Boobs: Girl's best friends or worst enemies?
Let's talk ta-tas. Yes, its about time we went there, loyal readers. Let's talk about boobs.
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Let's talk ta-tas. Yes, its about time we went there, loyal readers. Let's talk about boobs.
If it's later than 2 a.m., it's a booty call. It doesn't matter if you're a girl or a guy, the rules of booty calling do not discriminate.
I know that "lodging" is a celebrated tradition here at the University of Richmond -- it is an unexplainable phenomenon that shows nothing if not the class, grace, integrity and general respect for personal space that every Richmonder possesses as a general condition of his/her being. Jokes.
OK, I know that I wrote about Ring Dance for last week's wonderful edition of The Collegian, but to be honest, Ring Dance and Ring Dance-associated activities took up my entire weekend, so I'm going to just write about it again since I haven't been able to explore any other hot topic social questions like, where do all those missing socks and hair ties end up?
I can feel the heat on my skin; a refreshing breeze is blowing all around me; the faint smell of coconut lingers as I soak up some rays.
I love myself and I hate myself, but my diet starts tomorrow.
It might be because I've been listening to Taylor Swift's new album on repeat since it came out, or perhaps it's the fact that I shopped online for wedding dresses yesterday during chapter with my roommate, or maybe it's because the last thing my apartmentmate and I did before bed last night was snuggle into the covers with my laptop on the hunt for the perfect engagement ring, but marriage is definitely in the air this week (and by week I mean the last three years of my life).
As you walk by, you pull out your phone, you search through your bag, you start an intense conversation with your friend walking with you, you claim momentary deafness, you have a sudden coughing attack ... you do everything, you try with all the innovativeness of a University of Richmond student to avoid making eye contact.
I decided to go home last weekend with the intention of getting some sleep, saving myself an estimated 3,000 extra calories and making significantly better life decisions so that when I woke up on Saturday and Sunday I could look in the mirror and be OK with the person looking back. None of these things would've been accomplished had I stayed at school.
There are a lot of questions out there, and there are certainly plenty of answers, but riddle me this: What did we do with ourselves before Facebook?
Why is it that taking out the trash is actually one of the most annoying things in the world? It is one of those irritating little chores that you are in total and utter denial about doing, and for no particular reason.
What a week!
Say it's a sunny Friday afternoon, you just finished classes and you're free for the weekend. Say you and your friends decide to go to Short Pump to do some shopping and grab dinner before you go out.
OK, so this topic is very near and dear to my heart. Every time I think about it, I just can't help getting a bit fired up ... about Boatwright bathrooms. Why, why, why are the restrooms in the most awkward places in the library?