It’s been a while since I’ve posted a new song that I realllyyyy like. I reallyyyyy like this one.
Phallic Fruit in the Classroom Always Makes Good News


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I wish my high school courses were that interesting. Only interesting thing that happened in my Psychology class were those electronic babies that were all too lifelike for my likings. All I got from that lesson was some emotional scarring and an inevitable fight with my future husband about how I don’t want to birth his children. When your assigned partner ends up being a dead beat dad, it takes it’s toll.

Good ‘ol Catholic schooling: Put a smile on and pretend the marriage is okay. Divorce is not an option
P.S. All I kept thinking while reading the article was WWED- What Would EB Do? She has a thing for phallic fruit of the yellow variety. She definitely would’ve passed that class with flying colors.
Gangham Style Can Kill Itself
I really can’t fathom how this Psy dude got popular.
I remember the first time I heard “Gangham Style.” It was in Boston, actually, at The Phoenix Landing. The bar was hot as balls and I was already miserable that dudes were trying to grind on me. Then, that song came on. I remember asking my friend, “uh, what the hell is this?” and he just said, “It’s ‘The Gangham Style’ song!” I saw bros break out in synchronized dance and sing unintelligible lyrics. That was enough for me.
I thought Psy was over with, but apparently he’s come out with a new single called “Gentleman.” I know this because my mom sometimes tries to sucker me in to Dancing With The Stars with her. Last night, they had this asshole on to perform. Psy of course has a new choreographed dance perfect for impressing a large crowd of dumb white Americans. I asked her politely, “turn this shit off, or I’m going upstairs.” She said no because it was the finale, so I went to another part of the house and started writing this blog.
I noticed he dresses exactly like MC Hammer, donning harem pants and bejeweled blazers. Hammer’s career went on a great upward trajectory, so I hope Psy’s will follow suit.
Also, Michael Strahan: I would kick my own ass for doing this. What happened to you?
FBI agent shoots and kills man in Orlando who was friends with the marathon bomber
(Boston.com) A Chechen man with ties to Boston Marathon bombing suspect Tamerlan Tsarnaev was shot and killed by an FBI agent in Orlando early today when the man attacked the agent, the FBI said in a statement.
The FBI identified the person shot and killed as Ibragim Todashev, 26.
According to the FBI and local news accounts, the shooting took place in an apartment building on Peregrine Avenue while Todashev was being questioned about the bombings and Tamerlan Tsarnaev.
“The agent, along with other law enforcement personnel, were interviewing an individual in connection with the Boston Marathon bombing investigation when a violent confrontation was initiated by the subject,’’ the FBI said in a statement released around 9:30 a.m. today.
“During the confrontation, the individual was killed and the agent sustained non-life threatening injuries,’’ the FBI said. “As this incident is under review, we have no further details at this time.”
Khusen Tamariv, a friend of Todashev told WESH-TV in Orlando, that both he and Todashev were questioned about his ties to Tamerlan Tsarnaev. Tamerlan Tsarnaev was killed in a shootout in Watertown with police on April 19; his younger brother Dzhokhar Tsarnaev is in federal custody and facing charges that could bring the death penalty.
Taramiv said his friend was not close to Tsarnaev. “They were not best friends,’’ Taramiv told the Orlando station.
“He had a bad feeling,’’ Taramiv, who quoted Todashev as telling him that the FBI was “making up this crazy stuff’’ that there was a connection between the terror suspect and himself.
Taramiv said the two men spoke recently, likely via Skype, but had only limited contact with each other since Todashev moved to Florida. He also told WESH-TV that Todashev was a Muslim, but was not radicalized nor did he possess any weapons.
Maybe this guy wasn’t a terrorist. Who knows? It sucks he died but that’s what happens when you an attack an FBI agent while he’s questioning you about your ties to a terrorist. Also, try to avoid associating with people who you think may try to blow up a street full of people.
I’ve never understood the people who knew asshole terrorists/murderers/etc that say “I never suspected a thing! They seemed totally normal!” How is that possible? Not a single red flag was raised? When I hear that, 3 things come to my mind.
1) You don’t make accurate first impressions.
2) You’re bad at reading people. If you know somebody well enough to skype them and don’t get any inklings that maybe somethings a little off, you need to work on your situational awareness.
3) You aren’t stalking your friends enough.
I periodically stalk every person in my life. I’ll set aside an afternoon, stake out where I know they’re gonna be, then follow them around for about an hour. I observe for a little while, decide whether or not they’re up to anything funny, and then I go on with the rest of my day. About a week later I text them the picture I took of them while I was stalking to let them know “yeah, I followed you”. I’ve got eyes out on everyone in my life and I’m way safer because of it.
Here’s the picture I got of my roommate when I followed him into the grocery store. Look carefully.
Got him.
This makes me feel like I have no Maternal Instincts.

If there is anyone who knows how to kill a plant its me.
I took this picture yesterday, today the plant has started turning brown. I’ve been telling myself that if I can learn to consistently keep a plant alive then I’ll let myself get a pet. Perhaps a fish. If I can take care of THAT maybe I’ll even get a dog!
My dreams are being crushed because I keep killing these fucking plants. How am I supposed to feel comfortable getting my dream puppy if cacti wither at my touch? If this moss plant is supposed to be invincible and is rotting all over my kitchen table?
It’s like the 2nd Level of the Lion King Nintendo game. Just can’t get past it.
(Anyone who got stuck behind that giraffe after it tilted it’s head back knows exactly what I’m talking about.)
Sergio Garcia offers to serve Tiger fried chicken
Sergio Garcia’s verbal sparring with Tiger Woods continued Tuesday night in Europe with what could be perceived as a racial reference aimed at the world’s No. 1 player for which the Spaniard later issued an apology.
Garcia, who took issue with Woods for what he viewed as a breach of golf course etiquette during the third round of The Players Championship two weeks ago, was asked in jest at a European Tour function if he would be inviting Woods to dinner during next month’s U.S. Open.
“We’ll have him round every night,” Garcia said, according to multiple media reports. “We will serve fried chicken.”
This isn’t racist. I know on the surface it seems racist but I promise you it isn’t. This is jilted love. Sergio has been talking about Tiger for weeks now. We get it bro. You’re in love with Tiger. You want to have him over for dinner and then have ambien sex with him. It’s 2013. Jason Collins already came out. We’re cool with it.
Pretty much the only reason I wrote this blog was so I’d have an excuse to post this video.
Goodbye fried rice, hello fried chicken!
My Last Days: Zach Sobiech “Clouds” Celebrity Music Video
If you watched the video bromeo posted earlier today about Zach Sobiech, then you already know his story and you know how amazing he is. You may have also noticed that they played parts of a music video featuring a bunch of celebrities singing Zach’s song. Well here is that video. Not only are these celebrities amazing, so is the song itself. Enjoy, guys.
P.S. In case you’re wondering, here’s the list of everyone involved. I’m officially fans of all of them:
Summer Is Overrated
Summer is nearly here. As the temperature continues to rise, so does my anxiety.
I think I’m the only one in New England who doesn’t just about come with joy when summer finally hits. Sure, it’s brighter, flowers are blooming, and generally people are in a better mood. Friends usually say something like, “that was such a long winter. Thank god there’s no more snow! I can’t wait to go to the beach like every day” and I pretend to agree. Secretly, I’m livid at their happiness and in that moment wish someone relayed the news that we’d be pummeled with a freak snowstorm.
To me, summer is like the cruel popular girl who wouldn’t let me in their clique. The season exposes my blinding and incurably white skin to the general public. It makes me sweat in regions of myself I never knew existed. And it screws with my hair, causing it to frizz into weird, Hasidic Jew curls.
I used to be on the “I FUCKING love summer!” bandwagon. I thought I was just extra cool when I was on the beach and my Mom would put me in white t-shirts large enough to be a dress. I thought kids were jealous when I wore fisherman-style bucket hats to cover my face. I felt exclusive that I got to lie under the umbrella while my stupid cousins baked in the sun.
Then, middle school happened. I found out how not cool I was for not being able to get a tan. I tried tanning beds and sunless tanners, only to be burned or turned orange like an Oompa Loompa. My skin became a badge for being lame. All I wanted was the unforgiving coldness of January back so I could hide my chalky limbs.
My parents tried to say being pale wasn’t so bad. I remember my Mom telling me that Blue Bloods were revered for their white skin. I promptly reminded her that we weren’t aristocrats with peasants working for us. She told me to stop reading into things.
Whenever I see a ginger/blonde kid going ham on the beach making sandcastles and running in the ocean, I feel sorry. I know they are still in that blissfully ignorant stage where dousing their bodies with sunscreen every two hours is the only bad thing about summer. All I want to do is grab their freckled faces and scream, “CHERISH THIS! CHERISH IT BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE!”
I’m more confident about wearing shorts and dresses now. I know there’s nothing I can do about my paleness, so I’ve just learned to embrace it. I won’t let that bitch Summer win. But I definitely don’t like her.
Kid Fakes Kidnapping so Parents Won’t Know He Failed English

Huffington Post– JOHNS CREEK, Ga. — A college student in suburban Atlanta is accused of faking his own kidnapping to avoid telling his parents he was failing a class.
John’s Creek city spokesman Doug Nurse says 19-year-old Aftab Aslam bought a cellphone and texted his parents a story about being kidnapped April 27. Nurse says Aslam camped for about a week in an undeveloped area in Forsyth County, but the weather turned cold and rainy and he went home.
Nurse says Aslam left home because he didn’t want to tell his parents he was failing an English class at Georgia Gwinnett College.
Aslam is charged with making a false report, false statements, tampering with evidence and terroristic threats. It’s unclear if he has an attorney. He was being held without bail Friday.
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Well I guess that’s one way to do it. Another way would be to NOT fail English. I may be biased cause I minored in English, but it’s not rocket science- literally. How anyone could pass college Math courses but fail an English course is beyond me.
Now, I’m not encouraging cheating, and if I did it wouldn’t be for an English course, but does this kid realize how easy it would be to cheat in an English course? It’s all papers, no tests- people would literally write a paper for you if you paid them. Afab over here got a little too fancy and is now labeled as a felon when he could have been labeled as a simple cheater. Good job, bro. Clearly higher education just wasn’t for you.































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