You Wanna Play Capture the Flag?

Someone got here by googling "my bf's hot daddy." This search disturbs me. First of all, what does bf stand for? Boyfriend or best friend? Either way, it's just wrong. I keep trying to find some way in my head to make it not wrong, but it still is.

Also, Roosh V has a blog today about how men should try and get flags, rather than notches. Ie, they should try and sleep more with people from different countries to prove their universal sexiness, rather than just trying to sleep with the most people in general. I've said before, a good portion of his blog is masochistic shit from bitter, bitter men who date girls only to sleep with them and then complain that they don't meet any interesting girls... But this post amused me, not because I agree with it (because it's just stupid), but because it reminded me of why I was in the Sleazy Boys Club.

See, my friends in college created the Sleazy Boys Club, primarily because they act like sleazy 13 year old boys at times. Hitting on their friends, humping their friends, humping my Legolas poster on my door... I gained entry primarily because of my tendency to come up with horrible pick-up lines. Mainly my "my breasts are sore, can you massage them?" line and the "wanna boing my curls?" line. (Sidenote: I never actually used these pick-up lines. I just thought they were funny. So I read about the whole flag concept and I'm reading the comments and all I can think is "Wanna play Capture the Flag?" Which then makes me giggle even more, since I mainly played Capture the Flag with church groups. Which of course then leads me to the time when Michelle and I snickered through an entire worship service because we were perverting it in our heads. Yeah, we weren't a good influence on each other...

On a completely different topic, if I don't figure out how to destress soon, I'm going to go Lily Allen on someone's ass. (She has the whole song about "one drink more and I'm ready for action"). Only I don't need the drink. I seriously thought about hitting this woman on the metro yesterday who apparently, although she looked to be in her early forties, was six, as she kept glaring at me and shoving her bag into me because I was, I don't know, on the metro. Standing close to her, largely because there were 349083409 other people on the metro and I had no choice. Whatever. But her ridiculousness plus my crankiness due to stress could have lead to a showdown... Hopefully, this weekend I can make decisions (I'm going to look at a room in a house that sounds PERFECT! I hope I love it... and a campus) and then I can tell my stupid bosses that I'm leaving and it'll be great.