Realizing that a bad hangover has NOTHING on food poisoning

WARNING: the following content may be extremely graphic, especially if you’re one of those guys that don’t believe that humans of the female variety poop. I mean they just don’t. We are perfectly beautiful, gorgeous, and ethereal creatures that don’t even emit stinky vapors let alone excrement. Keep thinking that and stop reading.

For the women, the realists, and the biologists who insist that all living organisms need to emit their waste in order to survive, you can continue to read this post because this weekend I experienced the WORST curse on my digestive system that I have EVER experienced in my twentysomething years.

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Those familiar with the college life are probably also familiar with the bad hangover. Feeling dehydrated, nauseous, and weak may have been an every Sunday occurrence after a weekend of cheap Barton shots and boxed Franzia. I’ve had my share and boy do I know what a bad hangover feels like. Forgetting to eat dinner and stay hydrated with water on the weekends before downing a few whiskey gingers have become habitual. So has waking up the next morning, refusing to get out of bed, and claiming that “I am NEVER going to drink AGAIN”. I usually feel and look like I’ve been hit by a bus.

However, this weekend, I probably looked like that same bus reversed back over me and hit me again. After a now regretful egg salad sandwich, I experienced food poisoning over which I would take a bad hangover any day of the week. Literally, my bowels are turning just talking about it, but I need to get this in writing so that when I experience my next bad and inevitable hangover, I can read this and thank my lucky stomach that I don’t have food poisoning.

Sweet Jesus it was absolutely God awful.

After eating the egg salad at about 3:30pm on Satuday, I was struck with calm, maybe feeling a bit bloated, but nothing out of the ordinary. Twelve hours later, I was puking on a sidewalk, but I chalked it up to the bumpy Boston cab rides that trigger my motion sickness. Confident that I had absolutely NOTHING in my system, I went to bed just feeling nauseous.

I wake up at 8am with an intense pain that felt like I was being impaled with a red hot poker. My eyes are literally watering from the pain and I run to the bathroom to puke. Realizing I don’t need to puke and probably have a case of the DADS (Day After Drinking Shits) I decide to poop. Talk about opening Pandora’s box. And I thought I had nothing in me.

I try going back to bed, but trips to the bathroom kept me awake until around 11am when I decide to give up. I get dressed, brush my teeth and as soon as the toothpaste hits my tongue I vomit again.


“Must be a hangover” I tell myself, until I’m sitting in the living room waiting to go into work and remembering that my roommate who also ate the egg salad was complaining about a stomach ache. Well I guess I better call in today, because if it’s food poisoning my hour commute might end exorcist style. I have experienced the after morning sickness of a hangover, however, the best part about puking from alcohol is feeling the weight of nausea being lifted after you pull the trigger. With food poisoning, that relief never comes and you’re subject to stomach cramp after stomach cramp that never ends no matter how much you pray and promise that you’ll be a better person if only this nasty experience would just end.

There is nothing more humiliating than having to shit and puke at the same time, and I feel SO MUCH SYMPATHY for those that have ever experienced suck an AWFUL trial.

With my roommates Goggling my symptoms and what I should be eating, it’s decided that I have food poisoning and I should go grab some Gatorade for the electrolytes that my body is so violently getting rid of. I decide to go to the convenient store right across the street for some Powerade Zero and after being gone no longer than 5 mins, I come back out of breath and practically stumbling for my composure. I’m a ridiculous mess. I take a few sips, take a Tums for my stomach acid, and immediately puke it up. Great.

By the end of the night, my throat is dry, I am starving, and my ass literally hurts.  I’ll never again complain about being hungover, ever.

NYE with Beer and Feminism and Twenty Something What is My Life

I’ve been dreaming of this moment: a co-post with my fellow Binghamton drunkie A.Merc at Beer and Feminism.




My girl T.Ko over at Twenty Something What Is My Life is not only my favorite gorgeous lotus flower, but she’s also a seasoned Binghamton drinker which means the two of us know how to get drunk in sub-zero temperatures.

So, naturally, we would spend NYE together, and naturally we would go to some bougy Manhattan catering hall (Gotham Lounge) and naturally we would blog about it.

T.Ko and I, while obviously soulmates (tonight T.Ko will be an ethereal Asian angel wearing all white with soft gorgeous curls while I will be in a devilish black sequined pantsuit rocking a mohawk), have different expectations for what will go down on the final night of 2013.

Here are our own expectations, with the other’s dose of reality (i.e. T.Ko has already shot down my desire to find and bone a New York Ranger).

A.Merc’s Expectation: I will find and make-out with at least two boys and one girl throughout the night. They all will be at least eights on a scale of one to panty dropping.

T.Ko‘s Reality: A.Merc is clearly underestimating herself, I mean the girl is going out in a fucking pantsuit and mohawk. You’re welcome for finding that in the upturned racks at Urban Outfitters BTW. At least two boys in the first hour and half and another two after midnight. One girl is playing it safe. What she doesn’t realize is that drunk girls (especially drunk girls on New Years Eve) are all just playing a big game of monkey see monkey do—one girl sees her friend making out with a fellow vagina and the next thing you know it’s a giant tonsil hockey orgy.

T.Ko’s Expectation: While unsuccessful in the year 2013, T.Ko will ring in 2014 by finding the perfect balance of slightly tipsy and destroyingly hammered. She’s learned from her 2013 experiences, where a night out drinking will either turn into mothering one of her three roommates into bed at 2 a.m. or throwing up on the side of the street at 3:30 a.m and passing out on the couch while the room is spinning.

A.Merc’s Reality: T.Ko will ring in 2014 rip-roaringly drunk, partially because she will not have yet discovered her alcoholic sweet spot and partially because I will be ramming drinks down her throat the entire night to make the insane amount of money we are spending sting a smidge less. Hopefully she will be my puking partner in crime and we can decorate the LIRR car with our multi-colored vomit.

A.Merc’s Expectation:I will spend the entire night in my fantastic shoes, dancing like Britney Spears and not feeling any pain in my toes whatsoever. I will not take my shoes off.

T.Ko’s Reality: T.Ko is surprised that after all her time in Binghamton she has never heard a Long Island girl have a raging bitch fest over something only mildly dramatic like hurt toes. Tonight that’s gonna change. It will all start an hour into dancing at Gotham, where Alyssa cannot fight the temptation to twerk, work, and dance her pierced tits off. All that dancing will pay a heavy price, not only on her feet, but on my ears and patience. I will mutter death threats under my breath the entire night.

T.Ko’s Expectation: I guarantee I will meet one guy tonight that will consider me the ideal woman, want to wife me up, and spend the entire night following me around. That’s not me being cocky (“Or is it?”—A.Merc), I tend to not give off the suck my face vibe, but actually manage to hold intelligent and captivating conversations. No matter how hard I try not to be, I always end up being the girl you want to take home to mom and dad, whether Asians are your thing or not.

A.Merc’s Reality: T.KO is underestimating the power of the Asian persuasion. While I will be making a fool of myself in some darkened corner, T.Ko will most likely be getting proposed to just as the ball drops, in a touching act of love at first sight from some poor soul who mistakes her kindness as an act of love. BTW I want to be maid of honor at the wedding.

Because I Actually LOVE the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show

I swear, I like men, but today is just another lady boner type of day in the life of this twentysomething. Today is the day that CBS airs the 2013 Victoria’s Secret Fashion show, and I am more than willing to skip watching my weekly dose of Awkward on MTV in order to check out the eye capturing festivities.

I may be putting feminism a few years back, or I may be applauding it. You decide. Whatever the case may be, the show does feature half naked girls walking a 100 foot runway. Yes it’s sexy, but I’d say inspiring as well, and not just in a sense that I’ll feel the need to regurgitate the 200 calorie beer I’ll be enjoying in the hopes of losing a quick 30 pounds to look like Adriana Lima.


It’s inspiring because the show is just so over the top that it’s actually amazing. What other fashion show features anything even remotely similar to the Victoria’s Secret Fashion show?

Yes, you may be thinking, “This is ridiculous, making the models walk around with giant feathers attached to their underwear.” Are you aware that this is a fashion show?? What high end fashion show doesn’t go above and beyond what normal people would wear out in public? This exhibition happens once a year, and not just so designers (Yes, people actually DESIGN underwear) can show you your average bra and panty set in nude. It’s creative, it’s different, it’s their ART. For example, this year Lindsay Ellingson is wearing the world’s first 3D printed lingerie, which may as well be the first 3D printed clothing ever created.

Lindsay Ellingson(1)

The show is also entertaining, and not because it supposedly resembles soft porn. While the models might be wearing less clothes on this particular job, they certainly get to show more personality. This is in stark comparison to the Kristen Stewart face seen on most runways.


The models actually look like they are having the time of their lives and even get to interact with the performers on the runway, which this year will include Fall Out Boy, Taylor Swift, and Neon Jungle.

Which brings me to another point. The show, the sets, the performers; all other reasons to watch the show besides skinny women parading in underwear. I would really like to single out the awesome performances at the show by specifically citing Bruno Mars’ “Locked Out of Heaven” in the 2012 Victoria’s Secret Fashion show. Did the fact that there were models walking the stage while he was singing make appreciating his performance more difficult for me as a woman? Nope. It was epic, and if you don’t believe me, watch for yourself.

Lastly, the female frustration over the show really, in my opinion, needs to stop. Women regularly complain about Victoria’s Secret for first, selling overpriced merchandise and second, using skinny models to market it. First, I rarely hear women bemoan the existent of other higher end stores that sell things that can be found in a WalMart or Kohl’s like they do Victoria’s Secret. Second, women everywhere spend hours putting on make up or high heels, picking the perfect outfits, and dieting or working out. We do this to attract attention and be seen. The Angels are just better at it than we are. Admit it and stop being bitter.

So here’s my appeal: Stop hating the models because they are hot, stop hating the designers for their preference in designing undergarments, stop hating Victoria’s Secret for being the top selling brand for lingerie, bras, underwear and clothes that we do actually buy, and stop hating the fashion show for being… I don’t know… creative, different, and popular?





#WCW: Jenny MacArthur

For the third time in the history of my blog, I’m going to use the word “boner”. Even more odd, I’m going to use the term “lady boner” because today is Wednesday. For all who follow social media, this day of the week is peppered with Instagramed photos of hot women on our multiple news feeds with the all now familiar #WCW in the comments.

I’m sorry Jennifer Lawrence, but my heart and lady boner belongs to another foul mouthed, brutally blunt, and exceptionally attractive Jennifer. Her name is Jenny MacArthur from the popular FX television show The League.

So I realize this is a stretch for many people. Some of you are probably wondering, “Who the hell is Jenny MacArthur?” Those unfamiliar with the show will probably not know who this goddess is, since the actress that has brought this mystical nymph to life, Katie Aselton, doesn’t have that long of a filmography to her name.

But don’t stop reading just yet! Let me explain the multiple reasons why I have a lady crush on this crazy, fantasy football focused, housewife.

For those unfamiliar with the show, let me give you a quick summary of the show and it’s main centerpoint:

Fantasy Football.

Okay, now that we covered the basics here are the reasons Jenny MacArthur is the hottest fictional character on television.

  • Sports Knowledge. I don’t care what type of guy you ask the answer might as well be unanimous. When a girl demonstrates her proficiency in sports, she automatically becomes about 30-40% hotter than she was already perceived #Truth. In Season 1, Jenny manages her husband Kevin’s team, without actually having one of her own to manage, as the boys have applied an unspoken “no girl” rule in their fantasy league. We all know now, they were just scared because she would later go on to kick their ass in the championship “known as the Shiva Bowl” and win the coveted Shiva trophy in the latest season. It should also be mentioned, that after she allowed the draft to be held in her hospital room while she delivered her second child, her love of the game cannot be questioned.
  • Determination of a Bull. In Season 2, the boys let Jenny play; however, she inherits a shit hole team from a sexual deviant and misfit who knew nothing about football. But does that stop our Queen? NOPE!


Jenny: Raffi left me with, like, a roster of total crap, and I was thinking that maybe we could just redraft.

The guys: No!

Andre: No, no, no. You’re on your own now. Welcome to the league.

Jenny: All right, I accept the challenge. And I will take this donkey of a team and I’m gonna turn it into a champion, dick cream.


Her competitive attitude is pure sex. I’ll also mention that with this shit team, she made it to the Shiva Bowl. All Hail the Queen.

  • Loving Marriage. One of the things that girls find most attractive in guys is their ability to commit to a loving relationship. If Jenny were a guy, she’s have this hands down. This makes her, in my humble opinion, the hottest housewife and mother on television as well. Even when managing two separate teams that are competing for the same Shiva, her and Kevin support each other. This can be illustrated by their duet smack talk via webcam to the rest of the league members.


Kevin[on webcam with Jenny, the others watching on their respective computers] Season’s greetings, everyone.

Jenny: From Kevin and Jenny.

Kevin: We wanted to take a minute to wish you and your families a happy and healthy holiday season.

Jenny: We have so much to be thankful for.

Kevin: We have a healthy, wonderful daughter.

Jenny: Amazing friend. And did we forget to mention that we are both in the playoffs this season?

Kevin: It seemed to have slipped my mind. Yes, we are so blessed to have not one, but two teams in the playoffs. Most families don’t have any.

Jenny: Andre.

Jenny: And this week’s matchup should be a cakewalk.

Kevin: Yes, you are going to obliterate Peter.

Jenny: And you are going to kill Rodney.

Jenny: So from the first family of fantasy football…

Kevin: …to your family at home…

Kevin and Jenny: Suck it!

Ahhh…. Love in it’s finest. I wouldn’t be lying if I didn’t say I was slightly hopeful that my marriage can be just as supportive, football appreciating, and foul mouth ridden as theirs.

  • She’s a Great Mother. I won’t lie. The thought of having children, let alone GIRL children scares me for a variety of reasons. Jenny and Kevin have two, but the child that has been on the show for it’s entire run is their daughter Ellie. While I’m at a lost with how to handle my potential daughter blossoming into young adulthood, Jenny and Kevin have got this down.


Kevin: I’m not even really convinced this whole piano thing is a good idea. I just want to start her on an activity that ensures she’ll never have sex.

Jenny: Me too.

Kevin: Okay, I still like my idea. I really think we should consider ballet. She can dance around with gay guys, and she won’t have sex ’til she’s, like, 30.

Jenny: Are you kidding me? Everyone wants to have sex with ballerinas. Did you see Black Swan? Ballerinas wanna have sex with ballerinas. I think musical instruments are the way to go, and we should just be thankful it’s not a woodwind.

Good eye Jenny. Good eye.

  • Lastly, Just Look at Her.



THE LEAGUE: Katie Aselton. CR: Jeremy Cowart / FX



If I’ve managed to turn you into a Jenny MacArthur admirer or you’re curious about the show, check out the first 5 seasons of The League in preparation for the sixth season on FX.



To Court or Abort: The Five (and a half) Stages of Courting

While I’ve had my shares of heart break, mistakes, both rational and irrational instincts, spazzes, and successes; I’m self proclaimed as being able to give some stable and sound insight (I’d rather not call it advice just yet) into the world of dating. Ironically, I’m not in any stable relationship at the moment, yet am enjoying being alone for the time being. What is my life?

This post comes in response to a conversation that has lasted over the past few days with a friend of mine. Last week, she had gasped over a surprise text she had received from a male acquaintance of hers expressing his interest in taking her out on a date after they had a brief run in the day before. Within the half hour, a date was set for next Friday at a Venezuelan restaurant. Fantastic; she has a suitor.

A few days later, the conversation came up again as my friend had to explain to her suitor that she had to delay their date on Friday a few hours. As the conversation continues she exclaims, “I just want to be courted!”

But wait, isn’t flirtatious texting and setting up a one on one over empanadas and candles considered courting? The answer is yes. So I took it upon myself to explain the Five and a Half Stages of Courting:

  • Stage Point Five (.5): This stage doesn’t even get a whole number since it could potentially lead to pure friendship as well as happily ever after. I categorize this stage as the communication gates opening and whether they flood or not is up to either parties. This first text can be recognized by the unknown contact number at the top of the screen as well as the text containing the first and last name of the person that you just gave you’re number to. This may or may not be followed up with an “It was great meeting you tonight!” and an emojicon smilie face.


  • Stage One: Stage one is what brought about this whole conversation with my dear friend. Stage One occurs when the courtier suddenly makes his true intentions fully aware. All of a sudden you realize that they find you attractive, and want to set up a date over some Taco Bell (oh wait… that’s just my fantasy isn’t it). Basically it’s when the texting comes from a place of intimate interest and is not just platonic, hence the whole number. Hold on to your seats ladies in case you’re potentially blown away by his stunning good looks, witty quips, and perfect biceps.
  • Stage Two: Stage two marks the commencement of the face-to-face courting and can be identified with the first official date. Instead of hiding behind your phone or Facebook, both of you are finally gazing into each other’s eyes over cheesy gordita crunches (I swear I’m not starving or anything..) All of a sudden there are other factors that you need to take into account. How excited where you before you embarked on this romantic outing? What are you wearing?


Does their breath smell, did they pick up the tab, are they going to hold your hand, and what about that kiss goodnight??! Stage two can bring on all sorts of emotions such as excitement or anxiety, but what it really attempts to bring about is the reality of whether or not you two click.


  • Stage Three: This stage is the post-date communication which is usually more frequent than the pre-date communication if Stage Two went swimmingly well. Commonly used phrases in Stage Three include “I couldn’t stop thinking about you today”, “I can’t wait to see you again”, and “Let’s try ______ next time.” Stage Three typically eludes to a next date and possibly more. Communication, like I said is more frequent, possible daily, and all of a sudden the flirtation meter rockets off the map.
  • Stage Four: Eventually if you like the person it’s bound to happen. Stage Four is when it all gets physical. All of a sudden you’ve added a whole new set of insecurities into your courting. Hopefully things go will in between the sheets so that things can go really well out of them.
  • Stage Five: The last stage is where you might as well be dating, but you haven’t made it official yet. In regards to my last post, he’s your franchise player. You stay over each other’s places on the weekends and maybe even have a toothbrush on their bathroom sink. You have dinner dates AND make out dates. You text flirt the crap out of each other and you’re inching closer and closer to putting on the labels.

That about covers that. You let me know if there are any outstanding questions.

From Court side to Bar Side We’ve Got You Covered

No one can help but refer to dating as a game; a ritual demanding the players to analyze moves, strategize, make plays, and juggle both an offensive and defensive strategy. Coaching can even be involved in the form of noisy, intervening friends and family members. Everyone has their franchise player, the All-Star. The guy that they see at least 4 days out of the week. Just as so, they have their bench players who can be called into the game when the franchise player fails to perform at their potential. The rotation of players never stays the same, some come and go, get traded or retire, but the games continue, the league goes on and everyone has the glint of a possible championship win in their eyes. In most cases, that long awaited for win comes with a ring.

Each player has their play- I mean, dating style. The guy that hits on girls unabashed with his eye rolling pick up lines would be considered an offensive player; perhaps playing the position of forward. He is determined to score; many times on different girls, and after doing so can be seen doing a victory dance or perhaps giving out high fives to his teammates.

Being girls who enjoy watching athletics as well as being in the throws of dating, Danielle and I can’t help but find the resemblance between our love for the game in both meanings of the term. From our observation, many comparisons can be made between the NBA (it’s players and teams) and dating, and we are just weird enough to post our thoughts. What is our lives?

So here we have it. The Roster.

Geek turned chicThe team which I am going to be keeping my eyes on for the 2013-14 NBA season will be the Brooklyn Nets. The 2012-13 season was a struggle for the team both in performance and identity. Like a freshman trying to see where they fit into the big leagues of college, so were the Nets trying to secure a head coach and getting a team together. Well, now they have Jason Kidd and the most promising team to date. 2013-14 should prove to be a fantastic campaign marked with wins and success right? Well possibly, if the team and it’s players perform up to their high expectations. But, as many romantic teenage comedies have proven to us before, no matter how drastic the physical appearance of the gawky introvert is, their true colors always shine through. What they are lacking is chemistry, and what they have an abundance of is age (Current record 3-7).

Commitment Issues. If you’re looking for a guy with problems putting it all in on a relationship, look no further than Derrick Rose. The 2012-13 “will he wont he return after his torn ACL” player is the HARDEST to get a commitment from. Just ask Adidas, who launched “The Return of D Rose” marketing campaign on August 15, 2012. Unfortunately for them, D. Rose didn’t return until October 16, 2013. He’s great at game-planning for the offensive despite his low shooting percentage. But what does Derrick Rose and a true commitment phobe have in common? They command constant defensive action. Now that Rose has committed to the Bulls this season, he’s ready to win. We can only hope that the commitment phobes that we date can do and achieve the same.

The Wing Man. Assisting on the court is much like assisting at the bar. A widely, misunderstood perception is that anyone can be a wing man. If you were to bring out your most introverted, geeky, and self conscious friend who has never even spoken to a person of the opposite sex, let alone scored before; they will not succeed in being your wing man. The player that will be the most successful at assisting you will have to have found success during the game in their own right. This season that player is Chris Paul of the Clippers. Paul currently leads at 12.6 assists per game, as well as demonstrates some “Mister Steal Your Girl” potential, dominating in steals as well.

The Player. This pick couldn’t be easier. The player is the guy everyone takes about. He always scores, beds multiple women, wing mans up the whazoo for his friends, and pisses all over the opportunity to stay loyal to one significant other in order to score with another. In this case, LeBron James is the ultimate Player. In order to score and win, James fleed from Cleveland after seven seasons to score and win big for the Miami Heat in 2010. A two time NBA Championship winner, Finals MVP, and Overall NBA MVP, James has all the accolades, recognition, status, and female fans that would mark him as the Player. Even when the Player decides to commit, he still makes it all about himself. Even non-basketball fans tuned into the ESPN special titled The Decision to find out where he would go after Cleveland. Remember that?

The One You’re Looking For. Nothing is better than finding the one you’re meant to be with. This person not only stood out as the greatest suitor but committed and performed. Kobe Bryant has done just that not only for the Lakers, but for the NBA, and the sport of basketball in general. Like the guy that attracts your attention from across the room, Kobe stood out early, being the first guard to ever be taken right out of high school. Also, any woman would chop off their left land to have a man show as much commitment to them as Kobe has towards the game. The NBA superstar started displaying his love, affection, and loyalty to the game in high school, where he would practice from 5AM to 7PM, as well as make his teammates play him to 100 points daily. Currently, he keeps track of all of his shots in practice, not leaving until he hits 400 baskets, and trains 4 hours a day during the season and even more during the offseason. That kind of commitment is hard to find, even in most marriages. Not only does this man commit, but he performs. In his 17 seasons he has earned five NBA championships. Lastly, Kobe is able to stand back and assess his relationship with the sport of basketball to make the necessary changes to help him succeed. In a post practice interview with ESPN on Tuesday, Kobe admitted that he has stopped trying to shoot over people, but rather fall back to sink his shots. While he may be slower, he is also a lot stronger. Men and Women in failing relationships rarely have the ability to assess their weaknesses and make the necessary changes to continue their success. This makes Kobe the ultimate package.

The Left Fielder. Where did this guy come from? That guy no one wants to be more than friends with, but somehow leaves with the hottest girl at the party. That’s Brian Scalabrine. He has a career-high 4 points in two minutes and the undivided love of the American people, for no other reason than the fact that he’s a slightly overweight ginger. Seriously. If he was a random white guy, we would pay him no mind, but his Ron Weasley look garnered him more adoring love than Kevin Durant can manage- even WITH Mama Durant ready for hugs at the sideline of every home game.


The Strong Silent TypeHe may not be the life of the party. He doesn’t work well in a crowd and you never knew much about him. But once you get him alone he blows. your. mind. Ladies, let me introduce you to my super shy guy, Rajon Rondo. Doesn’t have a jump shot? He’ll learn. Versatility? No problem. Attitude? He has a ego, but he loves his sport and you’ve gotta respect a guy that works that hard. Even when he dislocates his elbow, he’ll not just aim to please you, but he’ll continue to perform better than ever quite like he did in the 2011 Semi-Finals against the Heat. Just don’t expect an outputting of hugs and kisses after a big win. He’s the type where you consider a handshake affectionate.

NBA Rookie Photo Shoot

Mister Big Talk No Game. Carmelo Anthony needs to put up 30 shots just to score 30 points like the guy that says he bags a lot of girls, but hits on anything standing on two legs. New York is bigger and better than him and he’s never going to be a fan favorite. He’s not that nice guy who leads the team in assists, but when you only win the scoring title because Durant sat out the last game of the season to rest up…does it even count? And I’m going to have to mention him forcing his shots as if he’s attempting to pick up girls that are clearly disinterested.

So as you read this and contemplate which player you want, are or are currently with, don’t worry. From court side to bar side, Danielle and I have got you covered.

An Apology to the Douchebags: “Sorry MY Hair Shrunk YOUR Boner”

It’s been awhile, and gosh, I don’t know who even reads my blog anyways; but one topic has come to mind that I think can draw attention to a much larger issue at hand: the body image of women, and why some men think their opinion is more important when it comes to OUR bodies.

First, I’d like to reiterate this specific mental shortfall affects only SOME men, specifically the close-minded asshole who wrote about why women should not cut their hair short. In the article, he draws attention to a few women, particularly celebs like Beyonce, Emma Watson, and Jennifer Lawrence, who have cut their hair to obtain a style that THEY want. He then goes on to list why women shouldn’t cut the locks that make this asshole want to screw them: celebs can’t even pull it off, you’ll stand out but not in a good way, and short hair will just amplify your flaws.

I’d like to start off by stating that I am not a radical feminist looking to overthrow the patriarchal gender relations of society. My argument in it’s simplest form is this: any change a woman does to her appearance IS NOT ABOUT YOU OR WHAT YOU WANT. Got it?

Now to proceed.

“If you have any female interaction on social media, whatsoever, you may also have seen Jennifer Lawrence’s new ‘do. Though every chick on the planet begs “Can we just be best friends? Why is she perfect?”, you’d only bang her if she lost ten pounds. Now, shedding some lbs. might not even do it. Should have cut her dessert instead.”

Asshole begins his bash of J-Law by feebly attempting to convince his readers that put simply: no one would ever bang Jennifer Lawrence. Maybe he has a point. Most people in the world wouldn’t want to bang Jennifer Lawrence because they actually want to do things like get to know her, spend time with her, tell her she has a beautiful smile, make sweet love to her and then marry her. Why?? Because people are attracted a girl that has confidence, is courageous, shows compassion for others, has a sense of humor, and doesn’t over-sexualize herself. So sorry J-Law, you’re the girl people want to marry, not just bang. I’m sure that’s killing her on the inside.

“Girls, I’m here to save you from yourself. If you’re a woman in your prime, short hair is an overwhelmingly bad idea.”

He should have added, “because it would shrink my already tiny ass boner and if no name asshole blogger doesn’t like your hair that’s all that matters right?” WRONG. Is he really attempting to tell a girl that may want to get a pixie cut on HER OWN HEAD that she needs to be SAVED from HERSELF?? I’m sorry, but there is a variety of reasons girls would want to cut their hair short and it has NOTHING to do with guys almost ALL of the time. I asked one of my closest, bad-ass and confident girlfriends Alyssa why she cut her hair short and it came down to feeling in control and confident because you can’t hide behind hair. It’s sexy in a different and nontraditional way and it makes her life easier. Did she mention pleasing any of the hundreds of boys that find her sexy and attractive? Nope.

His Response? ““But we don’t cut our hair for men, we cut it for ourselves!” the tired chorus cries out. This isn’t just about impressing guys, though. All of those odd insecurities you have about your looks are only highlighted with short hair. Other girls will notice them immediately as well. If you have bad teeth or some other sort of imperfection, with short hair, you’re putting it front and center. Even if you don’t have a glaring flaw, there’s one thing of which I’m sure: your face is going to look fat.”

So, according to him, short hair only shows off flaws and not things like bright eyes, sexy lips, high cheekbones, slender collarbones, smooth shoulders, crisp jawlines, and dazzling smiles right? I guess that makes sense, I only want to get compliments about my tits and ass anyways, because those are the ones that truly make me feel beautiful.

“There are certain things about girls that a guy only notices if they are spectacular or spectacularly awful…The same logic applies to hair, where outside of blonde, brunette, and easy, the male population will give a collective shrug in regard to her having curled it, straightened it, pulled it up, or having done whatever else she spends an hour and a half doing before she goes out. We only notice the length when it happens to rival our own.”

Ladies, why even try to live up to this idiot’s standards if he is too dumb to notice any of your wonderful qualities that an actual man of character will??

Overall this article shed a lot of light on how some simple minded guys view women, our decisions, and our looks. I’m sure all the women below are DEVASTATED by your article and their choices. They really only wanted to make you happy.

Ginnifer Goodwin

Ginnifer Goodwin


Keira Knightley

Halle Berry

Halle Berry


Halloween 2013: Expecting the Expected

October 31st is soon to be upon us. A holiday that encourages little kids to knock on the doors of complete strangers without their parents executing proper background checks. Then these strangers place candy into the sticky little hands of children that trespass through their perfectly planted garden boxes and casually peak into their windows to make sure someone’s home. Halloween is really an interesting holiday that straddles the line between what is socially acceptable and what is considered encouraging semi reckless and weird behavior.

But for those of us that are too old to participate in Trick-or-Treating and do not have children that we can let roam free around the neighborhood, All Hallow’s Eve is quite the different celebration. Personally I’m not overly enthusiastic for the holiday, but I’ve avidly participated in the festivities over the years by ensuring that I have enough liquor in my system. What is my life?

So I present to you my expectations for Halloween 2013:

I expect there to be Halloween parties and special events hosted at either the frat house or the trendy bar downtown that requires you to pay a cover that is inflated about 300%. More people than you’re used to will be packed into the bar that you frequent every other weekend and the chances of Superman getting into a fight with Batman getting into a fight with the bouncer are astronomically high. Apparently, everyone thinks they are a bad-ass on Halloween.

I expect skin tight outfits. Girls stumble around in their heels, usually wearing a tight dress that they sported to the bar a few weekends before with an added accessory or two. Those that aren’t in dresses are typically wearing catsuits. Red lipstick sales peak at this time of year, as does fishnet tights and animal ear headbands. I expect to see a lot more upper thigh than I am accustomed to seeing as well as a lot more girls going bra less. Ladies, if you ever have to ask whether or not it is noticeable that you aren’t wearing a bra, the answer is always YES.


I expect people to get pneumonia, due to the excessive skin exposure associated with not wearing any type of overcoat because, “It will cover up my belly dancer (hula dancer, wonder woman, cheerleader, french maid, sexy nurse) costume.” And females are not the only sex guilty of not caring about their immune system. I can say this with confidence: there will not be a shortage of shirtless guys on Halloween this year.

I expect that there will be that one jackass that flirts with the offensive and slightly racist costume choices, only to give in. Yes, someone is always willing to dress as a racial stereotype or attempt to change their race entirely. Sometimes it’s funny and sometimes it’s not. To this individual, I say good luck to you sir/madam and be prepared for the reactions/consequences.

I expect that someone will dress as a semi recently deceased celebrity. I’m sure that before the passing of William Darrell “Billy” Mays Jr. ; spokesperson for OxiClean, Orange Glo, and KaBoom in 2009, dressing as the promotional mogul wasn’t as popular. It may also be safe to say that attending functions as the Zombie-fied Billy Mays was not as popular either before his death. Now, I see Billy Mays everywhere on 10/31.

RIP Billy Mays (July 20, 1958 - June 28, 2009)

RIP Billy Mays (July 20, 1958 – June 28, 2009)

Not Billy Mays.

Not Billy Mays.

Zombi Billy Mays

Zombi Billy Mays

I expect to be able to find not one, not two, but multiple Waldo’s. On Halloween, all the Waldo’s come out of hiding, donning their signature red and white stripped sweater, hipster glasses, and hat with pom-pom. They can be spotted at the bar, casually sipping an IPA (I imagine Waldo enjoying a nice, classy beer) or busting moves on the dance floor.

There he is!

There he is!

I expect to see the couples out in FULL FORCE, because god forbid salt gets separated from pepper, or peanut butter is left alone with out jelly. If you do a couples costume, no one will understand what you are without your other half. The butt of a horse can easily be mistaken for the butt of many other animals. Without the top half I’m at a loss for what you are my poor unfortunate friend.

I expect everyone to get way too drunk off of red dyed pumpkin flavored beer, hard ciders, and Halloween themed shots. I don’t know how celebrating dead saints with copious amounts of booze work hand in hand, but October 31st has seamlessly made the transition to being just another holiday I can celebrate through getting sloshed.

Well there you have it! Halloween weekend should be quite the show, and if NONE of my expectations turn into your reality, then you aren’t doing it right. Best wishes, stay warm, get drunk, find Waldo, and enjoy!

THE GIANTS SUCK: a Guest Post by an Irate Fan

Last night, the NY Giants took on the Minnesota Vikings with younger Manning verses….. Josh Freeman??? Giants fans like me were cheering for the team to go 1-6. What is our lives??

Unfortunately for me, I work unconventional hours that poop all over my chances of making it home on time to enjoy a nice night of Monday Night Football. Thankfully, I have a truly wonderful, beautiful, and twenty something friend who was able to guest post this wonderful commentary during the game. We both love the Giants, we are both upset at the Giants, and we both are going to try out for all the defensive and offensive line positions possible as well as attempt to fire defensive coordinator Perry Fewell. She is also single, for those guys that like girls who have a more in depth understanding about sports than cheering for home runs in football.

So here it is, Danielle’s debut on Twenty Something What is My Life?: an epic rant on the NY Giants.




So I get paid to watch football. I work at CBS Sports, and I genuinely love my job….it is novel, watching the Giants lose and getting a check every week. I used to get paid per INT, but once Eli hit 10, CBS had to cur back and just put me on a salary.

Take this into consideration: The Vikings have sputtered along with Christian Ponder, who has a SLIGHT edge over Blaine Gabbert- a man I have to commend for even pursuing a career in sports. Josh Freeman has 87 yards with 8 minutes left in the game, and the Giants are ahead ten points. This win goes to show that the Giants cannot even begin to play with the big boys….what we SHOULD do is continue sputtering along at a 2-win pace and grab a top-ten pick.


You wasted a pick on Pugh who, surprise surprise, has not done a thing for you except miss blocks with his teeny, tiny hands. Nassib, also a waste case. There’s no way he can be worse than Eli right now- one touchdown against a lame Minnesota D? Ok bro. But Nassib also won’t offer much of an upside.  I will say it before, and I’ll say it again: AJ MCCARRON WOULD HAVE BEEN THE BEST PICK THEY EVER COULD HAVE MADE. McCarron won’t be a superstar, he’s a SEC QB with the best of the best to work with….he’ll slip to the second round. He will sit behind Eli for a bit, then show off his soon-to-be-3-time-BCS-champ-self.

And He. Would. Be. Marvelous.

Instead, we’re stuck with the big-headed doofus Nassib (seriously, have you seen the size of his head?) and we’re on our FOURTH running back so far….if that’s even right. A friend texted me tonight to say that she went to high school with the Cox character the Giants picked up off the street for tonight’s game. She is a WASP from Rhode Island. I’m SO proud of you, Coughlin and co. SO PROUD. Cleveland thinks THEY have issues? They are 3-3 with BRANDON WEEDEN at QB. ‘Nuff said.

The Vikings have the 31st-ranked defense in the league. Randle has one TD against them, and Brandon Jacobs managed not to fumble in the open field for another. Way to go, boys. Steve Weatherford is the MVP every week- punts so hard Vikings fumble it near the end zone.


To recap: Peyton Hillis ran for -2 yards to end the third quarter. Against, might I remind you, the 31st-ranked defense in the NFL. They are behind the Jaguars. Does that help you put things in perspective?


They are so bad, I’ll likely watch scores on my laptop while I catch up on Orange is the New Black for this last quarter.

UPDATE: I made it through an episode and a half of OITNB. It’s fantastic. (Unlike the Giants.)

Oppan Gatsby Style! Throwing My First After College Party

I promised a post for anytime I threw a rager. Well, the party we thew last Saturday night might not have been a rager, but rather a grown up, dress up, champagne brimmed gathering with my roommates and about twenty of our friends. Needless to say, this party was worlds away from the keggers I used to throw in college that ended in 4loko pong and shame. What is my life?

No matter. Did I mentioned the party was filled with champagne? About fifteen bottles worth. It appears that the cheapness of Andre Extra Dry can be masked by the cheapness of the plastic coupe stemware that it’s served in. However, it’s all about looking classy is it not?


I challenge you to find a college dorm room party that has a table dedicated to fizzy libations, decorated in bottles and pearls. Now you may be asking, “Was fifteen bottles enough?” The answer: No. So we bought three handles of Vodka, Rum, and Gin and a thirty rack of beer. Also noted, was that if I ever find a time machine to take me back to my college years, I would’ve made gin fizzes more often.

Another thing that would be hard to find at a college frat party? A spread of home-made hors d’oeuvres. Yes, commence the woman in the kitchen jokes, because that is where I spent my entire day; however, did Zeta Psi ever have shrimp cocktail at their mansion parties?? I bet they didn’t have tomato mozzarella skewers either. Hell, they probably didn’t even cut up some fruit to throw in a bowl. So, was the work worth it? Yes. I was a straight up Boozy Martha Stewart.

photo 4

Now, to mention something that may run along the same vein when it comes to similarities in party styles: throwing a themed party. I have been to my share of toga, heaven and hell, and tiki shindigs. This one had a dress code and it was Gatsby. So I asked the ladies to bust out the red lipstick, dresses, pearls, feathers and fringe. As for the gentleman, I encouraged suits, bowties, and hats. What I got was straight up Gatsby style. Fake mustaches, top hats, cummerbunds, wigs, feathers, cigarette holders, boas, and sparkles; even my dog had a bowtie. I wish I wasn’t so drunk off my deadly concoction of gin and champagne to work a camera, but really I’m quite happy I was.

Another major difference was the cost. In college, my roommates and I would throw in for a thirty rack of Keystone Light, a handle of Mr. Boston, and a sheet pizza (if we had the extra funds). Cost: $20. Our party would hit jackpot if we could somehow create a make shift pong table out of chairs, boxes, nightstands, doors, or cardboard found on the street.

So my parties have come a long way from throwing get togethers in Suite 123 in Cleveland Hall. A few last things to mention include not having to worry about an R.A knocking us for underage drinking, and I was in bed by 1:30am. Yeah, things have changed.

photo 2

gatsby boys

gatsby girls

gastby girls 2