Instagram. The new Facebook – which was the new MySpace, which was the new Aim, which was the new LIVE talking. It’s all the rage these days. It’s the way we show affection to those we love, throw jealousy at those we hate, and tell the world just how deeply inspirational, artsy, and deep we are. Not to mention cool. Yes, it proves just how much James fucking Dean we exhibit on a daily basis.
And without Instagram, think of how unfulfilling our lives would be. Every beautiful sight would just be a view to remember. Continue reading →
I know I’ve been MIA for a long time now…and I’m sorry! I recently renewed my domain name, JenAndMen.com, (wouldn’t want any porn sites snatching it up), and now I’m back in business. I’m switching up my posts a bit. As you remember, I have a long-term boyfriend now, Mark. This means I won’t have my same crazy bad date stories, because I won’t be going on any bad dates lol (unless, of course, I catch him staring at a waitress’ boobs, or something, haha. Don’t worry, I’ll still have my super insightful views, funny anecdotes and, of course, my friends’ insane dating sagas. Keep reading, faithful readers!
Anyone who knows me well will tell you that I will spend my money on just about anything. I will not, however, give my local movie theater one more dime! Back in the day, when I was 15, movies cost $6! Now it’s $15 just to walk in the door! (Wow, I’m old.) God forbid if you want to see something in 3D!
This is why I bring my own snacks, ghetto-style, to the movies. I sneak in candy, drinks, and other treats. I used to bring water bottles or M&Ms, but now I’m daring with cans of soda and bags of Butterfingers minis.
When I proudly told my cousin about my deviousness, she said, “Candy and soda? You’re an amateur! I pop my own popcorn and bring it in a ziplock baggie!” Continue reading →
My friend Marissa is a little freckled Irish Promo Girl. That basically means that she goes to events, bars, clubs and liquor stores and talks up a particular alcohol to sell. Sometimes she’ll even give out samples and little give-aways.
A couple weeks ago, her boss asked her if she wanted to work a short shift on New Year’s Eve. Since it was double the pay, she decided to take it. When she got to the location, though, that’s when things started to get funny. Continue reading →
We all do it. Wake up, feel like crap, and decide, “Hey, it’ll be a great idea to forego makeup (if you’re a girl) and doing my hair (unisex decision) and go out looking like I feel.” Then, about twenty-eight seconds after making this lazy decision, we realize it may not have been our finest choice. Usually this realization comes from good-looking people throwing garbage at us.
There is nothing worse than someone insulting you (whether purposely or inadvertatly) right at the beginnig of a night that you thought you looked hot. The weekend of my birthday, one of my best friends, Alexa, took me to the Jersey Shore to celebrate.
I looked awesome. I had on a hot pink mini skirt that I’ve legitimately been waiting to wear for a full year. I threw a wife-beater and a belt with it, straightenend my hair, perfected my makeup, and put the final touch on my bithday ensemble: a tiny pink and crystal tiara that my mom had given me.
Magic Mike is the best thing to happen to me and my friends since Fifty Shades of Grey. We’ve dubbed this move the “best worst movie ever made in the history of the world.” Whoever had the INGENIOUS idea of getting five of the hottest guys on the face of the earth and putting them in a movie in which they had to remove their clothing and dance should be given a Nobel Peace Prize. As a matter of fact, I will personally present it to them if I can stop salivating long enough to stand on a stage and hand over the award.
Yes, the lunatic in the hot pink/zebra dress is me. And, yes, I am giving a lap dance to a complete stranger on stage in front of a restaurant full of people at a transvestite cabaret. As you can see in the progression of photos, I went from shy and afraid to wild and crazy in a matter of about ten seconds. What? I wanted to win the contest! (And I photoshopped a censor onto my leg in the third shot in case you’re wondering what the hell that is, haha.)
This past weekend, my girlfriends and I went out to Lucky Cheng’s to celebrate my 25th birthday. (I know, I know, I’m insanely old.) For those of you who are not familiar with this establishment, it is a restaurant/drag queen cabaret. Within five minutes of choosing between two drinks — the Pink Pussy and the Flaming Poon — we witnessed a lap dance that made even me blush.
Having a therapist is awesome. It’s someone that you literally pay to listen to you bitch and moan. But I think there’s something even better than therapy – and that’s having dessert with your girlfriends. When you get to be a certain age, and have a job, and a boyfriend, (and a blog), things tend to get a little busy. Every once in a while, though, you have get off your lazy ass and hang out with your friends, to blow off steam and bash the guys you’re dating.