While shopping at the mall with friends last weekend, my breakfast of Kashi Go Lean Crunch! came back to haunt me. And by “me,” I mean “everyone within a 10 foot radius.” Yeah, it’s true – I had a horrible case of the farts. So bad that I couldn’t even stand myself. I tried to hold it in – really, really hard – but they just kept coming and it was impossible for me to walk around a giant mall with my ass cheeks clenched together.

So I did what any normal woman would do: I walked away from my friends and left some smelly bombs in store corners and mall walkways. Poor shoppers didn’t know what was coming.

The entire ordeal was mortifying (especially when the guy bringing my shoes walked through an exceptionally offensive gas cloud and got a very sour look on his face) and could have been completely avoided had someone informed me about these special panties. Now, I am not one for granny panties (especially of the Hefty variety), but a pair of panties that could mask my gas?

Where do I sign up?

I’m not sure how they work, but as long as they don’t create a virtual dutch oven in my pants thus releasing the foul odor of a day’s worth of farts and knocking me out the moment I take them off, I don’t really care.  The mere thought of enjoying a fiberous breakfast and then flatulating all day without anyone knowing (I’m a master of the SBD) is enough to lure me in.

The Walk of Shame is awkward. End of story.

Even if you are trolling through a college town filled with kids who fully support and expect it, walking home with last night’s hair, makeup and footwear is never your proudest moment (though mastering the Wheelbarrow drunk the night before came pretty close).

Unfortunately, for many college coeds, the Walk of Shame is inevitable, especially when you combine Dollar Pitcher night at the local bar and a whole lot of good looking boys. But just because you are walking home from some dude’s house early in the morning doesn’t mean you have to look that way.

I am a strong believer in preparing for everything, and the Walk of Shame is no exception. Pack a few things before you go and no one will have any idea where you were last night.

First things first, avoid that “going out bag” and opt for something bigger. You probably already have one, but in case you want an excuse to buy something new, I love this new Tycoon Dome Satchel from Juicy. Cute enough for a night on the town, but big enough to pack all of the essentials.

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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.

Society has been telling us for years that the sexiest thing to sport under just about anything is a thong. But what do guys really think? What do they really want to see when they shimmy that girl out of her newest pair of skinnies? Or, do they even really care? I mean…they got our pants off. Isn’t that enough?

He Said:

Guys don’t really know much about women’s underwear past “This type gives me a boner, that type doesn’t.” When you’re in high school (or from Long Island), thongs are the best thing this side of Steak and a Blow Job Day–mainly because the tops of thongs usually pop up above girls’ pants, drawing our eyes and attention directly to the butt part of the body, flooding our imaginations with arrest-worthy thoughts.

Still, some (adult) dudes will tell you they like the thong best–on certain girls. But nowadays, it’s all about the boy-shorts. These fantastic bottoms create a magical under-ass area that does wonders for a man’s mood–if you’re depressed, just ask your girl to throw on a pair, you’ll see what I mean. They look good on girls of all shapes and sizes, are nice to touch when we’re fooling around, and are perfect attire for the WiiFit. Ladies, if you only have one type of underwear (which you don’t), make it boy-shorts–we’ll never complain. Read More »

Fresh off the teetering heels of Miss New Jersey’s photo scandal comes another. This time the photos are allegedly not so PG. And who would expect less from LiLo?

According to a “real” Gchat between Lohan and a celebslam.com owner, the photos were stolen from her computer by a hacker who left a file on her desktop letting her know of his dirty deed. The pre-rehab pics are naked photos of Lindsay taken by ex-boy Calum Best.

In the Gchat, she warns CelebSlam editor Nick that her lawyers have already been notified of the missing pics. Nick notes at the bottom of the chat that Lohan’s Gmail address is real and is not the email address released to the public earlier in the year.

I’m not sure why Lindsay is so heated about the pics; doesn’t she remember America seeing her Poonan when the paps snapped her photo sans undies? It’s really nothing we haven’t seen before.

But to the hacker who stole the pics, I say thanks. Not that I want to see Lindsay’s lady bits again, but celebrity news has gotten a little boring since LiLo got sober. Read More »