Just because people get naked, doesn’t make it a happy ending.

6 Apr

A typical story about a boy and a girl.

Once upon a time, there was a girl. She was terribly beautiful and
wore super cute clothes and had a bodacious bod and everyone wanted a piece o’
dat. Therefore, this girl shall be referred to as Super Perfect Girl, or SPG.
So, basically, SPG’s milkshake brought all the boys to the yard and she was
never without a trail of slobbering baboons to follow her every move, and all
other girls hated her for it.

One day, as SPG was walking to school in her designer shoes, she
tripped over a leaf or whatever and face-planted on the sidewalk, much to the
horror/amusement of her entourage. The trip in itself was not of importance,
for she simply picked herself up and trotted gracefully the rest of the way to
school as if the fall had never happened. The real action was yet to occur, and
that fall would turn out to be the most monumental, life-altering moment of her
life.

In the mean time, there was a boy. He was charming, but not
incredibly handsome. When given a chance to show off his wit to girls, he would
dazzle them, mesmerizing them with his prose… at least until they were
otherwise distracted. He was not a football captain. Or a ladies man. Or Prom
King. Or anything of importance, really. Thus, he was Mostly Lame Dude, MLD.

MLD also walked to school every morning. He didn’t take the same
route as SPG; he walked on a street parallel to the street she walked on. Day
after day, they walked practically alongside each other, completely unaware,
due to the curtain of trees that separated them. Of course, he knew who she was
and  of course, she had no idea he even
existed… until that one fateful day when their lives would be forever
intertwined. See, MLD, too, had fallen that morning– tripped over a
caterpillar or whatever– and unbeknownst to the two teens, they had fallen at the exact same time, on the exact same longitudinal line,
at the exact moment that
the sun eclipsed a magical star or some other magical entity. From that moment
on, life would never be the same.

The two frolicked merrily with their respective cliques all
morning, and it wasn’t until lunch time that they realized anything was out of
the ordinary. SPG felt a strange pulling sensation on her bodacious bod, as if
a magnet were tugging at her. MLD felt the tugging, too, on his average, lanky,
teen male body. Unable to control themselves, they allowed themselves to be
guided where the unusual force was leading them. After a few moments of
mindless shuffling, they noticed each other, and realized it was to each other
that they were being pulled. Still not sensing any immediate danger, they
continued on until they were face to face.

What happened next was unexpectedly horrific. At the exact same
moment, SPG and MLD lunged towards one another, and pantsed each other. As soon
as their pants hit the floor, the force lifted from them and they felt free of
the grasp of the tugging. By this time, the entire cafeteria had turned their
attention toward the unusual spectacle and gasps could be heard from all around
at the sight of the pantsless pair. SPG and MLD scrambled to pull their pants
up, completely speechless, because, seriously, what do you say to that?

Unfortunately, as soon as they had fastened their buttons, the
force took over again and in a whirl, they were again bare-bottomed. Again and
again, they tried to cover themselves, and again and again they found
themselves lacking in the pants department.

And so, SPG became a beer-bellied alcoholic.

And MLD wrote poetry about freedom and caterpillars and leaves or
whatever.

And the two were destined to live a life of involuntary pantsing
until their dying days.

A Brief Warning About the Severity of Pubic Elves

6 Oct

(I had to write this for a health class assignment)

Pubic elves are little men who infest your crotch and leave a sparkling green rash. There is no cure for pubic elves. They set up camp. THEY NEVER LEAVE. And they most certainly do not pay rent.

You do not become immune to Pubic Elves just because you live in a fancy shmancy house with winding stairs and a chocolate swimming pool. Whether or not your parents graduated college with honors plays no part in the condition of your downstairs mix-up. Love, or what you may perceive as love, can’t cancel out the fact that your boyfriend’s junk is sketchier that the school’s meat special. You don’t want a disease? Don’t sink the sailor prior to a committed relationship. That’s the only way to ensure the safety of your beloved nether regions.

A Few Rules for Your General Well-being

23 Sep

 

1. Everything is going to be just fine. Don’t worry. About anything. If you worry about acne, you’re going to get a freaking pimple.

2. You will always be in your awkward phase. People who look and act normal on the outside probably have a serious case of genital herpes. Feel fortunate that all you have to deal with is a pimple or two.

3. Drink water directly from the faucet. Then, you will never have to worry whether your glass is half empty or half full. 

4. Do not threaten to punch people in the face. Punch them in the face, then say “That’s right, I just punched you in the face.” Don’t be a pussy.

5. Refrain from getting a lower back tattoo. At all costs.

5a. Refrain from getting a tribal band tattoo. At all costs.

5b. Refrain from getting a snake and dagger tattoo. At all costs.

5c. Refrain from getting a facial tattoo. At all costs.

5d. Refrain from getting a tattoo of the word “tattoo”. This shouldn’t even cross your mind. Seriously. 

6. Write a book. Attempt to get it published. When it bombs, go to the nearest bar, drink your sorrows away, have drunken adventures, and when you’re sober, write a book about those drunken adventures. Get it published. You’ll be filthy rich.

7. If you’re going to make babies, make attractive ones.

8. There are two different kinds of spit: the kind you can swallow and the kind you can’t.

9. If you have a Twitter, 90% of your “tweets” should have a sexual or offensive nature. Otherwise, no one will follow you.

10. Chug a glass of water before every meal. This not only causes you to feel fuller, in turn making you eat less, sometimes peeing just feels so damn good.

11. Vampires are not cool. If you actually saw one, you would not think it was cool. Period. The end. You would be scared out of your tighty whities, you pansy, twilight-loving, Stephanie-Meyer-ass-kissing freak.

 

My Girl Crush (and girl crushes in general)

14 Jul

        tn2_elizabeth_hurley_1

 [This is a repost from my Facebook, but it seems worthy as my first blog post] 

Well, I seem to have some time on my hands, so I choose to spend it writing about my HUGE, FLAMING, LESBIAN crush on Elizabeth Hurley. I mean, this woman is freaking great!

To go ahead and eliminate any questions in this arena, I will first address the guidelines for said “girl crushes”.

How to know if you have a REAL girl crush:

1. You must be physically attracted to the object of your girl crush. As in, seeing them naked would make you very excited, indeed.

2. You must be somewhat attracted to their personality. They don’t need to be an Einstein or an *Insert name of favorite comedian here* or an *Insert name of very suave person here*, but they should have at least one characteristic you admire. Such as wit, humor, or intelligence.

3. You are required to have Google Imaged said person more than once in the dead of night. Not necassarily naked, for, many candidates for girl crushes are above that.

4. You must genuinely feel that if your girl crush were to present themself to you, buck naked, on a platter, with all but an apple in their mouth, you would absolutely, 100% drop your pants and act on your selective-lesbianism.

Once you can successfully check off this list, you KNOW for sure you have actue lesbianism. A disorder quite incurable. But even if there were one, I would decline it. Because I, good reader, have selected the PERFECT WOMAN to be the apple of my momentarily-lesbian eye. She’s young (ish), has a SMOKIN’ bod, and makes me pee myself every time I watch “Bedazzled.” My current desktop background is a ravishing photo of her, I’ve recently make her my phone background as well, and, depending when you read this, my status may well be about her. My only goal at this point in my life is to meet her someday and have our hands brush as we stand there, or exchange a hug that lingers a second longer than usual. *Sigh.* How unattainable my goals seem to be.

However, despite how this note makes me appear, I am quite heterosexual. I love me some fellas. But for Elizabeth Hurley, I would not only diss and dismiss men, I would completely cease contact with every single one of them.

After absorbing this incite into my awkwardly random life, I hope you will leave a comment about your past or present girl crushes. Have a marvelously ordinary day, and stay out of trouble, kids. Farewell.

Pip pip, cheerio,
Dana

Some more glorious pictures:

Elizabeth_Hurley_Biography_10 elizabeth_hurley_25 elizabeth_hurley_24 elizabeth_hurley_23 elizabeth_hurley_22 elizabeth_hurley_17 elizabeth_hurley_9 elizabeth_hurley_7 elizabeth_hurley Elizabeth%20Hurley