When teachers allow computers in the classroom I have to wonder: what do they think we’re doing behind these screens? Taking notes? Absolutely not. It’s more likely you will find me Facebooking or taking part in another form of procrastination that will lead to my ultimate academic demise.

But at least I’ll go down laughing.

I’ve spent many an hour wasting time on the interwebs and let me tell you, there is a lot out there that can come between you and your GPA. Need to entertain yourself during a 3-hour lecture? Here are a few of my favorite procrastination sites. Read More »

Love ‘em or hate em, no one can deny that we are surrounded by the hipster generation these days. We are living and breathing in the second-hand smoke of Parliament Lights everywhere we go.  I have spent some time observing them in their natural habitat (dark basements and dive bars in Brooklyn and the entire campus of Virginia Commonwealth University) and have seen the light.

Hipsters really aren’t that bad. In fact, I kind of like them and the wonderful changes they’ve made to our world:

Jeans: Dear Hipsters, Thank you for putting the kibash on baggy jeans. If I had to see one more pair of Tweety Bird boxers muffin-topping out of a sagging mess of denim, I would have gouged my eyes out. And while I may be slightly envious of your lean legs, that’s my own burden to bear. Rock on, skinny-legged hipster. If you got it, flaunt it.

The Polaroid Camera: Yes the Polaroid camera is coming back! And I’d like to thank, in part, the hipster generation. There’s nothing hipsters love more than the instant gratification of seeing themselves in all their avant-garde glory on film. But hey, don’t we all? Otherwise, websites like this would never survive. Read More »

Pregnant woman gets pregnant AGAIN.

Um. I have no words. This is disgusting.

The army gets its  first female drill sergeant!

Wait. Which Kardashian is getting married?!

Cray cray Kelly Bensimon will be taking it all off for Playboy.

Hipsters will save the economy (or at least PBR).

I want to propose the unthinkable:

I think hipsters are kind of OK.

Now, stay with me here.
Many, many people disagree – even some here at CollegeCandy – but if you can look past the obvious (like the mustaches and the outline of the boys’ genitalia through their super tight denim), I think our friends in Bushwick and the ‘Burg have some redeeming qualities. Below, I present a list of their good points:

1. Sometimes their clothes aren’t ridiculous: Just about everyone looks good in a v-neck tee, even if it’s not from American Apparel (sorry, Dov). And skinny jeans and Chuck Taylors may also be hipster mainstays, but let’s not forget, these have been the mark of style for a long time. (Yes, long before some people were rockin’ them out with Wayfarers and fedoras.)  Rock stars wouldn’t be sexy if their jeans weren’t so damn tight and Chucks are comfy with a 40-year history of cool. Everyone from Snoop Dogg to Sylvester Stallone has worn these kicks, and your plaid-clad friends aren’t going to stop now. Neither should you. Read More »

If you love America as much as we do (and you should, or else you’ll have to answer to Stephen Colbert), then you’re excited for the Fourth of July and all the awesome things it brings: a break from work, a sizzling barbecue, and quality time spent with family and friends (or just friends, if you’re not too keen on family reunions).

Don’t worry about how you’re going to stomach all those hot dogs and hamburgers without a “reversal of fortune;” just prepare your body and mind before you start packing away the pounds and six-packs. I know that I’ll be eating twice my own body weight this weekend in order to get over Kevin Jonas being off the market. Well, at least there are two JoBros left! But we may need a bigger bed if we want a chance with either of them (psh, purity rings don’t stand a chance against a girl on a mission – although open-mindedness is not a bad thing, either).

Speaking of celebs, what a crazy week it’s been for them and their adoring fans! Having to dispel rumors about their own deaths can’t be too fun. Hopefully, the coming week will bring with it some things to smile about (and really smile about) in spite of all the bad news we’ve been hearing. The recession is still laying into universities’ budgets and leaving college grads lost in the job search (or just literally lost); but we’ve heard that if you try sometimes, you can get the advice you need to make it in the world.

However, this week still leaves us with one burning question that we have yet to find the answer to: what’s with hipsters and PBR?

There’s a new plague making its way across college campuses from coast to coast. Take one step into your local incorporated coffee shop, vegan restaurant, Urban Outfitters or American Apparel store and you will be afflicted. (Or blinded by all the neon spandex and overwhelming scent of cigarettes.)

I’m talking, of course, about hipsters.

Don’t know what I’m talking about? Don’t worry’ they’ve even got a Wikipedia page.

I don’t truly despise these people. In fact, some are my dear friends. However, the ones that aren’t my friends are becoming an issue – a taking-all-the-tables-at-my-favorite-coffee-shop issue – and here’s my top 10 reasons that they piss me off. Obviously, not all apply. And obviously there are many, many more.

1. OHMYGOD just because I don’t wear weird clothes doesn’t mean I don’t like good music, too.
Hipsters pride themselves on liking the most unique, underground indie music. And if they like something outside that realm? Well, they like it “ironically.” In fact, I’m pretty sure their entire subculture is based on irony. (Editor’s Note: Maybe Alanis Morisette started the hipster movement?!) They automatically assume if someone is in a polo shirt that their music taste only expands as far as Dave Matthews and OAR. WRONG. Not everyone wears their music taste on their American Apparel sleeves. Get. Real. Check my last.fm; I listen to just as much Arcade Fire as you do and my mom was at Pavement concerts when you were in diapers. Read More »

I’m starting to get sick of the bars but I’m not sick of going out so I jumped at the chance to go to a house party on Saturday.

I used to go to them all the time freshman year. We would wander the streets and walk into any house with music playing in hopes that it would be a raging party. 78% of the time it was a couple of seniors sitting around who charged us $10 to share 4 Natty Lights between 8 of us. But once in a while it would be a real house party with music blasting and a basement full of strangers.

Sophomore year I got my fake ID, eventually upgraded to a real ID and began spending my nights out going to the bars. I average 1.5 house parties a year now and they’ve become almost mythological in my mind. While my roommates put on tiny dresses and heels for the bars, I acted like “house party” was a really fun theme party. I threw on a grungy gym t-shirt that totally clashed with my sneakers. I debrushed my hair, and smeared make-up on only parts of my face. My friend who had actually been invited to the party told me I was being offensive; I claimed offensive often gets confused with enthusiasm.

In an effort to save money and be super thrifty I made a vodka-oj water bottle and headed out with my dredded-head held high. We arrived at the party and the sophomore bouncers at the door charged us $4 because there was a live band and unlimited beer. My friends grumbled at the price and discussed just going to the bars. But my outfit said house party and there was no way I was going to give up my dream of a sikk movie-like house party (also I paid less since I had my own drink). Read More »

Living in New York City is great. And I mean that. I’ve been here for the last six or seven years, and before that I lived in nearby Long Island (with frequent visits into Brooklyn, Queens, the Bronx, and Staten Island to visit my family, and sometimes Manhattan to take in a show or go to a museum).

The problem is not living in New York City. The problem is living in New York City AND being a girl.

For some reason, this is THE city of catcalls and bad pick-up lines. It doesn’t matter what you look like, who you are–if you have (or even might have) a hooha, you’re gonna be harassed.

So now, for your reading pleasure, I’d like to present you with a scene from last night in My Life As A Girl In NYC.

This is verbatim. I kid you not.

Enjoy.

(10pm Thursday night. After four hours of tech rehearsal at a local theater, SARA, 23, heads up to Union Square, where she sits down on the steps to wait for her BOYFRIEND, 26.

To Sara’s left sit two HIPSTERS. Sara casually witnesses a seemingly NEW JERSEY GUY in a douchey leather jacket ask them for a cigarette.

Sara goes back to waiting. But something is wrong. Sensing this, she turns around to find Jersey Guy and his two JERSEY FRIENDS staring at her. And Jersey Guy is pointing right at her. Sara quickly turns back around.

But it’s too late. Jersey Guy approaches, unlit cigarette in hand.)

JERSEY GUY: I just wanted to say thanks for looking all pretty. Read More »

It’s the final sign that the Apocalypse is here–Winehouse and Doherty

I tend to only date guys with a nice set of Moobs

Happy Bea-Day, Bea Arthur!

Jane Doe rape kits are officially on the books

Man’s Best Friend is really looking out for you

Most days, I wish I went to Harvard.

I am so over hipsters–and now N.E.R.D.

One day, I hope to be pretty like Chase Crawford

Yay, another installment of Why I’ll Never Date Spencer Pratt

How is The Real Word even relevant anymore?

Blood Tree – Mary Timony. Everybody dates a jerk or two. Rock stars, however, get to humiliate them publicly. Mary uses this song to recite the many ills of her ex. There are, of course, the usual problems – too many drugs, hitting on other girls, lame friends – but nothing compares to the kicker: a topless picture of his ex, which he showed her, for reasons known only to himself. Consider the fact that Timony has confirmed that this incident actually occurred. Then consider the fact that even the best of us hook a few freak shows. Then feel better. Then dump your guy.

Sheela-na-Gig – PJ Harvey. PJ tries to make sexy time with her gentleman caller. He turns her down flat. This leads to the most glorious song in the history of angry lady rock. Anyone who can work “dirty pillows,” “childbearing hips” and South Pacific into a single lyric deserves some kind of lifetime achievement award. Also, a boyfriend who will put out. Read More »