Recappin\' The Hills...

So, I was gone for a few weeks and
missed out on a lot of Hills recapping.
I was so excited to get back into it…
until I actually watched tonight’s totally
sucky episode. Like most episodes of
The Hills, nothing really happened. In
fact, the entire show can be broken
down into two sentences:
Lauren and Audrina make up.
Spencer acts like a douche in
front of his Nana. Read More...

Next: Undergrad Boys or Grad Men?
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Why Did I Think I Was A Porn Star Last Night?

Alcohol can do a whole lot of things to us. For most girls, there is one sure thing it seems to do every time we’ve had way too much to drink:

It convinces us that we are sexy. That we are…SO sexy.

And a wasted girl who is convinced that she is…SO sexy…is pretty much a recipe for soon-to-come regret. With the slightest instigation, whiskey shots can transform themselves into public make out sessions. And public make out sessions can even sooner become private bedroom parties where you are, invariably, SURE that you’re Jenna Jameson.

And while your ass in the air is likely a sight to be seen and your “dirty talk” is welcomed, (albeit much more hilarious than sensual); you are not Jenna Jameson. Read More »

My Domestic Dispute

23475341.jpgI was rudely awoken this morning at the ripe hour of 6:45 to the sounds of passionate sex being had above me. This was after falling asleep to the sounds of wild passionate sex being had above me. And right now, as I type this, they are going at it again; this time in the living room above me.

I think I am starting to go crazy!

Not that I haven’t experienced this phenomenon before; I did live with 8 girls in an old house during college. The walls were paper thin and I could hear everything from giggles to bed springs to even the slightest breath. But those were my friends. I had no problem marching up the stairs, gently knocking on the door and reminding said roommate that not everyone needs to know how “good that feels.”

I don’t know the dude who lives upstairs. In fact, until I heard two male voices moaning in the throes of sex last night, I had no idea that he was gay. And it is not like that makes a difference for me at all; I don’t want to hear anyone – gay or straight – screaming “F*$! ME” at 6:45 on a Sunday morning. Nor do I care how either of the parties “likes it” or where their next fornication location is going to be. (Yes, I did hear one boy throw out the idea of “taking this to the shower.”) But my point is that I barely know my upstairs neighbor, making it virtually impossible for me to broach this touchy subject with him. Read More »

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