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Light on his Loafers


Back from a very long hiatus. School's had me busy and I just haven't felt like updating. But I have so many stories...read on!

Every girl's worst fear, next to turning a guy gay, is hooking up with one who's already an obvious flamer.
 
Yes, you know precisely where this is going.

My friends and I were amidst a drunken night at our guy friend's apartment when in walked Light Loafers

Name: Light Loafers
Age: 20
History: We met that night.
The Catch: Homeboy's so deep in the closet that he's finding Christmas presents.

The first thing I noticed? Gorgeous. Tall, chiseled body, the most captivating pale blue eyes, a model's face, soft hair that fell across his eyes...I wouldn't be surprised to leave my local Abercrombie and Fitch and see him half naked on my shopping bag.
 
I wasn't even going to try. "He's too good for me," I figured. At first glance, he was out of my league. (Insert clever sports reference here playing upon the word "league". Sorry, it's been awhile. I'm lazy.)
 
After my 457329452th beer, I was found myself a tad woozy. I excused myself to my friend's room and plopped down upon the bed by myself. Just then, the door to the adjoining bathroom opened. I hadn't realized that Light Loafers had been occupying it. He joined me on the bed and introduced himself.
 
We began to talk - about life, about ourselves, about anything. He seemed to be the perfect catch, so interested in anything and everything I had to say. He told me he was a vocalist, and I felt myself falling.
 
Then, the kiss came. The next thing I knew, I was in his car, giddy at the prospect of my good fortune. I was about to spend the night with LL.
 
Clue number one: A guy this gorgeous isn't that easy to bag. I literally did nothing in pursuit of LL. He fell into my lap with an uncanny amount of ease. At the time, I called it luck.
 
He started the car. "Do you want to hear some music?" he asked.

He popped in a CD and turned to look at me. "I know this might sound kind of gay, but I really want to prove to you that I can sing."
 
Clue number two: He skipped to track seven - N'Sync's "This I Promise You". He proceeded to serenade me for four minutes. He knew every word. I was eleven or so years old when the song came out, and even I don't know every word. Of course, being a girl, I found it endearing. "He has a sensitive side!"
 
As we walked up the stairs to his apartment - him in front of me - I literally could not restrain myself from jumping up and down in celebration of officially becoming the luckiest girl ever. I couldn't take my eyes off of him. Was he for real?

Picture Matt Damon. Now, make him slightly taller, more muscular and younger. Splash in a little Titantic-era Leonardo DiCaprio. Give him better hair and college boy charm. Got a visual? Good. Now imagine you're about to go home with him. Yeah, now we're in business.
 
Clue number three: Once in the door, we had sex, and he seemed like he had no idea what to do. I'll spare you the details, but a guy blessed with those kinds of looks should be getting some on a daily basis. There was no reason that LL should not have been at sex god status. Of course, being a girl, I found it endearing (again). "He's just nervous!"

Clue number four: Five minutes later, these words came out of his mouth. "Would you be at all interested in having sex again?" Who says that?

After time number two, he still didn't get any better.
 
Clue number five: In the morning, there was no exchange of numbers. I wrote it off as typical male.

Clue number six: I looked him up on Facebook as soon as I got home. Turns out, LL is a model, and the only pictures he's uploaded to his Facebook profile are him posing in an extremely homosexual manner. I thought nothing of it. Again, typical girl.
 
Clue number seven: I showed my best guy friend. The first word out of his mouth? "Flamer."
 
I vehemently denied the allegation. Until now. As I first began to type this blog post, I planned on writing about having relations with a guy who you know is sooo out of your league. Then, as I began to write, I realized the story's true angle.

I haven't heard from or seen LL since that night. But, if my best guy friend had never pointed it out to me, I'd still think of LL as "the potential 'one' that got away". Are we so hopeful to find that perfect guy that we can overlook a flaw so obvious?

Ladies...ever made the mistake of bagging a gay one? Story time. Any gay guys out there who slept with women while still in the closet? Love to hear your take on things.


 
Waiting for her gaydar to come back from the shop,
R

Feb. 16th, 2009

Dear Readers,

Don't stop reading. I know that I once updated on a very regular basis. Now, not so much. Maybe it's because I don't have the time. Maybe it's because I don't have the motivation. It's probably both. It is not, however, because I've run out of stories to tell. I have at least fifteen on the backburner. I just...need inspiration. And right now, I don't have it. Just...not in the mood.

However, stay tuned please. The best, it's yet to come. Promise.

Love,
R

I apologize, for I must deviate from the usual "Get drunk, see guy, have awkward hookup with guy" stories for tonight. Although, I can promise that this one is far more entertaining than anything posted. At least, I've had a brilliant time telling and retelling this one for the past week.

The night did not start out on a positive note. After trying to round up friends to go to one of the various parties I had heard about, I had essentially given up. I was in my friend's dorm room watching The OC when I got a call from some girls who live on my hall. My favorite fraternity...we'll call it "Sigma Epsilon Chi"...was having an off campus party at an active's house. Before we go any further, I need to give those of you who don't have experience with Greek Life the 411.

Active - a member of the fraternity who has already been initiated.

Pledge - a future member of the fraternity who has been selected to join but has not been "initiated" yet. Pledges go through a period of time, usually several months, before they can be initiated to become full members. A pledge may be dropped from the fraternity at any time before initiation as the actives see fit.

Initiation - a highly secretive ritual during which pledges become actives. The ritual itself changes from fraternity to fraternity. It can include anything from dangerous hazing, such as forcing the pledges to drink unsafe amounts of alcohol, to a simple recitation of the fraternity's code of conduct or another secret document.

Hell week - the week directly preceding initiation where most hazing goes on. Hell week is essentially a part of initiation. Pledges are usually initiated into the fraternity to become actives at the end of hell week.

Sig Ep Chi's hell week had just ended, and the brothers were ready to let loose. The party was rumored to be definitely worth the off-campus drive, and we were all beyond excited to have secured invitations.

We arrived at the active's house fairly late in the evening, around 1:30am. A decent amount of people were still there and, even though they had ran out of beverages, we decided to stay, mostly because I wanted to spend time with the guy friend who had invited us.

Name: Boston Boy
Age: 18
History: We met through mutual friends at the beginning of the school year. We had attended a few parties together and talked as we saw each other around campus, but the friendship was not especially close. He's a very genuine guy - polite, cute, funny and a blast to hang out with. For those of you who dated the class clown in high school, Boston Boy's merits are undeniable.
The Catch: Boston Boy is famous for probably partying a little too hard. During the last Sig Ep Chi party I attended, for example, I witnessed him a) take a face plant on the cement outside of the fraternity house, get up and proceed to chug an entire mixed drink, b) pick up my friend, throw her over his shoulder and carry her back inside when she tried to leave, c) try several times to kiss me. He has a history of out of control behavior but, before that night, it had never been necessarily destructive. Just entertaining.

Soon after we arrived at the party, I began to search for Boston Boy to say hi. As I made my way into the kitchen and spotted him, it was obvious that he was in the middle of

a heated situation.Collapse )

On a completely unrelated note...

I've been lusting after this boy for the past two days. I'd say he's my dream date.

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I've Got Bros in Different Area Codes!

Please excuse my lack of updates. I just returned to school from winter break and have been having quite the time getting my shit together. However, I have a few moments now, and I've decided to change things up a bit in this post.

A few months ago, I found a map where someone had plotted out all of the area codes that Ludacris claims to have "hos" in, according to his famous song "Area Codes".

Today I got to thinking...what would my "Bros in Different Area Codes" map look like?

Like this, apparently.
Note: After I made the map, I realized that I left out coastal Mississippi. Pretend it's shaded.


Let's analyze.Collapse )

First Mate and The Captain

After the Jew-Fro incident, I didn't think a more terrifying and laughable sexual experience could be had. But, as I've discovered the oh so hard way, the chance of an awkward sexual experience exponentially increases with each shot taken or beer chugged. My first Halloween as a college girl not only exemplifies this mathematical theory, but also makes for one of my more entertaining stories to date.

Name: First Mate
Age: 18 or 19
History: You'll see.
The Catch: Again, this will soon become quite clear.

For Halloween, my best friend and I attended a party at a certain fraternity who occasionally throws exceptional events, but is fairly useless otherwise. We were downstairs dancing on the bar when I was approached by First Mate, one of the brothers.


"Would you care to dance?" he asked me.

Before I continue, I'd like to preface the looming climax of this story by specifying my mental state: Jello shots. Jäger bombs. More shots. A trillion shotgunned beers. More jello shots. Extreme, extreme intoxication.Collapse )
(Continued from previous post.)

Standing outside of Jew-Fro's door, I decided to meet up with my friends who were still in St. Louis Boy's room (or so I assumed).

As it turned out, in the five or so minutes during which I was occupied with JF, everyone had left for the evening. I told SLB what had happened next door, and he for some reason found the situation absolutely hilarious.

After explaining to him that I had no idea how to get back to my dorm, especially in the dark, he asked if I wanted to stay in his room.

Name:
St. Louis Boy
Age: 19
History: Met him the second day of school. Quickly became a close guy friend.
The Catch: St. Louis Boy appears innocent at first...almost like someone you think you can confide in...but the real SLB (SOB, perhaps?) is pure, backstabbing teenage girl. Can't keep a secret to save his life, and is a serial gossiper.

We watched television for a little bit until he informed me that he was growing weary. I was, too, and we decided to turn in for the night.

It was at that point that I realized SLB had no futon or couch in his room...not even an air mattress or a sleeping bag in sight. I looked around, wondering what the sleeping arrangements were to be like, when he answered my question for me.

"Here, I have an extra pillow. My bed should be big enough if you don't mind being a little close."

I was a little surprised, but not really fazed. SLB at that point was my best guy friend at school. Sharing a bed...albeit a single bed...wouldn't be that big of a deal, or so I thought.

As we settled ourselves beneath the covers, I could feel my body fading fast. I was almost in my REM cycle when I felt a warm hand on mine, although I was too sleepy to really pay it much notice. That is, until he kissed me.Collapse )

Jew-Fro (Or, the First Weekend, Part One)

We all have sexual skeletons in our closets - that one partner at whose memory we cringe. We tried to hide the truth from even our nearest and dearest pals, not only because we'd rather save ourselves from supreme embarrassment, but because we'd rather not be reminded that it ever happened.

Name:
Jew-Fro
Age: 19
History: Started talking on Facebook the summer before college.
The Catch: Short. Slightly pudgy. Half-black AND Jewish...not a great genetic combination. Socially awkward. Spoiled rich kid. Still hung up on his Shrek-esque ex-girlfriend from home. Full-on metal mouth...with a condescending attitude to boot. Is that enough of a "catch" for y'all?

It was the first weekend of school. Jew-Fro and I had hung out a few times that week, and while he seemed to be attracted to me, the feeling, I decided, was so not mutual.

My friends and I had spent the evening out on the town with Jew-Fro's dorm neighbor (who we will call St. Louis Boy and will be an integral part of "the First Weekend, Part Two"). As the night wound down, he invited us to his room, and we accepted.

I hadn't been in St. Louis Boy's room for too long before my BlackBerry beeped with a text from Jew-Fro. Collapse )

Beer Bong Boy aka "Triple B"

A girl never forgets the best sex of her life to date, and mine is truly incontestable. Beer Bong Boy wins, hands down.

Name: Beer Bong Boy, or Triple B
Age: 19
History: Met at a party. Went home with him. Possibly the greatest night (and undoubtedly the greatest lay) of my life thus far.
The Catch: The boy's got more checked baggage than I did when I flew home for the holidays. And that's an accomplishment.

We met at a party circa October/November 2008, which is generally how people meet one another in college. He's best friends and roommates with my best friend's best friend (a closer connection than it sounds), and every time I had previously seen him, he held a ping-pong ball in his right hand and a pyramid of red solo cups lay on the table before him, waiting to be conquered. He was quite the athlete.

Although not particularly attractive in a superficial sense (but not a total waste of human genetics either), his swagger evoked all-too-familiar memories of Texas Boy, which should have been red flag number one. After seeing him around campus and the local party scene a few times, I was determined to get to know him.

We'll call him Beer Bong Boy, or Triple B - a tribute to how I first officially met him. As I stood with my black jeweled Betsey Johnson flats firmed planted on the tiled kitchen floor, with a Niagra Falls of Keystone Light funneling down my throat, he entered the room. Determined to keep my cool, I finished the beer bong like a lady (slash champion) and caught his gaze with mine.

"I could've bonged that beer in half the time," were his first words to me.

"Well, fuck you then," were my first words to him.

Romantic, right?Collapse )

Texas Boy

Once in awhile, a man comes along who seems almost too good to be true. "Is he really interested in little ol' me?" you wonder, in disbelief. "Better snap this one up quickly before he comes to his senses and dates a Hilton. Or an Olsen. Or a size zero."

Texas Boy may be one of the more interesting write-ups in my ex files. Trust fund baby and heir to his oil tycoon grandfather's corporation, Texas Boy quite literally does not have to work a day in his life if he chooses.

Name: Texas Boy
Age: 23
History: Met August 2007. Charmed my Sevens off with his superior intellect (he went to UCLA and NYU), flawless taste in music (Bright Eyes, Cursive, Stars...), dashing good looks, and eight-figure (at least) bank account.
The Catch: His father was murdered when Texas Boy was in grade school. Since then, Texas Boy has mostly written emotions off as signs of weakness. He deems them mostly unnecessary and is just looking for someone who will give him babies in order to please his grandfather. He's very particular, and one wrong word could cause the dreaded hang-up. Ask him about his father more than once, and you're sleeping with one eye open. Texas Boy is looking for sex, not love. Yours truly wants both.

But, who knows how many women have been in those Marc Jacobs slacks? This, girls, is what we call a womanizer womanizer womanizer, baby. Except, at first, I didn't know just who he was.Collapse )

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