These Freshman are Making My Kidneys Bleed...

   
      Sharpen your pencils and refill the condom drawers kiddies, it's back to school time! Hopefully everyones summer was as alochol infused and adventurous as mine. Due to censorship laws I wouldn't be able to even discuss half of the shit I did while on break - which for my reputations sake is probably a good thing - so I'll just leave that up to the perversions of your imagination. Moving on... With a new school year starting, thousands of freshman flock to campus in hopes of drinking their first jager bomb, losing their virginities in a 7 X 5 dorm room stall, and leaving college with a shred of dignity and a degree. With that being said I thought I would take this time to write an advisory post informing all the little shithead newcomers of some "helpful" tips and tricks to make their transition into the big leagues a little easier. (I'm such a sweet little son of a bitch, right?).

        For starters: Let's not get ahead of ourselves tots. Alot of you start the school year out forgetting you are on the bottom of the damn food chain, smallest fish in the biggest of ponds, most insignificant little blips on the social scene radar. Get too big for those britches and the upperclassmen will gladly take the time to replace them with diapers filled with rabid squirrels.

      And more importantly... did you not consult ANYONE before starting school about proper dress code? Clearly Hollister, Aeropastle, American Eagle, Rue 21, or for fuck's sake Kmart are no longer acceptable. And god forbid you match it up with a fucking pooka shell necklace. There is a two week grace period. Burn your high school wardrobe and replace it with something a little more mature. I'd hate to have to burn them for you and replace your closet with bags of my vomit. Also... ditch the lanyard dude! No one -- not in any imaginable universe -- will EVER think that wearing a string around your neck, with whatever piece of childish fuckery you so idiotically decide to attatch to the end, will be socially acceptable - are you trying to remain flacid forever?

      For those of you who deem yourselves to be "innovators" or "trend starters" ... just stop now. No one will pay attention to anything you think is cool. Save your ideas for your nightly phone call with your mother. We know you still breast feed off of her or else you wouldn't be riding your bicycle from 3rd grade across campus. And for the love of god do NOT choose now to be the time you think you can reinvent yourself. Remove the oversized headphones from around your ears, take off the gold chain, and tie your damn shoes. You are no thug, son. We all know you went to catholic school and your father drives a porsche. You're literally fooling no one with this fasade of being "hard-up, hungry, and raised on The Skreets." Get off it already and take a Xanax like the rest of the adults here.

Oi Vay! I could discuss this flawed era in a young adult's life for hours, but unfortunately (and to no ones surprise surely) I am late for class.

You stay classy San Diego... AND YOU STAY OUT OF MY WAY TINY TOTS!

That Man is NOT Who She Says He Is... (give it a minute..)

OK so I am not sure what time warp our country has entered in the past year or two, but as of late it has become disgustingly apparent that this androgynous bullshit trend isn't going anywhere. For you troglodytes out there who don't know what androgyny is: it is basically being a man and a woman simultaneously just for fuck's sake. You know you have seen them, they are seemingly EVERYWHERE. I blame that gender-confused serial killer Barbie you idiots call a pop star "Lady Gaga." I mean, she does good by telling everyone its cool to be yourself and what not, but that doesn't mean go ham on your genitals and stuff them into a coin purse between your skinny jeans so you can appear to be a fucking robot to society. Enough already. Sorry your mother fed you her placenta after birthing you out her crusty lady hole. Get a journal and take out your angst and stop parading around as an eye sore to the publicly gender-confirmed.

The worst part is, after research [because all good writers do their research fools] I found that people actually $PAY$ these soulless shells of a human body a hefty sum of money to model for them. Like, making them.... famous... I am shuttering at the thought. Modeling agencies, actually hiring these assholes to stand there and just confuse everyone. Now don't confuse this with transgender, they are on a whole 'notha level of fuckery. These are people that are simply trying to pull off a "look." In my opinion your pulling of an old fashioned game of Guess Who?!

As much as I could spend on this, I actually have productive things still to do today, like ceiling tiles in the library and watch water boil. So in parting I will leave you with a little game you can play in your spare time, Guess the Gender [link at bottom], and don't ask me for the answers. I sure don't have 'em. And I hiiighly doubt Jesus does either these days. So good luck to you. Peace and shit.

http://mycouturemoda.blogspot.com/2011/01/androgynous-style-trend-2011-by-kittima.html

^^ Google can be scary, can't it now... ^^

Ahhh Shit Yeah! The Recent College Shenanigans Has Gone Mobile!

Finally discovered and App for my iPhone that allows me to blog on the go.... So expect more frequent cynicism from your favorite college blogger. Now unfortunately I don't have time to post anything too interesting here tonight... I'm too busy trying to look as least douchey as possible while sitting alone at a restaurant while waiting for friends. Wish me luck!

Shit Girls Say: College Bar Edition

So in recent weeks of trolling perusing the bars like I do so awesomely in my free time, I have had the pleasure of overhearing some pretty outrageously warped shit come out of the mouths of prima donna young women acrosst the state. So I thought I would dedicate this blog in their honor (or dishonor if we are being technical). So read the quotes below, my responses - which I unfortunately kept to myself - are regirgitated here [inside brackets like this]. Enjoy shitheads!

"Omg he's wearing an American Eagle shirt... he's either gay, poor, or still in high school. Let's get out of here!"

[you, sweet niave little bitch, are about as shallow as the gap between your teeth. Grow up or go home]

"Ew. Her highlights were SO done from a box she bought at Walgreens this morning."

[yeah... because YOUR hair doesn't look like you vomit orange juice and seaweed on your hair every morning.]

"I just don't understand why he won't talk to me?! What did I do wrong??"

[your breasts are small... that's a start, and well, me just being chauvinist. But to get to the root of the problem... try to stalk him less, you make the crime look like a sport]

"OMG BECCA!! THE WOP IS ON LETS DANCE!!!

[yeeeeeah... let's not. While watching you swing your arms like an angry giraffe swings its neck isn't the most entertaining thing, I'd rather swallow a brillow pad than watch you trip over your clown feet while trying to "dance" to a youtube song. Seek help here: http://adamjameson.blogspot.com/2011/05/dance-floor-is-not-your-therapist.html]

"EW, I think I just saw my lit professor at the side bar... He's probably a rapist"

[your ignorance seems to know no bounds... while I'm sure you are just paranoid because you were probably molested by your uncle - which would explain all the eyeliner. This doesn't justify you accusing every older man as a rapist you sloot.]

"If there's cover I am SO not going in this bar......... oh hey there's Mark!! HEY MARK! ...oh look I just found 5 dollars.. lets go in!"

[your parents must be so proud at how fiscally responsible your vagina isn't..]

"He wouldn't even pay for my vodka soda... he's totally gay.."

[yes I am SURE that's why he didn't pay for you drink... it couldn't possibly be that you look like an even fatter Rosie O'Donell with a botched nose job.]

aaaaand I digress... have a good week dick lickers!

"This Library is Not an Appropriate Place to Host a Christmas Party"

If you have ever been to college, or are currently attending college, then you know just how SIDEWAYS your ass gets thrown during the most stressful 3-5 days of a semester: FINALS WEEK!

I personally thrive on the excitement of all night aderral binges - cramming for tests over material you are completely clueless about -because no matter how many fucks you gave, accounting just never seemed to matter anyway. However, others do not share my enjoyment. This semester's library trip has been quite the interesting one. With my university's library being busier than a Vegas brothel on valentine's day, you can imagine how frustrating even finding a table to calmly sit and study at would be. Finally finding a perfect, quiet, well respected corner on the first floor, I cannot even open my notes until I am immediately disturbed by the setting up of the apparent fucking Christmas party in front of me. Yes, you read correctly... CHRISTMAS PARTY! IN LIBRARY! .....a;lsiugapgihwpoieagh;sdoigh!!!

Don't get me wrong... I love me some Crimuhh (new age hipster lingo for winter holiday celebrating birth of conventional Christian celebrity Jesus Christ) but of alllll the fucking places in this town to host a Christmas party, you assholes choose the library? Like, go to a fucking Starbucks you hooligan! A Dunkin' Donuts would even suffice for Christ's sake [no religious pun intended].

As the tables and chairs get pushed together, the casseroles unwrapped, and the gatorade coolers of coffee and tea propped up, I notice signs are being painted... SIGNS! FOR THEIR PARTY! Several moments later, much to my surprise, the girl with the mormon hair whips out a pair of roller skates, straps up, and makes the first floor of the library her personal roller rink. By now my face is glued wide in astonishment, as the chubby hipster guy straps on his in-line skates, and I am seconds away from psychotic screams of rage. Eventually I discover that it is NOT a Christmas party after all, it is some group of idiots calling themselves "Finals Friends" or some shitty alliteration of the sort. They are skating around the library advertising free coffee and snacks. What... the actual.. FUCK are you doing with your lives?! Do you not have finals? must be nice. Are you the local youth outreach program? If so their are crackheads and dumpster babies downtown that probably need your "snacks" more than we do.

Go away. Let me study. I am JUST trying to get a degree here people!!

Ironically enough, the campus police show up to order a cease and desist because according to the laws of this fine institution, you cannot give away free shit in a library that makes a reasonable profit off of it's coffe shops. SO SUCK ON THAT HIPSTERS!

Anyway.. I digress. I need to return to my studies, which are proving more difficult courtesy of the greasy banana troll next to me who keeps snorting and picking his boogers. But I will spare him a blog post rant and let me contract Hepatitis at his own pace.

Love, Peace, and Finals Week bitches!

Your Facebook Status Is Not A Prayer To God

Summer is drawing to an end, and so I return to blogging, pardon my absence - it's been a long one. I return with a pressing issue that faces many tweens, pre-teens, and youngster social network users and abusers. It seems that lately I have noticed many youthful facebookers and tweeters have decided that instead of keeping their worries and woes to themselves, they will just post their latest sally sob story on their preffered social website of choice. While we are all guilty of complaining online from time to time [pause for presently ironic realization] about our ups and downs, you my child have got some serious confusion about you, and your religous practice understandings.

No one really needs to see that you are upset that your BFF4L Cindy is being hospitalized for a mild, and perfectly treatable, case of bronchitis. Cindy will pull through this just fine without you sqwaking her business across the internet. Calm down tot, your friends gonna be alright. I don't think any one in the modern world should deem this type of internet usage appropriate. I mean, are you trying to use your computer as a conduit to Christ now? I think he can hear you just fine in the silence of your mid-pubescant brain.

I'm going to avoid veering off into a religious direction because no one likes to read anything fueled by someones political/religious bias. That's just pandering. But what I WILL do is tell you that your profile is bullshit. When every other status you post is about this cousin/friend/aunt/cat/chinese delivery man who's had some ill fate befall them... you begin to sound pretensious, like YOU have taken it upon yourself to be the local ePriest, or hell, the next "Dear Abby." Wel your not. You're a 14 year old prima donna sitting at your computer in your double wide with your prepaid Nokia cell phone in one hand and your GigaPet in the other, using your online profile to beg someone to pay you attention at the expense of someone elses misfortunes. Like, when you finally type out exactly what you want to say about Susie's car accident and how you hope she gets well soon... do you feel better about yourself? Because I sure don't.

Stop crying out loud, you're accomplishing nothing by telling Jonny "he will pull through this tragic roller coaster of bad fortune" on the internet. Do yourself, Jonny, and the rest of the people who's eyes you stab out daily, a huge favor... and go tell Jonny your fucking self!!

aaaaaannnndd... I digress.

Good day to you all.

The Dance Floor is Not Your Therapist

How severe do your "lack-of-daddy's-love" issues need to be for you to act like a whorish kangaroo at a bar? Do you realize what you look like to the general crowd? I am a strong supporter of getting liquored up and cutting loose, but you miss, are just an eye sore for a blind man. Stop asking me to buy you shots, the drool coming from your mouth while you talk is unattractive and reminds me of a semi-sedated ostrich. If you cannot party responsibly, then don't party at all. And by responsibly, I am referring to the responsibility you have to your dignity - which you clearly whittle down to a sliver as soon as your lips touch the tequila bottle.

Even better is when you start shouting loudly for people to join you on the dance floor. At least you KNOW being alone and looking like a loser is shameful. If you keep twirling your head around you are going to break your neck, much like a giraffe would when he fights off other giraffes. If it is attention you are seeking, you got it. But the attention you are getting is about the same kind of attention a nurse would give to a paraplegic lesbian who's overdosed on Splenda.

Good luck to you in your future endeavors miss. Running into you last night truly was worth the three dollars I paid to get into the bar that you clearly have confused for a mosh pit.