Don't Tread on Me

I am in college.  I go to the gym daily(ish). 

Now, in the beginning of the year everybody knows that the gym is going to be overly crowded.  It is full of people trying to keep New Year's resolutions that they have made, promising themselves that by the time summer rolls around they are going to look good in a bathing suit. 

Something else everybody knows: Most college kids have little to no will power.  This is not a slight at group of people, just a fact of life. [You take the good  you take the bad you take them both and there you have The Facts of Life!]

Now, I go to Penn State, and we have this little thing known as THON (Google that for yourself if you don't know about it) - and this is another motivation for students to go to the gym. 

Long story short- both THON and the beginning of the year are done, so the gym is much less crowded, making it much easier to observe people. 

I have discovered just a few things about people that go to the gym that really does not sit well with me

The first of these things would be texting while sitting on a machine.  I especially dislike this when they are on a machine that I want to use. 

I mean, REALLY?  You really need your phone while in the gym?  FURTHER- you need to occupy the space where I want to be while you text? Stand in a corner and text.  OH WAIT.  MAYBE it would be a good idea to leave your phone in your locker.  But that's just me. 


Aside from the texters there is another group of people that kill me at the gym:  The people who stare at other people.  Now- let's get things straight- I observe other people- but I do it properly.  I glance at people every now and then just to see what is up.  It is not OK to stare at someone the entire time that they are doing crunches- trust me, they do not want you to stare at them.

There are only two reasons that people would want you to look at them while at the gym. One reason would be if there is a mutual attraction between the two parties, and there is casual glancing from one person to the next.  This reason is perfectly acceptable, if used in the right quantities. 

Which leads me to the next set of people that bother me at the gym.  The people who cleary DO want you to stare at them the entire time they are working out.  "Look at me! Look at me! I can bench press 500 pounds! Me tough guy! Me so tough!"  We get it.  You're in better shape than us.  You probably have a small penis though, so I'm not all that jealous.

Now for the last type of person that I discovered today while at the gym: the person who sings to himself the whole time.  This person need not be wearing headphones- he can just as easily sing along to the music playing over the speaker.  The worst is when they get really really into it.  It is as if they are singing in the privacy of their own shower.  Guess what?  They gym is a public place.   People can see you.  Much more- they can see you.

Oh yeah.  I am definitely guilty of being that lip-synching gym star.  Whatever, I'm cool with it.

Easy as 123.

So I have always thought myself to be somewhat of a connoisseur in the realm of women's underwear.  I really had no premise on which to base this- other than my habitual use of the product.

I thought I knew all the styles.  Bikini, string bikini, thong, boyshort, low rise, hipster, briefs, crotchless, and g-string. 

I thought that was pretty much the gist of it.  Boy was I wrong.  Today whilst perusing the web and looking for stripper costumes, you know- the usual, I came across something that I had never seen before.  Something that I had never even imagined could be.  They call it: The C-String.

Whhhhat is "the c-string" you ask?  Well. It is kind of like a hair band for your lady-land, but let us explore some more! (I wanted to rhyme- sue me).

According to Wikipedia the C-string is as narrow as a g-string but without the band around the waist, leaving just a C shaped piece between the legs held in place firmly by a flexible internal frame. Since there is no material around the waist, the c-string completely eliminates the panty lines which thongs and other underwear create. C-strings are also designed for use as beachwear, which reduces the tan lines that would have been left by the side straps of even a g-string.

I'm sorry.  BEACH WEAR?  What kind of beach is this?  If this macaroni noodle is deemed acceptable beach attire I am thinking that it is the type of beach where one could just go commando- but that is just me.
 
If you buy something that requires you to wear a "C-string" in order to not show panty lines- maybe you should just pick out a differnt dress.  Men, I cannot stress this enough- if YOU need a C-sting, please please PLEASE consider letting your balls drop and manning up.
 
 
THIS is what real men look like:

If It Is Up to Me, You'll RSVP!

Childhood obsessions. We allll had 'em. Maybe yours was bugs? Alternatively, maybe it was Bugs. Regardless, I am sure there was something. Something to which your were irrationally attatched.

I would like to think that by revisiting our childhood obsessions we can see a little insight into who we have become today, and who were are going to become later in life.

I'll admit it, I was obsessed with the Olsen Twins. You were too, don't lie to yourself. But I didn't just like them, I wanted to be one of them (apparently I had no sense of bio-logic). I had all of their movies, I watched all of their television shows, I pretended that I had my own Mary-Kate and Ashley TV show (I was always Ashley, for the record), I bought their clothing line, I frequently checked their website (I got the internet while in elementary school so stop judging me), I sang all of their songs and I was in their fan club, which they so cleverly disguised as their "Fun Club" (Fans can write to 859 Hollywood Way, Suite 412, Burbank, CA 91505 for information or visit their official website at http://www.marykateandashley.com/. ... Not sure if this still holds- I'll try it out and get back to you)

So one day, I decided that I would look back and see why I was so obsessed, you know get a little insight into who I am and who I am to become. I stumbled upon (not via http://www.stumbleupon.com/, but via me being creppy and YouTube stalking them) this jewel.




It is now clear to me why I loved them so.  The answer is very simple- I was in training to be a pedophile.

Pardon Me While I Geekgasm

Things that make me really upset:
Hypocrites
Bump-Its
And Princess Peach

So last night was Saturday night, and like any really cool twenty year old fine and sexy lady- I summoned a male friend to come over at 4AM.  You're thinking "Woot Woo! Booty call!" ... Or maybe you're thinking, "You stupid whore.  I hope you get Syphilis."  Well, I wasn't the one getting The Syph last night, Peach was. 

So the 4AM summoning was less of a booty call and more of a Mario Party tryst. 

I don't know if you've ever played before, but I can assure you- Peach is a whore.  As a rule of thumb when I play and need a computer opponent I always choose Peach, because I hate her so.  I normally put her on "easy" just because I am immature I like to say "Dur da durrr, Peach is easy... Like a whore."

Long story short I put Peach on Normal last night and she not only won (Yeah, apparently I suck at this game) But she set two records. HOW is it possible for a computer player to set records?

Peach always manages to win.  And I know it is because she is getting on her knees for Bowser, but C'MON.  I am continually upset by her because she doesn't deserve to win. Not because she is better than me.  That isn't it.  If she deserved to win I'd probably still hate her, but out of respect, not out of the fact that she is a whore who gets everything that she doesn't deserve.  QUIT GETTING KIDNAPPED AND ACTUALLY DO SOMETHING USEFUL. Woe is you, Peach. WOE IS YOU.

Peach to me is a representation of every Adderall snorting, food purging, lemonade drinking girl in college, and I think that it is an abomination that in the original Mario Party games that you can have Peach as a player and NOT TOAD.

E'rrybody knows that Toad gets all the bitches.

Don't believe me? < That is a link, in case you didn't know.

"I wish my mom would understand that just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I have to stop going out."

Living outside one's own boudaries.  It is something that we all want to do, but perhaps something that not all of us should do. 

My cookies are frosted, yours should be too.  On second thought, maybe they shouldn't.  Why is it that some people think that if they wear smaller clothing that they will look smaller?  It is not true, don't kid yourself.  If you're a medium, wear a medium, a small is going to do nothing for you, except maybe highlight your flaws.  And if you're an 8X, by all means please take that as an invitation to wear a medium. OH WAIT. 

Now, do not get me wrong, I'm not saying that there is anything wrong with being an 8X or even an 80X (and again don't get me wrong, there definitely is something wrong with that, it just isn't the point that I'm making).  But people, embrace you, don't just embrace a third of you. 

I was walking through a building today,  (okay, that is a lie, it was yesterday- today I haven't even left my apartment) and I see this girl, and I'm going to be straight with you I felt as though I had been assaulted.  If I wanted to see that much skin, I would watch porn (and trust me, I do).  Further: IT IS FEBRUARY.  February is no time to be wearing two squre inches of fabric, not in Pennsylvania anyway. And for some people, (myself included, so don't think I'm being all high and mighty), there is no month in which that amount of clothing is acceptable. 

Go to the store.
Find a sweater.
Now put that one down and grab your actual size.
Buy that sweater.
Take it home.
Wear it.


Sixteen and Pregnant is a quality show.

Following My Own Blog

Tell me that you don't hate it when someone endlessly laughs at his own jokes?  Maybe you haven't experienced this sort of person.  Well let me describe this sort of person to you. 
1. Said person tells a joke.
2. Said person laughs at said joke.
3. Said person continues to laugh at said joke.
4. Conversation progresses in a differnt direction.
5.  Said person references said person's said joke.
6. Said person laughs again, probably ending with a sort of sigh as if to say, "Oh those really were the days."

It is alright, said person, we didn't like you before you did that anyway.


I am following my own blog.