I don't care for the old...

I don’t care for the old. They are too stuck in their ways.

“Back in my day, if a boy liked you they took you on a walk.”

“Back in my day, milk cost one whole penny.”

Yeah, well back in your day, Grandpa, you thought 2010 was going to be like The Jetsons, so shut the fuck up.

But the old never want shut up and there seems to be a ruckus, once again, amidst the old of Montana.

The state of Montana is trying to pass a new sex Ed proposal which will teacher children as young as 5 the correct terminology, such as penis, vagina, etc. and teach high-schoolers about different types of sexual “penetration.”

Well you know what, old people of Montana, kids need to be told the truth, I’m sick of this lying. It only creates more whores. Why have you not figured out this pattern, old people? Lies = Whores.

And when I have kids, I don’t want their hairy asses coming to me about sex questions. That’s your job public schools of America. This hooker of a mother (in years to come), didn’t sign up to be a teacher, you did.

Too many times we have seen these scenarios happen:

Too mature for his age elementary boy: “When does the party end down there, Ms. Teacher-Lady-Ma’am?”

School’s answer: “There is no “party down there.”

Correct answer: “That is your penis and never.”

6^th grade girl with no personality but big boobs: “My boobs are huge yet every boy hates me, why Ms. Teacher-Lady-Ma’am?”

School’s Answer: “Well you are just an early bloomer, your time will come.”

Correct answer: “That’s because you wear scary amounts of blue-sparkly eye-shadow and no one will ever love you. Ever.”

Sexually active liberal hippie douche:” Why do Quaaludes make me so tired after sex, Ms. Teacher-Lady-Ma’am?”

School’s Answer: “Because they are illegal and you are going to jail now, Timmy.”

Correct Answer: “Because you’re a pussy.”

This sexual education needs to happen old people, or some weird shit could happen, like bestiality.

“Mom, what’s sex?”

“Well, sex is when two people love each other and touch each other a very special way.”

“Well I love my dog, and when I pet him, I’m touching him in a special way, so am I sexing him?”

Pause.

“Yes. Yes you are.”

You bastards. Do you think those animals are ready for that shit? How could you be so selfish? Fine, I get it; you didn’t want your 15 year-old daughters getting pregnant. But did you have to throw the animals under the bus. Couldn’t you have just bought her a 3-pack of Trojans? Or 20-pack if she’s a whore.

Yes, I said it. Your daughter is a whore. And you can’t get mad at the truth.

God damn old people.

You guys are just too expensive

With all this talk of a second recession looming in the future, I’ve come to realize that I need to start cutting things out my daily life style.

The first thing to go: friends.

Sorry guys, but friendship is an insufficient use of time and you bastards are costing me a shit ton of money.

Even my porn is free, yet you all seem appalled when I ask you to pay for my male prostitutes? Honestly guys, that’s just common decency.

I blame Judaism. Not that I am Jewish or anything, but the Jews seem like a good scapegoat when it comes to anything money related.

I mean, don’t take it personally, but unless you are willing to pay for my drinks, food, gas, prostitutes, adult videos, drugs and cell phone bill, I don’t think I’m getting as much out of this friendship as I am entitled too.

I know you think you’re cool, and maybe you are, but you’re still not 5 cents text worthy cool.

Or, “I’m not paying for your god damn drinks, Natalie,” cool.

And definitely not , “Get your fucking, Mexican slice of heaven, male hooker out of my fucking room, Natalie,” cool.

Poppycock!

You made me choose, my friends, and my, friends I chose Jorge, my Mexican slice of heaven..

And seeing as there is no fall back plan, this better work. I don’t want to be a hooker.

Birth Control, why are you trying to kill me?

Birth control scares the shit out of me and I mean really scares the shit out of me. I pretty much think it’s going to trick me into thinking I’m not pregnant and then 10 months later I’m watching the premier episode of me, on “I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant.” That, or it’s just going to kill me.

We’ve all seen those commercials:

“Have you taken Yaz?”

“Yes…”

“Did you die?”

“No…wait…what the?!”

Now, I’ve never used the pill and I never will, because yes, I think it’s going to kill me. So instead, I use condoms, but those are only 99.99% effective. So, um fuck.

Of course any time I have protected sex, I think I’m pregnant, and my period is so fucked up to begin with, it’s impossible to track.

So instead of being smart and calming the fuck down, I just get on webmd.com and cry myself to sleep because webmd.com says I’m either pregnant or I have a brain tumor that about to explode out of my left earlobe, and at this point of my hysteria, I’ll take the brain tumor.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m pro-life, well technically, I’m pro-my life, and a baby would just really mess that up right now.

My friends have even offered to take care of my potential “love mistakes”, and probably only because they know I’m retarded and that I’m not pregnant.

So what needs to be done? Well I should probably just smarten up and realize most birth control isn’t secretly plotting to destroy my future. Or maybe I should stop being a whore. But until that I guess I should just get ready from my television debut…

The Diary of a Whorey Friend...

JMU made me a very cynical person and honestly, I couldn’t be happier with that fact. The amount of respect you get for being the bitch who says what everyone else is thinking, is well, priceless.

But to get where I am today took a couple of years. It took years of just watching these girls, no these women, who at first I thought were just a little desperate and naïve. Turns out, they were just stupid.

If you went to JMU then you know the JMU Syndrome. There are two types of this syndrome: the male version and the female version.

The male version is quite simple. One semester at JMU and all of a sudden these men think they can drink anyone under the table, fuck any girl they want and never have to get use condoms because their penises are immune to any type of STD.

When in reality, most of them are light-weights, who piss on themselves “accidently” and are so drunk that they can’t really tell if the “girl” that is hitting on them is, in fact, actually a girl in a beige trench-coatlike dress, or in actuality is Inspector Gadget, but is willing to take the chance.

The female version is a little harder to watch. Most of the girls were at some point smart in their earlier years, but realized quickly that the men at JMU like their girls just the same way like their eggs: over-easy. You know those girls too; their fave song comes on at a party, most likely of the Beiber genre, there hands go up and it’s done, someone is getting blown in a 100 meter radius.

Now as a female graduate from this party school, I will be there first to say that yes this is a generalization, and that yes of course there are plenty of men and women at that school who are smart and hilarious and cool. And if I’m your friend then I probably don’t think you are a douche or a whore.

But let’s be honest, stereotypes start with a grain of truth, and the amount of ridiculously stupid and whorey girls at JMU is appalling. And I’m mostly likely going to make fun of you behind your back and to your face, because you probably won’t get the joke anyways.

Guys shouldn't get everything

Once again, boys have been given everything. Not only do they have penises and better porn, they now can add “Bros Icing Bros” to the list of everything a girl really wants in life.

If you are stupid and unfamiliar with this beautiful game, it’s pretty simple. Bro 1 gives Bro 2 the girliest drink possible, a warm, diabetes ridden, Smirnoff Ice. Bro 2 must then get into pussy position (drop to one knee) and chug. However, if Bro 2 has an Ice hidden in his man purse and/or satchel, then Bro 1 must drop to one knee and chug not only one BUT two Ices.

Honestly, it’s genius. It’s riddled with humiliation, name-calling and good-hearted blood alcohol poisoning.

And it’s time for girls to catch up, thus ladies I give you a new game, or one should say, the female counterpart to “Bros Icing Bros.”

Ladies and (Gentlemen if your man enough) I give you: “Hoes Dogging Hoes.” It’s the same exact game as “Bros Icing Bros,” without the Smirnoff. Instead, girls must be presented Mad Dog. Any flavor, any color, any size. My preference being the Bling Bling edition.

So ladies, you know your mission: open your purses, shove as many MDs as you can and start dogging some bitches.

My Worst Nightmare....

Who doesn't want to play with razors and bushy tufts of ginger hair?!

I've already bought 12.

If men are from Mars and women are from Venus...

Then why the fuck do guys love doggy so much?! Alright guys, it’s time to chat. Let’s settle this never ending argument about doggy style.

Now, as far as I’m aware most men love doggy and most girls hate it. Why? The men ask. Is it because it’s not emotional? Is it because girls can’t make love to us with their eyes as I pork them from behind and make awkward grunting sounds? Um, no.

Let’s look at the facts, boys, or really the one and only fact. You are screwing us from the back. And maybe I’m alone on this position, but my ass is not my greatest asset. (Pardon the word choice.) My boobs are. I’m so white I could be an extra on Twilight, so do you think the body part that the sun don’t shine on, is looking hot. Yeah, I didn’t think so. Let’s not forget to add the cottage cheese factor to it, either.

There’s a reason why girls never look at their butts in the mirror. There is a reason we ask our girlfriends how our butts look in new jeans, because we know they will lie! Just like that whore who says she loves doggy, that bitch is lying!

It’s not about some stupid “emotional connection.” Fuck that.

And the greatest argument guys use is “that way I can touch her tits.” (Real quote, I did research for this blog post.) Oh, but wait, you can grab a girls boobs in ANY position. (Well…most.)

Obviously, I’m not a fan. And yes, obviously I will still partake. But let’s get one thing straight, gentlemen, next time you’re porking your lady friend from behind, make sure you don’t stare to closely at the pastey-white cottage cheese jiggling very closely to your man package, because you may lose your cottage cheese all over her back. And that’s just gross.