You may have guessed from the title that I have a short boyfriend. He doesn’t like to be called “short,” but it can’t be denied—at 5’8”, he’s exactly the same height I am, and if I wear heels with even a little bit of height, he suddenly becomes a dwarf.

And yes, that’s OK with me. So I’m kind of perplexed as to why so many of you answered the CC poll question a few weeks back by saying that you’d never date a guy shorter than you are.

That seems awfully judgmental to me. Yeah, it’s fine to have preferences about the people you date—I do prefer taller guys, to be completely honest—but shutting a whole class of guys out of your dating pool is only doing you a disservice. Who knows? Maybe that gorgeous, funny, classy, considerate guy you’ve been secretly dreaming about all these years is actually that short guy standing over there in the corner at the bar. Maybe not… but you’ll never know unless you chat him up and find out. Read More »

Last night’s episode of I Love Money was filled with lots of excitement and some serious dramazzzzz (did I call that or what people?!).

The challenge consisted of picking partners – before everyone knew the challenge, of course – and sitting with them at little tables, where the host then informed the teams that they were in a kissing challenge; meaning, you had to kiss your partner and the longest maker-outers won for their team. It was all fun and games until Chance – admittedly homophobic – and his partner, Mr. Boston, realized they had to lock lips on national television.

Once again, Chance botched the challenge, losing the game for the Green Team. I know you’re part of the Stallionaires and everything buddy, and have your reputation to protect, but it was for a split second and then you could stop (each player had to just touch lips in order to not be disqualified and Chance wouldn’t even do that)…talk about a team player. Read More »

Not so long ago, in a fantasyland far, far away called College, I was your average little freshman, running around wide-eyed and ready to meet as many college boys as possible. And, because I went Greek, I pretty much had to find some unsuspecting (i.e., completely suspecting) frat boy to accompany me to winter semiformal.

Somehow, I found the one non-douchey frat boy ever to exist. He was perfect: tall, dark, and beautiful, with a 4.0, perfect teeth, a lot of cute friends, and - the kicker—a self-pact to not drink until he was 21. Which meant there would be no pre-game, just… game. And I had none, because he was that hot.

I’m not entirely sure why he said yes, and I’m not sure why I thought I was even cool enough to ask this guy out, but somehow the transaction occurred and there we were, sitting, soberly, talking for two hours while my friends drunkenly danced and ran around. Ever the gentleman, he took me to pseudo-dinner at 2:30 AM, got his leftovers wrapped and then drove me back to my dorm. And so it was time to say goodnight.

Ever the self-conscious one, I assumed that he wasn’t interested, but had put on a happy face so as not to crush my little freshman dreams. And just as I went to kiss him on the cheek, his mouth landed fully on mine. I was shocked. He hadn’t tried to make a move all night!

So clearly, the normal reaction is to kiss right back and linger a little longer, possibly suggest you get a tour of his house, etc. But no, rather than being caught up in the moment I said, “MUAH.”

Yes. That’s right. Right after he makes his move, the first thing that my body, which must hate me, does, is pucker right back up and say “MUAH.” Read More »

Jesse Jackson is still not an Obama fan…like, at all

And the Justin Timberlake backlash has begun!

Models may be pretty, but they sure are dumb

Maggie Gyllenhaal is awesome, Letterman is a creep

This totally looks like my favorite new web site!

Ashlee Dupree has ruined more than Elliot Spitzer’s good name

But…the Jobros…are so adorable and wholesome! How dare you not like them!

Deleted scenes from Wall-E

Religion 2.0

“There is more to kissing than just shoving your tongue in and letting it lay there.”

Kathryn Heigl needs to go. Perhaps one of these ways would be best?

Q: What is Lindsay Lohan and Samantha Ronson’s relationship to one another? Are they…

a) Best friends
b) Roommates
c) Dating
d) Engaged

A: All of the above, apparently. HAHA, GOT YOU GOOD, F*CKERS!

But seriously. According to thesuperficial.com, Perez, the Daily Mail, the New York Post, and probably a hoard of other gossip mongers that I haven’t bothered to look at, Lohan and Ronson were spotted kissing on P. Diddy’s boat in Cannes this weekend. The Post also reports that that the two ladies have moved in together, and word on the street is that Lohan was seen at the D&G party in Cannes wearing a diamond ring on her engagement finger.

Rumors started floating around last year that Ronson, an actual factual lesbian, and Lohan were dating, but until these recent developments there wasn’t a lot of evidence to back it up. Leshan’s (no? no dice? alright) reps deny that she’s “gotten in to the catnip” so to speak, and maintain that her and Ronson are just BFFs, but these pics suggest otherwise. Read More »

I have never really been good at the whole dating thing. Well, maybe not dating – I rock on first dates and have been told by many a-man that I am quite the kisser — more the patience part of it. I have a tendency to get super excited, super soon. A common case of falling too hard, too fast. I sit by my phone/computer willing the boy to communicate with me in some way.

An IM?
A text?
Something.

And when it doesn’t happen, I jump into action. A cute text message here. A hilariously witty email there. I am not being crazy or stalkerish; I am just being cute. Giving him something to fall in love with.

I never really questioned my actions (even though every book on earth tells you to play hard to get) until I found myself on the receiving end of the “cuteness.” I met a guy online and began IMing with him. We had some good conversations through AIM, so when he asked me for my digits a few days later I obliged.

So, he called. And he called again. And he texted. And he sent me Facebook messages, IMs, emails, more texts. They were clearly attempts at being cute (“We are in a fight”, “Did you forget about me?”), without success. They were not funny or witty; if anything, they made him look completely pathetic. Did he have nothing better to do than sit around and wait for me to call? Didn’t he have friends, or something else to occupy his time? Read More »

Dear Madonna,

Unlike my other colleagues here at CollegeCandy, when I was just a wee lass (that’s what you probably say now, and in a faux English accent, right?), I used to love you. I did. I was a fan. I loved your bangles, your lacy short socks, your polka-dotted headbands, your frizzy half-bleached blond hair, your apparent smelliness. I always imagined your scent to be a strong B.O., mixed with garlic, in “Borderline,” “Papa Don’t Preach,” and “Lucky Star.”

I adored your trashy “I’m-a-punky-girl-from-NYC” look, and when you spray painted stuff all over those Grecian statues, you were great! Of course, at the tender age of five, I didn’t realize that your look, your “raunchy NYC city-ness” was all totally faux, too. But that’s OK. Even though I know that you’re from Michigan, I’m still all right with that.

I even followed your music through the rougher spots, when it was icky as hell. I didn’t mind the whole India-moment (you were obviously doing a lot of soul searching), or the confusion you seemed to experience when you put out your last album (roller skates? Disco balls? Huh?). Remember all that silliness? You wore way too much disco-stuff and had Farrah Fawcett hair, even though the music didn’t sound a lick like something from the 70s. Read More »

I dated my first boyfriend for almost two full years, but I hated the way he kissed.

Somehow, I feel like I’m not alone. In fact of all the guys I’ve kissed—I’m trying to count in my head as I write this—I can only think of one or two that have really kissed well.

Part of my problem, yes, was that I was way too spineless to bring up the fact that I didn’t like how my boyfriends kissed. But seriously, how do you even broach a topic like that? “By the way, I hate the way you kiss”? I don’t think so! Read More »

One of the things I hate most about being a girl is shaving. Guys have to shave their faces, yes, but they can also have beards, and there’s nothing wrong with a little stubble. Oh wait, there is? Gillette’s new ad campaign says, “no Fusion, no kiss.” Apparently, girls do not want to kiss men who have any stubble at all. So men need to shave it all off with Gillette’s new Fusion razor. I totally disagree.

Stubble can be sexy, right girls? I’m not really big on beards (though some girls are), but to me, there’s nothing at all wrong with a little five o’clock shadow.

Gillette’s new ad campaign is probably one of the worst campaigns I’ve seen in a long time, due to content and message. The interactive video basically tells guys to shave or all they’ll get from girls are handshakes. If you tell the video you don’t shave, a super annoying man describes way too many types of handshakes to you. If you tell the video you shave, they proceed to give you kissing lessons. The kissing lessons consist of women who are half dressed with their boobs hanging out, talking about kissing.

Right. Read More »

God, I remember my first kiss. I remember thinking that it tasted like bananas and then I remember thinking, “Sh*t, I hope this gets better or I don’t know what all the fuss is about.”

Turns out, it got better. The kissing got better, the men I kissed got better, the touching, the sweaty make-out sessions and the ridiculous hormones that flew about with reckless abandon, that all got better and definitely got put to use, frequently.

Then, I remember my “first time”. I remember thinking that it was short. Fumbling and awkward. And then I remember thinking, “Sh*t, I hope this get’s better or I don’t know what all the fuss is about.”

Well, yippee…it got better. A lot better. For myself and my friends included. Read More »