I went out with a guy once. On our first date we went to dinner, and things were going so well that when he took me home I invited him in.

At which point he asked me if he could borrow a book while he “dealt with all the dairy” he had just eaten.

True story. And it ended right there; I never called him again.

I have no problem with talking about farts and poop, but I do have a problem doing so on date #1. I just don’t understand why guys feel the need to bring up the bowels when we haven’t even locked lips yet. And then there is the whole double standard; why can he fart in the car and lock the windows but I can’t even mention the fact that I poop without him cringing and curling up in the fetal position?

I asked my guy friends to break it all down for me - apparently farting is a sign of endearment. Read on… Read More »

When I was little, I wasn’t really a Barbie girl. Even as a young child, I was vaguely aware of the fact that Barbie was proportioned funny and had tatas that just couldn’t‘t be real. I hearted My Little Ponies instead, and had just about every single one (including the Flutter Pony with bug wings, bitch!), giving my time to fantastical creatures rather than mass-produced patriarchal dolls.

BUT. Had this Barbie been around when I was little, I’m sure I would have begged my mom for it until she eventually gave in. I mean, how could you not covet a doll with her own pooper scooper?!?

ps: not only do you get a pooper scooper, you get poop too! Little, plastic, miniature poops!

This past weekend was crazy. Well, for after-college-Lauren, that is. I went out both Friday and Saturday night and got D to the Runk (which makes drunk) both nights. My drink of choice: Rum and Diet, with a refreshing squeeze of lime. Not only delicious, but the perfect blend for a happy, fun, drunk Lauren.

Sunday morning, though, was not so great. I felt like sh*t. I crawled out of bed and right onto the couch where I spent a good portion of my day watching TV and playing online. Which only made me feel worse. It turns out that feeling like crap was only the beginning of my problems. My weekend bender had me drinking crap.

And, no, I am not referring to lovely and magical alcohol as crap. I am literally talking about poop. In my drink.

According to a study discussed in this article, the little lemon wedges that adorn the top of water/soda/alcohol cups is not quite as clean and refreshing as we once thought. In fact, of the 76 lemons tested, “a total of 25 different types of germs were found.”

Ew.

Read More »

Before I delve into how much oral activity went on last night (on the show of course), the beginning of Nip/Tuck was utterly horrifying. Dr. MacNamara’s new leading lady sh*t herself in his hot tub and was from that point referred to as “the sh*tter.”

Is it just me or does this girl seem way too unworthy of dating such a hot doctor? I don’t care that she used to be fat. I don’t mind that she has some intimacy issues. What bothers me is that her personality sucks. What does he see in her? Especially now that she’s literally sh*t all over him. Uh, so gross. I did however find all of the poop talk hilarious.

My prediction is that MacNamara dumps her and gets it on with Eden, lesbian Olivia’s overly sexual daughter, who’s hair is out of control. And side note: Is this chick for real? I mean what is she? A teen dominatrix? You’d think she were a tease, but I’m seriously doubt it. Read More »

• Think you’re going through a dry spell? “The average [amount of sex oppourtunities] in the engineering school is probably like once a semester.” Tragic. (Miami Herald)

• The French Prime Minister’s son likes poop. And Facebook! And embarrassing his family! (Telegraph.co.uk)

• “Having women well represented in the corporate boardroom can help improve financial performance.” Maybe with that extra money we can all get paid equally…maybe? (Yahoo!)

• Why is it that I could feasibly post a variation of this story everyday? Stop the madness! (Telegraph.co.uk)

• Some fat guy ate 21 pounds of grits and won $4,000. That works out to be about $190 a pound. It was for the glory, people! (seattlepi.com)

When I was a sophomore living in my sorority house, I was blessed with the honor of living in a quad. Not only did I have to share a room with three other girls (who all had way too much stuff), but the room was tiny and there was absolutely no privacy.

But, after living there for a few months I realized that there were some perks to this unwanted living situation. For one thing, the girls I lived with were hilarious. We were always having a good time drinking, watching movies, or just hanging out. They were also nice to have around in a time of crisis – a 24 hour support system.

However, the small space obviously created many issues, the least of which was a lack of drawer space. My all time worst moment in this itty-bitty box of a room happened after a sorority date party. For those of you who don’t know, a sorority date party consists of asking guys to join you at a bar where everyone gets very very drunk. Kind of like any other night of the week but with dresses and a photographer.

Anyways, needless to say, my roommates and I got quite intoxicated. Upon returning to the sorority house, everyone proceeded to leave their men outside and completely pass out fully clothed. I was pretty much dead to the world when I suddenly woke up out of my sleep; something smelled really bad. It took me awhile to figure out where I was, why I was still wearing heels, and why there was a slice of pizza in my hand, but when I finally came to I realized that my roommate Jamie (whose bottom bunk was a mere 4 inches away from mine) was also sniffing the air with a not-so-happy look on her face. Read More »

Finding a man at the bar is one of my favorite pastimes. I know what people think when they look at me leaving the party with yet another new man, but what can ya do? I love the chase…and the passion.

But even I have to admit the downsides to the ever-so-popular one night stand:
1. The period of time (about an hour) between returning home and ripping each other’s clothes off that is usually filled with obligatory and totally random conversation. You know, so no one feels like this is all about the sex….which we all know it is.
2. The awkward goodbye in the morning filled with clothing searches, phone number exchanges, and a long walk past the roommates.
3. Morning after poos.

Don’t even pretend that you don’t have ‘em. You know; the after-effects of beer, more beer, pizza, and booze. They are ugly, dirty, and very, very smelly. And if the boy sticks around long enough, someone is going to have one. And someone else is going to know.

Which is why I am totally obsessed with this fabulous new invention. This little toilet-seat-sent-from-heaven is the perfect solution to morning after poo’s. Or any bomb you have to drop with a cute man around. Read More »