I happen to actually be from the “Jersey Shore,” and as you already can tell, I am a total sweetheart and absolutely worth getting to know (HA, get in line). In all seriousness though, I have a valid argument, because in New Jersey everything is an argument, to make about the “Jersey Shore.”
Some idiot once told you that it was good for your plants if you put your butts into the soil, and you want a cigarette bad enough to retrieve even these molding spent cigs, turning some shade between green and blue.
I’ve also dated my fair share of dudes, so I’m not suggesting I catch up for years of lost time here, or even participate in an entire pre-boyfriend do-over. I’m just saying, if I had the chance to go back in time and tweak a few things here and there, this is what I would do.
Instead of only recognizing the awards, scholarships, and honors bestowed upon graduates by professors, let’s include some student-voted awards, like “Most Undistinguished Track Record of Questionable Hookups” and “Outstanding Achievement in the field of Day Drinking.”
I would also like to state that I painstakingly took the time to test out your coconut cupcake and cream cheese frosting boxed mix, and just have to wonder: is it ever inadequate? Like, ever? Because I must have had five and they all tasted like I went and had an orgasm in heaven.
I’m like the emotional equivalent of the homeless man leering at breasts in the corner of the bus while swigging from a bottle of whiskey. “Yeah, that’s right, I bet you’re goal-oriented but caring. I bet you’d make a great father. Oh, yeah.”
Here, in no particular order, the wordsmiths and their craft that should probably not get their rapper license renewed this year.
I mean, I’m pretty much the picture of sexual health unless, I dunno, maybe I get drunk or kind of high and she has good eye makeup and it’s a public restroom or library or rooftop and the weather’s decent and — okay, so I’ve made some mistakes, but this is the price I pay for it?