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?
True to my procrastinating nature, I have yet to begin my summer diet-exercise regimen. And, like any adept procrastinator would, I’ve spent the past month coming up with excuses for why I’ll hit the gym and pick up a yogurt “starting tomorrow.”
There’s something to be said about looking sweet when you’re about to be getting down and dirty. I think it harks back to the male fantasy of the hidden sexpot—a woman transformed from a squeaky clean innocent to a saucy little minx with a heavy dose of manly seduction.