writingonblogswithgirls

[writingonblogswithgirls]

I don’t often laugh when I’m alone. Despite how liberally I may have used the term “LOL” in the past, there are only a few things on the Internet that have made me laugh until my stomach hurts, I’m choking, and actual tears are rolling down my face. One of them was the beautiful image above. The only other one I can remember right now is Kristin Chenoweth’s Ambien tweets. 

[writingonblogswithgirls]

Leslie and I started talking about online dating tonight and it's basically the best/funniest conversation I've had all week.

#leslieleslie #wobwg #alex-lately #chats #texts

[writingonblogswithgirls]

Duh.

#music #wobwg #listen!! #the avett brothers

[writingonblogswithgirls]

Pumpkins Beers, colored leaves, and cool autumn breezes: all things that everyone looks forward to in September. But most importantly, college football is just around the corner! That’s right, break out your jerseys, your koozies, and your game face!  Not a tailgating pro? No sweat, I made you a really simple rule book on how to be the best tailgater you can be, all the while being a proper lady! Just follow these simple steps and you’ll be ready!

  Disclaimer: Don’t follow these rules if you have any respect for yourself/fun.

Never, any under circumstances, funnel a beer. No matter what time it is, no matter that you’re going to be in a stadium with thousands of other people in a place called Death Valley, where you’re dying of thirst and craving another Bud Light and all you can get is an overpriced Sprite.  A lady only sips her beer.

 Avoid condiments. I know, I know! Hamburgers! Hot dogs! All of the BBQ!  That ketchup and mustard looks so good over there, but just say no. Chances are you’re going to get more on your dress than on your meat. Plus! Dry hamburgers are have less calories!

Now, Lady, keep your gloating to a minimum. So what? So what that you just won your 8th straight game of flip cup, a lady never brags. Congratulate the other players instead! Pat them on the back! And, whatever you do, avoid phrases like, “suck it douche bags."

 In general, keep your mouth clean. No cursing! Yes, it is Thanksgiving weekend. Yes you are playing your biggest rivals! Yes their mascot is a Gamecock.  A lady never uses anything out of context, especially when referring to an opponent for just a silly game of football.

Don’t get obscure with your music choices. Only play Dave Matthews Band, Lil Wayne, or Tobey Keith while tailgating. They have great songs that never get old!

There you go! You’re ready. Now all you need is a ticket to the game! Try the scalpers! They usually sell you really great seats in the nosebleeds for only an arm and leg.

                          Kailee wrote this and is so excited for football and is probably not the best person to give you a piggy back ride.

#tailgates! #football! #pumpkin beers!

[writingonblogswithgirls]

Today on Twitter, Leslie and Haley are having an important conversation.

(Here's the article linked in Haley's tweet, about a little girl who is actually super awesome.) 

#leslie #haley #Twitter #Tweets #WoBwG #hair #laziness

[writingonblogswithgirls]

Somebody slap me for being so unforgivably stupid: I hadn't seen Reality Bites (viewable on Netflix Instant, FYI) until last night. But it's okay, everything's right with my world now. The above image became my desktop background approximately three minutes after the credits rolled. 

I was only five when the movie hit theaters in the summer of 1993, a good 15 years too young for it. But it feels a hundred times more relevant to my life than comparable movies from recent years. Nostalgia for the 90s is rampant, ever growing, and well deserved; can you count on your fingers the number of times you've engaged in a passionate "old Nickelodeon was so much better" conversation, or do you have to move on to your toes? 

As I catch up on my Generation X movies (others recently crossed off the list include Empire Records and Heathers), I start to feel nostalgic for a teenagerdom and young adulthood that I didn't technically live. As much as I adore Mean Girls -- my generation's glitzier and less violent evolution of Heathers -- how relevant to my experiences did it actually feel? If we're being honest... not very. 

For me, it comes down to the women. Which makes sense, because duh I am a woman, but also because this genre of film almost exclusively focuses on women and how they relate to the world in that moment. Lelaina and Vickie, Corey and Gina, Cady, Juno, Sam, Summer -- they are the center points in these stories. Even when we view them through the eyes of a male protagonist, they are the focus. The culture portrayed revolves around them, is informed by them. 

So when it comes down to it, these Generation X Movie chicks? They just feel more real to me, and thus their world feels more like world I actually live in. I don't sense so strongly that they are being packaged and sold to me. They don't wear their personality traits like big shiny badges - "I'm Quirky and Adorable!" "I'm Shallow and Plastic!" They seem less like a canvases or platforms or representatives, and more like people.

I've never met someone who quips like Juno or quirks like Zooey. But when Vickie looks into Lelaina's camera and goofily slurs, "Sometimes I get that not-so-fresh-feeling," I feel like this is a girl I could meet at a bar tomorrow night and joke with over a Rolling Rock. And would very much like to, if I could.

--

Haley hopes you understand how much she still really, really loves Mean Girls. 

#haley #WoBwG #reality bites #movies #90s #opinion #netflix instant

[writingonblogswithgirls]

A Moscow court has sentenced three members of Pussy Riot to two years in prison for hooliganism motivated by religious hatred and enmity.

The Judge said they showed flagrant disregard for the church parishioners and the fundamentals of the Orthodox faith.

“By their actions, Samutsevich, Tolokonnikova and Alyokhina seriously disrupted public order and the day-to-day running of the Cathedral. They showed blatant disrespect to church-goers and workers, and in doing so gravely offended their religious sensibilities,” Judge Syrova said.

Some 100 foreign journalists, including those from countries likes Japan and Australia, gathered at Khamovnichesky Court on Friday to report on the judge’s verdict.

The trial has sharply divided Russian society, with many debating punishment for the group over the infamous ‘punk prayer’ they performed in Moscow’s Christ the Savior Cathedral. There is intense public interest in the long-awaited verdict.

Two years for hooliganism. Crazy.

[writingonblogswithgirls]

Hope y'all didn't miss out on these laughs.

[Previously] [WOBWG is on Twitter!]

#Tweets #Twitter #WoBwG

[writingonblogswithgirls]

This blog, among other things, strives to promote a sense of positivity and empowerment in the female community, as well as -- ya know -- the general community! Therefore, the ladies of WOBWG know that an important component of that goal is the respect and admiration for our male counterparts. Therefore, we would like to do our part today in celebrating the men of these great interwebs by bringing you our Internet Man of the Week.

This week: Daym Drops was, obviously, the only acceptable candidate. Undoubtedly, you've seen him making the rounds this week -- reminding us how fantastic Five Guys Burgers are & getting autotuned. He's perfect and fun & has made us laugh at our desks while the time slowly inches by!

We're hopping on this bandwagon & loving you, Daym Drops! Stay beautiful.

_______________

If you know a man worthy of next week’s IMOTW, please submit all nominees here.

#daym drops #IMOTW #WoBwG #video

[writingonblogswithgirls]

Sure,

one day [soon-ish], I’ll move out of my parents house and stop going to dinners called “One Night In Spain!” where there are four courses of Spanish foods, five different Spanish wines, and flamenco dancers & getting really drunk, forgetting how I got into bed, waking up at five a.m.—still drunk—and having to sober up faster than any human possibly has so that I could drive to work and semi-function today.

One day, I’ll stop doing all of those things. Unfortunately, until that day actually rolls around, I’ll just say that I think everyone should move back in with their parents after college.

Sure, you can save some dolla bill$ because you won’t have to do things like pay rent, buy groceries, buy booze, scrounge for quarters for the laundromat, etc. But mostly because, in all honesty, there’s nothing funnier or more fun than doing hoodrat shit with your friends fam’.

#WoBwG #alex #alex-lately #hood rat shit

[writingonblogswithgirls]

We wanna answer your questions, about anything!

#ask

[writingonblogswithgirls]

Ottoman | Vampire Weekend

#Audio #Vampire Weekend #BEST SONG

[writingonblogswithgirls]

In like a lamb, out like a lion

Summer in Columbia, Missouri, always started in early May. The humidity sets in a few days before the heat and refuses to break until sometime in September. May 15, 2010, was certainly no exception. My graduation gown seemed to flow especially beautifully to spite the heavy air as I walked across the parking lot outside of my apartment to my grandmother’s idling, Buick sedan. My cap sat on my head at just the right angle and my fraternity cords swung playfully in the breeze. We drove the couple of miles to my alma mater’s largest arena accompanied by thick traffic and excited chatter.

We pulled into the athletic complex later than scheduled, so I was dropped off at the door to go check in. My family went to park, I turned toward the entrance, and made eye contact with a small, mostly Native American boy with large lips. Very, very large lips. He did his best to skirt the glance, I could see shame in his eyes.

Before I donned my robe, before I had even showered that morning, I found myself walking out of one of Mizzou’s residence halls. Freshmen were pouring onto the lawn in droves in front of parents with strained faces and armfuls of dormwear. I was wearing the same clothes I had been out in the night before and it was very obvious that I did not belong among the throngs of underclassmen, on their way home for the summer, to spend three months wishing they were back in the town they’d come to love.

I stepped onto the roundabout pathway back to my apartment, a hearty six block jaunt adjacent to campus, and immediately felt queasy. With each step, the decisions of the previous night came back to haunt me more and more venomously. Until my body reached the golden tipping point that so many other collegiate binge drinkers had felt time and time before. I ran for the nearest trash can and vomited with such tenacity that I should have won an Olympic medal. Right outside of a freshman dorm. The morning I was to graduate.

The night before, I had decided to go, one last time, to one of Columbia’s two gay bars. This one catered better to the college crowd despite being further from campus than the seedier establishment. One of my best friends, Cory, and I had haunted the establishment many nights that we hardly remember. When I was 20, he would go with me on Thursday nights, when there was an 18+ drag show, and often sneak me drinks. True friendship. But this time, I was a month and nine days north of 21, so we decided to go on what might be our last night in town, our last night together.

We pregamed at his apartment, which was much closer to the bar than mine, like we had done so many times before. Half-a-bottle of vodka that he or I had picked up at the grocery store for the occasion later, we were discussing our collegiate sexual regrets. My biggest regret was that I didn’t have a lot of them. There was the backyard beej on my 20th birthday, Scott the manwhore, and pinky dick, but three for the three years I spent in undergrad really seemed like a disappointment. I honestly don’t remember what Cory’s were. He and I had one in common, though, that didn’t fit the category very well. We both regretted not fucking a boy by the name of Jake.

We suspected that he would be at the bar that night as well, so we made it a goal for one (or both) of us to hook up with him before we graduated. Cory and I got into my silver subcompact car and set out. I drove with the windows down, tipsier than I should have been behind the wheel, but really feeling freer than I ever had - classes were over and I was less than 24 hours from walking across the stage. Just enough time to remedy a regret or make one last.

We got to the bar and followed our normal course of action, leading us further and further away from sobriety. Cory was notoriously a lightweight, and as such he took the lead when Jake and his friends walked into the bar. We stumbled over to them and while Cory was talking to Jake, I started talking to his friend. His small, mostly Native American friend with large lips.

Columbia is a town of about 110,000 when classes are in session, the university making up about 33,000 of those people. The collegiate gay scene was very, very small despite this. There were a group of us that everyone seemed to know, for better or for worse. Arthur’s friend, Bryan, and I were in that minority. I’m not sure how or why I was, but Bryan was because he was the sitting president of the University of Missouri College Republicans. He was the natural final notch in my college bedpost.

The courting process, for those of you familiar, was aided greatly by alcohol and fueled by his friends telling him it was a bad idea. We piled into the back of a mousy homosexual’s equally subcompact Ford and headed back to campus. I was officially out of my element and loving every second of it.

He was an RA at one of the freshmen dorms. I had to sneak in, the night before I left college for good, to a residence hall across the street from where I spent my first year of school. He had a playful attitude and it took me some effort to bed him, but I finally placed my crown upon THE HEAD of the young Republicans. To this day, I’m surprised there weren’t tears from either party - pride and joy for me, shame for him.

I woke up before he did and realized where I was and what I’d done. I threw back on my loudly patterned button down and jeans and hightailed it out of there. I had two hours to get home and present myself to my family as a high functioning college graduate. Stopping only to free a few demons along the way.

When our eyes met several hours later, I couldn’t help but laugh. He wasn’t graduating yet, but he was there to watch his brother walk across the stage. After the ceremony, I walked out of the arena with my sister and once again saw Bryan, this time across the parking lot. We made eye contact the second time that day and I waved while he picked up his pace. My sister asked me who I was waving at. When I told her his position, the most she could muster was a chuckle and “...you didn’t did you?”

In like a lamb, out like a lion.

#submission #reader submission #WOBWG #paulhphillips

[writingonblogswithgirls]

The Friday Night Catch-Up

This week on WOBWG:

Haley listed way to quell your homebound crazies.

Alex confessed a foot-related would-be crime.

Haley reported a foot-related actual (?) crime.

High quality tweets were tweeted.

High quality writers were called upon.

Kailee dumped out her purse for us...

and recalled Thirsty Thursdays of days gone by.

This week's other internet news:

Cops strip search a woman for rolling through a stop sign & rip out her tampon? [Jezebel]

We could have all been buying shots for JonBenet Ramsey this week. [Jezebel]

How to job hunt in the summer. [Forbes]

The George Zimmerman lawyers majorly fucked up. [The Smoking Gun]

Kris Jenner probably also had a hand in distributing the Kim/Ray J sex tape: no one in the world is surprised whatsoever. [RumorFix]

We've all been salivating over the Arrested Development cast filming again. [Just Jared]

Feeling Bad About Your Weight is Making You Fat. [Jezebel]

Some bigoted asshole set fire to the lawn of General Mills for supporting gay marriage. [The Smoking Gun]

Harry Belafonte thinks we all should give a shit on his ill feelings towards the philanthropy of Jay & Bey. [Crunk + Disorderly]

We're all scared for Naomi Campbell's locks. [Cityrag]

Kim Kardashian is having an adverse affect on Ye, who's rumored to have had Skrillex -- OF ALL PEOPLE -- on his next album. Possible need for earplugs at an all time high. [Rolling Stone]

WHO'S EXCITED FOR SUNDAY!?!? [TooFab]

Good reads of the week:

I Was a Teenage Hacker. [Gizmodo]

Mitt 'Corporations Are People' Romney Defends Tax Privacy by saying 'I'm Not a Business' . [Death + Taxes]

Dwight Howard goes to the Lakers. [LATimes] Lakers & Heat tied for most insufferable basketball team on the planet Earth.

How to Fake Being the Perfect Employee. [Forbes]

Adam Yauch's Will Prohibits Use of His Music in Ads. [BBC]

Watching A Spectacular Public Meltdown With Just a Hint of Jealousy [NYTimes]

#friday night catch-up #WOBWG #click thrus #clickables #links #weekly catch up #news #writings #good reads

[writingonblogswithgirls]

Remember Thirsty Thursday?

Most of us over at WoBwG are out of college now, but tonight I was just thinking about how perfect it was to live in a college town and drink $1.50 Bud Lights every Thursday night with some of your best friends. 

For me, that meant sitting in a booth with people's names and insults and memories scribbled all over it, listening to a guy in tight jeans and a baseball hat sing acoustic covers of Hank Williams songs. There were also a lot of one dollar jello shots. 

Regardless, I think Thursday nights were some of my best memories. One of them ended with one of my best friends getting punched in the face by a complete stranger for no apparent reason. The other, with Leslie and I, underage (with X's on our hands), listening to two men on keyboards sing horrible cover songs. 

I want to hear your best Thirsty Thursday stories! What about you? What was your favorite Thirsty Thursday?

#Reader Feeback! #Let's all get drunk and go back to college!

[writingonblogswithgirls]

My Bag.

1. A wallet. It even has a change purse that is a refuge for all lost bobby pins and pennies.

2. Lotion, because no one likes an ashy lady.

3. One earring. Its partner accidentally fell down the toilet and is now probably in the Atlantic Ocean. Yes, I accidentally flushed it down the toilet. Yes, I'm an idiot.

4. Sunglasses!

5. Multivitamins because I don't want to have a hunchback when I'm old!

6. Essie fingernail polish that I've literally used once. I'm a basic girl and this color is outside my box.

7. Lipstick because I kiss a lot of boys.

8. Safety pins. I literally can't go anywhere without them. I am MacGyver.

9. Neosporin. Because I get hurt a lot, and I'll be damned if I get a scar!

10. Moleskin sketchbook and some drawing pencils because I'm an artsy bitch.

11. A bottle of water because I'm a thirsty bitch.

12. Sharpies, because you never know when you're going to be in a situation where you need to draw on a drunk person's face.

13. A Noda Brewery koozie! It's from a local brewery in Charlotte and it's cute and orange and beer is my favorite.

14. Moisturizer. Gotta keep my baby face fresh!

                               These are the contents of Kailee's bag and regardless of the items, she is actually only 24 years old and not 74.

#What's in your bag?! #Kailee

[writingonblogswithgirls]

1997 Jam of the Day Robyn - Show Me Love

Part two in the WOBWG series that aims to prove that 1997 was the greatest year the music industry ever knew, this classic from our girl Robyn is just about my speed for this drizzly Thursday afternoon. I'm having lady pains and I don't want to do anything at all, but now I'm listening to Robyn and I'm nodding and I'm jamming a little and okay, maybe I'll get of my butt and go to the gym. Thanks Robyn!

#1997 jam of the day #1997 #jams #haley