I'm a hussy, not a tease.  So if I won't fuck you, there's obviously something wrong with you.  Try to work on that.

Date tonight...older man...delightful.

On another note, there is a less than a month before all three Husskateers are reunited in their fabulous apartment.  I can hardly wait for our first drunken night together on the balcony.  It will be bliss.  That's when the real dirty posts will begin.  I need to get the stench of wholesomeness off of me...and quick.

Brought to you by the letter L.

No matter how much you want a girl to sleep with you, begging will not help.  I know it's hard to resist, but please try.  Begging is so terribly unattractive, especially to a hussy.  It just makes you seem weak and mildly retarded...like a special olympic weight lifter.  So please, avoid begging at all costs and maintain your psuedo-masculine facade for a bit longer.  I swear it'll help you get laid more.

This advice brought to you by the letter L.

When disparagingly called a "cock tease," my favorite response is "No offense, but you're not the type whose cock I'd ever tease."  Clever puns are more effective than even the bitchiest of bitch slaps, eh? Plus, violence solves nothing... except conflict. Kidding!

Conversation edited to protect the innocent (and me, as well)

L: Remember that day you drove me to VA to buy a new cable for my computer?
V: Yes.
L: Remember how I was hoping to get some ass later that night?
V: Yes.
L: Do you remember what the boy's name was that I said I was going to fuck?
V: Ummm...don't you?
L: It was either Brian or Ryan, but I can't remember which one.
V: My instinct says Brian, but I'm not certain either.
L: Yeah, that's what I thought but I needed a second opinion.
V: It couldn't have been that good if you can't remember his name.
L: No, it was really good sex, we just didn't do a lot of talking.
L: I sort of feel bad that I forgot the name of someone I slept with.
V: Honestly, with the rate you go at it, you should just be glad it didn't happen sooner.
L: Word!

Don't judge! It's an honest mistake anyone could make!

Brought to you by the forgetful letter L.

This boy obviously thought he was very clever and seductive. While on a "date" (see below for the vocab lesson of the day) last week, a boy said "Let's go on top of that hill so we can see the stars better." He foolishly believed that like other girls I would say "Awww! How sweet!" only to find myself covered in grass stains 15 minutes later. Instead I asked, "Do you mean, let's go up on that hill so we can fuck in the grass?" He was a little shocked at my candor, but clearly was thinking the same thing.

Tragically, he had not been thinking the same thing earlier that evening when he failed to put a rubber in his wallet. Ass.

Based on boys complete inability to carry rubbers for the dicks they love so dearly, I have purchased enough to hopefully last me awhile. I was quite amazed at the selection of condoms offered by our neighborhood CVS. Personally, I've never known there to be a difference between thin, ultra thin, ribbed, studded, shared sensation, or whatnot. Something tells me is all just a clever marketing ploy and really all the rubbers are exactly the same; just in different boxes. However, I did discover one feature that distinguished brands. Durex "Love" condoms have a temporary tattoo in the box. Outstanding!

Vocab lesson of the day
Date: (noun) an event in which two consenting parties meet somewhere suitable to have sex. In some cases, the term may imply some sort of activity before sex, such as an awkward dinner and a boring movie, but it is important not to assume there will be some activity before sex on a "date".

"Mama told me to play safe!" -- Today's entry brought to you by the letter L and the word's of Mama.

To celebrate the 4th, I had intended to drive down to D.C. and partake in a mock romantic fling. However, since my car has been less reliable than a boy, I've been forced to stay in PA for the time being. After a long day of babysitting and praising medical science for the miracle of birth control, it seemed that a drinking game was the only proper way to rescue my Saturday night. Several rounds of asshole and pass the bowl later, I found myself nearly naked and atop some random boy. Fucking while intoxicated always seems like a really great idea, but in actually, it leads to a lot of fumbling, awkward moments. Not to mention the muscle stiffness accompained by positions that seem fabulous while drunk but are really just aggravating your back.

Dealing with the morning after is the worst part about being a hussy. Boys all too often go to bed with the illusion and don't like waking up next to the reality. I always wish that I could just leave after the sex, and avoid the awkward parts, but then you risk seeming like a cold bitch who just wanted sex (even though that's probably true). So I stay, and boys tell me they'll call me sometime when I eventually do leave, even though we both know that isn't true. I guess they say that so they don't feel like a dick, which is a shame because I don't know who told them that having sex with a stranger and never talking to them again was a dick thing to do.

By the way, hickies are almost impossible to hide in the summertime. Despite the many old wives tales suggesting that they can somehow be covered up, the only thing that actually works is turtlenecks. But since it's 90 degrees out, a turtleneck just makes one seem all the more suspicious. And that is why sex while drunk is a bad idea; cause at the time, it doesn't occur to you that no matter how good those neck bites feel, you're going to be regretting them for the next three days.

Brought to you by the letter L.