“That alien thing that shot Han Solo? What are you, an idiot? His name is GREEDO!”
Nerds love to be right, because it further showcases their nerdiness. When other nerds put down their nerd friends, they get a secret point in a secret system. Whoever has the most points, is the leader nerd in the group. Usually, the leader is older, wiser, and had more time to further his nerd skills.
Without shouting stupid details about Star Wars or Lord of the Rings, you have no input in any conversation.
Bonus: Correcting a really hot non-nerdy girl, then asking her to make you a sandwich.
2. Choose one nerdy game and become obsessed with it
“Sorry guys, I really want to have a social life with you….but….I signed up for a raid at 10 o’ clock and its already 9. I have to prepare my Pizza Rolls and Kool Aid.”
It can be a game that you can mention around normals, such as Call of Duty or Halo. It can be a widely known but seldom understood hot girl repellent like World of Warcraft or Starcraft. As long as you devote every minute besides school into it. You must compare it to real life. Unless you ask your girlfriend to put on elf ears, you’re not doing it right.
3. Complain about movie adaptations
Tom Bombadil wasn’t in the movie rendition of Lord of the Rings? You bet your ass you’re complaining. Pettigrew didn’t die in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1? Fuck yeah you’re complaining.
A nerd is never satisfied with the way movie adaptations are handled unless they’re the ones handling it. If your idea of a Lord of the Rings movie is sixteen hours long, you’re doing it right.
4. Treat girls as if they’re wild animals
“Fuck…she looked at me. That must mean she’s going to tell all her friends to gather around my body and rip off my flesh.”
The girls that nerds desire are typically not nerds. If they are, there’s something wrong with them. Either way, they’re a big mystery. And anything mysterious (ghosts, aliens, Charlie Sheen), are extremely dangerous to meddle with.
5. Be pretentious
What’s the point of getting into Harvard or Yale if you can’t boast about it? Overuse those SAT words, laugh at those that misuse their commas, and always ALWAYS loudly answer questions (or rather question answers) on Jeopardy.
***
My best advice is this: be a nerd and find fellow nerds. If you can consult a friend about a tough boss in World of Warcraft, discuss card strategies for Magic: The Gathering, or even talk about how much you hate trolls, despite being one, then you’re a winner. These types of people will be the BEST PEOPLE YOU WILL EVER MEET!
Sub-categories litter the music industry like a bacterial growth. No one is satisfied with plain ol’ rock and roll or country anymore. Consumers are getting bored and continuously pirate music because it “isn’t good enough to physically buy,” so the industry is getting desperate to make make something “fresh.”
With categories such as Nu Metal, Country pop, Hipster Rock, and Dubstep….everything, there’s so much to offer. Yet, we have so much shit to sift through in order to find what satisfies us. Even when an artist does satisfy us, they turn. Linkin Park quit hard rock and turned to some sort of disgusting hipster pop that involved 30 second songs. Even auto tune is becoming it’s own category.
Fresh music these days means wild and unconventional. Take Lady Gaga, for example. She has a wonderful voice that should be exploited without the help of computerized robot sounds. Yet, her hits do anything but showcase her natural talent. She finally branched out on her second album with the song “Speechless,” but the rest was very glittered and crafted. Not that anyone’s complaining, of course. Her songs are infectious and catchy, and I definitely admit to liking them. But I always pity what our evolutionary music standards have turned into.
Not only is her music daring to be different and controversial, her style is too. One day, Gaga’s listeners will frown upon her ridiculous style choices, saying “it’s been done” or “yawn, lets see some baby tigers in her cleavage.” Things get old so quickly, it’s hard to keep up. Thus many stars are faced with the horrid “15 minutes of fame” label.
Ke$ha was at her peak about 6 months ago. Two hit singles and her trashy ways earned her a label that got people talking. It doesn’t matter how much negative reception she received, the point was that people were talking about her. She was different and dared to talk about getting drunk and high. Rihanna’s song S&M is a daring expose on masochism and BDSM. Her video for it was so explicit, it had been banned in several countries.
Miley Cyrus had a bit less luck branching out into the scary world of “freshness.” She wanted to escape her Disney image and become sexualized. Because if Gaga and Katy Perry can get away with it, why cant she? Well, her issue was that she was already a typecasted role model. Her fans were only with her because of this typecast. Branching out into a hyperactive sex fiend only alienated her from her tween fans and allowed the demographic she was targeting to make fun of her further. Have a listen of her song Permanent December. Auto tune, much?
Even highly praised award winners are becoming engulfed in the shadows of outcasted fame. Taylor Swift, whom channels the confusing category of “Pop/country,” failed to branch out on her next album. Her songs were tired and similar to her previous. Her country fans wanted more country tones, her pop fans wanted more auto tune fun tones. We’re a hard generation to please…
The only genre that continues to do what it always did is rap. The heart, pain, and story is still there, as well as the occasional crude verses about fucking a girl in the club.
I’m honestly very curious about the future of music. Will it turn into just a slew of “beep boop boop” robot noises?
I’ll end this post with a wise quote from a wise person: “Auto tune is creating laziness in singing because you dont have to sing well, or at all. They just feed it to the autotune monster and it poops out a billboard single.”
College is tricky business. It’s a lifestyle choice for most suburbanites. Almost like a formula…
1. Attend public elementary school 2. Pick an extra curricular, whether you like it or not. 3. Attend public middle school. 4. Master whatever extra curricular you’ve chosen. 5. Attend public high school. 6. Exploit your extra curricular to either colleges or classmates (Ahem, cheerleading). 7. Go to big ten university. Go greek. Drink until your liver disintegrates. Have a lot of sex. And get some studying in. Oh, and that extra curricular? You quit that to go greek.
This formula sickens me so much. I’ve always wanted to achieve it, but I’m about five steps too late. I just cannot make it work.
Emma Watson and I would probably have a great conversation about this. Brown University was not her cup of British earl grey tea. She went to a couple frat parties, made a few girl friends, and attended her classes with utmost excitement. But too many things were holding her back.
Like the douchebag that said “ten points to Gryffindor” when she had answered a question in class…
Or the thousands of fans…
Or those creepy Harvard guys that made it their mission to stalk her at a football game…
Or her crazy work schedule…
The typical college lifestyle just wasn’t for her, no matter how hard she tried to be normal.
For me, it’s many things. I wish I had Emma’s excuses. But I don’t. I just wasn’t prepared for it. The academia, the social life, and the people. I didn’t know how to balance it all. My home life was also a factor. It isn’t happy or stable. My family is too important for me to be three hours away. I have too much responsibility in it for me to just disappear the way all my friends do every year.
But I force myself to make it work. Because I’ve always looked at everyone’s formula developing from afar, wishing I had an opportunity like theirs. But I didn’t, so I had to work around that. While my friends were cheering or playing tennis, I was working retail. No college out there cares about THAT kind of extra curricular.
So, as Emma transfers to NYU’s Gallatin School of Individualized Study, I will make my way close to home. Living by myself and making friends the old fashioned way. I can’t afford to transfer again, so wish me luck.
I like me some juicy scandal. Books that make you cringe for the main character. Plots that are so utterly ridiculous it makes you feel much more content about your own life. But sometimes you want that taste of the fab life. A life you don’t live, but can experience through a few hundred pages.
The Ivy is a mixture of everything like that. It’s about a California blonde named Callie Andrews (the pretty, awkward, smart girl that everyone wants to hate, but just can’t), and her adventures at Harvard University. The adventures consist of frat parties, bad decisions, bitchy confrontations, and you know….meeting new people and such. Of course, being a hot blonde, she attracts some wanted and unwanted attention.
Like a typical college freshman, she has boy problems. One of the problems is a consistent bummer throughout the novel. Evan, the hot jock she dated in high school, is about 3000 miles away. Of course, the long distance creates some sort of idiotic force field that makes him think he can get away with anything. He doesn’t cheat on her, but he leaks a video of them having sex in their old high school bathroom to his frat brothers. He pleads innocent, conveying his disillusionment during his frat hazing. He promises to get it back and prevent it from going viral.
While Callie pushes this thought into the back of her mind, she slowly wades her way into the treacherous ivy league waters of Harvard. Oddly, she never describes any sort of struggle with her immense work load. In fact, she enjoys it. One particularly humorous scene involving her father, “Become and English major and I’ll disown you.”
She adjusts to her floormates. Mimi, a french international socialite with great fashion and a snobby attitude. Dana, a nerdy and religious freak that frowns upon sex, drugs, alcohol, and everything else that’s fun. And Vanessa, a rich and stylish private school girl that thrusts her nose into everyone’s business. She does anything to get her name out and become a well-known Harvard socialite.
Callie meets boys too. Matt, a cute but nerdy guy that adores her. Gregory, a prep school douchebag that treats Callie like shit but seems to be falling in love with her. And Clint, the hottie with the dangerous ex girlfriend.
Girl, that’s a lot of guys to be messing with. Of course, she has a tough time bouncing around these guys, trying to figure out who she really loves. Clint seems to be her number one choice, but a particular bitch is standing in her way.
Alexis Thorndike. The Ex Girlfriend. The powerful hottie on campus that goes to all the parties and is envied by all the little prep school girls. She writes for Harvard’s Fifteen Minutes Magazine, a relaxed social read that conveniently guides the freshman in every chapter.
A few parties later, Callie is almost always on the verge of tears. The narration really illustrates her pain in a way that makes it very moving. Sure, we’re not all hotties that are getting an ivy league education, but we’ve all been stabbed in the back or had bitches stand in the way of what we want. It’s hard to see a girl who tries so hard to fit in and do well just fail again and again.
The end is shocking, to say the least. I immediately looked for a potential sequel, but I’m scared to read it. How can Callie possibly get out of the horrible situation she was put into? We just have to wait and see.
The Ivy is written by Lauren Kunze and Rina Onur. The sequel, Secrets, comes out this May.
A sneak peek at Lauren Conrad’s new line, Paper Crown
Starting out with inexpensive fashion alternatives, Lauren Conrad took the safe celebrity-turned-fashion designer route. Finally, at the ripe age of 25, she’s blossoming into a serious designer with her upcoming high-end debut of her new line, Paper Crown.
A nice gathering of photos will leave any 20-something fashionista hungry for more. Keep in mind that this line will be fairly expensive, but well worth the cost.
Her line is refreshingly neutral. She steers away from the tired American Apparal neutrality, however. She has her own vibe running through these expensive and lustrous fabrics.
The opaque tights, the sensible heels, and the fabric are incredibly sexy yet fashionably understated. The style is chic enough for the office and easily maneuvered to become an outfit perfect for a night out. Its fresh, too. While I’ve seen many versions of the leather shorts, none work as well as her version. High-waisted works impeccably with it. It takes the style from trashy to classy.
Girl, I’m sold.
Conrad is a New York Times Best-Selling Author, a style muse and leader, and the ultimate role model. As a fan since Laguna, I’ve known her dream of becoming a fashion designer for a long time. Seeing her doing what she’s been wanting to do since high school not only gives me a bubble of hope, but it makes me love her so much more.
Please support her new line by following her on twitter and signing up on her website!
18 days, and Egypt is finally seeing an end to their political chaos. But what’s a news day without a protest to report?
The latest ironic poster mobs are finding themselves in Wisconsin. You may have heard about it. Governor Scott Walker, to put it plainly, is stripping benefits left and right. And so begins the emergence of college kids and their internet meme protest signs, bellowing about rights and comparing Walker to Mubarak.
Here’s the situation. Walker doesn’t give a shit about the union. His aim? Immediate budget savings. His plan? Cutting Union worker wages. Immensely. He also won’t allow them to bargain over things like safety in the workplace and simple benefits.
The only thing a state and local worker can bargain for is his salary, but even then it’s controlled. It can be no higher than it’s current Consumer Price Index value. What he wants is money. Money towards pensions and health care. Fair enough, right? Well, that’s what he keeps telling himself.
Wages are being cut by 8%….8 fucking percent. And if you’re a construction worker with faulty equipment that may or may not slice your hand off, no one will be allowed to care.
An estimated 30,000 people roamed the streets of Madison to declare their disgust toward Walker. Hopes are running high amidst the recent Egypt revolution, but middle-class state workers across the state are doing what they do best: keeping their head above the water.
Natalie Monroe used to be a high school teacher. She wasn’t one of those inspirational teachers that help struggling students find their way. She wasn’t particularly fun or creative with her lesson plans. Her popularity among the students was nothing to boast about. In fact, she should have been ashamed of her lackluster interest in teaching.
Like millions of other people, Monroe had a personal blog. “Of my 84 blogs, 60 of them had absolutely nothing to do with school or work.” she recently stated in a new entry.
The controversy surrounds a specific post you can find here, in which she laments about how much she deplores her unmotivated students as she fills out their report card information. In this entry, she decides to post what she cannot write in the report cards. These comments came off as harsh and rude, with several swears and shocking detail.
”A complete and utter jerk in all ways. Although academically ok, your child has no other redeeming qualities…. Rude, beligerent, argumentative fuck…. Tactless,” Monroe lists. The complaints stretch on for seemingly all of her students. Although never adding any names, the students mentioned would most likely recognize whom she was describing.
In response, Monroe was defensive. “When I wrote, I kept things as anonymous as possible; I know there are crazies out there and I didn’t want anyone trying to track me down. I blogged as “Natalie M” and had no location information or email address or anything listed or accessible. Nor did I ever mention where I worked or the names of students,” she states.
With her profession, as well as many others, personal blogs are risky. We live in an age where employers and customers alike can search for anyone and certainly find any website the specific person is affiliated with.
Monroe has since been fired. “Within the hour, I was in a meeting with the principal who had a pile of my blogs printed out and sitting before him. Within the next 15 minutes, I was gathering my bags from my office and being escorted from the building,” she blogs.
Her casual attitude about this ordeal is appalling. “Sometimes, the truth hurts,” she states to ABC news.
The truth certainly hurts when you’ve lost your career over it.
It takes a lot to turn me on. When I see a hot guy, I think “wow, he’s hot.” But I don’t get flustered or feel the need to adjust myself in anyway. Because of this, I’m a bit of a mystery. The things that turn me on are just as elusive to me as they are to anyone else.
So, in spirit of this wonderfully romantic and materialistic holiday, I have decided to compile a list of common turn-ons for women, and a select few that apply only to me.
1.When you notice something I fluff up my hair, swipe on some mascara, and smooth my outfits as soon as I know I’m about to see you. I pluck my eyebrows, wax my nether regions, and risk skin cancer to look like a superstar. The overall look is what I strive for you to notice. But when you notice a specific, women mull over it like we would with a negative comment, but in a totally good way. “He really noticed my freshly cut bangs? this guy is a keeper.” It shows that you study us. You pay attention to all our details every day and unknowingly keep a scientific journal of our details in your head. This is swoon worthy.
2. Equality I love the occasional sexist joke. I will of course make you a sandwich if you’re running late for work. I don’t mind you opening the door for me. But there is always a line with everything. A man that treats us like an equal will earnestly think that a woman is his equal. It’s incredibly easy to tell if a man feels superior over a woman deep down.
3. Candles Women, even confident ones, prefer low lighting during sex. Most of us don’t want our flaws showing, and the rest just understand that the low lighting is much more romantic. It’s cliche, yes, but it works. Candles are a perfect way to ease stress. The faint aroma of lavender will calm erratic nerves. The soft lighting creates mystery and intrigue.
4.Carefree innocence I knew I loved the man I love today when we had a moment of pure bliss during something as simple as a snowball fight. I didn’t care about how I looked or what I was doing. I was just having some innocent fun. Make a woman forget about reality and letting her go back to being a little girl without a care in the world. Once she realizes how carefree she just was, she will realize that she can live like this forever.
5.Intellectual conversations Smart arguments can get heated very quickly. But you always know that the “heat” isn’t something to be concerned about when talking with the one you love. That adrenaline of trying to prove a point can lead to a raised voice and quick talking, giving off a bad vibe. But smart women know that when a guy is in this zone of thought, he is doing everything he can to impress you. It usually doesn’t matter who turns out to be right. In the end, we both want hot and intense sex to burn off that sexy rush of adrenaline.
Dating can be difficult, but once you get to know a woman and learn more about what she does and does not like, you will have a better understanding of what mysterious things can turn her on. Remember, turning on a woman is just one step towards sex. The mood requires to be built, and you are the architect. Build it was passion and you will get passion in return.
As for my turn-ons, I enjoy:
The sound and smell of rain
An animal lover
Talking freely about something that would make someone else uncomfortable.
The complete eradication of aloof behavior
A man that loves to cook
A firm grip while holding hands
And the most important aspect I look for in a man:
There’s just something about a man smoking a pipe that makes him infinitely more desirable. It says, “why yes, I am a sophisticated scholar and a gentleman.”
We need to make the pipe popular again. There’s nothing I find attractive about a cigarette unless the person smoking it is James Dean. And cigars are badass, but not quite as much as the pipe.
Pipe smokers are mysterious, perhaps a bit evil. They nurse the end of it as if they are scheming something important. They are pondering about philosophy or politics. They are sipping whiskey and twirling their mustache. They even fuck while smoking it.
There used to be a time when one could smoke in a college lecture hall. Just imagine sucking down on a pipe, donning a tweed blazer and matching slacks, saying things like “Quite” or “Mmmmmmnnnyes” and “a foolish Yale boy wouldn’t understand.” Let’s not forget the rich snob laugh.
Lets bring back the pipe. If I can’t convince you, then maybe Pierce Brosnan can.