Hey girl- what’s up?
Da f*ck were you thinking?
Like literally. How do you not see the symptoms of a man-child when they are staring you dumb in the face? He literally is 25 and funneling beer in his snapchat story. How on Earth did that not scream “hasn’t left his college days behind”?
He was seeing you because he wants to relive those good old days in the basement of the Rugby House. You should’ve seen that coming when he made numerous comments about how he hated those “frat guys” but the guys on his team were his crew and how if he hadn’t fractured his shoulder, he could have gone pro or taken them to nationals.
You’re not stupid. Stop acting stupid.
Also, stop dating pretty idiots. Sure, it was fun for a few months, but what lacks substance brings no worth to your life. And those boys lack so much substance.
Get your sh*t together girlfriend,
I’m a senior. I’m too GD old to be taking the freshmen campus shuttle, but I’m also too damn old to keep these legs walking miles to campus a day (Okay, exaggeration, but too lazy is most definitely accurate). But the more I ride the shuttle, the more I realize that so many people are doing it so wrong.
- Wait your damn turn to get on the bus. You wait for the other people to get off. It’s like an elevator. You’re not going to shove your way on just to have it clear out two seconds later. Just slow down, it won’t leave without you. You will get on. Calm the f*ck down.
- If there is an open seat behind me, across from me, any damn where on the bus, do not f*cking sit with me. This tiny ass bus seat is my personal space and you’re invading it. It’s only acceptable when there is literally no other seats available. Otherwise, f*ck right off.
- Say thank you to the shuttle driver, think about how much you hate riding the RamVan and realize that the driver is on it for an 8 hour shift. Be gracious, you rude little assh*les.
Follow these rules and you can avoid making everyone else’s time spent on that miserable glorified school bus just a tiny bit better.
Hi, you suck,
You don’t actually. But I like to put you in your place from time to time. It just serves the purpose that I am in charge and have established dominance. I also know that you laughed at that, which is just another reason why I’m in charge of this situation.
You were the first boy that I truly loved outside of a familial tie. And don’t get crazy homie. I ain’t in love with you. I just love you, and yes there’s a difference, even though I’m sure that you’d love to argue that. Just shut it down now, there is a difference.
You’re the boy that I’ll marry when I’m 65, lived a whole life, had kids, became a widow and forgot what it’s like to talk to anyone besides cats. I’ll need company and I can put up with you extendedly. We do have a marriage pact, but I think we’re both way too hot of commodities to not be off the market by 30ish, so I won’t be Julia Roberts and you won’t be Nick Nolte. We won’t sing “I Say A Little Prayer for You”. I also know that you don’t understand that reference AT ALL, which is just one more thing that makes this work. I can tell you all the obscure movie references and you’ll tell me about all of the really great music you’ve been listening to, even if I think it’s sh*t at first.
You were the easiest love letter to write this week, because even though I don’t see you even nearly as often as I wish, I know that you’re always a phone call, text or FaceTime away. I know that if I need you for dumb advice in the middle of the drunken night, you give it to me straight, even though you know I probably will still make a stupid choice anyway. And you don’t judge me in the aftermath.
You are that best friend that time doesn’t erode. We can brush our teeth together and share your roommate’s face wash and still not be sick of each other immeadiatiately, shockingly.
I love you. Plain and simple. No strings attached, you know that I’m here at any single point that you may need me.
I’ll Try My Best, How Much Do I Invest?
I’m not starting with “hi!”, I’m starting with thank you, because have you seen yourself in the mirror? Wow. Really, wow. You are a treat.
I don’t really know anything about you, whatsoever, other than when I see you, it gets a whole lot of emotions stirring, mostly lustful ones because again, wow. I always hope that you’re smart. You look like you should be smart, but you also look like you might use that smartness in a d*uchey way, which, let’s be real, is also hot.
I don’t fantasize that you’re very nice because, if I ever do grow a pair and approach you and you are as kind as you are beautiful, man I’m going to launch myself at you, climb you like a tree, as it were. Homie, you’re going down like a sack of potatoes. Good luck.
Keep wearing that peacoat around town, looking mighty fine. It does not go unappreciated.
Sincerely Yours (In My Dreams),
Interesting fact about me, I absolutely love poetry. I love to read it, I used to love to write it, and I really love spoken-word. This is one of my all time favorites and I wanted to share it with you, it’s also what is going to be my inspiration for writing up until Valentine’s Weekend:
Have a great weekend everyone! XO, Maz
Hey Germs around the world; f*ck off,
No, that doesn’t mean anything other than germs. I mean all the little things that weasel their way into your body and make you feel like sh*t. You’re assh*les!
I think that you’re mean spirited and you make me feel bad. I want you to go away and not come back. You’re like that mean girl in the seventh grade who laughs at my new shoes, even though I think they’re cool. Except, you’re a germ laughing at and crushing my health, even though I think being healthy is cool.
A Seriously Delirious and Drugged Up on Nyquil MazzyMaz.