Sorority house. Not whore house.

As college students, we are constantly inundated with new knowledge. It can be useful, thought-provoking, or crammed into our head on a Starbucks-fueled binge several hours before an exam. However, very rarely do we question the validity of all this new knowledge (unless you take philosophy classes, then you’ll question away).

That’s where College Candy comes in. We’re not going to debate whether or not the Theory of Relativity actually exists (a disappointment, I know, but I’m a communications major and stopped taking science classes after Baby Bio fresh year). However, we are here to thoroughly investigate the most widespread college knowledge (no, not rhyming)—the myth.

Recently, a good friend of mine came to visit me at escuela. When she got here, we screamed and squealed and moved all of her bags upstairs into my room. We chatted and caught up for a while, before I offered to give her a tour of my place.

I adore giving house tours, because the place where I live is so much more than my home—it’s my sorority house. I love showing friends and family all the beautiful details of our old Southern mansion, pointing out hidden symbols and telling the histories behind everything that decorates the house.  My guests are usually very interested and complimentary, so I was kind of bummed when I realized my bestie was being super quiet (and not in the “I’m-so-jealous-you-don’t-have-to-cook-or-clean” kind of way). Read More »

Wendy’s Burger for a quarter? NOT!

Paris buys a brothel…surprise surprise

Becks and Posh are leaving us…but they’re coming back! PROMISE!

Move over, Palin! Obama’s taking over Saturday night!

Zac + Johnny= hotttt pirates!

Janet’s not making ends meet?

Audrina in a dunk tank. ’nuff said.

Some candy for the men…Angelina’s boobies!

What is with the Hogan parents dating people that look like their children?!

Aunt Becky’s boobies are timeless…

Mistrial shmistrial – Brit Brit’s lookin gooood

Being single for a while can make a girl think that hoping over a few states to visit an all-male brothel would be an awesome way to spend spring break.

Heidi Fleiss, the “Hollywood Madam” who’s had her share of legal woes and national media attention, is in the process of opening her new “Stud Farm” brothel in Nevada, a place purely for women and their fantasies.

“This establishment will hire men to service women” StudFarm’s website claims. “There will be no male to male sexual services offered.”

“We will hire 20 men and 10 on stand-by,” continues the information. “Lady customers will be charged $250.00 an hour that will be split 50-50 to the house. Men will be able to keep all tips. They will be charged a weekly rate for a housekeeper, room, board, and food. Weekly tests for STDS and HIV are mandatory. Employees will register for a work card with the sheriff’s department.” Read More »

Days as a Freshman: 28

Current Mood: Anticipating

“So, are you going to the dance tonight?”

Naima leaned against the soda machine, her arms sagging underneath two giant boxes. Crystal and I were waiting with her in the mail line. Neither of us had anything to send out; it was mostly a moral support thing. No one liked to wait in the mail line alone. No matter what time of day you went, it was always the longest line in history.

“I’m not sure. Those things always end up sucking.” Crystal reached out to take one of Naima’s boxes, but Naima pulled away.

“I got it, honey.” She said reassuringly. “Your girl’s a bodybuilder!”

Letting out her signature laugh, Naima hitched the boxes up higher in her arms and completely ignored the people turning around to see where the noise was coming from.

Naima was another freshman Crystal and I had met in our unholy Statistics class. Unlike us, she was completely unafraid of asking questions, and more we got to know her, the more she seemed to be completely unafraid of anything. Read More »