Alcohol is my oyster. It is my aphrodisiac. It turns me on. It makes me want to hump anything on two legs (and the occasional wall). Give me a few Vodka/Soda’s and I am like a frat boy in heat.

Grrr.

That means that, against my better judgment, I often let my loins do the talkin’ and follow them wherever (and with whomever) they decide. And usually they decide to head home for a little intoxicated fun. Unless they are over-ruled by my belly, in which case we make a pit-stop for breadsticks en route to the fun.

And fun we have.

But drunk sex isn’t all “Ooo”s, “Ahhh”s, and “OH MY GOD!”s… Yes, there are some downsides to these late night trysts. If you are one to think before you act (unlike me and my unruly libido), you may want to consider some of the pros and cons to Not-So-Sober Sex before you head home with a gent.

Pro: Your inhibitions go out the window.
Con: Your ability to tell if someone is really attractive goes out the window.

Pro: It feels (so) good
Con: The motion of the ocean might make you hurl

Pro: You try a bunch of crazy sh*t
Con: You try (and fail at) a bunch of crazy sh*t. Read More »

Because our usual I Love Money recapper is enjoying a summer vacay (lucky biatch), I was commissioned to watch and recap the most recent episode of the show. Now, I would just like to say that I watch a LOT of bad TV. A lot. My DVR currently holds too many episodes of What Not To Wear, some reruns of The Real Housewives of Orange County, Engaged and Underage and, of course, True Life, I’m a Staten Island Girl.

Yet, knowing all of that, I am still really embarrassed to have watched the trash also known as, I Love Money.
This show is trashier than The Real World, I Love New York and From G’s to Gents (yes, I have watched one episode of that train wreck) combined. I mean, seriously? Is VH1 for real with this show? There are just a bunch of REALLY dumb, really trashy people living in a house together…and having sex with other people in the room. And the names? Whiteboy? The Entertainer? DESTINEY?

I don’t know if I am watching TV or visiting a strip club.

I am not quite sure of the premise of the show, but I assume it is for all these freaks to try and win some money. And on last night’s episode, that somehow included making themselves cry with the aid of onions, cayenne pepper (that some moron RUBBED INTO HER EYES) and even some girl asking a dude to smack her in the face while her teammate tried (so hard) to be upset that she was away from her son.

Yeah. Seriously. Read More »

[Seriously though, if your mom is in this picture…We want to high five her]

So, last weekend after the utter embarassment of stuffing my thighs and stomach into a pair of too-small boxer shorts, I looked back on the situation and had to laugh. Like, ROFL, laugh. (Ew, did I just use that lingo? I feel like I’m 12.)

Yes, it made me feel a little hefty next to my Manorexic friend, but that sh*t was funny. And it is only one of many mortifying hook-up stories. Let’s be honest - two drunk and horny people heading home to a dark bedroom is a total recipe for embarassment and hilarity. And it seems I am not alone in this one. This week we asked our writers to contribute their most humiliating hook up stories. These will totally make you LOL.

Elizabeth – Baruch College: I once awoke with a boy (having not remembered how he got to my bed) only for him to tell me: “You’re bleeding everywhere.” Thinking I had gotten my period, I was like, “Oh god, sorry, dude.” But to my surprise, it was my back that was bleeding. During our rampaging sex, apparently, I had fallen onto my computer plug and it impaled my back. I still have the scar. Fact.

Blair - Gettysburg College: My sophomore year me and my boyfriend got. it. on. and then passed out naked on the couch. We woke up awhile later when his roommate and friends came back late-night (with pizza!) and found us in the buff.

Kate Bean: Up until the age of… well… last weekend, I had thought queefing was just a normal side effect of great sex. In the past, guys acknowledge this sex toot with a little chuckle or nod of the head. APPARENTLY not all guys are so familiar with the experience; I actually had a guy glare at me. GLARE! Little did he know, my vagina was glaring right back at him in disappointment. Read More »

I have something to tell you: I am not petite. At 5’10 and not a size 4, I am what many would consider a biggish girl. And that makes it hard to date. Especially because I want to date a nice, Jewish boy…who also happens to be bigger than me. No offense to my people out there, but there are very few Jewish males who reach above 5’5. (And I have been looking for years!)

People always yell at me and tell me I am being too picky, (“What is the big deal?” “Why not someone who is at least your height??”) but I can’t help it. And trust me – I have tried.

Last weekend, I went home with a very attractive boy – my height, super hot …but really, really skinny. I was already nervous enough to strip down to my skivvies, considering my post beer belly. But, thanks to the power of that very beer, I was feelin’ frisky, so strip I did. We had our fun. When it was time to go to bed, though, I couldn’t find my undergarments in the pile of clothes on the floor, so the boy threw me a pair of his boxers to sleep in. And it was like putting in a pair of Spanx. Or plaid biker shorts.

Totally true.
Totally embarrassing. Read More »

I wanted to write something snarky about this product — I really did. I mean, the name, the packaging, the weird product description…the door is wide open for some hilarious digs.

But I just couldn’t do it it. Part of the reason is because I’m pretty sure this is a joke…and if it isn’t, and there are chicks out there who would pay money to rub hydrolyzed collagen, sodium benzoate, DL menthol, calcium chloride, propylparaben, and citric acid (to name a few) inside their vajayjays…the world is over and there’s nothing to be said.

The walk of shame. The stride of pride. The slut strut.

Whatever you want to call it, we’ve all been there; Bra in the bag, a single sock, mascara running down the face, ducking behind buses and bushes trying not to be seen. It is a right of passage for many college students who – while embarrassed on the actual walk – take pride in the steps it took them to get there.

Good or bad, the Walk of Shame has become so common (even celebrated!) these days that designers are basing their new collections on it and companies creating ads around it.

We asked our writers to share some of their favorite Walk o’ Shame tales. Some made us laugh; others made us cringe. Most, though, made us wish we could have been there to witness the glory.

Kari - Florida State: My friend woke up in the chapter room of the fraternity house that threw an ENORMOUS lingerie party the night before, was too groggy/ still drunk to find her car, so she walked home instead. The street hosts about 5,984 different churches, so my lucky friend strolled past a bevy of proper southern ladies in their Sunday best (and in her skimpy Saturday night naughtiest).

Elizabeth - Baruch College: Some jeans of mine had a rip along the backside. The fella removing my pants managed to literally rip the pants off, leaving denim…underwear, basically. The only pants he had to lend me the next day were wind pants…with my heeled cowboy boots. They were too long for me and tripped me on the sidewalk on the way out. I fell on my face and his wind pants were bloody. What a walk of shame. He didn’t want the pants back. Go figure. Read More »

I’m a progressive girl. I’m all about equality.

But give me my own bathroom.

Co-ed bathrooms are one of college’s biggest mysteries. Who thought it would be a good idea? Who decided that it would be totally cool to completely devoid college kids of any type of privacy? Did none of the inventors of co-ed bathrooms ever have a crush?

And if they did, how could they fathom perhaps bumping into that crash while they still had pimple stuff on their face and crow’s nest on top of their head?

I just don’t understand it. The bathroom is sacred. Private. It’s not a place I want to discuss homework or chat about the newest TV show.

I don’t want to step out of the shower and come face to face with the captain of the lacrosse team. I don’t need that sort of horrible awkwardness in my life.

Also, in case no one’s noticed, guys and girls take very different approaches bathroom etiquette. Guys often think nothing of taking the entire sports section into the stall with them and staying in there for hours, while girls prefer to get in and get out without anyone really seeing. Read More »

As if the New York City heat wave wasn’t hell-sent enough, it chose to hit at the exact moment that the air conditioning in our cluttered intern’s den became kaput. Working at this music television station had simply become one crazy story after the next.

The other day I was asked to get one of the VJ’s dogs groomed and was given an anal leakage prescription that, to my horror (this is my luck we’re talking about) got carried away by a breeze and was handed back to me by a beautiful, beautiful (somewhat queasy-looking) but beautiful boy. Anal leakage is not such a cute ‘So how’d you two meet?’ type of story. So, I bailed pronto.

Anyway that was the other day, today was today, and today I was sweating like a recovering nymphomaniac who’d accidentally stumbled into a brothel. The glory of it all was that miraculously, the AC had only died out in our small cubicle encrusted room, so no one with any actual power had any desire to get it fixed anytime soon.

Oh, the agony of a summer internship.

I was immersed in checking for evidence of the dreaded pit stain (little ones already and it was only nine, boo) when my boss Pierre came to what seemed like my rescue, informing me that I’d be working in the filming studio today. I clapped my hands together, this I’d never done before! Read More »

It is snowing in April, which can mean one of two things:

1. Michigan weather sucks
2. Christmas came early this year

On any normal snowy April day in Michigan, I would guess the former. But, seeing as I found this nugget of goodness on the internet this morning, I think Santa is in town!!

Now, don’t get me wrong. Besides her horrible taste in men (Brody Jenner, Jason, that other annoying dude from the first season of Laguna) I think Lauren is a fabulous girl; she wears great clothes, carries amazing bags, and is much cuter than her little sister with the monster chin.

That doesn’t mean that I don’t chuckle at the idea of her having sex on video and showing off her infamously famous (apparently) giant labia.

Maybe that’s why she’s always wearing long skirts. I mean, that would be really embarrassing if one of them just happened to roll out during class. Or, even worse, at a Vogue fashion show. Read More »