Sirens and blue lights flashing. You look in your rear-view mirror and see this.
FUCK!
You immediately think of what you were doing wrong. Speeding? Swerving? Ran a red light? And if you're a girl, more importantly than any of that, you look in your rear-view mirror to check your makeup.
Talking your way out of a ticket is an art form for women. And there's a few different ways to go about it.
Flirting Batting your eyelashes, opening your top button and propping up the girls is essential for when a male cop walks over. Not only might it get you a warning or completely out of a ticket, but if its a hot young cop that asks you for your license and registration, it might get you a date. Or at least a quickie in the back of a cop car (Admit it. It's on everyone's bucket list.)
Crying No one likes to see a girl cry. Makeup runs, there's sobbing involved and sometimes even snots. It's usually either unattractive or heartbreaking to watch a girl cry. So when a cop tries to stick you with a $300 speeding ticket, let the tears flow and make up any excuse you possibly can as to why you're speeding and crying. Going to visit your dog in the hospital, just broke up with your boyfriend, late for work and scared you'll get fired. It doesn't really matter what the excuse is because the crying will usually work its way to the heart of the cop or atleast make him so awkward that he doesn't know how to give you the ticket.
Female problems Speaking of awkward, nothing scares a guy more than speaking about "that time of month." If you mention something about female problems, a male cop with be so embarrassed, awkward and grossed out that he will usually let you go just so you stop talking about it. I have to say this one's pretty low, but you definitely don't have a spare couple hundred dollars lying around for that ticket. Dropping names If all else fails, it doesn't hurt to drop a few names. Hopefully you know someone in blue, but if you don't it's a good idea to do some research before you go 90 in a 65. Get to know some names of officers or captains at your town's police station. Even if you don't know them personally, dropping a name and saying their your friend or you went to school with them might help. Chances are the cop that stops you is too busy to find the person you mentioned and tell them he stopped you, but chances are they won't want to give a fellow cop's friend a ticket. Plus, even if they eventually figure out you lied, you're probably a few towns over doing 90 in a 65 again.
Have you ever been dating a guy and really liking him when it hits you like a tornado.... "I'm not looking for anything serious like a relationship."
Seriously bro? We're at the fuckin Olive Garden, I've already given up the goodies and you text me nonstop... But you don't want a relationship?
You have got to be kidding me.
You just got hit with "The Disclaimer."
This seems to happen all to often to women everywhere. Well, me and my friends atleast.
So what do you do in this situation? Run for the hills? Play it cool? Tell him you want more?
A few cute girls tell you what they think you should do in this situation here...
Alright, clearly they think you should play it cool and pretend you're down for whatever, while sneakily trying to trick him into wanting more because that's in fact what you want.
Are they delusional? Will this actually work?
Caitlin, in her first of many guest blogs on Chatty Kathy, tells the not-so-pretty story of what happens when you follow this "play it cool" method.
"There was this one
guy that I was kind of seeing a few summers ago. He never said straight out
that he didn’t want anything serious but it was pretty obvious because he was
22 years-old, living in Boston, and had just gotten out of a serious
relationship. His name was Joe and it so happened that I really liked him. I’m
not sure if it actually had anything to do with him or the fact that he was
unavailable that made him so appealing to me but I pursued him like any naive
girl would pursue an unavailable guy. “He’ll want to be with me one day.”
False.
So from May to
September, I consistently had sex with Joe and played it cool in hopes that he
would see me in a different light other than “fuck buddy”. He did take me out
on a couple dates which only flamed my hopes. We even went to a Red Sox game on
a double date with my friend and his friend which only ended in disaster.
Everyone had one too many beers and meaningless fights broke out over nonsense.
The Sox game was fun though!
One night, Joe had a
small-but-serious party at his apartment in Brighton with his friends and my
friends. One of Joe’s roommates had told my friend, Meaghan, that Joe was
thinking about asking me out. It turns out that his roommate had told him that
that was a mistake. There went my only hopes of being with Joe. I had thought
that maybe his roommate’s words wouldn’t stick, but that wasn’t the case.
As the summer drew to
a close, I received less and less texts from Joe to hang out and they
eventually stopped. I hate being seen as a clingy girl but the less available
he was, the more I wanted him. And the more I wanted him, the less available he
wanted to be. One of the worst paradoxes that I’m positive every single girl
has been through. For the longest time after things ended, I felt like he was
“the one that got away”. So cliche but we never actually had a real
relationship to even determine if we were a right fit or not. I used to receive
the occasional text from Joe wanting to see me but he usually talked about how
awesome my ass is. Talk about an obvious booty call text.
I probably wouldn’t
have done anything differently because regardless of what I would have done, he
still wouldn’t have wanted anything with me. But for some God damn reason, I
couldn’t comprehend that. Maybe anal would have helped but I was terrified of
that shit back then."
Clearly, it seems like nothing good can come from this tactic to "The Disclaimer."
Jen Kucsak, blogger of Welcome To The Jungle, seems to think that in a case like this, you should run for the hills. Her post "8 Simple Rules for Dating A 20-Something Boy" says "6. No sex on the first night. A one night stand is most likely not going to turn into a relationship. Unless you are a character in a movie, which I highly doubt you are" and "8. Just have fun. Life's too short for playing games. If he's not showing interest, then maybe he's just not that into you."
Cali Bradshaw, of Sex and The Twenties, thinks saying "fuck it" is the way to go. In her blog post, "Dear Brad, You Suck," she says "And after feeling like complete shit for a few days I’ve decided there is only one possible answer to this – this is about him. Whatever his deal is, I am confident I did nothing wrong and there is nothing here that I could learn from or do differently in the future." She goes on to say, "I am a dating blogger… surprise, you are a star! This blog gets about 25,000 hits a month, so congratulations to you on your new found fame." So publicly shame him! Way to go!
Had you asked me my opinion 6 months ago I would have said go along with it until he falls for you. I was doing that with Douche #1 and of course, nothing but drunken weekend booty calls came out of it.
So had you asked me a month ago, after agonizing months of trying to coax this boy into not "hating girls" and "not being ready," which was his excuse, I would have said absolutely not. Run for the hills or tell him straight-up what you want.
But of course old habits die hard, so when the next guy came along and threw "The Disclaimer" at me I once again said "yea me either - totally not looking for anything serious." And boom - instant boyfriend.
So I guess the moral of the story is that sometimes playing it cool works and sometimes it makes you run down a never-ending rabithole. Basically, shit happens.
A Girl's guide to drinking it through back-to-back sporting events. Basically a "what not to do"
So, This weekend was the national holiday everyone's been waiting for all year: my birthday. My friends got me tickets to the afternoon Bruins game, and by a sick twist of fate, the Red Sox game we were supposed to go to earlier in the week got rescheduled to the same night as the Bruins game. That's a long day of drinking and a quick, hilarious wardrobe change in a parked car to make it through. I attempted to document my day and its hilarity, but by the 5th consecutive hour of drinking in between the games, things like staying awake and even knowing my own name were a struggle, not to mention whipping out my phone to record things. So I'm not gonna lie, a lot of the Red Sox game isn't here, but cut me some slack guys, I was drunk and it was my birthday. Perfect excuse. So enjoy watching my friends make fools of themselves and hearing my annoying voice say, "What are you doing!?" a million times.
[Note: Huge shout out to my web guy, Anthony, for helping me with this shit.]
What could possibly get this girl out of bed before 3 p.m. on a Saturday afternoon? The promise of a beer-filled day-drinking event at a brewery where the more free beer paraphanelia they give you, the more questionable your judgement gets. Top that off with a 1 p.m. Bruins game, and you've got me sold.
The promise of this bad-decision-but-good-story-making day filled me with excitement as I poured Bailey's and vodka into my signature large Dunkies iced coffee and hit the ground running. After celebrating the bruins win and bad-ass fights with a shot, we hit the road to Harpoonfest. Pulling up to the Seaport District, you could smell beer from a mile away and hear rowdy frat boys chanting nonsense in the long, twisting line down the pier. This day seemed like a dream come true as we casually cut a hundred people line to where a few of our friends were standing.
Starring through the chainlinked fence at the lucky people inside laughing and getting drunk was exhilarating. Shortly, we would be in there having the time of our lives. But as time ticked on, the sun went down and the line barely moved, the drunk shrieking and chanting from inside the gates were just torture. After nearly two hours waiting in line and still about 500 people back (with good word from the bouncers that they were at capacity and doing the whole "one out, one in" thing), we decided to cut our losses and go to a bar closeby. But when we got there, it was so packed that you could physically move let alone get to the bar to order a drink.
My buzz was starting to wear off and it was starting to get late. and when I say late, I mean late for day-drinking, but in the real world it was actually really early to start drinking, around 6 p.m. So instead of having an epic pre-St. Patty's Day-drinking event at Harpoonfest, we ended up at two of our usual hangouts in Fanuel Hall. Harpoonfest Flop. Next time, I'm getting in line at 8 a.m.
Women would rather give up sex for a week and keep their beloved coffee. Shocking, right? Who are these women and what is wrong with their sex lives? Are they just crazy, coffee-loving, vagina-hating caffeine addicts with no libido? A recent study on technobuffalo.com explored what's most important in the everyday lives of men and women - sex, coffee, smartphones and alcohol. Here's their shocking results.
Cosmopolitan Magazine, and specifically writer Natasha Burton, were just as shocked as you and I are by this statistic. But if you look closely, this was no landslide. It was a close race, and who are we kidding, we couldn't get up in the morning and function at work without coffee. What do you think? Which one could you absolutely not go a week without?
It's been almost 2 years since the graphic novel, Fifty Shades of Grey, was published. It's been about a year since women all over the world were dreaming about entering millionaire Christian Grey's red room of pain.
In light of rumors flying everywhere about who will be cast for what roles in this highly anticipated movie, I've decided to share my views of this "sexy" book. The latest rumor is that Allison Williams of HBO's Girls will play Anastasia Steele.
Why did this graphic novel about S&M sex become so popular, selling over 70 million copies and surpassing Harry Potter as the fastest-selling paperback of all time? And is it as good as the 50-year-old school teachers who try to hide the cover on the bus to work in the morning say it is?
Women love this book because they want it hot, rough and rich. Christian Grey is not only ridiculously good looking, but he's rich as fuck. He flies helicopters everywhere, has multiple houses, and is just a rich motherfucker. If women reading this aren't getting off on the red room sex, then they're definitely pleasuring themselves to the massive amounts of money and stuff that Christian showers on Ana. Then there's the "mind-blowing" rough sado-masochism sex. Say what you want about this degrading women, but it's fucking hot and every female secretly wonders what it would be like. If women weren't curious, this wouldn't be the fastest-selling paperback of all time. Being tied up, whipped, gagged and flogged is sexy.
When I first started reading this book I was hooked. I couldn't stop reading, especially when it came to descriptions of Christian caressing Ana and her orgasming. Like most women at the time, there may or may not have been a few nights where I curled up with a large glass of wine and Christian Grey was my date for the night. Halfway through the book, the plot turned absolutely absurd right about the same time where if E. L. James described Ana's tits or Christians penis one more time I was gonna puke. The absurd plot kept me hooked though because I just wanted to find out what happening to these god damned characters, for fucks sake. Now I was flipping through the sex scenes just to see where this twisted plot of psycho cougar exes, stalkers and murders would go.
Two sequels later, the bitch ends up married with 2 kids. And a red room in the garage - kind of a "there's a time and place for that, but we haven't completely lost it." Happily ever fucking after.
