Browsing All Posts filed under »My Sad Life«

What I didn’t learn in college (Alternatively, why fame doesn’t suit me)

October 18, 2012


I had this thought yesterday. I was pacing around my bedroom in my jammies at about 4:35 p.m., my unwashed hair in a sort of Annie Hall lounge-bun/Cast Away ravage-mop, when I stopped before my full-length mirror. There, as I sucked my belly in, achieving no figure enhancement given my XXL T-Shirt serving as the […]

womp womp womp…!

April 23, 2011


It’s been a few days. Allow me to explain: when one finds oneself in a position wherein one sets a bar of humor and entertainment for oneself and one’s readership that becomes increasingly difficult to reach, one faces writer’s block from even the most minute setback. Or in simpler terms: I had a total fart […]


April 15, 2011


As I write this, I am doing two significant things: 1) Listening to “Hero” by Enrique Iglesias 2) Sitting just about 80 hits short of 30,000. Use personal judgment to determine which concerns me more. Anywho, I have a vow to upkeep, so I’m blogging. (Not that you should expect much from me, since it’s […]

“Left out,” indeed.

April 14, 2011


I’d like to take this opportunity–pause for a moment, as I climb atop my soapbox–to educate you all about a problem that plagues me to a deeply personal extent. I have come too far in life not to acknowledge it. There have been too many awkward dinner table shuffles, pencil smears, guitar lesson woes and […]

Goodbye, grades (as promised)

December 10, 2010


Did you ever think you’d see me again so soon?! Thanks to all of you who gave me your suggestions. Not surprisingly, I have accomplished no studying since my last post, as my browser tabs have transformed into a gold mine of procrastination tools. And now, in the Christmas spirit, I shall pass those tools […]

A salute to the men of the World Cup (and why America still rules)

June 27, 2010


Men, go ahead and enjoy your flag-waving, scantily clad chicks at the beginning of car races and those girls with tig ol’ bitties who prance around with signs in the middle of boxing rings. I’m good, really, and I’m not jealous. I have the World Cup. I feel that I can speak on behalf of […]

An Ode to Frat Stars

May 3, 2010


Here’s to you, frat stars. You handsome, sexy, handsome, dapper specimens. As a sorostitute, I don’t know how you do it–look so good every day. But I can speculate. While the sorostitute dress code was conceived in the poorest-executed plan possible, frat stars had it right. The chief frat stars must have met in some […]