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sweet dee drops knowledge all over everybody's ass.

wrap your minds around this.

Tag Archives: fried oreos

fat kids are not cute.

Motivated by Michelle Obama’s website on simple changes that can lead to weight loss (and an overall healthier lifestyle – I haven’t read it, but i’m sure it says that in the tagline), I’ve decided to drop a little knowledge on my fan base about how to not be fat (do as I say, not as I do).

10. Order a diet coke as opposed to regular to accompany your loaded nachos or philly cheesesteak (or both).

9. Instead of that triple cheeseburger for lunch, do the master cleanse for a week.

8. Drink light beer, well, unless you’re trying to get drunk.

7. Get liposuction, or even better, get that surgery where they shrink your stomach, and you’ll die if you eat too much.

6. Order a parasite online.  Pricy but effective.  (I just made myself rull sick trying to find a good website for purchasing, but i do know they cost about 2,000 dollars, and if you don’t remember to kill/remove your tapeworm, it can grow up to 6 feet long).

5. Get pregant.  Sure, you’ll gain weight for a bit, but it will be justified and breastfeeding helps you lose weight like woah, or so I’ve heard.

good for your baby.

4. Stop eating altogether.  Will be tough, but worth it in the long run.  Well, until your body can no longer sustain itself and then you’re dead.

3. Develop a cocaine addiction.  Slimming and makes you more interesting to others. Win win.

2. Always carry around an ice block, at 228 calories a bottle you can’t afford to be caught off-guard.

get iced, bitch.

1. Maybe don’t eat the KFC double down chicken sandwich or fried oreos.  Instead of a 2 liter of Mt. Dew, try juice, water, maybe even milk (it’s good for your bones).  Stop playing World of Warcraft all day and give the Wii a try, the real fatties should stay away from Mario Olympics because it’s known to cause injury (talking about you, Splodges), or get rull crazy and go outside.  Gawed, America, what the fuck.

Peace out bitches,


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On the eve of my one year singleversary, I would like to take a moment to remember some of the hi (and lo) lights of my first year in the “real” world.

– My first work happy hour: discovering CCR and drinking 13 Blue Moons (hardly compares to Micah’s 17 guinni) on a Wednesday.

– My 22nd birthday: running barefoot around Adams Morgan (jumbo slice in hand) screaming the lyrics of “birthday sex”

– Wildwood (except for the dirty Jersey part): cock block, my pail, eating fried oreos, and passing out in the grass in front of MTDs house with the captain of the UVA team before waking up to break in and climb in the middle of Hodges, Grace, and Kyle on the fold out couch. Oh yeah, and how good Andy and I are at beer pong.

– Kid Cudi, Tegan and Sara, and Jack’s Mannequin concerts.

– Mastering staffs, you got got, laser tag, pong ball golf, and Candyland.

ice in my veins.

– UVA: Four loko, and that time that Danny was rull Jewish and couldn’t be bothered to get us breakfast.  The birth of Humphrey.  Oh yeah, and WM won.

– That time Danny and I were engaged until it was no longer convenient for him, and then I was widowed.  The time we went to the emergency room.  The time that Danny thought the lyrics were, “fuck you like and electric eel.”  The time Amy couldn’t be bothered to wake up for anything.  The time the tro was for poor people.  The time we got roofied and the time there was a kidnapping.

– Homecoming: serenading Ludwell.  Hodges pissing himself and then saving a plant.

– Nats, Wizards, Redskins, Panthers.

– Thanksgiving, wing week, ludacrismas.

frittatas need love too.

– New Year’s Eve: Avatar, Wii games, multiple viewings of Inglorious Bastards, and the birth of Trotsky.

– New Year’s Eve part 2: white trash and the reincarnation of the beer bong.

– Burtassic park and the time I ran a 5k wearing Richard Hamilton’s headband and Tree wore a face shirt.

– Theme parties: ugly sweaters, Dexter, ABC, bar golf, Jersey shore, and Would you still be my friend if I wore this?

– Miami: 5 star hotel, open bars, and Dan passed in the pool.

– NSB: the time I should have died 3-4 times, beach cruisers, Aspen and Amy, ciddling, the garlic.


– Virginia Beach: becoming Aspen (one headband, plaid shirt, beach cruiser, and pair of vans at a time), three way relationships, orange crushes, new awesome friends.

Hm.  That list was longer than intended, and I left out a decent amount of the earlier and the most recent stuff, because I was tired of remembering, but I’ve had quite the year since college graduation and immediate entree into the world of 9 to 5s, happy hours, and business casual dress code. And now it’s over.

I’m a big fan of fresh starts.

Year 2 is looking pretty amazing.  I’m moving in with Danny this weekend in the most baller apartment I’ve ever seen.  I have the majority of my weekends for the next three months planned out (I love planning!!)  Hodges and Tree will be visiting in all of their spare time.  I start grad school in the fall (guarantee I’m the only white girl, not racist/sexist, just true).  Not to mention, I have another whole (oh yes, I did almost type ‘awholenother’) season of football coming up, and we all know that the Matt Moore era will not disappoint.  I am most excited to celebrate my versary tomorrow with Amy, as we raise our glasses to the usual toast, “boys suck,” and I can evening-dream about all of the amazing things that are bound to happen to me in year dos (win the lottery, huge promotion, get mono and lose 20 pounds, marry astronaut mike dexter, etc.)

Dear future (celebrating her 2 year singleversary) SD,

Don’t you dare own a cat or a snuggie.


Current (not quite yet an old maid, although according to hodges it may already be too late for you and if you’re trying to ever have children, you better start now, or else just give up and begin a long life of alcoholism and loneliness) SD

This went from blog post to diary entry within the first 2 lines. I’m sorry? I love you?

Peace out bitches,

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