It's the moment of truth, little lady.

We’re well into another new school year and to honor that, we at CollegeCandy are bringing back the fan-favorite series, “We’ve All Been There.”  (We tried to get another national holiday/long weekend for you guys but it’s way harder than we thought so this will have to do.) Every week, Lauren from the University of Michigan will comment on the common experiences all college women share – like class registration, the dreaded muffin top or, everyone’s favorite activity, procrastinating. Read, relate, cringe and enjoy.

Your boxes are unpacked, your bed is made, and your parents have left the building. You are officially a college student.

Woohoo! No more living under their rules. You are a free adult livin’ the dorm life. It takes a few days of getting used to, but you’re finally feeling settled. You’ve even sorta mastered the cafeteria slop. This whole college thing isn’t so hard after all.

That is, until you need to do a little #2 in the public bathroom down the hall. The one every other girl on the hall also frequents to shower, wash up, dry her hair, and do her business. Girls you don’t know. Girls you want to befriend. Feeling the stage fright, you’ve been unable to go for days and, between the cafeteria salad bar (roughage!) and the frat party jungle juice, it’s been rather difficult.

But now it’s time and you have no choice but to suck it up, drop the pants, and take care of business.

The feeling hits you fast. You drop everything you are doing (read: log off of Facebook) and do a little walk/run to the bathroom. You fumble with your keys as you unlock the door, then quickly pull it closed it behind you. You listen for anyone in the shower. You can hear some water running, so you scurry into a stall before anyone can see your face. After safely securing your door, you crouch down to see if any of the other stalls are in use. Thankfully, you are alone.

You turn to the toilet and notice some splash on the seat. You bend down and get in close to determine if it is some inconsiderate squatter’s pee, or maybe a little splash back from the toilet. Regardless of what it is, you are going to have to wipe it up before you let your precious cheeks hit the seat.

You grab a giant handful of toilet paper and wad it up, creating a thick barrier between your hand and the toilet seat. Then, gagging and turning your face away from the situation, you quickly wipe the seat, toss the paper in the toilet and flush it with your foot.

Phew. Now you’re ready.

You sit down and mentally prepare for your first public poop when you hear the door open and a few girls walk in.

“OhMyGod,” you think to yourself. “I can’t go with these girls in here! What if I make loud noises? What if I make the bathroom smell? They may see me or recognize my leopard print slippers! It’s social suicide.” You contemplate sitting silently until they leave, but it seems they are doing the same thing. Besides, after 10 days of zero bowel activity, holding out is really not an option. So you go with plan B: distraction.

You begin coughing, tapping your foot, and rolling and unrolling the toilet paper – anything to cover the sounds of what is happening in stall #3. Though it’s not the ideal sitch (and it’s nearly impossible to do your business and cough at the same time), you do manage to complete your task in a timely fashion without any embarrassing sounds or smells (well, really offensive ones, anyway), and even sneak out of the bathroom before anyone in the neighboring stalls can see your face. Or the sweat marks under your arms.

Yesssss, success!

– Yeah, we’ve all been there and it’s awkward. But if there’s anything we learned it’s that Everybody Poops, so don’t be afraid. By the end of the semester, you’ll be taking magazines, books and even your laptop in there with you and chatting with the girl next door. You may even wonder how you ever did it alone.

So it’s Friday. (Or Thursday, Saturday, or Tuesday morning….) You’ve got your favorite skinny jeans on, you stuffed your feet into a pair of  heels that start rubbing on your baby toes before you even leave the house, and you’re sipping on a little vodka/Crystal Light to get the night going. Once you’re feeling buzzed enough to handle the crowds at the campus bar, you throw that purse over your shoulder, loop arms with your besties and do a little run/walk into the night.

Only when you arrive, you realize pretty quickly that perhaps a few more drinks would have been a good idea before running into these annoying bar-goers.

10. Sloppy in Line:
We’ve all had that night. Whether it’s our 21st birthday or our “I just got dumped and need a night to get over it,” we’ve had the wasted-before-I-even-left-the-shower kind of an evening. But when I’m not having that night and someone else is tripping and falling into me, slurring his/her words and spewing chunks very close to my heels before we even get inside (true story), it’s not OK.

9. Martini Drinkers:
Repeat after me: there is no way to get this overpriced and probably watered-down martini from the bar to my table without spilling it everywhere. Even if I walk incredibly slowly and piss off everyone who is trying to get by me and to the bar.

8. Creepers:
I mean, do I really even need to say why?

7. Woo Hoo Girls:
(At least that’s what the How I Met Your Mother crew calls them.) These girls love to scream. When their boot of beer arrives, they scream. When their other Woo Hoo girl arrives, they scream. When Journey/Miley Cyrus comes on, they scream. When one of the Woo Hoo girls comes back from the bathroom with bloodshoot eyes and a little splash of puke on her cheek, they scream. And with each successive drink, the screams get louder and more shrill.

6. Bitter, Angry Bartenders:
All I’m asking you to do is crack open an Amstel Light and pass it over to me. What’s with the ‘tude?

5. Random Couple Trying to be Romantic:
Of all the quiet, coupley places you could go on campus to have a nice night, you chose this sweaty basement bar? Nevermind the fact that you can’t hear one another over the Usher songs blaring from the DJ booth, but there is nothing romantic about a bunch of really drunk, really sweaty kids grinding against the walls.

4. Bathroom Girls:
Hey you by the mirror – adding more powder isn’t going to make you look less shiny. Just thank god for the low lighting and get a move on. And you three in the handicap stall – can you stop crying about the boy that totally blew you off and let someone else use the toilet? And the rest of the girls in the world who just happen to take a long time to do their business, HURRY UP. I broke the seal/need to get back out there before ‘Like a Prayer’ comes on.

3. The Bar Loiterer
I know that at Cheers and The After Dark (behind the Peach Pit) people grab seats and order at the bar. But we’re in college, people, and there are hundreds of wanna-be-drunk patrons behind you trying to get their paws on a shark bowl. Can you be a doll, stop trying to look all sexy leaning up against the bar with that Miller Lite and walk. away? Kthanxbye.

2. The Big Dancer:
If you bump into me one more time, I swear to god…..

1. Ms. Perfect:
Seriously, how? How do you keep your hair straight, your makeup fresh and your pits dry while, by 1am, my sweaty hair is in a ponytail, my eyeliner is on a journey down my cheek and I have very obvious under-boob sweat stains on my cami? HOW?!

Today is May 5th. Many of you are wearing sombreros and chugging tequila graduate in a few weeks, or even days. (Did I just freak you out!?) Thankfully I’m on a college quarter system, so I have one more month of bliss before entering the real world. But still, there never seems to be enough time these days for everything I want to do.

I want to tie up lose ends, check off more things on my bucket list, hang with my friends, take those last few exams, and maybe even make out with that hot guy in my Comm class. But despite all the things I’ve yet to do, I still know graduation is approaching. And like paying taxes or eventual old lady boob saggage, there is nothing I can do to stop it.

Soon all of us will be packing up, moving out, and moving on. We will pack up our extra long twin bed sheets, our dorm room essentials, and say goodbye to our roommates. And for the first time ever, many of us will be living on our own for the first time ever. Think about it: we’ve lived with family until college where we had the luxury of dorm life or a whole slew of roommates to share our space wtih. But now we’re on our own. Many of you may cheer and jump at this notion. Others may weep.

I’m somewhere in between. I mean, I hated wearing shower shoes all the time, but I didn’t mind the coed bathroom (I see you, unnamed hottie sophomore year that “accidentally” let his towel drop a few times). I’m excited about leaving my 10X12 jail cell behind, but I’m apprehensive about going it alone in the real world. There are just pros and cons to both, and I can’t decide which I prefer.

Bathroom Situation
Dorm Life: Shower shoes. Ew. Girls who shed lots of hair in the shower. Ew. People stealing your body wash. Ew. But you don’t have to clean. Nice.
Real Life: PRIVACY. You can take as long as you want, do whatever you want, and not have to worry about anyone stealing that extra expensive shampoo you buy. But you do have to clean. Ew.

Men
Dorm Life: Rules and regulations about visiting hours, signing in guests, no alcohol policies at certain strict schools. It’s basically one big cock block.
Real Life: They can come over whenever you want. Yummy. They can also never leave and you could end up with a stage five clinger that eats all your food. That you paid for.

Walks of shame
Dorm Life: If you shack up with some guy in a different dorm, he is just a short walk from your dorm. But you are more likely to see everybody you know as you briskly walk/run home heels in hand in his baggy tee and oversized sweats.
Real Life: That walk of shame is now a cab of shame, which can just get expensive. If you live on the East side, and he lives on the West side, how much will that cost? And what will the cabbie think?

Cooking
Dorm Life: Don’t underestimate the awesomeness that is the dining hall. There’s a wide variety of options and choices, and buffet style means you can eat as much as you want (!!). There is also the potential of meeting some good looking dude munching down on some nachos. Who doesn’t love nachos?
Real Life: You have to cook. You have to buy lots of food, which will take up all that space usually reserved for Natty Light. But you also get to cook what you want (no more mystery meat here!) and will have the chance to cook healthier for yourself.

Drinking
Dorm Life: Let’s be honest, ladies; thanks to our gender (and our boobs) we don’t really spend much on booze. Parties overflow with beer, kegs, and shots, and they are freeeee. Sure, we have to sneak it into our dorm rooms in backpacks out of fear of getting in trouble, but whatever. It’s free.
Real Life: No rules! We’re 21 now, so we’re legit with the law. We can even have a cocktail with breakfast if we so please. Unfortch, that early morning mimosa is coming out of our pockets and the drink deals aren’t as good in the real world.

People
Dorm Life: They’re everywhere. They’re in the halls, in the bathroom, in the dining hall, in your way. Sometimes, you may crave some peace and quiet instead of that horrible girl singing in the shower on the third floor. But also, there’s always someone around to hang out with or chat with or swap clothes with.
Real Life: Your neighbors may talk to you… if you live in a friendly building. Or maybe they won’t. You can play your music loud… until the person below you calls the landlord. But you don’t have to deal with people all up in your personal space and can have a nice, quiet home to yourself.

Roommates
Dorm Life: They go to your college, so hopefully you know them at least a little bit. If they do go crazy on you, you can talk to the RA and maybe get a new roommate. But if you share a room, they are the ones that walk in when you clearly put the sock on the door and are hooking up with What’s His Face from that bar.
Real Life: Craigslist. It scares me. I don’t want to be the next news story because I found some psycho roommate online. You have to split rent, costs, and maintenance of your apartment or home. They have to wash the dishes, you have to take out the trash – things can get complicated.

Sigh. So much to think about! I can’t decide if I’m ready to leave the dorm life behind, can you? I’m definitely sick of sharing a bathroom, but is that really worse than getting killed in the night by your shady Craigslist roommate?!

Don't. Tell. Anyone.

Let’s face it: we’ve all done some pretty ridiculous things in our lives. Things we think are totally logical in the moment, but make us cringe when we think about them later on. Things that we’d only tell our best friend when she’s three sheets to the wind and we know she’ll probably forget it. Things that we hide from the people who love us (and judge us) most.

Things that even we, ourselves, wish we didn’t know about. But things that our friends, family, and fellow CollegeCandy readers are probably doing all the time, too.

Like our fake boyfriends that we tell strangers about. 

So here is our chance to let it all out. To share our secrets and find that maybe we’re not so crazy, so weird, so abnormal, after all. We’ll spill the beans every Tuesday and invite you to share your own similar experiences below. Just think of it as therapy. Or a really hilarious way to spend a Tuesday afternoon.

Confession: When I know I might be in the bathroom for awhile, I don’t grab a magazine or a book and take it with me; I grab my laptop. (Honestly, the bathroom is the only reason I’d get an iPad – it would be way more portable.) Sometimes I’ll do some online shopping, sometimes I’ll read TextsFromLastNight, but usually I’ll just continue whatever IM convos I was having before I went in there. Yes, while I poop. I’m sure some people would think it’s gross to talk to them while I do my bizness, but I like to think of it as multi-tasking. It’s not like we’re on video chat, right? I mean, that would be weird.

Got a confession? Get it off your chest here. Don’t worry, we won’t judge. We’re sitting here with no pants on, after all.

Let’s face it: we’ve all done some pretty ridiculous things in our lives. Things we think are totally logical in the moment, but make us cringe when we think about them later on. Things that we’d only tell our best friend when she’s three sheets to the wind and we know she’ll probably forget it. Things that we hide from the people who love us (and judge us) most.

Things that even we, ourselves, wish we didn’t know about. But things that our friends, family, and fellow CollegeCandy readers are probably doing all the time, too.

Like our secret form of revenge on an evil roommate (that we hope doesn’t read this site).

So here is our chance to let it all out. To share our secrets and find that maybe we’re not so crazy, so weird, so abnormal, after all. We’ll spill the beans every Tuesday and invite you to share your own similar experiences below. Just think of it as therapy. Or a really hilarious way to spend a Tuesday afternoon.

Confession: I don’t wash my hands after I go to the bathroom. Unless, of course, there are other people in there. I just don’t see the point; I use plenty of toilet paper to block pee from getting on my hands, so why waste the water? I am also a sitter. I can’t imagine any toilet seat is dirty enough to warrant the pain in my thighs from squatting over it while I do my business.

Got a confession? Get it off your chest here. We still watch ANTM, so who are we to judge?

I wish someone would have taken that bottle of cran away...

I’d consider myself a seasoned formal veteran. As such, I have acquired a bit of wisdom as far as formal do’s and dont’s. Whether you are a freshman going to formals for the first time or even a senior not affiliated in the Greek circuit, I have chosen a recent and epic failure at Greek formal-ing that will hopefully teach you from my mistakes… or at least give you a good laugh.

The Blind Date

Blind dates are quite common in the formal world. Twice now I have agreed to help out a friend of a friend who “just can’t get a date.” This would be the red flag for most girls – why on earth can’t this dude nab a date?! -  but I, blinded by naivete and the prospect of free food and drinks, always acquiesce. My second transgression was just a few weeks ago. We get to the place, which happened to be a $30 cab ride away, making my chances of leaving slim to hitchhiking. We pre-gamed in a hotel room, where my date doted on me. And by “doted,” I mean basically poured booze down my throat. I even started pouring drinks down the drain out of fear of being too drunk around strangers. (Go me!)

We get to the formal and since he planned it, he left me every 5 minutes to “take care of things.” He couldn’t get me a wristband for whatever reason but brought me a flask of vodka (red flag #2). I decided to have a little chat with him about expectations, which was me conveying my disinterest in anything but “cutesy dancing” and eating and drinking. As well as I thought that went, when we got to the dance floor it was obvious that “cutesy dancing” did not register on his radar, or that maybe he thought grinding me against a wall was cute.

He later asked me to accompany him to the hotel room, and I politely declined (and threw up in my mouth a little bit). Looking defeated, he hugged me (an attempt to lure me into his bed, I presume) and ended up giving me a nice cigarette burn in the process. Once that wound is gone, I hope to completely forget that formal, but I know that little round scar with be a lifelong reminder to never return to another formal again.

But even though I was scarred for life (literally), there is some good to come from this. Namely, the lessons I will pass onto you:

Lesson 1: Your best bet is to bring a “friend”

Unless you are hooking up with someone, bring a friend and set the terms before you go. “Wanna be my date to formal, you know, go as just friends?” Formals are like the older, slutty cousin of Prom; they can be a fantastic dance party extravaganza, or the longest, most awkward night of your life if you do not properly set the terms with your date.

Lesson 2: Though the drinks will be flowing, be classy

Some of the most fun formals will be hosted by fraternities that can get away with having an open bar and tons of minors. Not coincidentally, some of my most embarrassing moments in life have occurred at or after these events. No matter how good the song is, avoid break dancing, doing a split, or really any type of dance-off – you will be photographed…and tagged. Don’t skip the food to have more time and room to drink – it has never ended well for me or any sloptart I have seen do it.

Lesson 3: Hooking up with your date’s “brother” has consequences

I had a friendship ruined because of a guy bringing me as a potential hookup when I thought we were friends, and me blatantly “mingling” with his brother in front of his face. Oops! Thanks, ice luge. Chances are, if you end up with another brother and are hoping it remains a secret, it definitely won’t. Frat boys are just as gossipy as your average girl and even use their chapter email servers to send embarrassing or funny (or “fratty”) emails to and the all the bros. The truth will come out!

Lesson 4: Bring a Water Bottle

Those long bus or cab rides back are brutal after 6 hours of open bar heaven. Come prepared. Most bus companies charge $500 or more if someone hurls on the seats, and one wrong splash could get you blacklisted from fraternity events for.e.verrrrr.

That’s all for now – I am officially formal jaded!

A wave of humid, stale air hits you the minute you step inside. You feel your hair instantly frizzing up. But the room is dark and every girl in there is suffering from the frizzies, so you pull it back, grab a few cans of (crappy) beer from yet another muscley frat boy and get your party on.

You’re dancing, sweating, having a good time when it hits you: you have to pee. And not just a little bit. A lot a bit.
As in, one more bump and grind and it will be dripping down your leg. You grab your friend, pull her close and scream into her ear, “BATHROOM!??” The music is so loud, though, she can’t hear you.

“WHAT?!” She mouths as she gets low, low, low, with a guy with giant pit stains. You try screaming again, but it’s no use. So you break out the gestures, pointing to your bladder then pointing in the direction of the stairs. She finally gets it, leaves her perspiring prince behind and joins you in the hunt for a clean-ish bathroom.

You climb the stairs, passing couples making out along the way. As you near the top you see a long string of girls lining the hallway. Obviously, this is the line for the bathroom. And obviously, you have no choice but to wait in it (because, unlike those boys, you can’t just head outside and empty your bladder into a bush).

The line moves slowly, giving you and your friend some time to reflect on the not-so-hottie she was getting dirty with on the dance floor. And the trashy girls coming out of the bathroom. And how drunk you are. And how if you wait one more second you are going to pee on your skirt.

Finally, it’s your turn. You and your friend run into the bathroom and lock the door behind you. Your friend holds your purse and fixes her hair as you attempt to hover over the seat-less bowl. You pray to the gods above that your legs don’t give out; who knows what sort of diseases lurk in the stains that litter the bowl. Thinking about it makes you throw up in your mouth a little, so you focus on the task at hand:

Hovering.

As you squat and release the 6 cans of beer you’ve consumed since entering this sweatbox you begin scanning the room for toilet paper. You see a couple Playboys, some condom wrappers, a notebook and a book of matches, but not one roll of TP. Anywhere. Your friend starts opening cabinets and drawers.

“There’s shaving cream, a bottle of lube and – ew! – a pair of dirty boxers, but no toilet paper,” she reports.

You weigh your options:
1. Drip dry. Ew, gross.
2. Notebook paper?
3. Drip dry. Ok, maybe not so gross.
4. Crumpled up magazine paper?
5. Drip drying may be the only option.
6. How many diseases could there really be in that pair of boxers?
7. Oh eff, I’m gonna have to drip dry.

You do a little shimmy shake, stand up and quickly pull up your undies. You no longer feel like you have to pee down your leg; instead you feel like you already did. You do a mini waddle to the sink, rinse your hands (because, obvi, there is no soap), grab your purse and exit the bathroom.

Yeah, we’ve all been there. You are not the first girl to contemplate the notebook paper, and definitely not the last to leave the bathroom with a little pee pee in your panties.

Well, 2009 doesn’t just mean cool cars and advanced cellphone technology. It also means new and improved products for the potty.  Take a look at some of these new things that make the bathroom experience that much more pleasant. Don’t ask me why or how I found these. Seriously.

Poof
This latest product does exactly what it says. It literally makes the smell of your poop go “Poof!” This liquid deodorizer traps the odors of the big brown boys in the water, releasing a refreshing scent of Japanese mint to fill the air. Unlike an air freshener that can just leave the bathroom smelling like misty grossness (fresh spring breeze + poop = fresh and springy poop), Poof traps the odors before they can even try to escape the toilet. No more worries about having to hold it in after your hot date at a Mexican restaurant.

Go girl
Whoever said guys are the only ones that can stand when going to the bathroom? Just because they get to avoid the unsanitary toilet seats that get exposed to way too many butts in a day, doesn’t mean we can’t too!

iCarta
Okay, so this one may be a tad bit unnecessary, but it sure is freakin’ cool. It’s a toilet paper dispenser with a built in iPod dock and speakers. Because pooping is so much more fun when you’re doin’ it with the Kings of Leon.

LavNav
If you’re like me, even the slightest light can wake you up and keep you up. Especially when that light comes from the bathroom when you have to do a little pee pee in the middle of the night. But you know from experience that attempting to take a middle-of-the-night bathroom trip sans lights only leads to wet floors and a giant bump on your head.  Welcome the LavNav. This automatic light turns on when you approach the toilet in the dark, and turns off after you leave, lighting up only the areas you need. Best part is, this energy efficient product uses really cool red and green light. It’s like a disco toilet.

Other fun idea: bring your laptop. There is some sort of sick pleasure that comes from IMing your friends from the bathroom stall. What, just me?

Your boxes are unpacked, your bed is made, and your parents have left the building. You are officially a college student.

Woohoo! No more living under their rules. You are a free adult livin’ the dorm life.

It takes a few days of getting used to, but you’re finally feeling settled. You’ve even sorta mastered the cafeteria slop. This whole college thing isn’t so hard after all.

That is, until you need to do a little #2 in the public bathroom down the hall. The one every other girl on the hall also frequents to shower, wash up, dry her hair, and do her business. Girls you don’t know. Girls you want to befriend. Feeling the stage fright, you’ve been unable to go for days and, between the cafeteria salad bar (roughage!) and the frat party jungle juice, it’s been rather difficult.

But now it’s time and you have no choice but to suck it up, drop the pants, and take care of business.

The feeling hits you fast. You drop everything you are doing (read: log off of Facebook) and do a little walk/run to the bathroom. You fumble with your keys as you unlock the door, then quickly pull it closed it behind you. You listen for anyone in the shower. You can hear some water running, so you scurry into a stall before anyone can see your face. After safely securing your door, you crouch down to see if any of the other stalls are in use. Thankfully, you are alone.

You turn to the toilet and notice some splash on the seat. You bend down and get in close to determine if it is some inconsiderate squatter’s pee, or maybe a little splash back from the toilet. Regardless of what it is, you are going to have to wipe it up before you let your precious cheeks hit the seat.

You grab a giant handful of toilet paper and wad it up, creating a thick barrier between your hand and the toilet seat. Then, gagging and turning your face away from the situation, you quickly wipe the seat, toss the paper in the toilet and flush it with your foot.

Phew. Now you’re ready.

You sit down and mentally prepare for your first public poop when you hear the door open and a few girls walk in.

“OhMyGod,” you think to yourself. “I can’t go with these girls in here! What if I make loud noises? What if I make the bathroom smell? They may see me or recognize my leopard print slippers! It’s social suicide.”  You contemplate sitting silently until they leave, but it seems they are doing the same thing. Besides, after 10 days of zero bowel activity, holding out is really not an option. So you go with plan B: distraction.

You begin coughing, tapping your foot, and rolling and unrolling the toilet paper – anything to cover the sounds of what is happening in stall #3. Though it’s not the ideal sitch (and it’s nearly impossible to do your business and cough at the same time), you do manage to complete your task in a timely fashion without any embarrassing sounds or smells (well, really offensive ones, anyway), and even sneak out of the bathroom before anyone in the neighboring stalls can see your face. Success.

Yeah, we’ve all been there and it’s awkward. But if there’s anything we learned it’s that Everybody Poops, so don’t be afraid. By the end of the semester, you’ll be taking magazines, books and even your laptop in there with you and chatting with the girl next door. You may even wonder how you ever did it alone.

[Every week, CC and John bring you some of the weirdest, funniest, saddest things he hears on his college campus. Join the Overheard revolution!Leave your own overheard convos in the comments or send ‘em over!]

(A crazy guy on campus trying to sell joke books.)

Crazy guy: Does college make you want to sh*t your pants?

Scared freshman: Um … no?

(A professor, reminiscing in-class.)

Professor: I just, you know, kinda grab nearby papers sometimes. I have many squirrel-like tendencies. That’s what my mom said.

(Girl, angry, on the phone.)

Girl: … because you’ve got the personality of a tennis ball! A tennis ball with acne!

(Girl, complaining to her friends.)

Girl: I mean… okay, how often do two sorority chicks turn into one Asian guy named Steve?

(Students reading papers.)

Guy 1: Oh, cool. Campus Cargo Cults for Christ. Check it out.

Guy 2: Oh, woah! Seriously?

Guy 1: No, dumbass.

Guy 2 (crestfallen): Oh. Too bad.

(Girl, poking her head out of a bathroom door)

Girl: Hey! Does anyone want to join me in the bathroom?

(Professor and students in a class.)

Professor: Are you going to be taking a seat?

Guy (leaning on windowsill): Nah, I think I’m fine here.

Professor: Okay. You know, you’re going to do great things.

(Guy, at a birthday party.)

Birthday Guy: I can’t believe I’m 23. It’s like, this … this pudding, right here, with a cookie in it. That’s 23. Cookie pudding.

(Two guys on an apartment balcony.)

Guy: It’s true. Watch this. (Yelling.) I JUST JIZZED ON A BOAT! (Turns back to friend.) See? I’m totally safe.

(A woman, on the phone in the parking lot.)

Woman: I don’t want my neighbors to think I’m creepy. All I do is sit in my car and smoke boys up.

(Girl and guy, yelling in a noisy gym.)

Girl: Woman climbers usually use their legs more, since they don’t have the same arm strength.

Guy: Yeah. Oh, I get it. You guys always need to be tied up.

Girl: Excuse me?

Guy: Sorry, I’m not sure what you said.

(Two guys, walking through campus.)

Guy 1: You eating anything exciting tonight?

Guy 2: Nah, you know. I’m gonna wrestle a manatee.