|
Jennifer_Fly
|
read my profile
sign my guestbook
Name: Jennifer
Gender: Female
Interests: Eating, sleeping, watching anime, talking with friends, taking part in retarded acts that are dangerous to my sanity and health, and embarassing my friends.
Expertise: Being sarcastic, extremely blunt, and all around reatrded. Leading female figure in the field of procrastination. Being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Oh, and I am pretty good at being totally illogical and random.
Occupation: Student
Industry: Research
Message: message me
Member Since:
3/10/2003
|
|
| Everyone is doing it. Seriously. I think even Joy Wells is getting it in the back alley from some foul old white man with a huge beer belly and a penchant for incest and bondage. Yes, I know that was uncalled for but the kid read gay erotica for silent reading so he's just asking for being including in a gross example of mine. Upon entering college, I have discovered many things. However, the one I find insanely fascinating is that most of the stereotypes about college sexuality are true. Everyone comes out in college, mostly because with all the alcohol that is flung your way it is pretty easy to mistake a man for a lady or a lady for a man and find out you're cool with it. All college students are sex fiends, people are banging everywhere, anytime, with anyone. Awkward? Highly so. But get used to it incoming freshman because your roommate is probably going to have sex on your desk, bed, and chair. The elevator is probably soiled beyond belief and I'm pretty sure the library you want to study in is covered in semen and vaginal fluids. Your roommate is a chronic masturbator. If you're a guy, it means you guys will be comparing wank material every so often. Or that you will see your roommate's penis in all its glory before it shrivels into a pathetic mess from the shame of getting caught. Girls, I don't think you really need to worry about this. Your concern will mostly focus on how your slut of room can't live without a penis inside of her at all times even when you have to go sleep on the bottom bunk while she's get pounded a mere foot above you. Doing extra credit for your professor = blow job. Curtis Miniami probably knows this best, but I'm pretty sure that those single Chem professors out there can attend to the validity of this statement. By the way Curtis, how are things going with the Professor? Hope you passed the class! Anyway, many revelations about people's sexual preferences and activities have been made to me and I feel overwhelmed by all this new knowledge. Also, for the first time I feel kinda behind. Like that big ugly dumb kid that had to stay behind in fifth grade two times because he didn't know how to read. And there isn't anything I can/want to do about it. At this rate, I really will end up a hardcore asexual/lesbian lumberjack with 15 cats all named after dead presidents or something. Oh well, I better start stocking up on flannel. Congrats to everyone who is getting ass. Good luck to people are still trying. Sorry for the ncoming freshman who will be scarred horrifically for the rest of their lives. And by the way, everyone watches porn in college. EVERYONE. Especially people named David Mah and Andrew Ngo. They watch it together if you get what I mean.
Mental Nymphomaniac,
Miss Jennifer Ly of the Round Brown People
PS
I fucking can't wait for the next season of Desperate Housewives, LOST, and Project Runway. And I don't a brain tumor, I have a swollen sinus. Also, never hold a firecracker in your hand. You really will lose your hand.
Creative writing bit:
Harsh and rapid, his breath was deafening in her ear. His embrace was a little too warm, almost burning her skin. Then she smelled it. That damned scent. Her hands were guided by anger and flew to his face. "You lied," she looked him straight in the eye. He looked down. "You're still fucking him." | | |
| Shite. I can type in fonts that I have never typed in before. How bloody exciting. Anyways, finals have befallen us scholars and I think I might end up being one of the men/women left behind in battle. Boo hoo. I also have gained the infamous freshmen fifteen and if I don't do anything soon I'll end up a 647 pound woman. I'm neither joking nor exaggerating. Watching the Discovery Channel's program on morbidly obese people I have noticed that all of the subjects had one thing to say, "I never thought I would get this big." Seriously guys, I don't want to worry about being smothered by my own body weight. So next time you see me waddling across the street, just scream out at the top of your lungs, "GET A MOVE ON YOU GREAT BIG COW!" as a form of support for me to loose the excess of me. You don't necessarily have say those exact words, but something creative along those lines would great as well. Don't be embarassed though. When I say I mean anywhere I mean anywhere. If you see me at the dining halls, in lecture, discussions, going to take dump; you as my friend are obliged to remind me of my status as a FatGirl.
Another thing, don't get mad me because I never pick up my cell or because I never put up an away message when I walk away. I am a FUCKING free spirit so please if I don't feel like being chained down by the suffocating technology of today's impersonal world. Besides, if it was really important you would call Sirena, Anna, or Yeng and find out where I really was and tell me. Most of the time I am just going to get lectured or find out some inane piece of information so I don't know why people get all uppity when they can't reach me. Sucks to their ass-mar then.
Well, pray for my soul people because I got to go and try pass all four of my classes this quarter. D FOR DIPLOMA!
Struggling Scholar,
Miss Jennifer "Curve-Dependent" Ly
P.S.
Tommy Tiernan rocks. I love handicaps. Pool makes me relaxed. And I might just be pregnant.
Sentence Shorties:
His hands were huge on him. "Like a caveman," he thought while listening to a lecture on equilibrium constants. A chuckle next to him arose. "No. Like a sculptor's," she whispered, never missing a beat. With her hands on his, he did not care if his hands were indeed big or not.
Sweet shit. I told you I was pregnant. | | |
| Because I love quizzes and it's winterbreak. 
|
| Half-Cocked
Random Brutal Sex
Dreamer (RBSDf)
Fiery. Hungry. Blatant.
Sexual. Christ. You are Half-Cocked.
There's a lot
of wild lust inside you, banging around,
that much is obvious. There's also a lot of untamed emotion. When either escapes, look out. One minute you're
completely together, the next you're a
howling gale of hormones and opinions.
Outside relationships, your intense,
mercurial personality makes you a
charmer. You can be fiercely devoted, and it's likely that many of your friends will be friends-for-life. Of
course, your enemies are likewise
certain and zealous, especially your exes and their therapists.
Your
exact opposite:
The Maid of Honor
Deliberate Gentle Love Master
| You will find the right person. In the
short term, he's someone virile who
won't sweat your imperfections. In the long term, he will be someone mature and caring who will
grow to love them.
ALWAYS
AVOID: The Slow Dancer
CONSIDER: The
Playboy, The Billy Goat |
Link: The 32-Type Dating
Test by OkCupid
- Free Online Dating.
|
Take the quiz. You know you want to.
| | |
| Happy Birthday to me! Half way to thirty eight, I am fucking
ancient. Fun times indeed. I am struck with insomnia at the
moment and have no more clean clothing. I also finished watching Howl's Moving Castle for
the second time and my teeth want to rot from the saccharine sweetness
of it, but I cannot refrain from indulging in this guilty
pleasure. Ghibli Studio productions without fail turn me into a
blubbering romantic. I am not sure why, but watch ing Miyazaki's
work makes me want to believe that magic still exists in this harsh
world we live in today. The romantic interactions between the
characters are actually believable. There aren't epic ballads
extolling the girl's beauty or heroic escapes by the boy to prove
himself a man; just small gestures and subtle tone changes. Like
in Spirited Away,
Haku (the boy that kinda looked a girl) and Sen (the girl that looks
like a girl) have an innocent bond of trust that ultimately
transform into an indescribable deeper feeling. In a Western
cartoon this type of emotion could never be showcased because Sen would
have ended being some fucking princess making it mandatory for Haku to
make out with her and marry her because you know Disney, princesses are
never single for long. If anyone who is reading this says Mulan
is a princess and that she didn't get married until the second film, I
am going to have to fucking eat their baby. No one that retarded
deserves to procreate. In the end, what I am trying to say is
that I love fairy tales and love stories despite the hateful ignorant
bitch I am. I may not be from the deep South, but I am from
Southern California and thus entitled to proud stupidity.
Anyways, Catherine Polityllo I know you are going to end up reading
this xanga entry sooner or later so here are some words to you: ASB is
retarded. Please. The Horse? All I have to say.
And please again. You're junior now and thus entitled to what I
like to call teenage angst. This is the period of time when you
are just angry person because you have to wake up. It's
normal. Just ask Helen and Anna. We were all bitches Junior
year. Fucking SATs, class, getting fat, and many other things
just build up and make you want to torch the school except you don't
because if you do then you can't get into any colleges. Don't
worry. This anger will pass and fade away into a phase of
indifference your senior year. That's when you get to give up and let
yourself go. YAY! Until then hang on babe. Stuart and
George, sorry I called you guys pussy. However, the fact that you
even responded to my remark about your pussyness proves that you guys
are indeed vaginas in the first place. I do concede though that
David Mah and Tyler Ha are pussies also and should have been added to
the list of man-gina in the first place and for that I truly
apologize. So to emphasize the subject of this entry: I really
love Miyazaki and fairy tales. Gimme more of that sweet sweet
concoction Daddy-O!
I am a fool,
Jennifer "But I'm a fool for you" Ly
| | |
| When I finally decide to commit and become a member of the fairer sex,
I want to spend the rest of my life with a boorish, rude, inconsiderate
bastard of a man. The logic behind this is that I would be an
equally awful, shrewish, whore of a woman and I do not have to feel
any guilt about it. Plus that way, I would alwas have an object
of hate/affection to occupy my time since everyone knows that a girl
has to have someone to
hate. Only problem is that most bastards are fugly
little pussies. I could probably deal with fugly since my sister
says I already have a terrible taste in men (e.g. I think Richard Gere
is attractive, so what if he could be my father, still finger licking
good), but I refuse to put up
with a pussy (e.g. Stuart, George, Clifford
Tsang). If I am going to spend the rest of my life with a
bastard, I want a fucking HARDCORE bastard. He is going to be a
scruffy, ornery,
bitter asshole that brings everyone down to his level and refuses to
let anyone including himself any ounce of happiness. My hope for
a husband would be a wretched cesspool of cynicism, sarcasm, and dark
humor. Picture the bastard Professor Snape from Harry Potter or
that fucking douchebag Tyler Durden from Fight Club. Those men
are gold to me. Can you
imagine the hell spawn that such a union would produce? It would
be unbelievable. Our child would be a little ball of darkness
that probably is a gateway to hell or something like it. That is
assuming that he doesn't beat me to
death first. So an additional requirement of this fictional
anti!husband would be that he is a bitch that figures he
can't do any better than me and treats me decently, but knows that
because I can't do any better than him he can still give me
plenty of shit. My imaginary husband and I would one of those
notorious
couples who hate each other, but are too lazy to do anything about
it. Nothing fights that only Dane Cook could imagine would be a
constant in my life. We would always be one step away from
leaving the other, but we both refuse to be the one that leaves first
since it would be a sign of weakness. Just of thought of this
wonderful life of matrimony gives me tingles in fingers. I have a
weak spot for
dysfunctional relationships, but knowing me I am sentenced to a life of
either celibacy or a wife of a utterly mundane nice man. How
unfun. Where's the suffering, bitterness, and drama in
that? Life is boring without those things. Those things and
the promise awesome recreational sex are what make life bearable.
Alright, enough with the fantasies of
awful men. It's time to get down boogie with life science.
They tell me I should be dead by now,
Jennifer "Always Bitchin" Ly
| | |
|