Posts Tagged ‘ How embarrassing ’

I Do My Own Stunts

Dudes, have you ever just been really fucking happy, for absolutely no reason? Well fucking try that shit out, because I am here to tell you it is pretty much the raddest of all the miraculous sensations [is happiness a sensation? I don’t know, I am not a scientist. But if I was a scientist I would wear safety goggles all the time so bitches would know about my Experiments. Also, I would probably be a bad scientist].

Now, I know nobody likes to read about somebody telling them how rad their life is, that shit is minus craic. I mean, you can be totally content and comfortable with every aspect of your life, but if someone comes along and makes you read 800 words centered on how fucking deadly they are, it’s gonna harsh your buzz. ‘Gee’, you will say [you are Bobby from all educational videos made in the 50’s, by the way], ‘I sure thought I was happy living here in this Moon Tower, but now that I know all about that sighting of a nun in a sex shop [true story, happy Monday], I just feel inferior.’

But also, I kinda want to share this rad feeling with everybody. SO- I have come up with a plan. Imma make every single one of you feel as happy as I do right now, and also make you feel much better about your lives in general. I will do this merely by relating some in real life true stories of how I am messing up my own life. Specifically, how I am messing up talking to girls.

Exciting, right? Prepare to be Validated:

OK, so you guys know I volunteered at TGEU this year, and had a rad time and you should all donate to TENI this second, right? Right. A thing most of you don’t know is that not only was there a ton of learning experiences to be had there, and a lot of friends to be made, and karaoke to be sung- dudes, there were also a ton of Babes.

Babes as far as the eye could see, if the eye could only see as far away as the other side of the building. And as we all know, I have supreme difficulty with talking to Babes. I can’t do it. I see a face, and I either run entirely out of words, or I run into too many. One time in Galway at a Socs day, I accidentally called a pretty girl a cunt, and to this day I do not know why or how I managed it.

What I am saying here is I have serious game.

Anyway, so on the first day I was working registration, and it was my job to sign people up for a bus home from Mother on Saturday night. Simple! I was the last person at the desk, so I made sure to scan the line ahead, in case of Babes, so I would have time to prepare what to say [I know for most people, saying the sentence ‘Do you want to get the bus home?’ comes naturally, but what can I say, I told you I had game]. Foolproof plan, right? And it worked perfectly until some people who were asking me difficult questions about line- dancing in Dublin made me lose my concentration.

I wrote their names down on my list of bus names, and looked up… And suddenly, the roof of the nursing building parted, and allowed a single stream of sunlight to glisten on the forehead of what can only be described as the most beautiful human being that has ever existed. Angels carved that face out of my dreams, and then sent it to register for a conference in DCU, and that is how I know god is a fan of LGBTQ people. That is how I know it for a FACT.

Of course while I was thinking that, the Most Beautiful Human was just standing there, probably wondering why I was gazing into their perfect eyes and drooling slightly [and attractively].

‘Oh shit!’ I thought, ‘Fucking say something! You gotta say something oh god what is happening this silence is too long SAY SOMETHING!’ and so I said something, and I said it loudly, and it was this:

‘BUS?!’

And then I died.

LOL JK I only WISHED I’d died. Instead what I did was just die internally, and that was almost as good. Eventually Bus [for of course, that became a nickname, with my friends that had no choice but to become a nickname] left, I have no idea if she ever signed up for the bus or not, but I do know this- my heart was already sad that she was leaving.

The next day, I engaged in such advanced flirting tactics as ‘hide under the table she is walking this way’ and ‘Oh shit pretend that these t shirts need to be folded again’. I was laying it on THICK. In hindsight, I don’t know why she didn’t fall for me there and then, I was being such a smooth criminal.

That night, there was a barbeque and karaoke, so naturally, we got drunk and skipped the barbeque, but arrived just in time to start the singalong party. I had a look around the bar, to see if Bus was there, so I could charm her by spilling a pint all over myself or something, but thankfully she was not, so when my mate said we should get up and do Gold Digger, I was like ‘Chalk It Down’.

And we got up, and it started, and we sang the first line before the whole audience of volunteers yelled ‘BUS’ at me… because of course that’s when she arrived. Nobody who walks in on you trying to rap along with Kanye will probably ever think you are cool again. Especially if the karaoke machine swaps the N word for ‘Figga’ and you don’t know how to process that. Should you sing anyway? I don’t know the rules.

The next night, long story short, I got very drunk at Mother and told her she was the most beautiful person I had ever seen in my whole life, and we danced for hours and it was rad as hell. So rad was it, that I woke up on Sunday with a big grin on my face, and the feeling that all was right with the world.

As we were tidying away all the t shirts and stuff in DCU before we left, I saw Bus walking towards me with a case. ‘You can handle this one, Dolan’ I thought to myself smugly, ‘You guys danced, you are done making a fool of yourself, and she’s about to leave with a pretty chill impression of you. Good job’. Now, for background information, I had spent the previous three days whooping and hollering and singing, so my voice was a low burr at this point. Only whales could hear me. And so it came as a huge surprise even to me when she said ‘Goodbye’, and flashed me a day- maker of a smile, and I replied ‘Bye, see you later!’, but with this guys voice:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p_baIGq_nAc

I’m cool.

Obviously, immediately after that, I had to go and share My Gay Shame with everyone, so I went back to the Nursing building, where all the volunteers were hanging out.

‘Guess who made a fool of themselves in front of Bus [I used Bus’s real neame] today?’ I yelled.

‘She’s sitting over there’ replied Ais, pointing to Very Much Nearby.

‘Guess who made a fool of themselves in front of Bus TWICE today?’ I replied, and I knew in that moment that up until then, I had only imagined the feeling of embarrassment, and that this right here, was the Real Deal. I also knew I would never feel anything even close to that level of shame again, and so I clung to that silver lining to prevent sinking into the earth.

And Iwas right, I haven’t felt like that since.

That is, until a couple weeks later when I wrote Ais a note to go with a thing I’d borrowed from her, and the note said ‘I spent most of last night making out with someone a day older than Dakota Fanning- NO REGRETS’, just to cheer Ais up, and she took a picture of it and put it on facebook for everyone to see , includingthe aformentioned girl who  responded with ‘tell her I’m loads older than Justin Bieber, it’s fine’, which is a fairly good reaction but STILL.

Because that’s my life, apparently. A series of incredible and awesome things, joined together with intense and semi- permanent blushes.

Thanks for listening. Have a rad day.

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Sexting 101

As promised, here is an article about sexting that would probably have gone up on College Times, had I not been forced to quit [see previous post]. This is one of only two sex columns I wrote that were not my idea, full credit for the concept must go to Jack O’ Connor.

 

 

 

 

Sexting, much like being really good at rollerblading or sitting outside Central Bank, is a thing that is only cool if you are a Cool Teen. For most of us, the urge to send a boobshot to someone because you feel like a wank fades away sometime around the time of the leaving cert results, never to pop up again until we are middle aged and running for some sort of political office.

 

Fig. 1: A Sext

 

 

 

It’s one of those things people only want to do when it’s highly inappropriate/ illegal, because once it becomes an OK idea, it also becomes a depressing one. Also, once you hit your 20’s, chances are you’re going to be thinking of the future, and you don’t want future employers googling you and finding a picture of your 16 year old butt [even if it does have a youthful complexion].

 

Fig. 2 A Sext

 

 

That being said, EVERYONE gets drunk, amiright? And sometimes, when we are very drunk and more than five metres away from someone we have had sex with, we feel like letting them know that we wanna do it again. Or maybe just taking a trip down memory lane, to the last time we boned. Sending naked pictures might be a bit passé, but our generation is famous for being nostalgic about the recent past, and alcohol usually makes us wanna think about sexytimes, rather than how awesome the Power Rangers were [Side Note: If you can combine these two things in a workable way, please be my girlfriend forever].

 

So, keeping that in mind, here are some Rules Of Sexting [or, for more examples of the art, please follow @rare_basement on twitter]

 

First of all, never sext someone you haven’t boned yet. I mean, you are already doing a silly thing, imagine how ridiculous texting someone ‘I wanna grab your boner parts’ would be if they actually HATED that? Total buzzkill. You have to know what they want to hear, otherwise you are just being a Creep. Nobody likes being a Creep.

 

 

Secondly, don’t immediately start with the hardcore stuff. Everyone knows that sexting is mainly about the Filth Factor, but if you open with it, there’s no surprise. Like, walking up to a girl in a club and immediately touching her genitals is not a good idea, is it? But you can totally work up to it, only if she wants, and that’s allowed. Sexting follows a similar principle, I think.

 

 

 

Another important rule is to spell everything properly, or as properly as drunk you can spell. The cool thing about being a grown up is that you can enjoy an adult sex life, free from the dangers of someone’s mother coming in. So take your time. Nobody has ever successfully rubbed one out to a message that had more numbers in it than letters. It’s not cool, you guys, if you wanna let someone know your serious, use your grown up alphabet.

 

 

Now, say you have just had a hot and heavy sexting session with your ladyfriend, and you feel like showing her your wonderful, vodka- scented body. That is totally allowed, and you will definitely regret it tomorrow but so what! Everyone has regrets, right? Just try to leave a little something to the imagination, if you can. And remember, every sexy picture you send out will end up on the internet eventually, that’s just how the world works.

 

 

That’s pretty much all the advice I have on the subject of Sexting. It’s a bit silly, but all sex is a bit silly, and actually going out and having sex is obviously a way better choice. But if you happen to find yourself distanced from the person whose genitals you admire most, then stick to the rules above and you should be fairly OK. And remember kids- Always Delete. You don’t want anybody else reading that shit, and more importantly, you almost definitely said something you will regret in the morning. It’s like a hangover for your phone!

 

Oh, and by the way, it’s definitely cheating if you use Siri. Poor Siri.

HAIR We Go Again

PUNS. I will never get over them.

 

This week, everyone is talking about body hair. Well, probably not everyone. I’m pretty sure my grandmother isn’t. But I bet if she knew what And Internet looked like she would be, because this place has just exploded with articles about that shit. I dunno why it is suddenly topical, I guess because it’s warmer and thus approaching that special time of year when you have to commit to a Summer Look, and for bazillions of girls everywhere that means pastel colours and hairless everywheres.

So I thought ‘Hey, I have a blog thing, maybe people wanna know how I feel about hair on ladies’. And then I thought ‘Of course they don’t, people only read your blog because they are searching for Amanda Brunker tit shots, it’s right there in your search terms. But it’s your blog, Fuck That Shit, do it anyway. It’s not like you get paid.’

And then I realised that if I was paid for writing this blog I would be the most deadbeat employee ever and y’all would have fired me by now.

Sorry mom, sorry god.

 

ANYWAY- we were talking about hairy bitches. Now, full disclosure, I do shave my legs and underarms, BUT I have a good reason for that, promise.

The reason is that I do not grow body hair very well. I grow body hair like teenage boys grow moustaches, patchily, over the course of several months, and the end result is still wicked unimpressive. I would legitimately love to wake up some day and have finally left puberty, with body hair all over the place that I could pointedly not shave and be proud of in the streets wearing shorts, that is The Dream. But alas, the reality is that if I don’t shave my legs, all that would happen would be that, after about a year, strangers would think I had some kind of mange or something. It is a genuine source of sadness in my life, almost as bad as my inability to grow even an unimpressive moustache.

But I love body hair on other ladies! for one thing, if you are a hairy lady, and are showing it off in public, guuuurl, Imma be checking you out all day long. You got confidence coming out the ass. If I see a lady in the street with a hairy armpit, I know she is not giving a single fuck. And to me, that pretty much means I wanna bone her. She knows what’s up [and yes I am talking about my metaphorical erection here].

BUT I know that avoiding sex with me is not the only reason ladies shave themselves. That’s probably only half the story. The other half is my girlfriend. She is totally into shaving, even though she knows I am all for her to be Wild and Free and Without Razor Burn. She’s like ‘That’s great for you and all, but this is how I like my body so this is how Imma keep it, Sound? Sound’ [I am totally paraphrasing A Lot here]. And you know what, that’s hella rad too, because she’s presenting [LOL] herself the way she wants to, and is not giving a single fuck about what I think. And that makes me wanna bone her, because confident ladies, amiright? I’m totally right.

 

Thus, here is the gist of All My Feels on the subject of body hair: If you are shaving your legs, and are thinking ‘Geez, this is awkward, and arduous, and fuck I just sliced my knee off AGAIN how embarrassing’, then don’t do it. It’s really stupid to do something you don’t wanna do just because everyone else is. People out there who are completely hairless because Sexy TV Ladies are completely hairless should try remember that Sexy TV Ladies are only hairless because Porn Ladies are hairless, and Porn Ladies are only hairless so you can properly see their ladyparts on camera, and basing any of your lifestyle on what a porn director wants to see is probably a really terrible call in life. BUT people who are completely hairless because it makes them feel good and they like it and they think it’s properly sexy should go ahead and do whatever the fuck they want.

I do reckon everyone should try being hairy at least once. There was a lady on TV this week who was all ‘check it, I didn’t know how it felt to have my own hair until I was 26’, and that’s a bit fucked, isn’t it? Like, I dunno, if you had a garden you wouldn’t get rid of the lawn unless you’d seen what it looked like first, would you? That’d just be stupid. This analogy is wicked literal.

Ultimately, it’s all about how sexy you feel. The truth is, if you are seconds from boning someone, they are not gonna change their mind because you have hair. Nobody has ever done that in the history of ever, and if they do, who the fuck wants to bone somebody who gets all the way to the naked part and then flakes over something stupid like landscaping? Nobody, that’s who. That guy was definitely not a catch.

Basically, it’s all about what makes you feel rad, as a dude or a girl or a whatever the hell you want. Hair is rad, and so is none, we are living in a diverse world, you guys. Be the raddest you you can be, and your bodyfuzz will never be an  issue, swears.

Plus, there’s  a ninety percent chance Imma wanna bone you anyway