Your perfect Quaker could be out there!
Every year, as classes come to a close, I think “Oh crap. Another year at Penn, and I have yet to find a future hubby. 50% of couples meet in college! Where the eff is the Jay-Z to my Beyonce?!”
I’ve had the same ranty, bitter, circular conversations with countless Penn females, discussing the dearth of great guys.
Someone shares a tale of their latest encounter with Penn male douchebaggery and we, Penn girls, are off: “Penn guys are such self-obsessed whores. They think they’re God’s gift to the world. And they aren’t even cute.” One of my friends summed up. “Penn guys are specimens of below-average looks and above-average arrogance.”
After three years at Penn, a few months of writing this blog and a couple honest conversations with my guy friends, I’ve come to a shocking realization: Penn boys and girls HATE each other, mutually. Continue reading
“The Princess and the Frog,” Disney’s first movie with a black Princess—Finally!! I’m clearly being her for Halloween ’09—follows Tiana, a Princess from New Orleans on a journey to find happiness with a Prince who has been turned into a frog. There is one drastic difference between this story and the rest of those told by Disney.
Our beautiful black Princess ends up with the very chiseled and sexy Prince Naveen from the made-up land of Maledonia. He’s played by a Brazilian actor. He has an Indian name. But, look at the photo. Dude is tan, but he’s white. Blogs and articles have been buzzing about the reasons behind this choice, but it is evident: interracial dating, by animated and real-life characters alike, is a hot topic. Continue reading
If you think it would suck to be an impoverished child in a third world country tasked with slaving away to make sneakers or overcoats for the first world, imagine being a starving child tasked with making penis shaped pool floats or assless chaps for the Western World. You don’t have toilet paper or dinner, but some chick in Milan has the leopard print negligee you spent 10 minutes embroidering. Continue reading
Anyone who knows me knows I love animals. Most especially men, puppies and penguins, but generally, I have nothing but affection for all animals. That being said, I can’t ever imagine wanting to use the services of Revenge Crabs dot com, a site that promises to help you get revenge on your not-so-loved ones by shipping colonies of public lice you can infest them with.
First of all, I think the site’s pricing is a bit exploitive: $298 for some bugs? Puh-lease. There are much cheaper ways to get an STI just four of five blocks west of FroGro. Getting heartbroken/emotionally unstable people to spend what is, for many, nearly a week’s pay on pubic lice strikes me as a little sketchy.
Further, though the site promises that infesting someone with pubic lice is legal in all fifty states, I can’t imagine a breakup situation in which giving the ex pubic lice would be strategically advantageous. No matter what they did during the relationship, you will always be the immature dick who infested them with crabs. Good luck getting mutual friends to “side” with you after that one.
If you really can’t resist the urge to bestow someone with a venereal ailment, I suggest you check out Giant Microbes, a site that sells plushy, stuffed microbes. They’re cheaper than your own pubic lice colony and you’ll only be kind of an ass if you gift them.
Say hello to “Moaning Lisa,” the sexy robot to whom you can give an orgasm. She screams, too. This just takes the idea of the blow-up doll to a whole nother, even creepier level. If that’s possible.
Ever wonder if playing the guitar outside your crush’s dorm could be considered flirtatious? The folks over at Am I Flirting? a blog dedicated to helping you figure out if your wayward glance or awkward joke about his biceps are flirtatious say “absolutely”. They had this to say to in response to chump who wrote in asking “Am I flirting if I play the guitar in her general vicinity?”
This question is older than time, older than Dire Straits, and almost as old as guitars themselves. If that guy on the steps of his apartment building or out on the campus lawn just wanted to practice some Jack-Johnson-ass modern rock hits, he would do it in his room. That’s not going to happen, though, because that destroys his chances of being able to casually refer to a passing girl’s body as “a wonderland” without getting spit on.
If that guy is you, you should be aware that you’re emitting a semi-spherical aura of flirtation. Casting a wide net has its pluses and minuses. Plus: if you’re talented and not obnoxious, you could potentially strike up some good, productive conversations. Minus: if you’re either a horrible musician or a really skeevy individual, EVERYONE CAN HEAR YOU. The moral of this story is that flirting is hard work, which means you might have to actually practice music and/or basic hygeine before you take your game out in public. Continue reading
Today, I came across some of the most disturbing, yet intriguing footage I’ve seen in a very long time. “Green Porno,” the brainchild of Isabella Rossellini, Italian actress, filmmaker, philanthropist and model, allows her to dress up as different types of marine creatures and discuss their mating and reproductive rituals. That, in and of itself, is wacked, but the fact that Isabella Rosellini looks, acts and speaks like an extra-terrestrial, even when she’s not dressed as a starfish or right whale (with a 6-foot erection), makes it all the more frightening. Continue reading
Penn during Spring Fling is like Las Vegas during the entire year. Anything goes. You want to wear booty shorts, neon glasses, a fanny pack and a basketball jersey? Go for it. It’s Fling!
You want to turn Van Pelt into Van Party and grind with your fellow Quakers on top of The Button, while a DJ spins “Blame it on the Alcohol?” Sure. It’s Fling!
You want to fling your Blackberry into the toilet of G-Lounge in Center City at Castle’s Fling Kickoff Party? Meh. It’s FLINGGGG!!!!!! The amount of debauchery that goes down during those two days, is unprecedented, and the hookup stories are just as juicy. Continue reading
At 14, I was moved to enter into a “relationship” with an unattractive, socially awkward geek in my “Modern World Literature” course almost exclusively because he repeatedly complimented me on my humorous and insightful analysis of Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart.
At that point in my life, there was little I wanted more than general recognition of what a wunderkind I was; I was happy to trade in my singleness for frequent reassurances of my genius. Since then, I’ve watched friends exchange their bodies and hearts for sexual pleasure, social advancement, flowers on important holidays, an apartment in the Princeton University graduate housing complex, assurance of their physical attractiveness and help getting over a particularly painful breakup.
Obviously, no one is going to engage in behavior/a relationship that they don’t think is going to benefit them in some way. When love and dating are so explicitly tied to material/social interactions can we really say that we “upstanding romantics” are really all that different from streetwalkers? Continue reading
Franz Boas II
Just in case the fear of birthing the next Hitler isn’t enough to inspire you to wrap it up, let me introduce you to MakeMeBabies.com—the website that can turn your worst nightmare (or very creepiest daydream) into a jpeg reality. Though I have not used the site to create images of children I have any chance of conceiving, I did have a delightful time digging up cute photos of anthropology-superstars Franz Boas and Lewis Henry Morgan.
You submit two photos (one of you, one of your partner) answer some questions about whether you’d like a boy or a girl and voila—freaky composite baby photo.