Sunday, December 18, 2011

Fifty Million Dead Cigars; Part 1

Do you know that awkward moment when you picture your life with free time to smell the roses and shit, but then you remember you’re studying architecture so you have exams and projects keeping you from doing it?
I know you would.
To hell with it. I have a final on a couple of days but I wouldn’t be a proper college student if I wasn’t an expert on procrastination… Besides, it’s Materials of Construction, and I, seriously, would rather watch the paint dry than study its chemical components.

This are just half of the questions I received; I’ll answer the other half after my exam (yeah, I can’t be that big of a rebel, I still want to graduate). I decided to classify them into different subjects because of reasons.

Sexy Ones

How many different dicks have you ever had in your hands, in your mouth, in your pussy and in your ass?
I’ll give you an answer you won’t like: if you read my blog from front to back you can count them… And then add two more I’ve never mentioned.

Ever tried rimming?
Here’s something I learned from Sex and the City: I won’t let a guy lick my asshole since I don’t feel like doing that for him… It wouldn’t be fair.

do you practice cybersex? how many guys have seen you fapping on webcam?
You guys like magic number, huh? I did it several times, mostly out of curiosity… But I ended up dropping it because I didn’t get anything other than temporal adrenaline rush and realized you can’t trust most guys with that kind of stuff.
I am, however, doing it again… And it’s amazing <3 people don’t realize it takes certain maturity and skills to cybersex properly.

Dominant or submissive?
I love this question… I could write an entire entry on this.
I call British Man ‘Sir’ … And he calls me ‘his good little Fucktoy’ <3

Innie or outtie?
Innie and damn proud.

have you ever been groped in a crowded place?
No… But I should add that I avoid crowded places; people scare me.

te ha caido semen en los ojos? se te pusieron rojos? alguien lo noto? Have you ever gotten cum in your eyes? Were they read? Did somebody notice?
Yes.. Hurt like a bitch. I didn’t even care they were red or if it stung; I could just think of how much it hurt every time I blinked.
My mom noticed, if I remember correctly… Of course, she didn’t jump into the conclusion that her sweet daughter had just given a blowjob.  

My Irrelevant Life

... So I didn't realize that was a link until ... well, now. I thought British Man was from another forum you used to frequent and that you only had an online relationship. Are you saying y'all actually have a real relationship? *headasplode*
I’ll try making this story as short as possible: We started mailing each other irrelevant/stupid stuff which somehow turn into a “so… how’s your day?”. Then there were the midnight chats, which turn into videochats. I was planning a trip to London with my friends, I told him about it and we agreed to meet. He came to my rescue when I was lost at the Liverpool Station and a couple hours later he was fucking my brains out.
… That wasn’t even your question, right?

How's school going? Been a while since you said anything about it.
Well… I just said something about it.

Favorite movie?
There are a bunch of movies I’ve loved… However, I have to pick Titanic just because it’s been around 10 years since I watched it for the first time, and still gets to me every time; if it’s not the “You Jump, I Jump”, it’s the “I’d rather be his whore than your wife”, or the band that sinks with the ship, or the old couple lying in bed…  I JUST HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS, OK!?

Favorite book?
There isn’t one, either… Harry Potter grew with me; Sophie Kinsella makes me laugh; Animal Farm made history more fun than any of my teachers; I’m using Caulfield for my blog entries… I could keep going but the story doesn’t get more interesting.

What do you want for Christmas?
You. That’s all.

British, Australian, or Scottish accent?
London accent with a hint of American <3

Chili with Rice Blog...
a)a good blog
b)the best blog

None of the above; a pretty mediocre one. I don’t know why are you guys even reading… But for that, I thank you.

Philosophy and Stuff

so now u have a chance to change anything from the past ...
what will u change?

Have you seen that episode of The Simpsons when they reference the “Butterfly Effect” making Homer time travel and every time he made a silly little change it had huge repercussions?
Well, that’s basically it. I’m not proud of every decision I made, but, still, I wouldn’t change anything; I don’t want to mess with my present.

Who's on first?
This question had to be explained to me, but I figured it wouldn’t be “honest” to come up with a comeback after I did some research… So I’m going to go with my original answer: …huh?

So I've heard that it damages a girls well-being to be very sexually active with someone who they aren't (or won't be in the future) emotionally involved with. But your self-esteem seems just fine and you say you have lots of sex. What's right?
In a tragic way, I’m kind of proud of the reputation I have going on… However, in the name of honesty, I haven’t earn it. I’ve fooled around with guys, but the number reduces a freaking lot if you just count the ones I’ve had intercourse with… It’s even more pathetic if I mention that the number includes a guy I had a relationship with for 3 and a half years, and another dude I’m still involved with.
But don’t give up hope; there are “slutty” girls with wonderful self-image.

Can you write smart things again once you get past the "new BF oh god I'm-acting like I'm 15" phase? Thanks.
Honey… You have the wrong blog. I never wrote smart things :/

Stealing my Spotlight

Were these question enjoyable to read/ answer?
You were the one who asked me about the dominant or submissive. So, hell yeah.

On a scale of 1 - 10 how would you rate my question writing skills?
8 (so it keeps you motivated to try harder next time)

If I were to write you further questions how could they be improved?
In this case, sex is the answer.

Misconception of What a Question is

I don't have a question, but I wanted to thank you for introducing me to Tubegalore... it has revolutionized my masturbation. :-D
Now I’m curious on what kind of porn watcher you are… The traditional home made videos kind, or do you go for the 9 month pregnancy porn?
Whatever it is… Masturbate away, sweetie! <3

thanks a lot for posting your last entry, your lola dahl was scaring me now, yes, even though she is absurdly awesome and i so hopelessly wish she existed, it is so good to know you are not her.
And yes, whoever you are,lady,you are amazing.
You want her to exist but you’re glad she doesn’t? What an adorable little paradox you are <3
Thank you for the compliment.

You can still ask me questions on this link!

Sunday, December 4, 2011

People Always Think Something’s All True

Dear anonymous dude/dudette person:

You asked me if the British Man was more than a good fuck; if there was more to him other than his cock. Let me tell you I felt so tempted to answer with a “duh! He’s a great fuck” followed by a list which included his tongue and fingers… It just didn’t feel right. I, then, tried to keep my honest answer in a short format, but I rambled way too much (“really?” you ask in disbelief. “Swear to god” I answer back, “I even made a blog so I could ramble all I wanted.”) There was just so much I felt like clarifying, I decided to write a whole entry about it!! (Insert here a colon and a closed parenthesis)

Before we get to the main point, there are two things I need to state for the record. The first one is to ask all of my readers to never take anything that’s written in here way too seriously. Second is to inform you, all, that Lola Dahl, amongst the other characters I write about, do not exist… They are, simply, caricatures of real people.

For people who find Lola way too annoying and vulgar, at times, will be -I think- more pleased with my real, more reserved and shy self. Guys who have fallen in love with her oversexed personality would run away fast after noticing my extra set of hormones involve, also, a bunch of “let’s talk about our feelings for 2 hours while I cry… Why? Because I can, that’s why!”

The people I talk about go through the same process of censorship. The girl behind Muffin is not someone I constantly try to get off my back; the guy behind The Roommate is not a flawless Greek god; the guy behind Dude… Well… I’m sure there’s something more to him than being a really weird-but-not-in-the-cool-way person, I’ll leave it up to somebody else to find out…That’s not the point.

My blog goes through a whole deal of editing. I don’t talk about the bad, but I, also, don’t talk about the oh!-so good. Let’s put it this way: Lola Dahl is a mere outlet for me to exaggerate the irrelevant feelings I get on an also irrelevant day-to-day basis… Why? Because I can, that’s why.

Now, you see what I meant about not being able to keep my answer in a short format, huh? And I haven’t even started talking about the British Man.

The guy who inspired the British Man character is still a good fuck, yeah; he made me realize I’m even a bigger sex freak than I thought I was, but, even then… The things I like the most about him have nothing to do with sex. (Insert here a minus than and the number three).

If I had to keep my description about him short (which I do, I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I will!) he’s endlessly fascinating, witty and charming. You’d rather read a blog written by him, I swear… And, on top of all, a genuinely nice person. Give the guy some credit, he constantly has to endure hours of me crying for no real reason, and he does it like a champ. I like him… A hell of a lot. I really am sorry if it’s annoying, but not matter how hard I try, my blog will reflect the simple happiness I’m going through. Admit that it’s a little bit less annoying if I show that happiness divagating about his big cock and how well he can use it, than if I do it talking about his gorgeous smile.

The girl who invented Lola Dahl

P.S. You can submit questions here and I promise you I will let Lola answer those. She’s so much better than me with this kind of stuff.

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Be a Buddy

Let’s be honest with each other for a second; you don’t care about me, not really… And that’s perfectly fine. This is purely entertainment, back and forth. I’m an exhibitionist, you’re a voyeur. We are each other’s “ok, one entry and then I start that thing I should really be doing but I’ve been avoiding all this time”, and I say… Let’s milk it!*

I already did this months ago (link, and another link!) and it was freaking fun. You ask and I write an entry answering everything. Conditions are still the same: there aren’t any; stupid, dirty or honest curiosity about that girl who enjoys narrating her daily life to complete strangers… Everything  is allowed. It’s anonymous, you don’t have to write down a name, email or credit card number… So, go crazy.

Fill my askbox * so we can keep procrastinating together.

* Things that made me giggle because I’m twelve.

Saturday, November 19, 2011

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Are You Drunk?

I’ve notice that one of the most popular topics of my blog is the simple and typical college social life. That’s awesome and perfectly understandable, but you should know that, normally, I don’t have any. Last year was a novelty; you know, first year out of my parents’ house = get home every weekend so drunk that chick from the Exorcist would be proud. The real Lola, the “I have experienced that already… Can we, please, move on?”  Lola prefers going to the movies, eat junk food and, lately, masturbate furiously to the sound of a British accent.

This weekend I decided to do a little sacrifice, just for you, guys. I went through the tumultuous task of buying a pretty cocktail dress, doing my hair and serving myself a couple glasses of free sangria; all to be a convincing undercover reporter… Just for you, guys <3

I figured it would be a great night, amongst other people, the party included Grey, Dude, Muffin and Muffin Man… Characters, that by their own, have been interesting topics for my blog. All together should be amazing, right? RIGHT?


They probably were. I’m sure. Grey and Dude hooked up, and Muffin and her man had a pretty huge fight. Sadly, I wasn’t there to witness any of that, people tend to like their privacy for that kind of stuff. Go figure. Ok, don’t leave me yet, I managed to get a story, I swear!

There was a fifth blog character I wasn’t counting on, Cute Guy; he asked me to join him for a smoke, which is funny since I don’t smoke (…funny may not be the word) but, since the sangria effect was already vanishing and people were starting to be boring again, I figured there wouldn’t be much more different to have an uncomfortable conversation in or outside the bar. He’s, also, a friend, kinda… More of an acquaintance; we have shared a some  nice cordial conversations, and so we were, back there…  Until he decided to throw his cigarette away in a very dramatic way and pull me towards him. I’m giving you the chance to recreate the scene by handing you the script:

Ok, you don’t have the balls to be a bitch… Act cool!
No. I’m sorry, no.

(smiles back)

Oh perfect, this guy thinks I’m playing hard to get. You try to be nice…
NO. Really, no.
(backs off after he still tries too give it a try)
I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gone out, I didn’t know you were going after this.

No. I wasn’t going after this, I just wanted to catch up with you… But why not?

Oh dear… I can’t believe I’m actually going to pull this one…
There’s someone else.

Is he here?

Uhm… Sure.
He means “here” in Europe, right?

Ok… Just one kiss

Great argument
NO! I’m really sorry, but I’m serious.

Well, then, just come here

(Doesn’t “come there”)

I’m not going to try to kiss you, I swear!
I’m sorry for putting you in an uncomfortable situation.

Don’t worry, it’s ok…
I should have known “join me for a cigarette” was code for “let’s make out in the parking lot”.


I’m really sorry for the kid, but I’m glad I have a story to tell.

Saturday, November 5, 2011

Saturday, October 29, 2011

When You’re Dead, They Really Fix You Up

This year, for Halloween, I was planning on being Dead Body #2, from Freddy vs. Jason… Then, I remember I’m way too cool for that shit.

I’m throwing my own party instead, with such a restrictive guest list it just includes me; going as an stressed architecture student (with bags under my eyes and everything!). Everyone is required to bring their own laptops with AutoCad installed and there will be coffee! Lots and lots of coffee! I will just go ahead and ruin the big surprise: British Man will come late at night, and show, all guest, his penis.

Anyway, Happy Halloween!

Monday, October 24, 2011

Captain of the Debating Team

I’m interrupting my regularly scheduled bullshit for the following
Public Service Announcement:

Raising your self-esteem by bringing down others’ is never cool.
True in everyway; I’m just focusing on two, which, to my disdain, are very in right now.

Big, Curvy Girls: I get it! You are the ones with the boobies and the booty. You are the ones who have the guys mentally masturbating to your cleavage; awesome. It would be politically incorrect for me to say my size 2 jeans are sexier-than-thou; pretty please, don’t say I have a little boy’s body because I don’t fill your double D’s.

Virginal Girls:  You’re right, you won’t get STDs and ‘walks of shame’. Cool…! I can’t say I fully get it but you’re the ones abstaining from sex, so that’s fine. I won’t think of you when I’m asked to sacrifice someone in my Satanic Rites 101, as long as you hold yourself from throwing rocks at me (even if they are metaphorical rocks, I’m just trying to make a point here).

A very wise women once said “baby, I was born this way”, and, baby, truer word was never spoken: I inherit my small frame from my mother. My sexual appetite… I really don’t want to know where that came from, to tell you the truth (I’m here, so, I’m guessing she’s not repulsed by the idea), but that’s not the point. I don’t use sex to make people like me or get favors done; I simply love the tingly sensation, and, by tingly sensation, I mean cock.

To both of you: Fuck it. I won’t eat a fucking cheeseburger*, but I will swallow cum. Lots of it.

I’m an “anorexic slut” and I love it.

*I do love cheeseburgers. Again, I was just trying to make a point.

Sunday, October 16, 2011

Guys that Never Read Books

Main reason why you should never read
“He’s Just Not That Into You”:

What you’ll read
(real excepts)

An excuse is a polite rejection. If he wants to find you, he will. If he’s not calling you, it’s because you’re not on his mind. “I don’t want to be in a serious relationship” truly means “I don’t want to be in a serious relationship with you.” Drinking and drug use are not a path to one’s innermost feelings. Don’t give him the chance to reject you again. He’s married! There’s never a reason to shout at someone unless they are in imminent danger. Cut him off; let him miss you.


What you’ll deduce from it

What the fuck am I doing? Of course he doesn’t really like me… I’m just a warm hole for him to put his dick in! I deserve someone who doesn’t make me wait one whole fucking hour for a text…!
I can’t even go crying with my friends. Those idiots are even worse. They’re always talking about “going out for drinks”… THOSE ARE NOT FUCKING PATHS FOR ONE’S INNERMOST FUCKING FEEELINGS!
Forget about telling my brother, either; he already shouted at me, 12 years ago, when I broke his walkman… He has probably been saving up his anger, all this time, and ends up hitting me… I’m pretty sure everyone will understand if I accuse him of domestic violence before anything else happens.
You know who won’t understand, though? My father. He won’t understand because he’s married. Married! There’s a whole chapter about married men here and they’re not good people.
Why is this happening to me? I’M A GOOD PERSON!


"We are dying from overthinking. We are slowly killing ourselves by thinking about everything. Think. Think. Think. You can never trust the human mind anyway. It's a death trap."
-Anthony Hopkins

Thursday, October 6, 2011

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Always Kissing Each Other a Lot in Public

Dear 15 year-old me:

Hi! This is a future and sexy version of you talking… Because, yeah! You’re not going to be so funny looking for that long; though, I shouldn’t have said that, you’re meant to develop a sense of humor to persuade people into liking us.

There are a lot things I could say about your questionable taste on clothes, hair, men, eyeliner and clothes, again (…sorry) but 1) you’re a moody teenager who already knows everything!1! and 2) I’m my awesome self thanks to your mistakes, so I kinda maybe need you to mess up okthanksbye.

Of course, I wouldn’t be contacting you if I wasn’t planning on being remotely helpful. Here’s my only piece of advice:

Stop crying about him. Really. Just stop. Yes, we are talking about the same dude. Now, suck it up, it’s not that bad and… I really shouldn’t be saying this… You’re totally going to bang a British guy, a hot one, a nice one, a really cool one… I know, right? He’s the kind of guy who’ll get you to dance in the middle of a store, but, also, the kind of guy who does this awesome thing with his- you know what? You’re too young for this. But, now that you know about it, you have to promise me to be cool, ok? BE COOL!

My point is: you spend too much time whining and complaining. Is not as cool as you think to be unhappy. The sooner you learn that really good things happen when you, occasionally, get that stick out of your ass, the better. Things are just as bad as you made them out to be.

Extra helpful tips, since I’m effing nice.

  • A Krispy Kreme doughnut is the fastest way to temporarily fill that little void in your heart.
  • In case of a hickey: Just wear your hair down.

21 year-old you

P.S. I’m sorry to keep bothering you, just one quick favor: In a few years you’re getting a puppy; could you be a darling and keep your closet door closed while she’s going through that adorable chewing phase? We really loved those shoes. Thank you.

Friday, September 2, 2011


I hate…

because I have heard a grown woman say “omg! If I meet an Edward, I will dump my fiancĂ©e lol!1”

because if I ever get another superior touched-by-the-angel-of-technology kind of look, I will start burning Starbucks down, where all the kids who are willing to overpay for appearance hang out.

Harry Potter
because… Ok, I don’t really hate Harry Potter… But I might if this MY CHILDHOOD IS OFFICIALLY OVER trend doesn’t fade out, soon.
You’re twenty-fucking-five, for crying out loud, get a grip!

That’s right, kids… I hate products based on their fanbases; I hate fanbases because they full of… fans; and fans are obsessed with/have a passion for something, which (and this is when it gets dramatic.. Run! RUN, I TELL YOU!):


There’s not a product/idea/goal that gets me off my lazy (but perky) ass; for that same reason, I feel I have no path in life… I’m studying architecture because I figured it’s nice and cool to say I’m someone who’s creative, smart and likes hanging out with gay dudes, but I’m not entirely sure I want to be an architect.

I don’t feel a real big passion for architecture, or drawing, or math, or physics, or art… Or nothing.

I love sex. Man… Do I love sex. That doesn’t count, though; next thing I know I will be joining a fan club for people who like to turning oxygen into carbon dioxide.

I’m going nowhere (and not even very fast to, at least, make it sound cool and clichĂ©)… I am enjoying the ride – a freaking lot – which, I feel is worth mentioning.

Once I got over the typical “I hate everything” teen phase, I can say I have been very happy with my lousy irrelevant existence… So, if worse comes to worst and I don’t get to be one of those people who do what they love, I’d happily settle for loving what I do.

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Skinny Legs

Still on my summer break, I have invested a lot of my precious youth on Tumblr – also known as, blog wasteland; where all the internet jokes come to die. I’m not surprised of my newly found addiction, since it fills those lazy afternoons with Harry Potter jokes, porn and puppies; also it’s the only place I can, accurately, say “I’m following Joseph Gordon-Lewitt”… Which, not trying to sound pathetic here, it’s all I ask for in life… Of course, behind every great site, there are a bunch of kids trying to fuck it up. In this case, the “Special Snowflake” kinda gal has made Tumblr, her bitch.

I know the special snowflake syndrome, I went through it when I was 14 (and I mastered it in black eyeliner and Hot Topic clothing)… But the hipster revolution has only made it worse. You know, the trend that has made people my age, and older, desperate to stand out in the most absurd and irrelevant ways… Like listening to underground music. Shit, most of the songs my grandfather listens to are unknown and he has never been a dick about it.

Teenage girls, really embrace this fashion because they are looking for a way to define themselves… And what a charming way they found:

I’m not like other girls.

Well, that’s nice.

Do they fight crime at night or have chocolate milk coming out of their nipples? Nah. This is, generally, what distinguish those mystic creatures:

Hi! I love videogames! I’m not obsessed with clothes, I only own a pair of shoes and I, rarely, wear make up. I don’t count calories, actually, I love cheese burgers! I’m the complete opposite of any kind of dull feminine stereotype you can think of…! So, to make a long story short, I’d play Halo with you, and let you touch my boobs! And make you a sandwich…


At their given time, they will learn, just like I did, that there’s no such thing as “your typical kind of girl”. If there is, a pair of converse, The Smiths discography or, even, a taste for anal, won’t suffice to sent them apart from the rest.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Seductive As Hell


  • Sooner or later, I will confess my long time wish of watching
    “The Attack of the Killer Tomatoes”.

Wrong Answer
”Good for you”
”Really? Isn’t awful?”
”How could a tomato kill a person? Is it, like, about mortal diarrhea?”
”I’m sorry, what? I was too busy being boring”

Right Answer
Enthusiasm and a link to watch it online in my inbox

  • Speak in a British accent.
  • Be awesome.

Sunday, July 31, 2011

Make Her Suffocate

You could say I’m going through a “writer’s block”, but that would be unfair; I’m more of an “unprofessional ranter” than a writer.

When you’re a college student, there’s not a lot to rant about when you’re allowed to wake up at 12pm. I could ramble about how much I like a guy, right now, and how he makes my panties tingle… It’d be the equivalent of watching me giggle for half an hour; the first two seconds you’d think it’s all cute and adorable, but, later, you’d just want to punch me on my fucking face.

This is what I’m going to do; I don’t know how it’s going to turn out.  If you have a suggestion, idea, subject or question I could turn into a blog entry, you’re more than welcome to tell me about it:

(it’s all big and shiny because I underestimate people’s abilities to click on a link)

I can’t promise I will follow every suggestion (if I get any… Then it wouldn’t be embarrassing) because I’m not witty enough to write a lot about subjects like rhinos, for example, and you people deserve more than washed up “they are horny!” jokes.

I’m going to be honest with you: I, seriously, see no reason why would somebody want to read about the point of view of a girl who, more than once, has lifted up her dog pretending it’s Simba from The Lion King… I just figure there must be someone else, out there, who is just as bored as I am.

Saturday, July 23, 2011

A Very Good Conversationalist

This is why you, guys, don’t want me to videoblog… Not really.

From now, and until further notice, this blog is a tribute to my dogs.

Monday, July 18, 2011

Perverts and Morons

Ways to Achieve a Lousy Weekend Vacation

White Girl Edition

  • Plan a beach vacation on the days you’re getting your period.
  • Make sure you’re a third-wheel most of the time.

*Experts Challenge: Try to sleep, inside a tiny tent, while
the couple is sexing it up right next to you.
Acknowledge the empty wrap of condoms in the morning.

  • Choose a rainy and windy night to use a short dress.

*Experts Challenge: Flash your panties to a group of guys
you’d only touch with a machete.

  • Get a random dude to offer you illegal drugs in exchange for a blowjob.
  • Have an ambitious 15 year old kid to tag along.
  • Be right next to him when he, finally, decides to puke; extra points if he does it all over your leg.

*Experts Challenge: Avoid thinking about the pneumonia you’re definitely getting, while you wash that leg in the unbearable cold ocean water.

  • Pretend to have a decent conversation with a guy, while he has a passed out teenage cousin on his left side, and a very horny couple fucking on his other side.

*Experts Challenge: Accept the fact that that’s impossible
and you’ll, both, be just awkwardly staring into space.

  • Come to the realization that, even if a porch is a mixture of vomit and sex noises, is the warmest place you’ll be able to find at 4am.

*Experts’ Challenge: Stay there, doing nothing, three hours.

  • Fight, against 50 people, for a place in a bus, at 7am.

*Experts Challenge: Develop a very rational fear that someone,
from that crowd, might have raped you.

  • Spend all night fantasizing about getting back to a tent; then, find that tent completely destroyed by the rain
  • Get more change than you should’ve, after buying something: Realize that’s the happiest you’ve been all weekend.
  • Walk home alone, from the bus station, at 12am, only to find out there’s no one there to open the door.

*Experts Challenge: Forget about self respect
and break down crying on the doorsteps.
Keep crying, even though, you know, no one
would/should feel sorry for the poor rich girl
who didn’t have fun on her beach vacations. 

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Sticky and Sweaty

I’ll just say it: I like porn. Shocking, I know; girls not only like sex, girls like watching other people have sex, who would have thought.

The thing is that I’m also into kink; sometimes I worry I’m not so into conventional sex as I should, but that’s really just between me and the Lord (that’s how I’m calling my future sex partner).

Having those preferences do make, looking for porn, on the internet, an interesting adventure. Since people seemed to enjoy reading what was going through my head while I did something as boring as studying for math, I figured you’d enjoy this treat too.

Trust me, you can’t make this shit up.

0010. Come on, tubegalore, you must have something good for me today.

0011. Bizarre…? I’m not sure my stomach is strong enough to handle this category.

0012. Double blowjob; double fisting; double toying; double penetration anal; double penetration pussy… Damn, if one dick in one hole isn’t enough, you know you have problems…

0014. Saggy tits; sailor; sandwich…!! There’s porn about sandwiches?

0017. I’m going with Lesbian Gangbang.

0028. Oh no… They are going to get a baseball bat into…? Oh, they are… Now I feel bad this poor girl got fucked over with a bat and I’m just going to close the tab.

0030. I just hate these stupid ads all around, they make me lose my focus!

0031. OMG! Is that the Little Mermaid having sex with his father? How is that even possible!? I’ll just click it to…

0032. Well, of course it was spam! Man, I’m like those old people who actually think they are the 10.000.000th visitor!

0038. Bobbi Starr has such a nice set of teeth… She’s adorable… Huh… I think it’s time for a little of testosterone!

0045. Is he going to pee on her? Oh, man! This was such a pleasant video until that happened! Ok, I’ll just pretend he’s cumming.

0046. That would be a lot of semen.

0047. Ok, this is not even normal pee.

0048. No. This isn’t possible; that’s a hose strapped on to a dildo. I’m closing this.

0055. Are hairy pussies in again? How come nobody told me?

0058. It’s just not fair! There are a lot of hot girls doing porn and I can’t get a single attractive dude? How hard is to get a young guy to agree to get paid for having sex…? Instead I just have to look at these lovely young ladies sucking the cock of a midget!

0059. Let’s face it, I can’t afford to have standards.

Friday, July 1, 2011

A Little Premature in my Calculations


If I used tags, this would be under “white girl problems”.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Can’t Seem to Get Very Interested

You know it’s almost impossible for me to study in an empty library? Not because it is a remainder of how almost everybody in my building is home with their families…

No. It turns out I really need someone shooting me the "Study,-bitch,-that’s-why-you’re-here” look… Without that, I’m just an exceptionally cute bimbo who gets distracted by shiny objects.

Prepare yourself for a very accurate dramatization of what happens inside my head while I study alone:

1700: I’ll study for an hour, take a short break and then study some more…

1702: A vector subspace is a space inside a vector space… That’s so funny… I should make a graphic of this and post it on the internet; something like invection... No. That’s not funny at all.

1706: I wonder who decided there’s a whole universe of vectors…

1707: What I really wonder is what is like to have an erection…

1710: Vectors… Stupid little vectors – Wait! What was that? Did that led on my phone just blinked…? Nope. No, it didn’t.

1712: Danger! Danger! High Voltage! When we touch! When we kiss!♪ Man, I wish I could just get that fucking song out of my head… lol, no, I don’t; is awesome.

1715: OMG! Look at me! I’m balancing a pen with just my nose!

1718: I hate vectors.

1721:  Don’t you wanna know how we keep starting fires? It’s my desire! IT’S MY DESIRE!… I’m so glad no one came in when I decided to suddenly jump off my chair…

1727: Ok, that led totally blinked now… Yes! I got mail! omg just like that movie…!!

1729: Oh, he’s so funny. I should answer this email now…! NO! Woman, control yourself; first, you study, then, you answer emails.

1734: ██████ private ████ ████ █████ █████ little █████████ fantasy ████ ███ ███████ you █████ ███ ███ ██████ ███ ███ ████ really ████ █████ don’t ███ ██ ████  ███ ████ ███████ need ████  █████ ██ ███ ██████ ███████ to ███ ███████ know ███████████ ████ ███ █████ ████ █ █████… Should I change panties now or later?

1739: What? What am I doing glancing at other girl’s books?! My seat is at the other side of the room… How the hell did I get here? I don’t even care about finances!

1741: I understand this so well; maybe I don’t need to study… Wait! Is that a 4? That doesn’t make sense at all!

1743: I’m so going to fail.

1751: Oh… It’s a 1… That I understand. Note to self: Work on your calligraphy.  

1755: ♪When we touch! When we kiss!♪

1756: Well, that’s as close to an hour as you can get. I’ll take my very well-deserved break now. Note to self: Don’t act surprise when you fail.

Now, I’m not trying to be funny but I should really go study.

Friday, June 17, 2011

Sore and Childish

There’s nothing I hate more than when guys claim girls always fall for the jerks.

I’m going for dramatics with this entry;
there are tons of things I hate more than that, for example:
- exams
- people who dislike puppies
- hangovers

- unflushed toilets
Oh, and I guess that war stuff kinda sucks too

Dear self-proclaimed nice guys:

  1. You don’t have to finish last.
  2. There’s a difference between nice and dumb.

Sure, some girls do like mean guys, just like some girls enjoy the Twilight series… Shit happens, I won’t ever understand it but the rest of us don’t have to carry that fucking burden.

You know, I’ve been a girl for as long as I can remember and I’ve had a very traditional girl-upbringing. From marrying Barbie and Ken a zillion times to discussing contraceptives, I have done the whole ritual; I know girls. Even behind all those mind games I know what they want and, trust me on this one, lovely dick-carrier, they don’t want jerks.

Confidence. Bitches love confidence.

Confident guys are mistaken with jerks. Confident girls are mistaken with sluts. I’m guessing our society wants to give a negative connotation to people who feel secure enough to get what they want; whatever, I’m too pretty to think deeper than that, so I’ll let society figure that one out on their own.

I’ll keep this short and simple.

You are not being a nice guy if you:

  • long for the girl
  • do whatever she asks you to do
    (while you both have your clothes on and she’s not willing to do a thing for you)
  • constantly remind her how you feel about her
    (when she doesn’t feel the same way)
  • follow her wherever she goes
    (without her previous consent… or even with her consent) 
  • want to bang her but instead you’re listening to her whining about other guys

You are, actually, being an idiot and, probably, a creep. I’m sorry to break it up to you but… That’s not sexy, honey.

If you don’t think you can do better than the “good friend” status, we won’t either. If letting her go and/or admitting to yourself it’s a hopeless situation, means being a jerk… Be the biggest jerk you can be.

I know my audience; guys don’t need an ego buster section, you just need boobs… Enjoy:


Thursday, June 9, 2011

In Love with Knowledge

I reached a 100th followers and this is my way to celebrate it


To every girl who has picked
the name of their future kids after having a nice,
10 minute conversation with a guy
& to my mom, just because… Hi mom!

Note from the Author

I don’t know how to flip my hair to get guys attention and, apparently, I missed the “shake that thang” lesson. Being socially handicapped, I have no advice on how to get a man; being, then, a shy nymphomaniac I was forced to develop a mentality to survive the constant deception: whatever, if I’m not getting myself under him, I will just get over him. On that subject, my fellow cunt, I do have advice.

you’re enjoying yourself,
admit it

I don’t need to know your situation. You’re loving it. Even if it’s just deep down.

Call me a shallow twat, if your will, I don’t get to have layers; I simply confess I j’adore crushing on a guy. However, these days being dramatic is the new interesting and people consider liking someone a burden; that’s cool, whatever suits you… but if this is your situation, please admit you somewhat enjoy it. It will be our little secret…

You must enjoy an aspect of it; you wouldn’t be in this position otherwise. Perhaps you don’t enjoy the anxiety involved and I’ll be the first one to admit not being liked back is a kinda shitty. Nevertheless, if you’re a bit like me, you find relieving there’s someone so funny/hot/smart/whateverrocksyourworld out there.

I’m pointing all this crap out just to make you accept that you’re in whatever situation because you want to be and, just like that, if you really want to, you can get out of it.

is it ‘luv <3’? seriously, bitch…?

Hey. I get it, you want to make this guy special from the rest. How are your friends ever going to take you seriously if you don’t make up some kind of soul mate or spark bullshit? That’s why I’m prescribing you a big dose of skepticism with a side of cynicism.

Unless the guy has proven he can be trusted with your feelings, whatever you’re having it’s not that big deal… It’s just wishful thinking. He’s not that awesome. He’s not that different. Your conversations are not that deep and meaningful. You’re not that alike. You’re not that into him, you’re into the idea of being with him.

if it’s not fun,
it’s not worth it

People affect you just as much as you let them. I bet you’ve thought you found “the one” before meeting your current one; I bet you’ve felt you wouldn’t be able to move on until you did… And if you’re reading this I’m predicting you are alive and, therefore, haven’t died from being so in love or from the heartbreak that comes afterwards.

Let me tell you a little story: This female friend of mine (she doesn’t need a cute nickname) told me, not so long ago, I couldn’t possibly understand the pain of longing for a guy because I’m always having “such great times”. Well… yes. Yes. She’s right. It’s not that guys fall for me (ha!), I get rejected and disposed just like she does, big difference between us is that I don’t expect guys to change their minds: fuck them. Being emotionally incapable of liking you shouldn’t be in your “perfect man” list.

(I’m assuming you’re young and carefree… Since it’s my only area of expertise)
Stop believing your love life rests on some higher power. Be reckless and stupid. Imagine yourself years from now, popping out kids and having to be responsible for some else’s sake. Do you want your memories to be about that awesome guy and his awesome music taste (whose memories won’t be about that girl who only liked “as a friend”) or some impressive shit that would be illegal to tell your children?

My methods shock the romantic types, I know. Before you get the wrong idea, consider yourself warned: jumping from guy to guy at bars won’t bring you happiness; however, is equally foolish to expect a stable relationship to do that for you either.

(obligatory ego buster section)

I really believe that you don’t need anybody who doesn’t think you’re so fucking awesome you must poop rainbows; they would bore you on the long run.

Please tell me you’re not the kind who needs a “you deserve so much more” speech. Come on, dudette… You own the pussy and the titties, guys dig that. You don’t need anybody saying you deserve someone who gives a shit because you already know it; you probably do poop rainbows. 

Friday, June 3, 2011

Her Next Move in the Game

In a moment of weakness (or clarity, depends on whom you ask) I decided to switch a tutoring class just to fit that Cute Guy schedule. I had no special agenda that included oral sex or other shenanigans, I didn’t even plan on talking to him; at this point, just staring at him and letting out the occasional sigh gets me off... Hell, that worked out fine in Jr. High and I’m not ashamed to admit it’s just as enjoyable in college.

Unfortunately, when I arrived there was just a sit available, in a perfect angle for him to stare at me but not for me to do it (unless I pulled an Exorcist but I heard guys get uncomfortable with that). Instead of paying attention to stuff I may find useful in my upcoming test, I spent the whole hour figuring out how to look sexy while I was flipping my hair, taking notes, pretending to pay attention, turning to the next page; you can’t imagine how stressful that is… I’m just glad I didn’t choke when I tried to give my pen a blowjob.

It’s not uncommon that my thoughts aren’t exactly where they should be. Half of the hours I am inside the library are wasted on updating my sexual fantasies repertory; right now I’m into doing a guy while a couple of his friends are watching… But I’m pretty sure my Physics professor won’t care about that on Monday.

I’m about to find out how well does that diet based on caffeine, aspirins and dirty thoughts work… Wish me luck!

Sunday, May 29, 2011

Girls Aren’t Too Much Help

no women
no wonder it's dark

the vapors
turning japanese

I should add “no reason to blog”.

There was no need to come up with an original introduction for this entry; those lyrics describe my life so perfectly now that I have final exams starting in less than a week.

My days have been reduced to: study/kill the few neurons I’ve left on the internet/eat/poop... Notice I didn’t mention “fuck”. I’m worrying for sanity, here. No matter how much effort my vibrator puts into it (and the poor thing is risking the chance of overheating), it doesn’t seem to be enough.

If TV shows have taught me something is that a girl can fix all her problems getting drunk having a cute boyfriend with a nice girly chat. I thought I could count on my friend, Grey, with this; she, after all, got that lousy nickname from Grey’s Anatomy; for being such a horny med student. I was so wrong about everything that I already decided it’s going straight to my biography.

“I need to get laid” I confessed while Grey and I hung out in her bedroom. I laughed but I was being deadly serious “I swear I can’t think of anything but sex… And it’s not exactly convenient, you know? Everything makes me horny… “ I stopped abruptly; Grey’s eyes were piercing into my soul “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I just realized I’m definitely not a lesbian” She answered, as if it was something to be proud about “Here I am, with such an easy opportunity to fuck you and I can honestly say I don’t want to”.

I slammed the door on my way out so hard a moody teenager would be proud.

I don’t know where she got her Friendship Manual but I didn’t feel a bit comforted after hearing how unfuckable I am.

Shallow college girl in search for an attractive
23 year old guy with a sense of humor
and flexible hours.
No experience required.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

No Kidding

I was just informed my dry but charming sense of humor makes me come off like an asshole, at least in front of people who don’t know me and/or think I’m incapable of making a joke.

No need to say I am unpleasantly surprised. I don’t consider myself many things but at least I think I’m polite. Since changing my ways would be a pain but I’m not comfortable with the idea of being unloved, here’s a pamphlet I made and everybody is getting one (yay!).

sarcasm is your friend
(and so am I!)

1. D o n ’ t    t a k e    m e    s e r i o u s l y
In fact, don’t take anything so seriously, you’re better off that way.

2. Confrontation scares me. I suck at comebacks and I cry easily.  Believe me, I wouldn’t insult you even if I wanted to.

3. When I tell (what I think it is) an awesome joke I laugh like an idiot, sometimes, making me unable to finish it.
Most of the times, though, my jokes are super lame and, as a sign of respect, I don’t laugh at them. It’s still a joke.
I’m not done with this point:

  • If I tell a friend to “shut up, you just want attention” and she doesn’t get offended/keeps talking, there’s no need for you to get offended for her.
  • If you felt the need to clarify that a dog is going to get check by a vet and not a human doctor someone had to mock you… No, no, seriously, what’s wrong with you? Can’t you laugh at yourself? It was a Disney-rated joke… Whatever, I don’t hang out with boring losers anyway.

4. Fuck you.



Saturday, May 21, 2011

My Mother Always Knows it's Me

Second most frequent question I get since I moved here (beaten roughly by “If you’re Mexican, why are you white?”) is:

“How can you be so ok with having your parents this far away?”

Well, I’m not so ok with it; I learned, from a very young age, geography is a bit of a bitch. However, the founder of Skype would be very pleased to know I probably talk more to my mother since I got here than when we were living under the same roof.

I’ve become a girl who tells everything to her mother… *giggles* ok, not everything. Here are some of my best stories that had to be modified in order to make them suitable for my mommy:

Dude and I talked for hours that night […]1, he was so fun. He walked me home […]2 and asked for my phone number.
Conveniently censored:

1and we ended up spending the night together
2next morning

After I “broke up” with Dude I wasn’t really that sad; I went straight up to my friend’s, Grey, room, we talked […]3 and I realized it wasn’t really a big loss […]4.
Conveniently censored:

3 while we smoked weed
4 since everything was funny and nothing hurt

Judas and I walked around town […]5 and we just kept sharing glances and lightly touching our hands, which lasted for an hour or two… He did hold my hand later that night […]6 […]7 […]8, no kissing, though.
Conveniently censored:

5 because Muffin and her boyfriend were fucking in our only hostel room
6 when we were both sleeping on the same bed
7 where Muffin and Muffin Man fucked earlier that night
8 while they kept fucking in the bathroom

That crappy night suddenly got better when I spotted that cute guy from classes. We talked […]9 left the bar […]10, kept talking […]11; he kissed me […]12 but then he said he didn’t want anything serious; I said it was ok and kept talking […]13.
Conveniently censored:

9 and made out
10 to the backseat of his car
11 and making out
12 amongst other things
13 and making out

Do mothers really want to know all the details?

I’m 21, if I’m a screw-up, I’m too old to be fixed. Since I’m not selling my body in exchange of heroine, I see no harm in my mother thinking I’m a straight-edge virgin.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

She Marries Him Anyway

I’m currently reading Nietzsche (which makes me sound way smarter than I really am) and I’m noticing he’s a bit of an asshole; even worse when he mentions women. On a chapter, however, he goes on and on about how our (I’m talking to my bitches here) biggest enemy are other girls; even though we have a personal love for ourselves, we still carry an impersonal disgust for women. I so wanted to call him a dick  but, instead, I found myself agreeing with him.

My best friends have always been females and that’s not changing anytime soon; although, if I have to be in a room full of people, I prefer them to be all guys. Not because I’m a horndog looking for an orgy, simply because they are easier to talk to. As if a life of reinforcement didn’t do, these past days showed me Nietzsche had a point.

The context here is lame and boring. You just need to know that all the girls from my residence had to go downstairs to help with something; I was on my way but something stopped me. An hour later I ran into a girl from my floor with whom I rarely talk to. She must have had her period or a stick up her ass since she thought it would be nice to bitch about the fact that I didn’t go downstairs; I considered my options:

a) Explain to her what happened. It would lead to her telling me what I should have done.
b) Tell her not be such a drama queen. I don’t have the balls.
c) Apologize. No.
d) … whatthehell, play dead.

I waited for her to finish and kept walking. Didn’t say a word. It was fun.

I know how this will sound so I’ll start by saying: I like my brother’s girlfriend (not in that way), I think she’s lovely; I’m guessing she doesn’t think I’m disgusting, either. Even so, when we both arrived back in town, after weeks of not seeing him, hell broke loose in a very girly way:

“No. Hang out with her… She’s your girlfriend/sister, of course you have to be with her”

We ended up having dinner, the three of us, at her place; I pretended to fall asleep on the couch, so they wouldn’t feel bad for leaving me alone.
(I don’t want to be a cockblock).

Back at my brother’s apartment, where his adorable roommate was being handsome as always. He decided to give me this hat that he didn’t use, just because it made me look more like a Mexican (it’s not a sombrero at all but attractive people can get away with stupid comments). When his girlfriend found out, hell broke loose, again, this time including shouting, tears and “you’re such an inconsiderate pig!”; she really wanted that hat and it wasn’t a gentleman move from him to give it to somebody else.

They made up. I have very strict instructions to take the hat and never bring it back.


Even though I hate happy couples and want to see them burn, I’m not proud that my mere existence creates such chaos.

*I’m not cool enough to have real bitch fights.

Friday, May 13, 2011

Mad with Desire

My best friend and I never agree on guys, which makes it pretty damn easy to stay true to our “Hoes before Bros” philosophy.

I don’t even try arguing with her because, on some level, I’m aware her guys are better looking than mine. She’s really into pretty little guys with six packs who only exist at Abercrombie & Fitch; even though I can’t deny these guys are the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be ♫, they do nothing for me. If I wanted pretty, I’d be licking pussy… My guys have to be rough around the edges; there must be something awkward about them. 

The guy with the girlfriend, Judas, the one I like liked like liked, falls into the “pretty” category. His soft clear skin, greenish almond shaped eyes and perfect white smile make him so delicate looking he almost gives the impression of being a little boy. I didn’t think much of him when we first met, it wasn’t until we talked for a while (and he defended me against Dude’s childish actions) when I became interested.

My relationship with the Cute Guy from my classes was far more animalistic. There’s really nothing to say about his appearance, he’s average. Average height, average weight, dark eyes, dark hair and still, from the first time I saw him, entering my classroom, I thought “fuck, this guy is so hot”.

Making out with him hasn’t calmed my sexual needs at all, neither did the fact that his not-so-close shave left the skin around my mouth sore for three days. Biology takes over me every time I see him in the hallways; I don’t care whether he’s a Sagittarius or if he likes to feed hungry puppies on his free time (no, ok, I’d care about the puppies), I just keep thinking what an amazing set of kids we would have. I swear I rarely ever feel this mating necessity so badly. Of course I don’t mean I want to become a 21 year old mother, I just want to do it like mammals do on the Discovery Channel ♫.

Either I come up with a casual and not at all desperate way to get him into bed or with a good explanation for why was I humping his leg.

Monday, May 9, 2011

My Father was Catholic Once

The most entertaining aspect of living in a college residence run by nuns is hearing people’s reaction when I tell them I do. I’m not trying to mock anybody; if I weren’t living here I’d probably think being a “slave of Jesus Christ” would involve serious flagellation after every impure thought.

Let’s get the record straight: I don’t have to go to church, I can go out on weekends and I don’t masturbate with crucifixes or throw rocks at prostitutes… I don’t even believe in god (but I wouldn’t say that too loud around here, just in case).

To paint you a pretty picture just imagine you decide, along with a group of college students of your same sex, to live in the same building. Some of them, for whatever reason, decide to bring their grandmothers; since it would be rude to tell a bunch of 70 year-old women to get the fuck out, you decide to give them the first floor, while you and your friends move to the top floors. As a way of thanking you for that thoughtful gesture, the grandmas decide to cook food for you, everyday (except Sundays’ evenings, since that’s God’s hour or something). They won’t bother you if you don’t bother them but they’ll still tell you to put a jacket on, because is cold outside. 

Nuns rarely give me interesting stories, however, a couple of days ago I had an interview with the Head of Residence; it was just a formality but it gave me a wonderful opportunity to exercise my “don’t even bother” muscle.

Below, you can read a dramatization of the most relevant moments in which these symbols ‘♪♫’ will replace a “whatever, bitch… I’m not going to argue with you”.

Nunism #1
TheBoss: Is your handwriting always like this? […] Your t, h, b and else are all at the same height, you don’t expand… Do you realize that says something about your self-esteem?
Me: My handwriting in general is big… Doesn’t that say something?

handExample of my handwriting

TB: Yes, it does… It says you are a generous person with potential, however, those t’s say you are afraid to reach that potential… Is that true?
[My handwriting is such a badmouther] I don’t know… Never thought about that.
TB: I’m just telling you what your handwriting says about you; do you agree?
Me: [♪♫] Ok, yeah, probably.

Nunism #2
TB: Personal question, we never got to discuss it before… How’s your faith?
Me: […shit] It’s ok.
TB: So you believe?
Me: [no] Oh… I don’t know. I don’t think about it.
TB: So you think something that most of the world believes in is stupid…?
Me: [how did you get that from “I don’t know”?] Stupid? No… I’m just not into religion.
TB: Does your family believe?
Me: My brothers and my mother don’t. My father… I don’t really know, I think he does.
TB: You don’t know?
Me: He never talks about it.
TB: Now I see the problem…
Me: [Rude bitch!]
TB: If you don’t think it’s stupid you must believe there’s something out there… Don’t you think it’s important to give it a little bit of thought?
Me: [♪♫] Ok, yeah, probably.

Nunism #3
TB: Even though your mother is Spanish and you have Spanish roots… I’m sure your South American side predominates…
Me: [ohnoshedidn’t! ok, don’t bother, whatev- NO!] Latin American*
TB: Yes, yes…
Me: No. Mexico is not in South America…
TB: [♪♫] Ok, yeah, of course.
Ouch…! She’s good.

Friday, May 6, 2011

I’m Sorry I Told So Many People About It

I, little miss “unfinished projects”, have achieved a hundredth blog entries, if I did my math right (nah, I have an entry counter; I’m too pretty to do math). I’m going to celebrate it in the most annoying way: doing a flashback episode.

I’m leaving all the grammar mistakes, because they are a big part of my awesomeness.


I have never used a washing machine, I don’t really know the value of money and… Have I mention I have terrible social skills? I mean, I’m truly awkward. I just stand there, make terrible jokes or just looking petrified.

More Places and More Names

  1. That reminds me… I need to do my laundry today; I’m almost out of panties.
  2. My phone company surely knows the fucking value of my money.
  3. All my make-out partners tend to disagree on this one… Or they are into petrified looks (…or into boobs).


A Little on the Young Side

This one will remain as my best blog entry ever.


Now, not only I just crossed the line between loving my dog and being a freak about it… I reek of wet dog

What I don't Spend, I Lose

I miss reeking of wet dog ): Nothing fun to add here… I don’t joke about loving my dog.


Houston, we have a problem: I write wrote pure crap. 
I’m going through the months without finding something of substance… Why did people read me back then…?
Why was I even alive? </dramatics>



I’m actually voting for just one, but option number 2 doesn’t sound that bad after some research I made of other places, I’ll just say this: There’s a (just-girls) residency called “Slaves of Jesus Christ”.

Do you Feel Absolutely no Concern for your Future, boy?

I’m usually not into cutesy acronyms but… LOL! Big fucking LOL! Life surely has an awesome sense of humor; I’m a Slave of Jesus Christ and I’m fucking proud of it.


Would you really rather regret something you did, that something you didn’t?

FRIDAY, MARCH 12, 2010
I Have a Splitting Headache

Bad decisions make awesome stories, kiddo.


Not much else to add; in this day and age Facebook words are even wiser: I’m not longer in a relationship.

Where the Hell is Everybody?

I  proudly announce I’m still rocking that single status.


My imaginary sex life is so great.

MONDAY, JUNE 7, 2010
Try to Relax Occasionally

I now realize I’m just way too hot to have a real sex life.


Cooking, cleaning the bathroom, ironing, grocery shopping. Activities that I try to have fun with, as I don’t do them very often. Activities that in a couple of months will be a big pain in the ass since I will be dealing with them on a daily basis.

I'm Going Alone. So Shut Up.

I was such an adorable little snowflake! Actually thinking I’d do those activities on a daily basis and not just when I have no other choice but doing them since my health or/and dignity are at stake.


We made out, and we made out hard. When I came out for air I noticed my brother wasn’t that far away from me; he looked right back, and with a very drunk smile on his face he offered my make-out partner a shot of tequila.

Daddy’ll Kill You

Really, dude? Making out in front of your big brother…? Classiest move to date.


I feel like embarrassing myself today (random need I have from time to time), and talking about my undying love for my brother’s roommate is the fastest way to reach my goal.

In my Mind, I'm Probably the Biggest Sex Maniac You Ever Saw

You’d be amazed of how quickly that undying love died after I saw the filthy conditions he’s able to live in.
After spending so much time together I already see him as another big brother (one I’d fuck hard but a big brother indeed).


Does anybody knows someone from Valladolid…? Because I don’t.

Very Phony, Ivy League Voices

I just copied this to say: I do know a lot of people in Valladolid ♥


There isn’t any other way of describing my current situation other than doing the polite thing: Inviting you all to my wedding with Rupert Grint. June, 3rd. Summer wedding, it’s going to be lovely.

He’s Out in Hollywood

Good thing I read this. June, 3rd is scarily close and most of you haven’t RSVP; manners, guys!


‘There’s another woman involved, you selfish bitch’. Apparently all that ‘Girl Power” we like to brag so much about disappears when there’s guy in the picture.

In their sweet little minds, once the panties are off, dudes forget about everything else, including that those things they call girlfriends.

Sensitive as a Goddam Toilet Seat

(I was physically unable to ignore the “that/those” mistake)
How easy was for me to judge those situations without being in one. I’m still not sure how true to my principles I was/am/can be.


You will tell me if I’m blowing this out of proportions, but what kind of 16-year-old boy is not in the mood for sex? I’d have to be some kind of leper for that to happened… And that’s a very low blow to my self-esteem

A Rude Bastard

No, I was wrong… Hating on a 16 year-old dude for not wanting to sex me up is my classiest move to date.

Any idiot would record their everyday thoughts but just a borderline retard would want to remind people of her own stupidity. Oh, well!

Monday, May 2, 2011

Sex Rules for Myself

Do you ever wonder if some of your principles are just an elegant excuse for being a coward?

I’ve grown to think it’s my duty to update you on my social life and then share the life lesson I got from it… Today won’t be any different.

Let me start saying that night I looked pretty damn hot. I’m throwing it out there so people understand how frustrating it was for me to be wasting all my hotness as a third-wheel for my friend Muffin and her Man. Guys did come up to me (did I mention I looked hot?) but I was only interested in one. Judas, being your typical frat boy was too busy getting drunk with his friends to approach me more than very few times. I did consider approaching him but, either my principles or my lack of metaphorical balls, stopped me.

He has a girlfriend. If he isn’t going out of his way to talk to me, I just have to assume he is happy with his current situation and respect that. What’s the difference between that and not having the courage to break up a couple…? It is a thin line that being intoxicated and disappointed as I was couldn’t figure out. 

In paper (or in Microsoft Word) my whole mental process seems pretty classy; in reality, I ended up yelling at a random guy. It was a shitty night and the guy was being annoying as fuck, shut up, I never yell.

Life is too short to carry a bad night on your shoulders. After Muffin almost dragged me out of the bathroom, I decided she convinced me I am too pretty to be in such a crappy mood. 

Operation: “omg! look who’s there and looking hot” began.

Remember the guy, from one of my classes, who was flirting with me before his “friends” decided to cockblock him? The one I, being 15 at heart, decided to nickname him Cute Guy? If you do, you will understand I owed him a make out session… What kind of person would I be if I didn’t show this poor guy life isn’t always unfair?

We were making out at the backseat of his car when he confessed he wasn’t looking for anything serious… Before I could ask him if my tongue down his throat felt as a marriage proposal he wondered if I could maintain a casual relationship.

I said no.

My principles (that word again!) have been answering that question for a while now. I can’t have a sex buddy; people I get attached and things get messy. Or at least that’s what I’ve been telling myself since I was 16. Being such an adorable little cynic I find it hard to believe I could confuse sex with love nowadays… I’m too much of a coward to figure it out, anyway.

Monday, April 25, 2011

Actors Carrying Crucifixes

It was like a bomb that just kept exploding: “I have a girlfriend. This whole flirtation is in your head”

He should have mentioned her earlier. That guy is a jerk.

Thing is, I don’t think he is. I sparked with this person. I never spark… I wonder how happy they are.
This is not a good side of me. Seriously! What’s the point of meeting someone like that if they’re not available?

It’s the universe telling you they’re still out there.

Maybe it’s the universe telling you all the good ones are taken.

What did he look like?

I can’t remember, which is what always happens when I really like someone. I just remember a feeling… Or he was a dating mirage.
I was so hungry for a spark, I hallucinated a man!

Sex and the City
 plus one is the loneliest number,
Season 5

Why come up with witty thoughts when there are TV shows?

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Don’t Touch Anything

Believe it or not, I’ve done a little bit of growing up since I left my parents’ house 9 months ago… I’m not talking about my moral compass, of course; it sailed, along with my virginity, years ago (leaving a goodbye note promising me I’ll see them both again when I’m old and boring). I’m referring another kind of growing up, an underrated kind: The Stop being such a little bitch kind.

I miss my family, friends, dog and bed. I worry about not getting the grade, I let myself be disappointed by guys constantly and my period hasn’t been regular for a year now. Meanwhile, a friend of mine is going through the death of a family member due to cancer and my parents’ phone calls have been, more than once, reduced to “Guess how many people have died tragically as a result of the drug dealing war here in Mexico?”; I’m pretty sure people in Japan and Syria aren’t having a blast either.

I said it once; I’ve no problem in saying it again: I have no real problems. Neither most of you, face it.

I’m not against bitching, believe me, I’m a great bitching partner…

Did you just spent a sleepless week studying and you still failed the test?
Let’s swear our brains out while we plan to chew that teacher’s balls off.
Your clothes look terrible because of the half of pound you gained?
Cry as hard as you can, I bet it burns lots of calories.
Did that beautiful cock teaser just say she loves you like a brother?
I say there’s not better excuse to drink until you puke… And then drink again.

However, if you are going to act like believe it’s the end of the world, you will have to excuse me while I roll my eyes; life is too short for me to pretend I care. It does hurt like a bitch but no matter how hot she is or how sweet he was, we are lucky if boy/girl crap is the biggest of our troubles.

The way I see it, in every bad situation (once you’re over the initial shock), you have two choices:

a) Stop bitching and get yourself out of it.
b) Keep letting it mess up with your head and stop bitching, since you apparently enjoy it.


Now that I have half convince you, I won’t look so pathetic when I explain you why am I spending the rest of my Spring Break with my grandparents: I refuse to keep bitching about the same things over and over again.

I mentioned, on January, how disgusting my brother’s apartment was. Ok, it turns out… I didn’t know shit about disgusting; no one knows about disgusting until you find yourself taking a probably useless shower in a tub with dead bugs, pubic hair and some spots I will pretend I never saw. Blame my parents for raising, both, an uptight bitch and a repulsive pig.

Not even The Roommate’s sweet ass is going to keep me here.