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Category Archives: danjah zone.

amy and I (after a few drinks) have decided to do a live blog (similar to jason chen’s) about the effects of four loko, but because drinking a loko is enjoyable, easy, and not really something to blog about.  we’ll also be adding to the challenge by playing kinect for the duration of the loko-drinking.

we have 2 lokos (1 watermelon and 1 lemonade) and we’re starting with kinect sports.  oh yeah, we also had a giant pile of nachos for dinner.  let’s do this.

6:57 – amy takes her first sip of each of the lokos, decides to give me the lemonade one.

6:58 – we turn on the kinect.

6:59 – the lemonade one tastes terrible. amy says her’s tastes like a jolly rancher. fuck amy.

7:01 – my stomach is on fire. we haven’t even started playing. first game – bowling.

7:03 – i’ve realized a live blog is only interesting if you have followers.  we’re gonna keep doing it though.

7:07 – ill.

7:11 – time to switch lokos. burping is yucky.

7:17 – volleyball was a bad choice. amy has drank significantly more than me. wtf.

7:26 – seriously, shoppybag, why are people still clicking on that?

7:33 – now soccer, ugh, why am i still writing this?

7:40 – Even though Amy had played soccer her whole life, Alison manages to beat her 6-1. Maybe, it is due to the fact that Amy has drank most of her Four Loco  and Alison has not..

7:47 – amy is just jealous.

7:55 – i weeeen.

7:56 – approximately 11 oz. remain.

7:57 – amy says “hi”, steve.

7:58-Amy is feeling the full effect of three martinis, paid by the company, and the Four Locos that she has consumed for the first time. Her performance is decreasing at a rapid pace. She scored One point on a game that is averaged of 15+ points. FAIL>

8:01 – you can tell who is posting based on the capitalization and lack of periods.

8:04 – seriously though. this four loko is delicious.

8:09 – i’m sweaty and tired. fuck.

8:12 – is this acid reflux?

8:15 – kinect means i’ll never have to go outside again.

8:21 – we only have one chair.

8:30 – delay of game – amy and i are having a lifer.

8:36 – tyler is here!!

8:42: game on bitches

8:47 – eeeeeeee.

8:53 – i should start a website called “things amy says when we’re drinking four loko and playing kinect and talking about things”  epic. would  anyone read it?

8:56 – 2 0z. to go. this tastes like aluminum.

9:22 – i have the worst hiccups of my life. fml.

9:29 – tyler went with the watermelon (tyler is now typing) and i have turned into a bowling champion? slash creating bowling league monday.  team name? pinheads perhaps? now table tennis:)

9:35 – third loko opened.

9:53 – is this real life?

9:54 – OHEMGEE. no hiccups. where are my roooooomates?

10:00 – “do you not own a mirror?”

10:08 – eating is cheating.

10:31 – “why buy an ottoman when you could buy a horse?”  why aren’t we out yet?

10:34 – i miss mike hodges.

10:39 – amy is a conspiracy theorist.

10:41

10:49 – asher roth looks like a clown, but i do love college.

11:07 – not gonna lie. i threw up in my mouf.

11:20 – “eleanor is insecure about her body, that’s why she won’t look at anyone”

11:22 – I don’t want to cut off my arm because it gets stuck under a rock.

11:26 – peace bitches, it’s baileys’ time.

11:42 – i thought katy perry and zoey deschanel were the same person.

10:58 (am) – i woke up in a snuggie and it feels like someone repeatedly punched me in the leg, but i’m without hangover.  mlifa.  four loko(s) win.

We live in a generation where technology has taken over every aspect of our day-to-day lives.  Not talking I-Robot here (how lucky was it that the “bad” robots turned red, so Will Smith would know which ones to kill – that would never happen in real life), but seriously,  the internet is capable of providing us(and by us, I mean those that aren’t technologically incompetent or too poor to own a computer, although, due to the nature of this publication, I don’t really need to worry about those people) with anything we could ever need – food, clothing, companionship, sex, scrabble, and the ability to obsess over the pictures of ex-boyfriends’ new girlfriends (or for the even unluckier few of us, new boyfriends).

It is no surprise that communication has become so dehumanized.  The love-letters and regrettable phone messages of old have been traded in for sexts and drunken e-mails (although these have become rare occurrences thanks to google making me do math before I can send an e-mail on weekends after 9 PM).   Let’s talk specifics:

1. Bluetooth Headsets

not your average user.

I’ve never been a fan of the headset.  I heard a serious discussion (and by heard, I mean read on my facebook news feed – point made) about when wearing a bluetooth headset was acceptable.  Personally, I believe that the whole idea of  “being safe while driving” is the only warranting factor for the cancer-causing over ear piece (and as I text while I drive, I wouldn’t even consider trying to be safe while talking), but some proponents apparently feel that the headset is a legitimate accessory at all times aside from sleeping, showering, and sexing.  REALLY? as if someone would consider it okay to wear their bluetooth during sex.  I mean, COME ON, it’s bad enough when I’m in the store and swear the person next to me is crazy town, because he is rambling to himself, but during sex? Unless you’re planning on ordering some post-coital thai food (nom.) or the headset also doubles as a mini-vibrator, you might want to leave it at home along with your wedding ring, pictures of your kids, and STD test results.

2. facebook posts

We get it.  You’re in love.  Or you think you are.  Or you’re a stupid girl.  Regardless, the following should never appear on a facebook wall:

a. “I miss you,” (from the same person, obvi) multiple times (really even one, is a little much, but multiple. seriously. multiple) on the same page (ie without having to “read more” or even scroll down).  maybe tell the person you miss them in real life? although, we can only assume that you do in addition to your facebook posts that you hope will communicate to other bitches that you have some sort of “i miss you” level of relationship with this person.  congratulations.  (“i love you” and “want to do you” can of course be replaced for ” i miss you” here and it’s just as pathetic, “msu” of course is an exception, because, I mean, it’s awesome.)

b. “I love you so, so much, you’re the best boyfriend ever. I can’t wait to see you, and marry you, and have your babies”   just, ew.  You have strong feelings for this person, cool, but tell said person, in person, or at least via some one-to-one form of communication, so I don’t kevin youkilis on my desk, and have to explain it to my supervisor as morning sickness.

c. really anything that’s not a hilarious link, inside joke, important bit of news, planning, or something so important that you must communicate immediately else you will forget, and somehow facebook is the only possible way.

3. Sexting

brb.

According to urban dictionary, Sexting: When a guy and a girl send dirty text messages back and forth to each other. Pictures may also be included, but only if you’re lucky.

Ex. “when can we stop sexting, and just have real sex?”

NGL.  I’m a fan – when done properly.  Also, I’m a stronger proponent of the picture exchange than the dirty talk, but that’s just me, and both types have their place.

Sexting is key to long-distance relationships.  Nothing says “I love you?” like a poor-quality, playboy-posed, half-naked picture with the comment ‘I wish you were here,’  of course this doesn’t mean sexting should be strictly (haha, strictly) limited to those with significant or not others.  Sexting when drunk is a particularly enjoyable experience, but depending on locale, out at a bar vs. home (hopefully alone, or i’d recommend putting the cell phone away) in bed, may need to be restricted only to *dirty* texts (although major style points to explicit pictures sent from bar bathrooms, backs of cabs, or middle of M street — all of these have just been placed on my todo list.  EXCITED!  Also, have just decided to start a page entitled “sextsfromlastnight,” so all you bitches better start contributing, and I really hope that my usual sexters don’t read this blog).

4. Texting about feelings.

This is a particularly rough form of textual interaction, it can happen to many different levels of severity, and has “broken the heart” of many a girl I know in the past, okay, well maybe just this one in particular that I discussed this with (and by with, I mean about with someone else. eee. gossip) yesterday.  The fact that texting is not face-to-face or even voice-to-voice, apparently to some means that texts don’t carry as much weight as normal conversations.  As I’m not a douchebag guy (or girl – not trying to be sexist here), I can’t get in the mindset of a person that would say/act one way over text, yet another way in person.  But, I, as a relationship-experienced almost 23 year-old girl, know a little better than to fall for a guy who is v. forwardly texting about how much he likes me, can’t wait to see me, wants to marry me (yeah. it’s happened), but obviously wants nothing more to sex — there are better ways to go about this, like alcohol or roofies.  A similar text-type is the guy (again, or girl) who has specific groups of girls (guys) for mass-texting purposes.  I mean, I can see the benefits; it definitely saves a significant amount of time and effort by allowing said douche to carry on mirroring conversations with multiple biddies at the same time, but could get awkward rull quick if personalized texts are sent to the wrong biddy or the biddies together realize they had been receiving the same texts all along.

The real dangers are the sneaky, clever, tricky texters who say things without actually saying them, forcing the textees to read into things, but then escaping blame by insisting that the particular interpretation was not the intent, or those who are just RULL good at texting — not fair, because in real life you don’t get minutes to carefully craft the perfect 160 character messages.

Point: texts should be taken for what they are, and if it’s never been said via any personal form of communication (using ones words, context clues, body language, etc.), then maybe it’s not really meant.

5. haha, jk

just kidding?

GRINDS GEARS: You know when someone says something that they really do mean, but then they end it with “haha” or “jk” or both, yeah, that’s the worst.  Uh, hi, you texted me that you wished you were here to do me on the counter, and you know what, you did mean it, and if not, then you probably shouldn’t have said it at all, cause your little postfix just makes you sound like a dumbass.

6. In-person Texting

This depends completely on the situation.  Let’s discuss two fictional examples:

GOOD: person 1 and person 2  at a party with lame, not at all fun person 3.  person 1 and person 2 text back and forth about the ridiculous things person 3 is doing/ how much of a fool of himself he is making . hilarity ensues.

BAD: person 1 and person 2 are at a SMALL gathering.  person 1 is clearly not interested in person 2.  person 2 continues to text person 1 cute/romantic-esque things.  person 1 REPEATEDLY looks at phone in disgust and does not respond.  awkward.


moral of the story is that I need to stop giving out my phone number.

Peace out bitches,

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I wish I could marry Bret.

I’ve been having some recent bouts of what I had previously thought were “love-at-first-sight,” but turned out to be, well, not so much.  Maybe it’s my inner girl trying to claw its way out with thoughts of flowers, romance, and all that other bullshit, or maybe it’s just that I’m in a bit of a dry-spell, and by dry, we’re talking like sahara-fucking-desert.  Regardless of the cause, I’ve identified at least four “ones” over the past couple of weeks.  Of these four, two are from today (yes, I realize it’s only 9:30 am, but it’s been a good day), one was married, and the 4th was the most likely to be the one (he looked like he fell out of a thrift store and had the most amazing green shoes I’ve ever seen in my life), but that lasted all of one day.

The “one”s:

– green shoes (eh)

– umd phd candidate (married)

– purple tie

– guy in suit talking to our recruiter  (on second thought, probably not the one)

This leaves me with only one “one.”  The appropriate number of “one”s?  For now.

Immediately upon entering the elevator at approximately 8:22 this morning, I knew I had met the father of my children. (Gross, I can’t believe I just typed that. I was going for slight hyperbole and just made myself throw up in my mouth).  Here I am in the elevator, and in my peripherals I spot potential.  He’s tall (check), holding a motorcycle helmet (eh), brown hair (check), and rull hot (double check).  The jury’s still out on whether or not he has herpes or likes the Jets (equally terrible offenses), but I’m willing to give him a shot.  So, tall, brown-haired, motorcyclist smiles at me and compliments my pink bow (yes, I’m 5 years old).  Now I know he’s interested, because my bow looks ridiculous.  We converse for a few seconds before the elevator stops on the 4th floor; really, DAC, couldn’t put our office on a higher floor, so I’d have more time to talk to my soulmate? Thanks for nothing.  Our conversation ended with him telling me that he had brought a purple tie to work that day for the same reason I had worn my pink bow (to not look like we were attending funerals).  Had we been alone in the elevator, and not with two obviously annoyed old men, I would have held the door open to finish our conversation, but, alas, I had to let the antiques get to their jobs, which I’m sure are merely figurehead positions, because I am 100 percent certain one, if not both, of them has dementia.  And like that, he was gone… (What a fucking amazing movie.  Get on my level).  Moral of the story: I plan to spend the next forever (or until I get bored, so probably a week) trying to find my elevator boyfriend.  Clues: He drives a motorcycle to work, arrives around 8:20, might work on the 9th floor, is tall and hot.  Expect updates.

dear purple tie,

where are you?

sincerely,

pink bow

Peace out bitches,

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It has come to my attention as of late that I am the only one writing (and quite possibly reading) the prediction blog that has been a pet project for the past couple of months.  It didn’t start that way, but over time ADD set in, and predicting political scandals, fighting, and abortion practices in the 21st century, became too much of a time commitment for some.  I’m not mad.  I understand that some people choose to put work, giving back to the community, and/or having a life before dressing their personal opinions and rants as statistical analyses and presenting them to the world as predictions which should be taken well above face value.  I, however, am not those people.  That being said, I will continue to make the usual predictions, that are known and loved, on the step-sister site, whowouldjesuspick, but in addition argue, rant, opinionize, complain, and top 10 about a number of other things, that most probably don’t even want to kind of read.  I might even attempt making a mojito, but probably not. You know why? Because this beer is cold. You can tell by the mountains.

Peace out bitches,

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