Tag Archives: #BBM

34. BBM

26 Apr

As a betch, it goes without saying that you are, as a person, in extremely high demand at all times. We lead very busy lives, and it’s often hard to divide our time between all our besties and bros who constantly want to hang out with us. We don’t blame them, if we weren’t us, hanging out with us would be our top priority too.

Fortunately, somewhere around the turn of the century, some nerd scientist invented the ultimate betch accessory that helps keep us in constant contact with anyone we could ever want to talk to. Yes, we’re talking about the Blackberry. The Blackberry is like a betch’s third fucking arm, and every betch has probably gone through at least twelve of these malfunctioning pieces of shit in her lifetime. (New pin:c83ad4g. Add me!)

Some people might wonder why we keep getting new Blackberries when they clearly suck so much. Obvious answer. BBM. If you have an iPhone or an Android, get the fuck off this website and go back to checking stock quotes on your geek machine, loser.

Same goes if you have fewer than 50 contacts… awkward.

BBM is basically the only reason why betches have Blackberries, and it’s probably one of the most addictive and psychologically manipulative tools in modern society. Honestly, the culture of BBM lends itself to idiocy. For a betch, BBM provides us with an inhibition-free zone and an incessant #1 shit-talking machine. You don’t even realize half the shit you’re sending is complete garbage until it’s too late. You know you can’t harass someone over text because it’s too slow and annoying, but you bet you can stalk the shit out of your lover boy on BBM! (PING!!! Answer me now!!! Fuck me till I can’t walk!!!)

Granted, sometimes we use BBM for important communication, but that’s usually only when you’re trying to text your Asian friend from Econ to tell her your computer suddenly crashed and you desperately need her study guide for the midterm tomorrow.

In reality, BBM is the ultimate playing field for the many games we play with bros. What kind of points can you score in the BBM game? It’s all about the Read and Delivered.

It’s one thing if you’re texting with a bro and he doesn’t respond, but it’s a whole new ball game when you’re BBM friends and he reads it and doesn’t respond. He knows that I know that he knows that I know that he read it!!! He’s fucking done.

This means he’s #32 winning right now, so now you have no choice but to screen him for at least three hours the next four times he BBMs you.

But BBM games aren’t just limited to bros, betches love to play BBM games with other betches too. Who hasn’t been in four simultaneous shady conversations, all with people sitting in the same room as you? The best part about it is that no one ever fucking notices because everyone is on their fucking phones!!!

One of the most epic innovations in the BBM game is the group BBM chat. What better way to keep a select group of betches unified and up-to-date on one another’s very important decisions, such as, should I wear heels or flats tonight? It’s also a great organizational tool, since it helps us arrange exclusive #23 pregames. And since betches thrive on exclusivity, who isn’t included in the BBM group is wayyyyy more important than who is because it determines who we can openly #1 talk shit about.

So betches, always remember that the BBM game is just as important as real life, and one BBM can fuck you over forever. When you’re trying to shadily message Lindsay across the room that Jenny’s shirt makes her look like a whale, make sure you’re not accidentally typing to Jenny. After all, she’s the BBM group admin, and the fact that she looks like an oversized mammal who never gets ass doesn’t mean she won’t delete you faster than you can say “Sry wrong BBM.”

33. Hating Nice Guys

25 Apr

So we realize we’ve been #1 talking a lot of shit about those whom we’d label “nice girls.” While these people obviously suck, we feel it’s a little unfair to limit our negative feelings to only this one group. Betches are all for equality, so we know that all nice people deserve the same amount of disdain. Namely, nice guys.

Betches don’t love bros so much because of their amazing looks and generous, caring ways. We love bros because they don’t automatically take all of our shit and don’t always respond to our clever #32 winning tactics. Offer me a ride home after I stay the night at your place? You’re done. Fucking desperate loser. Forget to wish me a happy birthday via both BBM and Facebook? +5 right there.

There’s a certain confidence that the nice guy lacks that makes us wanna vomit. (I guess they’re good for something!) Don’t be flattered if a nice guy asks you out, he’s the kind of tool who’s been on the prowl since he broke up with his latest lame girlfriend less than a month ago. If you’re a nice guy, it is virtually impossible to even attain #19 ugly hot status. And sometimes, even if you are hot, being a kind and overly affectionate person will end with you getting fucked over… and we don’t mean the kitchen table.

Granted, guys don’t have to be sadistic or mean for betches to like them, although it does help. But there’s a very thin line between being a moderate challenge and someone’s bitch. Sometimes nice guys are hard to spot, and we don’t realize it until we’ve already hooked up with them.

A cheek kiss will not get you laid.

Here are some signs you’ve encountered a nice guy:

1. He refuses to play mind games
2. He tells you how he feels far too soon
3. He talks to his mom several times a day
4. He’s president of the Academic Integrity Hearing Board at your university
5. He’s the friend who constantly goes on beer runs
6. He continues to contact you after you stood him up four times
7. He says you should take things slow… sexually
8. He listens to what you have to say and actually references it in later conversations. Ew.

So betches, if you find yourself entangled with a nice guy, don’t panic. Depending on how betchy you are, you can either ride this one out for fun to see how long he’ll keep coming back, no matter how many times you tell him his wardrobe is repulsive and that you hate kids and small animals. If you’re a nicer betch, you might tell him you’re just not that into him. Or, you could “wrong BBM” him something explicitly sexual with another bro’s name. Either way, you should wait until after your birthday to end shit just in case he has a cool gift lined up. We wouldn’t want anyone to waste their money, especially not on us.

You might also decide to keep him around on the off chance that he suddenly decides to become an asshole (yay!) and starts to ignore you. Then it’s only a matter of days before you’re in love with him and you can’t figure out why that is. Seeing him hook up with someone else usually does the trick. I don’t want you, but you’re certainly not allowed to fucking want anyone else!

Not to sound like total haters, it’s just that betches are very intriguing and complicated, and nice guys don’t fuck with our heads enough to keep us interested. A true betch won’t be won over with flowers and candy, instead the key to our hearts is to strategically ignore the fact that we’re hot shit and subtly insult us. Every betch knows the only thing hotter than a good actual fuck is a quality mind fuck.

32. Winning

22 Apr

So there’s this bro you’ve wanted to hook up with for a while now. Being the betch that you are, it’s only a matter of time before you conquer him. Obviously he’ll be the one to make the first move, as you’re so hot that you’re about as likely to pursue a bro yourself as you are to wear a corduroy skort to the bar tonight.

Cut to somewhere between 10 minutes and two weeks later, depending on the intensity of this bro’s game. He buys you a few drinks at the bar and before you know it, mission accomplished.

Let the games begin.

Here comes the endless analysis of every text, glance, and interaction you exchange with this kid for the next year and a half.

Since betches don’t have actual feelings, winning is not about the fulfillment of any sort of need for love and affection, or because you actually give a shit about anyone. Caring about others is for nice girls. (Unless you have a boyfriend, in which case keep that shit private because there’s nothing more disgusting than a happy couple.) Caring is the opposite of winning. Winning is our mechanism to get the ultimate prize: power and control. There’s nothing more important to a betch than being on top.

For a bro, winning is fucking a girl and never calling her again. For a betch, it’s receiving a 2pm triple text from the bro who thinks he’s the hottest shit around.

So how do you win? We’ve devised a handy points system for those clingy girls out there who don’t naturally possess our superior analytical skills and innate “fuck off” vibe.

Juliet wins!

Plus Points:

+2: #8 Don’t fuck him.
+5: Take his drugs and then #8 don’t fuck him.
+2: Let him buy you a drink, say you have to go to the bathroom, and never return.
+3: Let him go down on you then “pass out.”
+1: Casual flirting with another guy while he’s looking. (-1 for being too obvious. Plastering your face to this other guy’s makes you a skank, not a winner.)
+1: Wait two hours to read his BBM, +1 again if you don’t respond.
+6: Make a bro your bitch. You’ve scored these points if he holds your purse while you’re in the bathroom.
+1: Invite him over, be elsewhere.
+3: Cut to the morning after. “Why are you still here?”
+2: The next girl he hooks up with is uglier than you. +3 if she’s fatter.
+3: He leaves a voicemail. Game over.
+2: Laugh when he tries to call you out or confront you for doing any of the above. +3 if it’s in public.

Minus Points:

-2: Initiate drunk sexting.
-2: Show emotion.
-4: Stalking, in cyber space and/or in real life.
-3: Calling him. NEVER CALL. If you have to pick up the phone he’s just not that into you.
-1: Friending him on Facebook.
-10: Using the word “boyfriend” in any sentence with his name after you’ve hooked up three times. You’re done.
-5: Deleting him from BBM. You care, you lose.
-10: Crying. Betches don’t cry… they get even.

Stop it! You're embarrassing yourself and losing the game!

The irony about the game, which most people refuse to acknowledge, is that you lose points simply by choosing to participate. The object of the game is to be the one who cares the least, and you still care enough to play. That being said, what else are we gonna do with our time?

For betches, winning isn’t about the quantity of guys you fuck, it’s about the quality of your manipulation tactics. Always watch your game because it only takes one public display of tears to be labeled a psycho and lose the game forever. Remember, nice guys finish last… nice girls don’t finish.

28. The Drunken Brawl

5 Apr

Although betches are usually pretty good about keeping their shit-talking and insults on the down low, it’s also widely known that the right amount of alcohol lubrication can get the word vomit flowing in the wrong place at the wrong time. Enter the Drunken Betch Brawl.

Okay, so you’ve been secretly #1 talking shit about Alyssa for like three weeks now. Ever since you saw her talking to this bro at the bars who you hooked up with six months ago for like, 50 whole seconds, this betch has been coming way too close to #25 WYDEL status. However, you’ve been good at containing your shit-talking to sneaky BBMs, so the stupid bitch still thinks you’re besties.

Welcome to Friday night at the bars. After six too many vodka shots at the #23 pregame you head to the bars and all of the sudden you notice your drink has been accidentally knocked over by none other than Alyssa, your irritation of the moment. Given this perfect opportunity for fake payback, you immediately start to ball this betch out.

They should make more than one bathroom at the Jersey Shore house.

You fucking whore do you know how much this shirt cost!? I’d make you pay for it immediately if your parents weren’t so fucking poor that paying me back would demand a second mortgage on your house.

The brawl ensues, sometimes even escalating to a physical level where the bouncer or one of your bro friends has to hold you both back while others look on in awe. Everyone knows you don’t fuck with a betch. Mess with us, expect tears to stream down your face faster and harder than Niagara Fucking Falls.

Mind you, you probably don’t want to find yourself in this kind of entanglement with a betch you know personally, so you can only imagine the possibilities when a betch is in a particularly aggressive mood and shit goes down with a complete stranger.

Cut to #26 Spring Break and some random community college retard is taking too long in the bathroom stall. You and your besties need to get in like, now, so that’s when you pull your first move: slamming on the bathroom door like you’re the fucking Gestapo. Stop giving yourself an abortion in there when other people have important drugs to do, you trashy whore!

This is usually followed by the opening of the door and the ultimate screaming match. A typical brawl might include:

“Oh wow, I can see why you haven’t been opening the door, you’re probably trying to hide your gross curly-ass hair!”

“My ugly ass hair? Look at yours! Looks like somebody’s been using Loreal highlights home kits!”

Remember girls, nice girls finish last, and wind up waiting 45 minutes in the bathroom line.

We agree that it’s not the classiest move in the world to get into drunken fights and casually ball girls out, but if it’s acceptable for bros to get into fist fights, we can certainly pull the equivalent female move to make some stupid bitch wish she never crossed our path: making bitches cry.

Once someone cries it’s proper etiquette to back down. You’ve won, no one needs to go to the hospital, and the winning betch gets yet another confirmation that she is more powerful and better in every way. Sticks and stones may break bones, but call a bitch a fatass and the pain of the eating disorder you just sparked will last much longer than the sting of your betch slap.

23. The Pregame

14 Mar

Since betches always have a lot of shit going on, we often have to pick and choose which activities we can squeeze into our busy schedules. However, there is one activity that is our absolute priority no matter what. Pregaming. Betches will find an excuse to pregame pretty much anything. Besides the obvious major events like #4 birthdays, #12 tailgates, #14 dates, and #20 clubbing, short of taking the LSATs and going to our first day of work, it’s basically mandatory that we get fucked up before any and all activities.

Sorority initiation starting in 20 minutes? NO CHANCE I’m walking into such an event without sparking a j first! We’d all take the $100 fine for being absent before even considering attending sober.

Pregame hard, avoid rufilin.

OMG my cousin’s boyfriend’s dad’s birthday is tonight! Let’s throw a PG to celebrate in his absence! Cheeeeeeers!

So why do betches love pregaming so much? Besides the fact that it’s an excuse to gather our besties to laugh, bond, and #1 talk shit (and a lot of it), pregames are essential in that they ensure that wherever we’re going after, we’re not bored. Not bored = fucked up. If the day after, you still have vivid memories of your time at the bars/clubs/graduation/your grandma’s 90th birthday party, you know you didn’t pregame hard enough. Wait, did I really ask my grandpa for a drag of his cig last night? That’s more like it.

Betches also enjoy the exclusivity of pregames. Who will we invite? Who will be snubbed? Facebook invite or word of mouth?

Should we invite Dani? She’s been so annoying lately, giving me a play by play every 5 minutes of what she’s “up to.” Did I fucking ask what you’re fucking up to?! Whatever, hopefully she’ll bring some drugs.

Julie wouldn’t give me her notes from last week when I was hungover and didn’t go to class? Selfish bitch. She can drink alone!

Obviously as a betch, in addition to hosting pregames, you will be bombarded with invitations to attend a multitude of pre-bar events. Deciding which PG to attend is often one of the toughest decisions of our night.

Ugh, do we want to go to Jamie’s apartment? She’s never good for anything but Georgi! Cheap bitch! And Megan’s loser friends from class will probably be there. Whatever, it’ll be fine, we’ll just sit in the corner and drink their alc, while BBMing each other about how Lauren’s “new boyfriend” is really just a guy she fucked in the bathroom at a bar …once.

One of the biggest impediments to a sick pregame is your lame friend who decides she needs to “be a real person tomorrow” so she “isn’t going to get that fucked up tonight.”‬‪ Usually, that betch is fucked. Everyone will talk shit about her as soon as they part ways at the bar‬‪ and call her out for pretending to be drunker than she is when we’re out‬. WE ALL KNOW you only took 3 shots!!!‬ Being the lone sober betch, or the LSB (not to be confused with #17 LSC), is zero fun, and this betch will usually sit in the corner BBMing her boyfriend and thinking about many how more times she can get away with the “I’m sick” excuse. Bitch you’ve been sick for three fucking weeks.

This betch is not good for anything besides recounting funny drunk stories about the hysterical things you and your besties did when you were blackout, since she will be the only one sober enough to remember. But she’s still fucked because she’ll follow that up with some story about how you made a complete fool of yourself. Uh, sorry you think it’s embarrassing that I fell off the table last night. I personally thought my dismount was flawless.

Everyone knows that the best bonding occurs not over baking cakes and cookies, but over the three too many mimosas consumed during the drunk brunch before Amanda’s birthday lunch. Can I please have a mimosa? Hold the orange juice.

Oh no! It's Earth Day and we haven't pregamed yet!

Betches love a great PG because it combines our favorite things to do and gives us the alcohol lubrication that we need to divulge our deepest secrets. You and a few betches are chillin’ around a bathroom sink during the PG while passing your mail key around… What a perfect opportunity to share the story of how you gave yourself an abortion on spring break! All it took was some ecstasy and cocaine!

So if you’re trying to decide where you’re going tonight, the betchiest pregame should be your first choice. Actually a bro’s PG would be just as good (boys and booze, duh). Expect a shit ton of vodka, an array of the latest techno mixes from djCOHEN (aka the guy that lives down the hall who happens to own big headphones), and the coolest people you know. Remember betches, always bring your A-game to the pregame. It is your responsibility to set an example for others, prove how hard you can rage, and fuck anyone up who tries to get in your way.

20. Clubbing

7 Mar

Thanksgiving Eve, New Year’s Eve, Memorial Day weekend, Tuesday. What do these have in common, besides being the days your grandma calls you? “No grandma, I’m not seeing anyone special”…Well, other than that “special guy” from down the hall who I fucked in the laundry room last weekend. No, these days are important because every betch knows that her presence at a nightclub is mandatory.

While betches are happy basically anywhere they can get drunk, clubs are especially near and dear to our hearts. Ever since that first dance floor hookup when we were just little Betches-in-Training going to teen clubs, we haven’t been able to spend enough time in these raging temples of house music, drugs, and debauchery. So what’s so great about clubs?

Absolutely nothing. For the “of age” betch, nothing is more infuriating than the wrath of underlings trying to squeeze their skinny asses into a seat at your friend’s table. Maybe the fun lies in getting to see every fucking kid you’ve ever met at Lauren and Brittany’s Birthday Bash!!! Finding out you actually have zero degrees of separation with a stranger is pretty exciting for about half a second before you immediately stop caring.

You're a doorman. DOORMAN.

So why do we keep going back for more? Simple answer. Exclusivity. While the crowd can sometimes be an annoyance, you realize that people you know are generally the fucking shit, so they would be at the same place as you. The mere thought of those less cool people clawing at the bouncer to show him their IDs makes our automatic entrance that much more special.

A classic comment overheard on the line at the door usually sounds something like… But it’s my friend Adam’s 21st birthday and he has a table! He just BBMed me and told me I’m on the list!

Dream on fatty, everyone knows a purple BBM ain’t worth shit.

Honestly, what’s NOT to love about an establishment that screens its entrants so the ugly girls can’t come in and guys are only welcome if they buy tables and multiple bottles that you get to drink?

And then there’s always that one betch in your bestie group who, for whatever reason, does not get in. Maybe she started shit with the bouncer, who really knows? That sucks, but it’s not your fucking problem. Sorry, but everyone knows that once you get to the bouncer it’s every betch for herself. Meet you at the bar around the corner in 45 minutes!! …and 3 hours.

Good for you if you know where this is.

If you’re cool enough to make it past the front door, it’s time for the next challenge. BATHROOMS. The whole “you can’t have two people in the same stall” shit reallyyyy fucks with our sharing practices. We all know sharing isn’t betchy, but on club nights we make special arrangements, so please, dear bathroom attendant, just let me do my fucking thing. I’ll tip you five dollars over minimum wage!

As a betch, you’ll likely know at least two club promoters in whatever city you’re in who will constantly text you, pleading with you to come to the latest openings. Often these promoters are just bros from high school who are trying to avoid getting a real summer job. But who’s keeping track anyway!? He’s promising you a night of free alcohol, possibly even dinner, along with the chance to meet hot guys and celebrities and dance the night away with your hottest besties! Those bros who bought a table will probably feel pretty cool since they’re hanging out with betches, but just remember that they’re basically paying $2,000 for this table just to have an excuse to talk to you. You thought your Balenciaga was an investment, this bro gets to spend almost 20 minutes with you!

A betch will tell you that the best clubs are in New York City or LA, followed by whatever city she #3 studied abroad in. In reality though, it’s not about the city you’re in, because just about every major city has sick clubs. The point is that the betch will always be found at the absolute hottest, most exclusive spot around. When you’re stuck behind that velvet rope, the party won’t be the only thing you’re missing that night.

Even though we’re die hard club-goers, we realize that the experience can sometimes fucking suck. But no matter how much we might shit on them, we love clubs, we are clubs, and clubs would be nothing without betches to fall dance all over their tables and couches. So, if you’re looking for one of us, we’ll probably be grinding the night away at the trendiest club of the moment, crossing our fingers that the Wall Street Bro getting us drunk was just joking about still living with his parents.

16. The Post-Breakup Betch

1 Mar

On the rare occasion that the #14 date over winter break or the summer turned into an actual relationship, a betch will sometimes temporarily become a less cool and pretty version of herself and be completely consumed by her boyfriend. Suddenly, she’d rather stay in and watch Casablanca than roll face at Tiesto. Weird, we know. No one wants to hear about how sexy her boyfriend’s bangs look pushed back, especially when they could be raging at the bars, drinking shooters and soaking up each other’s awesomeness.

The only thing better than a betch with a boyfriend is a betch without one. The post-breakup betch is very similar to the #7 token crazy friend who is fond of #5 diets, #10 Candyland, and bros. After all, the post-breakup period is a betch’s time to shine. The newly single betch needs to show all those bros, especially that asshole who let her go, that she’s single and ready to mingle.

While nice girls may be heartbroken over a recent relationship and do horrible things like binge eat and cry in fucking public, the betch is over it. Whatever, his nose was crooked, he had a small penis, wasn’t that rich, his hairline was receding, and he was too close with his mom. She has no need to drown her sorrows in Taco Bell or waste her time making up revenge fantasies, because she knows that she was better than him in every way and there’s always another bro around the corner.

The post break up period consists of a series of events designed to re-release the betch into the wild.

Step 1: The Breakup Diet. Some girls think a breakup gives them a free pass to stuff their face with chocolate and ignore their workout routine. A betch knows otherwise. There’s never an excuse to be a fat loser. She knows that she was too good for that dumb bastard who lured her in with lavish dinners at STK and bottle service at Tenjune. She will use this opportunity to become even hotter, if that’s possible. The Breakup Diet is your basic, run of the mill anorexia/exercise bulimia assisted by a liberal intake of Adderall.

Step 2: Deleting Your Ex-Bro from BBM. This is critical because you will avoid #14 Sunday Morning Regrets by drunk BBMing him whilst blackout which could possibly embarrass you. Extra betch points for embarrassing him in public. Making him cry at the bars is a classic.

Step 3: Being (or Appearing to Be) a Ho Fosho. Wear your sluttiest freshman year outfits that border between nudity and prostitution immediately following the breakup. A betch knows she looks good naked, now it’s time for someone else to. This will also come in handy when posing with every bro in a ten-foot radius of her at the bars who she #8 hasn’t (or maybe has) already fucked, while her betches (perhaps secretly) snap pics. It goes without saying that her ex is creepily lingering in a peripheral area attempting to make eye contact while she shoots him a look that says, “you can go shave your back now.”

Step 4: Defriending Your Ex-Bro on Facebook. Of course, a true betch only does this after Sunday. Sunday, glorious, Sunday. The unofficial day for betches everywhere to upload their pictures from the weekend of debauchery into Facebook albums aptly named something along the lines of “Grundle Sweat is for Winners” or some other nonsensical and clearly inappropriate title. The point of waiting until after Sunday is to show her ex how crazy her weekend was, with 50+ photos of her practically nude, surrounded by hotter, cooler bros.

When all is said and done, the post-breakup period is a wonderful time for a betch and her besties. She returns to her former glory while her ex-bro unsuccessfully patrols the freshman bars for a less hot version of her to take to his formal.

For the unfortunate bro who let a true betch slip away, beware, you’re not dealing with a nice girl. She will make you more hated than Mel Gibson performing a Chris Brown song while wearing Ed Hardy at a Hitler Youth Convention.

14. Going on Dates

28 Feb

A lot of scary things happen when a betch goes out and isn’t drunk enough. Usually she’ll be like, really bored and chilling with her best friend, her Blackberry, which is okay because she’s sober enough to avoid sending embarrassing BBMs. But on some rare occasions, she’s actually socializing with people she may not know in a somewhat coherent way. There’s a first time for everything…

As is typical when a betch goes out, some guy will ask for her number. Surprisingly, you receive a text the next day at 2pm rather than 2am so you know something is up. He wants to take you on a date or “go for drinks.” Naturally, he texts you rather than calls to avoid the possibility that you and your besties have already nicknamed him “lanky button down man,” and that he will be laughed right off the phone. Also, he’s naturally intimidated by your blatantly oozing vibe that you are better than him.

Betches love dates because it gives them a chance to get dressed up and provides hours of opportunities just to talk about themselves. Also, free dinner! While a nice girl would be anxious about a first date, you’re not because you’re a betch and you don’t give a shit.

Many times, these dates occur over winter break or during the summer since everyone at college knows your entire sexual history and thus is unlikely to want to discuss it over dinner with you. This is great if you’ve been bad about #8 not fucking bros lately. But every betch knows the cardinal rule: never put out on a first date.

A first date usually winds up like this. You get there first. This is essential because it means you can sit at the bar and flirt with some other guy, knowing your date will see this when he arrives. All betches know that jealousy is a powerful emotion. He gets there, and things are rather awkward at first. You order a salad and a vodka soda. Forty-five minutes and four vodka sodas later things are looking up. This guy has gotten a lot hotter and you’re impressed by his hysterical stories from when he was #3 abroad in Rome. You bond over how overrated the Sistine Chapel was. After this he picks up the check (Side note: if he fucking doesn’t, you immediately #9 nickname him “Po’ Boy” and delete him from your phone), and he tells you he’d love to see you next weekend. Why wouldn’t he? You’d date yourself if you could!

Scenario C: The guy is so boring that you pass the fuck out.

Alternate endings:

Scenario A: If after five drinks you realize he’s not that attractive, and you can’t stop focusing on the disproportionate size of his ears, or if he uses nauseating terms of endearment like “beautiful” (a betch knows how hot she is, you don’t need to keep telling her), you tell him it was really nice to meet him and give him a kiss on the cheek, and head out to meet your betches at a club. It’s always best to accept a date with a backup plan for later.

Scenario B: If however, he’s kind of an asshole (read: Bro) and gives off the vibe that he might not call you back, you immediately make moves to prolong the date. As he walks you to a cab, you play coy but accept his invitation to go to another bar or chill at his apartment. This is usually followed by a lengthy makeout sesh, after which you get home and await his call 1-3 days later. The more unsure you are of his impending call, the hotter he gets and the more you build up a relationship in your head, envisioning drama and hot makeup sex.

All in all, when you get asked out on a date, it’s poor etiquette to say no. Assuming the guy isn’t heinous, you should say yes because betches are really good people at heart, and we wouldn’t want to deprive someone else of getting acquainted with the best person we know.

13. Sunday Morning Regrets

27 Feb

Though betches have few feelings, we sometimes have regrets. These are usually reserved for one day. Sunday. In the spirit of the second worst day of the week, here a list of a betch’s typical Sunday regrets.

Walk of Shame: During those occasions when a betch blacks out and #8 sometimes fucks a bro, and it’s not in the comfort of her own bed (side note: this often happens because betches are forced to wind up at his place where the prepaid drugs are), she has to endure the walk of shame. After realizing she’s not at home, a betch will first contemplate if this is a rare occasion when last night’s outfit was casual enough to pick up some iced coffee on the way home without having some businessman think she’s a hooker and solicit her for sex. Since your apartment is about a 90 second walk from this bro’s, you decide to take the hike.

When Lionel Ritchie wrote Easy Like Sunday Morning, it’s hard to imagine that he was thinking of anything other than watching a betch take her morning walk of shame.

While making a mental list of everyone this bro knows and is likely to tell that you fucked him, you head out the door. That’s when you see the nice girl from your biology class with her backpack, clearly headed to the library. You could duck and hide behind a street sign but you’re a betch so you have no shame. You’d rather walk through your college town with enough eyeliner down your face that you look like a member of fucking KISS than let this betch-hater think you have something to hide. She is clearly a fucking loser since she’s on the way to the library, and hey, you got laid last night while she was reading Jodi Picoult! Walk tall betch… after all, your pumps make you look almost 6 feet.

Sex without a Condom: Shit, have to get Plan B.

Sex with the guy in your Monday morning class: Shit, have to ask him for money for Plan B… along with his class notes from last week.

Drunk eating: It’s funny that I can spend all week eating lettuce without dressing, but after three shots of tequila I find myself ordering 28 boneless wings with extra bleu cheese and an order of fried cheesecake.

Blackout BBMs: Similar to drunk eating, blackout BBMs matter, even though you don’t remember sending them. But unlike drunk eating, BBMs are permanently out there to be read aloud to any audience, even if you deleted them from your own phone. No amount of working out on the elliptical will eliminate them from cyber space. They definitely provide excellent Sunday morning stories, but usually at a serious cost.

Sometimes it’s just sending one really embarrassing BBM:

Me: I’m DTF.

Sometimes it’s BBMing the wrong person the wrong thing: To the guy you fucked with the small penis…

Me: I couldn’t even feel John’s penis when he fucked me
John: What?
Me: Shit sorry, wrong BBM, different John

(Side note: Is that any better?)

Consistently BBMing the same person who’s not responding:

Me: Hey, what’s up?
Me: Come over
Me: Where are you? I’m at my apartment
Me: Are you not coming?
Me: Fine, don’t come over
Me: I’m naked
Me: You’re either coming over or you’re not.
Me: Fine, I’m over it
Me: Over it dot com
Me: Seriously, where are you?

And of course, there’s always the general drunk fuck up, such as when your best betch from high school visits and vomits in your shoes, and you wake up the next morning to find them in the dishwasher.

Sunday morning regrets, although traumatizing, leave a far funnier legacy than the sting of the embarrassment. Better to have drank and fucked up than not to have drank at all!

12. Tailgates

26 Feb

Out of respect for the fact that it’s Saturday, generally considered the best day of the week, we’d like to address one of the best ways to get blackout: TAILGATES!! Even though college football season is done, Saturdays in the fall are key to having a social life.

If you’re not willing to wake up at 7am to drink yourself stupid, you are committing social suicide. A true betch is ready to drink at any time of day, even if it means setting your Blackberry alarm for 7:05 after getting home at 5am.

Let’s go over how to properly tailgate while being the betch of the party:

Proper attire is essential. At big party schools in the north, predominately in the BIG 10, it’s all about rocking the school colors. A true betch will have a new shirt and accessories at every game, including necklaces, temporary tattoos, knee-high socks, sunglasses, and face paint. We mean EVERY Saturday, so arrange to bursar some shit at the school store and tell your parents you needed new textbooks.

For our big party schools in the south, tailgating is a little different. Here, it’s considered a serious offense to be caught not wearing your nicest frock. Southern kids look at these events as if they’re social galas straight out of the plantation era.

No matter where you’re tailgating, pre-tailgate rituals are basically universal. The bitch-betch must be the one to get the bagels and cream cheese, Starbucks, and chasers. I know what you’re thinking, betches don’t eat bagels! But eating a bagel, scooped out of course, is necessary or you will make a fool of yourself. Eat quickly, or share half your bagel with the garbage, and get to ripping shots as soon as possible. It’s considered poor form to show up sober at the actual pregame, so 5-7 shots at the PRE-pregame is customary. Oh, and be sure to bring the rest of the bottle with you to the real pregame. Betches are always prepared for emergencies.

Next you go meet up with the majority of your crew for the actual pregame at your bros’ house. At this point it’s around 9am. The game doesn’t start till 12. Yay, plenty of time to drink! Music is blasting, 85 kids are on the front lawn, the smell of marijuana and cigarettes fills the air, the funnel is getting passed around like that freshman who’s fucked all your guy friends, and everyone is getting absolutely belligerent. Soon you’re at the point of no return and you know it’s time to walk to the tailgating fields to start the real party.

The tailgate: Picture a scene with thousands of people and rows of cars that goes for miles. As you walk to where your bros have set up shop, a cop on his bike offers to open your beer for you. Your bros’ tailgate area consists of a tent with speakers and a grill, a keg, and the finest Karkov vodka for betches who won’t go near beer. It’s almost 10:30am at this point and you are really really really… I mean REALLY drunk. So you continue drinking. The grill is going, and this is when you shadily start your drunk munchies.

At 11:45 the tailgating fields start to empty out and it’s time to go to the game. But here’s the thing, when you go to a giant party school with a shitty football team, you’re not actually going. Besides, you can barely walk. This is when a true betch shines. You spot a Jimmy John’s delivery guy. A ride AND a sandwich? This is my golden fucking ticket. You walk up to him and shake your shit a little, and soon he offers to drive you home. Mmmm… I loveee the Beach Club.

Oh no, maybe they won't be delivering!

You get home but you’re stopped by that delicious smell coming from the pizza place next door (if you’re lucky and from Wisco, it’ll be covered in mac and cheese. YESSSSS). Okay betches. I know that we all want to be #5 skinny, but that is for during the week. You need to soak up that alcohol somehow. You get to your apartment and turn the game on. This is sooooo much better in HD!! You sit on your coach, roll your best betch blunt, and spark that shit up. Great fucking day.

Before you know it, you open your eyes and realize it’s 8:30pm and you’re still on that couch. You have 8 missed calls and 7 BBMs. You feel really shitty but it doesn’t fucking matter because you’re going out anyway.

A true betch will make it out for Saturday night and will black out harder then she did that day. This is what college is all about. If you cant handle it, transfer. I recommend for you Betches-in-Training, pick a big party school that tailgates on Saturdays. If you’re lucky, your high school betches that go to rival schools will come tailgate when you play each other, and if it’s a big enough game (or tailgate), your Ivy League betches will come and help with calculating your BAC. You get to spend the weekend with your best home, abroad, camp, teen tour, summer program betches, forcing vodka and beer down each others’ throats.

Listen, tailgates are the only exception for drinking beer. Choose your calories wisely during the week because when it’s tailgating time…anything goes, along with your dignity.

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