It’s My 2-Year Blogiversary

(Not much has changed. I might actually be less funny and relevant now. But I’m older, so ya know… silver linings.)

Two years ago today (well, technically it was August 2nd but let’s not bust balls), I wrong my first blog post for this dumb little site all because my dad said that I wouldn’t follow through with it. So much beauty sprung from spite.

It’s like a poem.

My first post was pretty bad. I rambled on for multiple paragraphs about lion terrorists and how I peed myself in my car and looking back, I have to wonder what the hell was I thinking? That girl sounded like she was on drugs and honestly she probably was.

Throwback to when I first started writing here. Sure, the crazy is poignant, but I was so thin… Is health and sanity really worth it?

 

I’ve been reading through my old posts and there are some creepy coincidences happening with events from this time in 2014 mirroring events now. For instance, just a couple days ago I stepped on ANOTHER nail and it went through the SAME FLIP FLOPS!!!! And the ex boyfriend who got his girlfriend pregnant literally 2 years ago is back with that girl and she’s pregnant AGAIN!!! (Not with his baby, but that’s none of my business…) Then there’s the whole Ice Bucket Challenge thing which nobody talked about since summer of 2014 and suddenly it’s back in the news again because it worked. I wrote a post concerning my advice and general thoughts on college 2 years ago and wrote another advice article for college kids called “A Letter To My Freshman Self” just this past week!!!

Mind = blown.

Anyways, as I’ve looked over the vast empire of bullshit I’ve built these past two years, I’ve noticed that you all seem to really like reading about the stupid stuff I get into when I get drunk and sad, so you’re all basically reveling in my sorrows and addictions. Shame. On. You. I wag my finger in your general direction. You also have a deep interest in drinking games you can play by yourself which tells me two things: 1) I need to write another post with new and improved solo-drinking games, and 2) A lot of you must be drinking alone or at least enough that it might be a problem so I understand the need to commiserate.

Exactly.

Another thing I used to do a lot is list a few choice search terms that led people to my blog, and no matter how long I write on the internet, I’ll never get used to the crazy, funny, and mostly disgusting phrases typed into search engines. (I clearly use the word “bitch” waayyy too much so the blame is partly on me.) Now without further ado, here’s some search terms that somehow brought you here in 2016 so far:

1. solo drinking games; drinking games to play alone; drinking games to play by yourself; one person drinking games  (You see what I mean?)

2. do i go banging on peoples doors asking for them to suck my penis america?
(Fabulous)

3. your pussy aint worth the fames you playing  (I don’t understand what it’s saying, but somehow my feelings still hurt.)

4. teens kitten twitter  (I realize this seems harmless, but I don’t trust it.)

5. fuck yall all i need is jesus

6. officially bullshit  (Refer to my “Bullshit” post.)

7. i just love my all fucking haters

8. twitter typical white girl funny scary video of phone ringing in bed (…What??)

9. what does the expression mean when they say i’m not always a bitch just kidding go fuck yourself  (This should be self-explanatory, I’m disappointed in whoever wrote this.)

10. dee you bitch  (Lol, an “Always Sunny” reference never fails to warm my heart.)

11. guess who’s not going back to high school  (Frenchie? But seriously, take that guy’s advice: “Turn in your teasing comb and go back to high school.”)

12. bitch am not into you  (…Whatever, I’m not into you either. Mean.)

So there you go. Two years of bullshit and not much has changed. Keep an eye out for my next drinking game post because I might do another giveaway with money and giftcards and perhaps a featured blogger contest.

Thanks again for being a part of the nonsense with me all this time. Come for the pumpkin spice, stay for the unadulterated crazy.

 Later taters! ;)

 

 

Shutupshutupshutup.

(Also, shut up.  Everybody’s got an opinion, and frankly, I don’t care about them.  Except you guys’ opinions.  Because you matter and aren’t assholes.)

Pretty much everybody in my life are being dicks recently and I’ve been daydreaming about buying them all plane tickets to some remote island with a badass 5-star resort (all-expenses-paid-type-deal) but then tell the pilot to drop them all off and leave them there and then they find out there’s no resort or actual phones or internet or boats and they just have to all be together with their dickishness.

This is what I imagine it would look like.

Then, after a suitable amount of time to suffer my wrath and my irony, they would be allowed to come back and never criticize me again because of my epic superpowers and leader-of-the-world-ness which I plan to gain via Faustian bargain.

This plan is foolproof.

So who would you send to Penis Island and why?  Also, should this be a real place?  (I think it is actually.)  Let me know in the comments about the dicks in your life.  Love y’all :)

“Another Pretty Little Liars Discussion with Alanna”

Jessie and I once again discuss the madness that is Pretty Little Liars and hate on the writers. (Really. Like, why even bother telling us who “A” is if you’re just gonna take a dump on us?)

If This Blog Was A Baby, Social Services Would Have Taken It By Now.

(Maybe if the father was around, we wouldn’t be in this situation. I blame the system. And Penn State. Because when in doubt, blame Penn State.)

So it’s finally March and I’m hoping that the crippling darkness and cold will pass so I can once again emerge from my cave and rejoin humanity. Although I hope humanity gets hit in the head with a frying pan and gets out of this alternate state wherein they care about stupid shit.

Like the color of a goddamn dress. And 99.9% of what happens on Facebook.

There are more important things going on in the world. (LIKE TWO BLACK PARENTS GIVING BIRTH TO A WHITE BABY!!! WHAT IN THE ABSOLUTE FUCK?!?! If there was any proof of the apocalypse, this would be it.)

Also, someone out there tricked me into seeing child pornography. The kid found my phone number somehow and snapchatted me a picture of his penis. Which begs the question…

DO I SEEM LIKE THE KIND OF PERSON YOU CAN SEND PICTURES OF YOUR DICK TO?!?!?!

(I pray the answer is “no”.)

Especially penises who are under 18. So if any of you jokers out there think you should, be advised: I will kill you. Because I refuse to be an “accidental felon”. If there is any crime to commit, it shall be my own choice. To paraphrase Eleanor Roosevelt, no one can make you a criminal without your consent.

No, no, no. Eminem wags his finger at you.

In other news, Pennsylvania is an unfortunate place to live. Don’t come here. I totally got shafted trying to VOLUNTEER for Tom Wolf’s inaugural ceremony because I’m not a registered Democrat. I literally wasn’t allowed to volunteer because I’m a Republican. How much bullshit is that?! 

A lot of bullshit. Is the answer to that question.

Plus, I’m buried in homework and almost out of oxygen. Because college is terrible.

But on the bright side, Pennsylvania has finally privatized the sale of liquor and stuff, so now I don’t have to go to the stupid state store which is always closed. And Spring Break starts on the 8th, so I’ll finally have some time to write on here again and possibly clean out my thousands of unread emails.

Anyways, thanks for hanging in there while I viciously neglected you all. Hopefully circumstance doesn’t kill me and I reclaim my life soon. The other night, I got super drunk and bought $40 worth of nail polish and a Wallflowers CD on Amazon. Be careful out there.

The end is near…

Is That “Where’s The Beef?” Lady Still Alive? Because We Can Tell Her To Stop Looking.

(I’ve found the beef. It’s all around me. I could grill burgers with everyone I know.)

But oh wait, I can’t…

BECAUSE I HAVE BEEF WITH LIKE ALL OF THEM.

Yessirree, my lucky streak with making friends is alive and well. Everywhere I go people break up, get into fights, and are covered in boils.

(But that’s not because of me. It’s because God hates me and sends the Plagues of Egypt to my life.)

(Make sure to paint your doorframe in sheep’s blood.)

I totally went back on the whole “Machiavellian” thing and trusted people I should not have. Once again, I attempted to bring people together and it ended in madness.

At least I know I don’t have a career in matchmaking.

Also, why do I surround myself with men who like to fight one another? I mean, can’t they just be like women? Say passive-aggressive insults to each other and talk shit behind their backs? It’s much easier and it doesn’t involve me LOSING MY GODDAMN MIND!!!!!!!!

I may not have a lot of closely-held principles, but I do live by one rule: if you hurt someone I love, you’re dead to me.

So am I going to forgive these people? ….

I still don’t visit the imaginary grave of a kid who called my best friend “Harry Potter” in the first grade, just because she had a bowl cut and round glasses. I saw this kid’s ghost all the way through high school and never acknowledged it.

Even when I bumped into it in the hallway, knocking his ghost-books all over the place.

(Why a ghost needs books, I’ll never know, but it must be a common thing considering my books are always scattered all around my attic. Where the ghosts live.)

Regardless, I’m really beginning to think no one should hang around me EVER. It’s not good for anyone. I’m like a human sitcom except it’s not all that funny.

But people are just lucky I don’t seek revenge and everything is illegal because of the feminization of our society. I can’t even be like, “TRY THAT SHIT AGAIN AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS.” Cause bitches be bitches and they’d go tell on me. So I’m just gonna have to stew in my anger and chill in my house all like this:

I blame Nixon.