So, last weekend after the utter embarassment of stuffing my thighs and stomach into a pair of too-small boxer shorts, I looked back on the situation and had to laugh. Like, ROFL, laugh. (Ew, did I just use that lingo? I feel like I’m 12.)

Yes, it made me feel a little hefty next to my Manorexic friend, but that sh*t was funny. And it is only one of many mortifying hook-up stories. Let’s be honest - two drunk and horny people heading home to a dark bedroom is a total recipe for embarassment and hilarity. And it seems I am not alone in this one. This week we asked our writers to contribute their most humiliating hook up stories. These will totally make you LOL.

Elizabeth – Baruch College: I once awoke with a boy (having not remembered how he got to my bed) only for him to tell me: “You’re bleeding everywhere.” Thinking I had gotten my period, I was like, “Oh god, sorry, dude.” But to my surprise, it was my back that was bleeding. During our rampaging sex, apparently, I had fallen onto my computer plug and it impaled my back. I still have the scar. Fact.

Blair - Gettysburg College: My sophomore year me and my boyfriend got. it. on. and then passed out naked on the couch. We woke up awhile later when his roommate and friends came back late-night (with pizza!) and found us in the buff.

Kate Bean: Up until the age of… well… last weekend, I had thought queefing was just a normal side effect of great sex. In the past, guys acknowledge this sex toot with a little chuckle or nod of the head. APPARENTLY not all guys are so familiar with the experience; I actually had a guy glare at me. GLARE! Little did he know, my vagina was glaring right back at him in disappointment. Read More »

T.G.I.F.

Remember when that meant a night of Full House and Family Matters? Now it just means a night of heavy drinking followed by a day of serious sleeping. And I still love it just as much.

This week was a long one. We lost Estelle Getty. Our boyfriend, Christian Bale, was arrested for yelling at his mother. And we found out that all the not-so-hard work we are putting into college isn’t worth crap anymore. Awesome.

But even though another week has passed, crazy girls are still around, we are still too picky when it comes to picking boys, and freaky guys are still all about peeing on us in bed. WTF?

Maybe we should stick to being single? It is far too hard to find a tall guy anyway. And getting into a relationship only means adding another ex to the list…who you will never be able to avoid thanks to our generation’s problem with oversharing.

Ugh. I need a shot.

At least boys are starting to appreciate more comfortable undies. I’ll keep that thought close to my heart as I enjoy yet another awesome summer weekend.

Lots of action movies suck. Sure, some of them are worth their $20 million plus budgets, but most are products of testosterone, half-baked skills, and a complete miscalculation of how stupid the movie-going audience is.

So yes, lots of action movies suck, but every once in a while, there comes along a film so sh*tastic that it makes movies like Swordfish seem like Citizen freaking Kane. The Day After Tomorrow is one of those sh*tastic sh*t fests. In fact, I think The Day After Tomorrow is probably the worst movie that has been made in the last 6 years (and yes, I’m lumping in SuperBabies: Baby Geniuses 2). Need proof? Here’s a list.

5th Reason This Movie Blows: Lame 2 Syllable Or Less Names

Let’s run through a short cast of characters, shall we? Jack Hall, Sam Hall, Lucy Hall, Jason, Frank, J.D, and Brian. I mean, where’s John Johnson? Bob Smith? Usually, I don’t give a flying eff about character names, but when you have people saying each other’s names every.other.second, the exhaustingly uncreativeness starts to eat away at you.

4th Reason This Movie Blows: Nobody Cares About Their Damn Family (Except the Angelic Hall Family Who Are So Angelic They Might Be Decedents Of Jesus)

So, if you’ve never seen this movie I’m about to ruin it for you…not like there’s much to ruin…but basically, thirty minutes into the film the earth flips out for no reason and sh*t gets majorly destroyed and the top half of the U.S is frozen over. There’s a few people taking refuge in the Manhattan Public library (including Sam Hall [Jake Gyllenhaal acting his ass off to make his character interesting], his love interest, some friends, and a few randoms), and when they realize that most of the nation is destroyed…they’re kind of upset and stuff, but that’s about it. Read More »

That guy you brought home last night? Let’s just say he wasn’t lookin’ so good this morning. Not only do you not want to have to experience that face again, but the thought of marching this turd past your roommates is making your stomach churn (or is that the whiskey?).

Well, you don’t have to. Not with The Ugly Bag. Just throw that sh*t over his head and you are home free. And at a measly $1.85 you are gonna wanna stock up. You know… Welcome Week is coming.

Christian Bale was merely defending his wife? Awwwww!

Wanna work in politics? Just have an affair!

Sick of Facebook yet? Yeah, me either. But it just got even better.

Viagra may work for women?

Apparently, some dudes agreed that women in skinny jeans could not be raped because removing them would require consent? Yeah…took awhile, but that’s been reversed.

The Jo-Bros are probably pissing off a lot of Dallas homeowners right now….

Porta-Potty art! (Doesn’t make the smell go away, though.)

Earth-friendly junk mail? Hot granny panties? Declining gas prices? Impossible!

An old favorite to get you through the day. Weeeeeeeeeee!

When I was 12 I had thick bangs, giant braces and a wardrobe that consisted of my brothers’ yellow-crusted-arm-pitted-hand-me-downs. I wore Umbros – one leg green, one leg purple – and maroon reverse fit jeans (read: mom jeans). I thought I was super stylish when I threw on one of my brother’s flannel button downs…and only buttoned the middle one!

I realize times have changed and fashion is a lot more accessible to the youngsters, but this girl is really making me feel like sh*t. Even now. And I really love my wardrobe. Or, I did, until I started seeing hers.

I don’t really know who this chicadee is and I totally question who is really behind the writing of this blog (because there is no way in hell a 12 year old could write this way….and if she can, I hate her even more), but none of that really matters. This little fashionista clearly exists…and obviously does so just to make us normal people feel bad about ourselves.

The whole thing is just crazy. She struts her chic NYC style down the hallways of her middle school. She rocks vintage frocks as she jumps the swings on the playground. And she can rock a look like this without looking totally ridiculous. Read More »

A growing sense of disdain for Dubya didn’t cut it. Being able to register at the DMV just didn’t do the trick either. P. Diddy couldn’t get us to do it, for Christ’s sake. So just what will it take to seriously win the youth vote? We are, after all, 20 million strong and dammit we deserve to be wooed!

I, for one, would like to see an increase in, shall we say, “game” from candidates both blue and red. McCain, obviously, has taken a step toward this lofty goal by recruiting the support of one of our high holy leaders. Sorry, Obama, that you have neglected to secure such a prestigious pledge of loyalty from the chosen generation (us, duh) but feel free to borrow any of these gems that I think would increase voter turnout for those of the youthful persuasion. You see gentlemen, the key to our hearts is to manipulate our basic dependence upon the following:

Natty Lite
Slap some platform positions on the back of those bad boys and cover up the saddening nutrition facts–we don’t need to see that anyways. I consider this a double-edged sword. Not only would the important issues be readily at hand (provided you go coozie-less), but additionally, voters can appreciate the conversational lubrication that is cheap beer. As inspiring as 4.2% alcohol can be to philosophical convos (if you drink, don’t EVEN pretend you’ve never been there post bar crawl!) that stuff takes a while to imbibe, making those discussions last just a wee bit longer. Now that a pseudo intellectual discush has gone down, both candidates have enjoyed spirited (literally) debate over their issues that should inspire sober consideration come November. Read More »

We all know that there are people out there who make a living trading sex for money. Hell, one of them is even getting her own TV show. As human beings, many of us frown upon the act of prostitution and view it as something dirty, disgusting and just plain sad.

Sex, after all, is supposed to be about love and expressing that love with a very special someone.

Or, at least, it should be free.

But it seems that maybe this whole “trading sex for something” thing is actually innate in all of us. A at the University of Michigan (Go Blue!) revealed that many people – including those from affluent backgrounds – were willing to (and already had!) trade sex for a good or service.

The results shocked many. Why would someone who has everything – and the means to get anything they needed – reduce themselves to bartering with their loins? I am no Psychologist (even if I did minor in Psych at UofM), so I won’t even attempt to answer that. Instead, I pondered the many things I would give it up for. Read More »

Alcohol is one hell of a substance. It tastes sorta gross, costs sorta a lot and makes you do things that you obviously would have decided against sober. More often than not, a night of drinking leaves me with a hangover and a WTF moment that makes me want to crawl under the covers and never come out.

Like that time I let my best friend make his way downtown (if you get what I mean) and my other friends caught us mid sex act.

Yeah, just like that time.

My best friend is a guy who we’re going to call Dean. Once upon a time, actually right when I first started dating my now very ex-boyfriend, Dean accompanied me to a party held by another one of my friends. A casual house affair with lots of liquor because, well, that’s how we do. My new boyfriend at the time decided not to come me with me to the party because he didn’t know anyone that would be there. So Dean came with me because, he’s my best friend…and also because there would be booze.

After way too many shots the party started to die down and the guests stumbled out. I was having difficulty standing, so the party host asked me and Dean to stay over. Dean was slowly fading as well, so we took her up on the offer.

Did I mention that when I’m drunk I get pretty touchy feely? Or that I was pretty pissed off at my boyfriend for not coming? Yeah, still does not excuse what happens next. Read More »

We all have our weird habits. And we have all learned throughout our lives that it is best to keep those things hidden. I mean, no one needs to know that I end an evening at the bar with a 100 Calorie pack and a jar of peanut butter.

We were discussing these things the other day - our guilty pleasures - and wondered if we were the only ones who had em. I can’t possibly be the only person out there who dances around to Britney Spears in my underwear, right? Right?

In an effort to make ourselves feel better (or less weird), we asked our writers this week to share their guilty pleasures. The good news is: ours aren’t nearly as embarassing as we thought.

Kathryn S: The most dirty, vulgar songs ever recorded. I love listening to my “Perv Mix” on my ipod at that the gym: the little old ladies on the treadmill next to me have no idea that I’m listening to Blink 182’s “F*** a Dog” or Liz Phair’s “Hot White C*m.”

K - NYU: Singing in my car. Back in the glory days when I had a car and lived in a real place instead of Manhattan. “Invisible Touch” by Phil Collins is wayyyy up there, as well as “Escape” by Enrique Iglesias. Read More »