You look familiar; maybe we’ve had a class together? Or maybe you’ve fucked me in a nearby bathroom after I heard some of your acoustic guitar… one of the two. What can I say? I’m a sucker for shitty played John Mayer songs and I, of course, mean that quite literally. Nothing turns me on more than a man strumming a guitar or sharing his feelings, which explains how my demographic is responsible for Jack Johnson having a career. I do have a bunch of John Mayer albums though, along with every other materialistic item ever sold.
I don’t work nor do I work out because what incentive is there for me to stay in shape when the guys I’m pursuing have standards that are lower than my GPA? Well, lower than that one semester when I wasn’t screwing the T.A. anyway. I have learned that boys will take almost anything without a Y chromosome unless of course they have consumed enough of their favorite beverage. (Beer!) But hey, a mouth is a mouth right?
When I’m not watching The Notebook, I enjoy giving insightful explanations about why I got the word ‘butterfly’ tattooed in Japanese on my lower pelvis. I believe it conveys personal strength by getting a tattoo that my parents aren’t aware of even though much of the student body is. After all, I am widely known on campus as the girl who opens wide.
I don’t have too many male friends because I don’t get along very well with ex-boyfriends, which is what every man in my life either was or will soon become. My best girlfriends, or should I say ‘my girlzz’, normally rotate in six week cycles before we get in a little fight regarding a trivial detail such as a borrowed hair dryer or me screwing her boyfriend before finally telling everyone behind her back what a two-faced bitch she is.
Did I mention that I crave more attention than your girlfriend? Who, by the way, is sooo not prettier than me. I constantly talk about how fat I am, in hopes that a boy will either give me compliments out of pure pity or subconsciously have his expectations of my body lowered. That way when he eventually sees me naked, he will be pleasantly surprised.
Another thing I like to do is make out with any girl, willing or not, at a party to try to reveal my wild side and see if I can out-slut other girls. Hopefully, it will make me come off as more of a flirty tease instead of the flirty whore that I am. I do this knowing full well I won’t even get a tank top like I would if I were on Girls Gone Wild. Unless you count a damaged reputation and herpes the same as a tank top, because then I guess it’s pretty much the same thing. But quite similar to the censor bubbles on Girls Gone Wild commercials, I leave the excited viewers disappointed as their dreams of a hot girl on girl make out session are crushed as I slobber all over some resisting woman’s forehead. Well, I better go… Laguna is almost on!
LOL HAY ITS ME GUYS
also: Bonnaroo 2006 has officially goresmashed Coachella 2006 to within an inch of its hipster life.