Imagine you’re fifteen years old at a pool party. Your crush, Becky, from English class is there. She’s never noticed you, but that’s about to change. You go to the diving board and you pause. Partly to give everyone time to pay attention to you, partly because you just realized you don’t know what you’re doing. But it’s too late. All eyes are on you, and now you have to give the people what they want- a jump. You bounce once, twice, feeling the board bend under your weight. And then, on the third bounce, you push with all the strength in your legs and catapult yourself as high as you can. That’s when you realize your angle is all wrong. You hit the water with a deafening slap and immediately feel the pain of a belly flop. You try to play it cool by jumping out of the pool and pretending you’re fine, but then the laughter starts. Someone yells “nice weiner!” You look down and discover that somehow your bathing suit had come undone in the pool and you pantsed yourself in front of your whole class. It’s not a good look. The water was very cold. You run into the house, crying, and as you take one last look at Becky you realize she wasn’t even paying attention. She was too busy making out with Scott, the coolest kid in school. Even after your humiliation, she never noticed you.
I’ve walked past this bar every time on my way to work and legit thought it was just a sign that was left over from a place that closed down in the mid 80s
Got free tickets to see Aoki and Krewella tonight, so I’ll be having a healthy dose of denial to help me believe that I’m still young enough to go hard on a weeknight. And some adderall as a side dish.
I’ll be printing out and eating all the rejection emails I’ve received this week in an attempt to reverse the power they have on my self esteem. The job hunt is going well.
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Damn, I assumed the wedding anny trumped the dating one and you could forget that one.
Imagine you’re fifteen years old at a pool party. Your crush, Becky, from English class is there. She’s never noticed you, but that’s about to change. You go to the diving board and you pause. Partly to give everyone time to pay attention to you, partly because you just realized you don’t know what you’re doing. But it’s too late. All eyes are on you, and now you have to give the people what they want- a jump. You bounce once, twice, feeling the board bend under your weight. And then, on the third bounce, you push with all the strength in your legs and catapult yourself as high as you can. That’s when you realize your angle is all wrong. You hit the water with a deafening slap and immediately feel the pain of a belly flop. You try to play it cool by jumping out of the pool and pretending you’re fine, but then the laughter starts. Someone yells “nice weiner!” You look down and discover that somehow your bathing suit had come undone in the pool and you pantsed yourself in front of your whole class. It’s not a good look. The water was very cold. You run into the house, crying, and as you take one last look at Becky you realize she wasn’t even paying attention. She was too busy making out with Scott, the coolest kid in school. Even after your humiliation, she never noticed you.
That feeling is what Malort tastes like.
Love that game. I’ll see you there.
Because I’m talking about bodies of water, not British words for cabins
You’re not going trick me into water boarding myself with that torture device, Putin
I’ve walked past this bar every time on my way to work and legit thought it was just a sign that was left over from a place that closed down in the mid 80s
No you tampon tunnel
Tuesdays are yellow.
You gotta read the whole column before you comment, man.
We called this “3 Flies Up,” and I totally forgot to include it on this list. Loved that game.
Got kicked out of the Tipsy Pig for falling asleep on a patio table after an aggressive day of drinking. Can confirm it’s the perfect Rose sitch.
Appreciate the kind words, but you’re a psycho if you’re drinking anything other than light blue Gatorade to help a hangover.
Got free tickets to see Aoki and Krewella tonight, so I’ll be having a healthy dose of denial to help me believe that I’m still young enough to go hard on a weeknight. And some adderall as a side dish.
It’s orange vodka, champagne, and orange juice and it is delightful.
My bad, it’s 9:46am and they’re on the west coast.
I’ll be printing out and eating all the rejection emails I’ve received this week in an attempt to reverse the power they have on my self esteem. The job hunt is going well.
Y’all trying to double date?
You’re doing the lord’s work, McGannon.
I’m 100% going to try this.
I know.