where the number one goal as far as the opposite sex is concerned is to play the field without serious involvement or attachment. 

Somehow we forgot to read the manual...

I will be the first to admit that Ash is much better than me in this arena.  I can barely look at someone without growing attached to them, and I'm absolutely awful at turning people down.  So when we go out, I generally just consider my number one relationship the one I have with the drink in my hand and let her do the heavy flirtation.

Best.  Decision.  Ever. 
Hopefully she won't get mad at me for posting about her like this (sorry Ash) but in her recent dating life, she has managed to uncover dud after dud.  I'm talking about attractive and sociable young men who SEEM like they would be normal enough... If "normal" means leaving horror-movie style voicemails on a girl's phone or trying to sneak attack women with your penis.  These "men" are the most disappointing either of us have ever encountered consecutively, which makes me wonder what exactly we're putting in our milkshakes that brings so many sketchy boys to the yard.  (Ha.  Clever.)

I have a theory.  If proven true, this theory could help explain why poor behavior among men has become so socially acceptable in the college environment.  I'll begin my explanation by telling a true story.

Once upon a time there was a girl who drank too much.  And living near that girl was a very nice boy named Arthur who did not have a drinking problem.  Sometimes, after the girl (we'll call her "Snuggle Bandit") got in from a long night of binge drinking, she would wander over to Arthur's place, knock on his door, and ask to come in and "hang out," AKA sleep.  Arthur would usually laugh at how stupid Snuggle Bandit was but let her pass out on his chest anyways. This happened on several occasions.  Though she spent many nights with him, he NEVER took sexual advantage of her drunken state.  Because of this, Arthur was revered by all females who heard this tale and was declared to be an incredible guy.  The end.

I'm not saying anything negative about Arthur.  Arthur was and still is a great guy for reasons other than his generosity towards Snuggle Bandit.

The issue at hand is the fact that not "taking advantage" of a drunk girl is now considered rare. (And let's face it.  Most girls have had one of those nights where she's forgotten her limits and found herself defenseless against creepers.  At least once.)

 Exhibit B:  The other night, Roommate #3 got absolutely wasted and essentially threw herself at one of her guy friends... we'll call him "Paul Bunyan."  Fortunately, he put her to bed and left our apartment, no funny business involved.  My initial thought when I heard about this?  "What a nice guy!"

What a nice guy for... being a decent human being?  Have our standards really become so low that we think it's something really special when a guy behaves like a gentleman?  Is it really so unusual when a guy doesn't have an uncontrollable desire to put his penis in a girl so wasted that she's practically unresponsive? 

You know you want it.

This is just another example of my own twisted thought process concerning common standards for "nice men."  So no wonder men seem to be evolving backwards.  Somewhere down the line, me (and other females, I'm sure) have lowered the bar.  When you expect to find men who are disrespectful and think with their penises, of course that's all you're ever going to uncover.

So maybe the behavior of men like Paul Bunyan and Arthur needs to be the standard.  Anything below that is not worth anyone's time.


 The result of disturbingly low standards.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Pancakes and Porn Stars (Written by Suz.)

So a good friend of mine (for privacy's sake we'll call her Karen) showed me some ultra-sexy pictures of herself that she wants to send to her boyfriend.  I'm not some sort of porn expert, and Karen isn't my secret  lesbian lover.  She just wanted a close friend's approval before she deemed them worthy of cyber-space.

These days, sending sexy pictures seems to be the newest controversial issue.  Due to a plethora of hormonal teenagers sending out pictures of their B-cups/junk, MTV has launched an "anti-sexting" campaign.  But as for adults, it is up to the woman (or sometimes the man) to decide whether or not they want to "put themselves out there" like that.

Let me tell you, I've had my run with dirty pictures.  It did not have a happy ending.  (Well, unless you count when the guy... and then... yeah.  Okay.)

First, I sent my best shot to my close friend... we'll call her Janet. I didn't realize at the time that because Janet's parents were basically putting her on lockdown due to some trouble she got into in college, all of her texts were forwarded to her dad's phone.

REPEAT.
Her texts.  Were forwarded.  To her dad's phone. 

So I sent Janet's dad a half naked picture of myself.** The next time I visited her family, it was an incredibly awkward experience for all three of us.  Nothing spices up a family spaghetti dinner like knowing that your best friend's dad has seen you in your lacy peach boy shorts.

But after Janet (and her dad) inspected my modeling skills, I went ahead and sent the picture to the guy I was dating at the time (we'll call him The Bum, for privacy's sake).  Fortunately, it didn't turn out like some of the horror stories where the girl breaks up with her boyfriend and he sends a controversial picture of her to everyone he knows, ruining her future career forever.  Eventually the image was deleted from both of our phones.

But I didn't get off that easy (although The Bum probably had no trouble getting off).  Basically every day after I sent that picture, he would text me asking for another picture.  Every.  Single.  Day.  He would even make requests.  "This time show your ass!  Could you bend over for me?"  Do you have any idea what it's like to be a girl coming home from a long day serving pancakes and scrambled eggs (I was a pancake house waitress) to large families with screaming children, your hair a mess and your polyester uniform covered in butter and powdered sugar, and then have your idiot boyfriend get all up in your asshole about sending him softcore porn?  It's annoying.  Really annoying.  Annoying enough to warrant a run-on sentence.

So in my opinion, if you're a woman and you're thinking about sending a dirty picture, you might want to just call the guy up and invite him over to witness the real deal.

Oh, and if you're a man thinking about sending a dirty picture, 9 times out of 10 the girl is giggling on the bed with her 3 best friends squealing, "OMG I think he's really going to do it!  OMG he did it!  IT'S A PENIS!"  ....So that's probably not the best idea either.  Either way, though I'm not an expert on the subject by any means, in my experience the consequences just aren't worth the action.

And for the love of all that is holy, don't do this.


**For my reputation's sake, I'd like to clarify that the picture I sent was dirty but didn't show any obscene body parts.  Strictly PG-13.  My judgement isn't THAT poor.

Introduction to Suz and Ash. (Written by Suz.)

I've always found it incredibly annoying how every average Joe out there seems to believe that he/she deserves a personal blog, and that people will read about their "extraordinarily fascinating" lives in shock and awe.  (News flash:  No one wants to read a 700 word post about your cat.  You know who you are.)  Yet here I am thinking that the lives of me and my roommate are interesting enough to share with whoever happens to stumble upon our little pinch of cyberspace.  So instead of trying to write a long introduction like... oh... say... every other blogger out there, I'm going to list 5 reasons why we deserve to have our voices heard.

Reasons Why This Blog Deserves to Exist:

1.  My roommate (Ash) and I are intelligent young college students who find ourselves in the most bizarre situations as we juggle the many responsibilities life throws at us.  Ash is a self-proclaimed bio nerd who works as a tutor for the university.  I am a hospitality major and just yesterday I started my job at an upscale restaurant that caters to some of Greenville's high-end clientele.
2.  Although I could probably blog simply about our academic and work lives and still manage to keep things interesting, I should probably mention that Ash and I, like many college students, are heavy partiers.  But we don't just go out, get drunk, and dance around a club until we get tired and go home.  We go out, get drunk, and manage to say/do inappropriate things to all those unfortunate enough to cross our paths.  Example:  Just last Wednesday (Wednesday???  Really?!), I somehow managed to get absolutely shitfaced at a local bar and told some old man who was hitting on me that the only time he has ever had sex was when he paid for it.  Poor guy.
3.  We have notebooks scattered all over our apartment with "lists" in them.  Some of them list stupid things she and I have said, some list stupid things boys have said to us, some list "rules to live by" that we've created from past experiences, and at one point I even had a list called "Shit My Boyfriend Says."  (Fortunately I finally dumped that one, so the list is no longer active.)  A blog is the perfect outlet for these amusing and instructive lists.
4.  Although the two of us are the only ones that the blog features, our lives are littered with the most interesting people.  Roommate #3, for example, has her own list of drunken adventures that you will hear about secondhand.  (Uhh, like the time she was so drunk that she didn't notice I poured her whiskey out and replaced it with unsweet tea?)  We also have an overabundance of interesting men in our lives.
5.  Ash and I are incredibly quirky.  On the surface we look like your average college party girls, but once you set foot in apartment 308 you realize how deep the rabbit hole goes.  It's almost like an alternate universe, where creepy cat clocks and stuffed possums watch your every move (Suz), and Jurassic Park is not only a movie, but way of life (Ash).

If that list doesn't justify a personal blog being written, I have no idea what does. We're like one of those indie movies that doesn't have an actual plot, but the characters are so interesting you watch it anyways.  The Napoleon Dynamite of the blogging world. 


So stay posted.  Eventually we'll figure how deep the rabbit hole goes.