Alumni Weekend

Alumni weekend for Virginia Tech was this past weekend. I drove down with a sorority sister, Kathleen, and Po along with Kathleen's dog, Marley. The journey started on Friday when they picked me up from work. I left my keys on my desk so I wouldn't lose them during the weekend of fun. Bad decision.

Marley is a golden retriever. He is skittish and cute. Very golden. I got to sit in the back of Kathleen's pick up with him. The pick up was very small, so we put our luggage in the bed of the truck. Rides to Tech are always longer than I expect because I know how much fun awaits. Throughout the whole ride I kept getting texts of my ETA from Greg (BFFFF) and Geisha. It's a 5 hour drive, but certain obstacles stood in our way.

We pulled off to get gas and it seemed there was a storm a brewing, so we did what anyone would do in this situation and put our bags in large, construction worker trash bags. Marley is scared of loud noises, so he didn't take to that. This gas station felt like a scene out of Deliverance, so we quickly departed.

We made it all the way to Roanoke without traffic, and suddenly we hit it. Why you ask? Well it took about 45 minutes to get through it, and upon passing the cause, we realized we were really in bum f*ck Virginia. A hay truck. The hay fell off the truck. This major delays on a Friday afternoon in 'rush hour' of Roanoke. Pathetic. In the DMV, you get 89 car pile up, and limbs on the road to cause major traffic delays. But really, hay? No wonder it smells like sh*t driving down there.

We get to Tech, and I don't really remember much of this night, as we didn't rest from our drive to getting getting ready to going out. No dinner. All I know is, is that there are pictures I don't remember taking, with my friends I will never forget (second reference to this quote. See Sassy). The next day, Po asked me if I saw one of our friends from home, Tanya. I said No, I didn't know she was in town. Low and behold the first picture tagged of me from this night, is with Tanya.

The one thing I do remember from this night, is going to Joe's Diner with Greg. Now, I don't think I have ever gone to Joe's Diner without Sassy. I have never gone to Joe's Diner sober. I know it is small, and hole in the wallish. I know it is delish as well, but is it really? Does the alcohol hinder my judgement of greasy breakfast food? Sassy was not there that weekend because he is a faggot who went to his fraternity formals. I guess that's ok.

Anyways, Greg and I go to Joe's in Sassy's honor. We are happy. We are really happy when we sit down. All of a sudden, we started talking about something, and Niagara Falls starts to come out of my eyeballs. I start bawling to Greg about my lack of male companionship in life, and he starts crying because he is so sad to see me like this. He starts emphasizing how awesome I am, and we end up fighting over that. We hadn't ordered yet.

Finally the f*cking waitress comes around, maybe she was waiting for the storm to stop, I dunno, but she took her sweet a$$ time getting there. I hadn't even looked at the menu though, but I knew I was hungry.

This is how the conversation went:

Me-
"What can I get you?"
I'Ll HaVe The CHeeeSY EggsSs WAHHHH!!!..
With HAMM WAHHH waterFalllouttaEyeBalls...
And HAShBROWnS WaHHHHhh SoBB....
And TOAST wahhshhhh CRY TearS tEars WAHHeEEE

Greg-
"And you?"
I'llLL haVEE the ToTS WAHhhhhh sobbb CryIng
"Ok thanks"

She turns and walks away.

Greg and I continue our hot mess of tears, and I ended up yelling at him and screaming FINE GREG JUST LEAVE and I dramatically threw my MasterCard on table telling him that I'LL TAKE CARE OF THIS JUST LEAVE.

He doesn't leave, surprisingly. We end up walking home talking our life problems out. We sleep, wake up and  started drinking again.

We started drinking again as Maggie got a keg for our sorority's alumni tailgate. Maggie's apartment looked like hell, so we quickly cleaned for this impromtu tailgate.

After tapping the keg, Greg decided not to waste the foam. He rabie-fied himself, obvi.

This is Greg.

I found a gross mango on the ground, and Greg decided to throw it at the brick wall of Maggie's apartment. It looked like brain splatter, obvi.

See the mango/brain splatter?

We then went downtown after spending countless hours there. We were with one of Sassy and Greg's friends Bish, and her gay Raleigh. We went to a bar called Sharkey's, but decided to go to the Delta Sig tailgate. I of course had to pee like always, and I run to the bathroom. When I walked outside, what do I see? Raleigh and Greg being mature.

Get it? 

Walking to the tailgate, I thought I saw someone I knew, but in reality it wasn't him. It was someone identical to Asian, one of Greg and my best friends ( I apparently have a lot of besties). I saw someone in this group with Asian Look-A-Like, who I ACTUALLY knew and said CHRIS WE NEED A PICTURE WITH THIS ASIAN. The Asian Look-A-Like obliged. Why he asked, did we need a picture of him? Well DUH, you look like our friend Asian. He said "Asian Le?" YES! "Asian Le is my cousin!" OMG. All his friends were like, This is Chucky. Chucky? Really? This amazing. 

Asian Le on left.

La dee da. The rest of the day was fine. Went to West End. Got Sarah's Signature Salad- the chef. 

We go back to take a nap. We slept in Maggie's roommate's bed, and were awoken by Maggie's mom's friend. Greg wasn't wearing a shirt, and so she thought we banged. "DOES ALI KNOW YOU ARE SLEEPING HERE" Yes... and we did not do it.

That night it was raining. My hair was a mess, and my boobs were OOC (out of control). They looked fake. Miserable. We get to TOTS, and Greg essentially chugs two Rails because he is tall. We see a bunch of Delta Sigs, and we start chillin with them. I see Paula sippin' on a Rail. This was no ordinary Rail. This was a 22 dollar Top Shelf Rail. Essentially every sip you take (depending on your thirst level) costs around $2.49. I had about $4.90 worth of Top Shelf Rail, and it still took Paula around 500 minutes to finish. I forgave him though because he probably flew on his magic carpet to get here, and I don't know how efficient that kind of travel is... it shows his dedication to the Top Shelf Rail. 

We went to another bar because TOTS was crowded as f*ck, and Benjiman kept looking at my fake t*ts.

Nothing else really interesting happened until we go home to Maggies, and watch YouTube videos the rest of the night. Greg dared to show my YouTube, but failed to show his. His is about 29389 times better than mine, so I made everyone watch his G-R-E-G-O-R-Y video. You should watch it too.

Greg's YouTube

Sarah's YouTube

You decide which is better. 

I fell asleep. The next morning I awoke to the sh*ttiest smell of dog ass, as Maggie's mother's friend who thought Greg and I mated left her dog there (a hideous creature, but sweet), but before she left, she decided to feed it Kielbasa. Thanks Maggie's mother's friend.

Kathleen, another sorority sister, Petey Pablo, and I went 7/11, where Petey Pablo bought three toquitos for breakfast. 

We packed up, and went home.

The end. 

The Best 24 Hours of My Life

To preface, this took story occured in 24 hours. It felt much longer, as we accomplished fun that most people cannot pack into a four day weekend. I am a sweetheart to Delta Sigma Phi. Delta Sigma Phi has had the Virginia Tech Homecoming Queen two years in a row (pssh no me). The one in the picture featured in Sassy with my rail and me, (her name is MDave) and the one who, if not born, this story would never have taken place. We will call her Hazel. Happy Birthday Hazel.

It's Hazel's birthday on Sunday, so what better way to celebrate than to pack up a car and head on down to Richmond where she works to give people lung cancer (Philip Morris). Hazel's going to be 23!

In the car from Northern Virginia was Goetz, Po, and Paula. Paula is a dude. He is not white, but rather a brown man who I call Paula.

On our way to our meeting spot (Goetz's apartment), Po and I pick up an ice coffee at Starbucks. I already had to pee, but I mean, tis the season for some muther f*ckin' ice coffee. Don't tell me you don't like dat ice coffee. If you white, you like it. BUT it makes you have to pee.

When we pack in the car, I warn these three BROS about my urinary problem, but Goetz says "we will need to stop to get food, I am hungry". In my head I get a little panicked because once on the road, who really wants to stop?

The drive was fun, but I had to pee. I made it known that I could not continue to be fun if I could not relieve myself. We pull off to a Subway, and I sprint to the one person woman's bathroom. Fancy that, it was locked. Paula let's me go into the men's bathroom. Thank Allah.

Po and Goetz get a sandwich, 5 dolla footlong to be exact, and sit down to eat. I start to rave about the veggie patty on flatbread. Me talking about it makes me hungry, so I gotta get me one. I get one. We then start talking about a listserv they have, where they essentially send out cruel and unusual things. They sent a picture out of a girl we know who gained 100 pounds. We are done, so we get in the car and I tell them I HAVE to see this picture. They spend about 5-10 minutes looking on their iPhones in the parking lot, and I decided I need to pee again. Paula looks at me like a brown would look at a white when they say something crazy, and I run in and pee again. Whew

When I got back in the car, they showed me the picture. Sad, but so funny. Who doesn't love it when someone gains a small adult or large baby? She is basically all we talk about for the next 90 minutes to Hazel's.

At Hazel's, the five of us are just catching up with her. Po had just gotten back from Vegas. Hard life. He went for work for a conference. From the way he behaved, it would have been safe to assume he was just released from an interment camp. Damn that 3 hour time difference. DAMN IT. And DAMN being fed on per diem at Bobby Flay's restaurant. DAMN THE COMPANY CREDIT CARD IN VEGAS.

Just so you know, among all of our friends, Po is the most fun and by far the EASIEST person to pick on. If he was obese and was 10, he would be the boy from Up!

Oh how we love our Po.

After picking on him for a while, we start to get ready. We were getting ready to go to a brother's house about 15 minutes away before we go to Hazel's birthday dinner. We will call this brother, Miller.

There's a lot of names to be said, so get ready.

We get to Miller's. Geisha is there (she is another sweetheart, to add the total night's SH count to 3). Geisha has been BBMing and calling me all day, and has progressively gotten less coherent and more impossible to understand. Paula also keeps calling her "dirty ass". Benjamin is also there, and we will call him Benjamin because he is the oldest out of all of us, and during college (he stuck around after his graduation, thus his being older) he looked the oldest too. Old manish really. BUT he lost about 59 pounds, and turned into Benjamin Button. He looks the youngest now, and none of his clothes fit. Bock is also there. Bock is a blackout muther f*cker and the whitest white guy we know, minus the fact that he gets the Asian glow when he drinks.

Miller's house is fun. Geisha corners me after she showers and asks me if what she is wearing is slutty. Basically she is wearing a Hawaiian shirt with a black waist belt. Way too short. Her dirty ass was out getting dirty. She shows me her next outfit choice. Much better. Everyone else (all guys) tells her to put the shirt back on. She gets confused. She gets confused a lot. She wants a picture inside the kayak in the house. We get in the kayak, and review the picture. A word to the wise, if you are tan or Asian, do not wear brown panties if you intend on spreading your legs for a picture. This will appear to be your vag.


We take taxi's to Hazel's dinner. There are so many of us, and we are not sober, that all the people at the table were thoroughly overwhelmed. I get shunned by Hazel's coworker on my left, but thank god I have black out Bock to my right. He created new scale on rating girls: the Binary. Girls are either a 1 or a 0. 1 is f*ckable. 0 is not. He kept saying our waitress was a 1. On the normal rating scale, she was about a 5 or 6. On the binary scale, girls have about a 90% chance of being f*ckable. Whew. Thank goodness.

Hazel opens her presents. The Miller household and all males included, wrapped a box with porn in newspaper. I got her a card that sings. I also bought her a shot after dinner.

We make our way to the first bar where they have a table on a small stage. After about 45 minutes, they get kicked out of the table, to which the bouncers remove, so the small stage is a small stage for Geisha to get up and practice her stripper moves on. She does this, and brings Hazel along with her. I go off to find a male to talk to. The men were ugly. The bartender was hot though, but f*ck, there is nothing worse than a hot bartender. You know you won't be able to talk to them for the entire night, unless you want to be that jackass desperate girl (um hello... me?) that distracts him from his work. Sigh. There were no other options in the bar.

Our next stop is another bar called Black Fin. We start walking there, and the streets are made of f*cking cobberstone. Kryptonite for girls in heels.

Black Fin was nice. One of my sorority sisters and I poked fun at some dude who was fist pumping:

"Are you from Jersey"
"HUH?"
"Are you from Jersey"
"WHAT?"
"I asked you if you were from Jersey. You are fist pumping."
"FIST PUMPING IS COOL"
"ok"

Instant turn and walk away.

I go up to this table we have and the table next to us are blond girls who need some cheeseburgers. Geisha and I were dancing and one of the ana's calls Geisha a hoe. I know she was just jealous of our full figured, cheeseburger eating bodies (even though Geisha doesn't eat cheeseburgers).

The rest of this bar time was dancing and singing old school songs. Bock and Miller left, and Bock BBM's me out of desperation that he wishes he didn't leave. I sent him a few voice notes of us having fun without him. We know it's time to leave when we see Hazel getting into a rumble with a bouncer. Po takes care of her, taking her home with her friends.

This was the beginning of our night.

We walk to find a cab, and apparently some girl was mean to some dudes on the road. Paula starts yelling at the girl, who is walking underneath the bridge we are on. He calls her a dirty ass as well.

The cabbie doesn't know how to type into his GPS, and he doesn't understand the street we need to go to is Augusta. I told him it's a hard word.

We end up at Miller's again, even though we (we as in my carpool group) left our stuff at Hazel's. We watch some TV, Geisha and I are on the couch. We end up falling asleep together on the couch. Someone kept ripping our blanket off of us, which is the biggest dick move you could make. We end up head to feet on this couch. Someone was kind enough to put a pillow underneath my head and add another blanket. Thankfully Geisha is 5'2 and I am 5'10, so there is room for us. It's around 2:30 when we fall asleep. We wake up about an hour and a half later to Benjamin in his jockeys with a helmet on, and a reciept in the helmet making him look like a character from 300.

    Benjamin is on the left. I assume the one with the turban is Paula, and the one in the ninja flying stance is probably Po. 

Apparently Benjamin was getting angry at inanmiate objects, and ramming into them with his head. Bock encouraged this by telling him the "traffic cone was talking smack about McCoy" or "the port-a-potty was sh*t talking Joey". Uhm, bad move traffic cone and port-a-potty. Travis attacked head first, and ended up tipping over the port-a-potty. 

I'm glad Geisha and I missed the sh*t spillage.

They went into 7-11, making Benjamin stay outside. They told the cashier they had a retarded friend. Benjamin started pounding his head on the glass. 

This was the story we woke up to. They shouted we missed the party and I'm thinking these white people be crazy. I didn't miss anything. I liked my inner eyelids. 

Geisha and I fade in and out of sleep while the music blares. I awoke to them screaming SARAH WAKE UP and of course I obeyed, only to be punished with Benjamin's hairy ass in my face. He also dropped his jockeys a few times but would then pull them up. He kept saying "I WOULD GO NUDE IF THEY WEREN'T HERE" aw, what a gentleman. Not to say I wasn't exposed to anything. I saw his muff, butt, and peen. Good things to fall in and out of sleep to. He also kept saying he had a very small peen, and that "This is mine, and this is Joey's" Apparently Joey has a larger peen then Benjamin.

Eventually we are all asleep. I awoke to a beeping oven that Miller stuck his breakfast casserole in. Thankfully I removed it. It was tasty.

I gradually made everyone get up. We didn't know where Bock and Benjamin were though.... I did not mention this earlier, but Geisha made Miller post a tent up in the backyard for us to sleep in. Silly little Asian! We go outside and find Benjamin. Bock was with him. Delta Sigma Phi breeds bromosexuality. Benjamin slept on his stomach, head down, helmet on. Good visual.

They come inside, Benjamin keeps his helmet on.

After about an hour we decide to go to Waffle House. 

Po isn't with us.

We get to Waffle House, only to realize it was not a place optimal for 9 people. We decide to go to Denny's. Prior to this though, Po BBM's us asking us to pick him up. I mean, he was like far away. There was NO way were were picking him up. Instead, we comforted him by taking a picture of the Casual Male next door to the Waffle House. We asked him if he needed anything. They had 8 XL. Does anyone know how large 8 XL is? I can't even pull up a picture on Google of it. I said it's like two California King size bedsheets sewn together. Po didn't find it funny. We sure did though.

We end up at Aunt Sarah's Pancake House. Yum. This was the funniest breakfast I've ever experienced. There I was, in my outfit from last night (with heels), Geisha had a dirty ass, and Bock was turning red from one of the more embarrassing stories that's ever been told about him. It involves two fingers and a belly button, and a possible rape. No biggie. The rest of the morning/afternoon we went out of our way to make the two finger gesture to him. Po was temporarily relieved of his position of Number 1 b*Tch.

Richmond was fun. This is Benjamin:

This affirms my stance that white people love Backstreet Boys way too much. 

Sassy

This story dates back to last summer, post graduation sadly.  I am writing this out of spite for a certain BossHogg who reads my blog and says it's weak. Alas, I do live an exciting life on weekends, yet weekday adventures usually entail a lot of peeing and tripping through out my work week. I do love my BossHogg though. He keeps me and Sarah-ndipity in check.


I will begin by introducing you to Sassy. Sassy is one of my bfff's and I love him to death. I call him Sassy for a reason though. He is sassy. Duh. He dishes sh*t out on a silver platter and when you dish it back, well, that's where the title comes from. "Shut the f*ck up Raser you smelly little c*nt"

Oh Sassy! ;-)

So after graduation, I went home, was lonely, and had left all my stuff back at Virginia Tech. I decided to go back and pack up because a. I wanted that sh*t over with and b. I'd get to be with my Sassy <3 <3

Now Sassy moved into a house down the street from the apartment I moved out of. We decided to go to El Rod's for dinner with a bunch of friendst. El Rod's is a cheap Mexican restaurant in Blacksburg, that you must be highly intoxicated for in order to convince yourself the food is real food. It's tasty, but one wonders what the meat is made of, and if the water is sanitary or if it's imported straight from Mexico.



SIDENOTE: I have a friend, we will call her Disney, who gave head for the first time to one of the waiters.



Anyways, Sassy and I split a fajitas dinner. We get margs. This is the beginning of the worst hangover of my life.

The night progresses and I'm sure it's filled with a lot of Sassy remarks about my smelly vag and me being "irrelevant". Sassy knows the exact phrases to cut into someone's soul. It's a very good quality about him. He knows everyone wants a place in this world, so as soon as he drops the "You are irrelevant" card on the table, the victim in question, will instantly get on the defense and throw some sh*t back at Sassy. This is usually a dumb female, typically small, blond, and wants to f*ck him. That's another thing about Sassy-- women like him-- he is very attractive and girls tend to want him... badly. Also, these are the girls who tend to do that whole "Shut up! Hehehehe" thing when a Sassy calls them a smelly c*nt or saggy labia. Sassy wants you to fight him, that is how you get his respect. Go Google some comebacks on your bedazzled Blackberry and get back to me.

Back to our night, we bar hop and see people we know. We end up at the bar everyone ends up at, Top of the Stairs, aka TOTS. TOTS is an overrated, crowded breeding ground for frat bros and sorostitutes. I was/am a sorostitute, and occasionally fell victim to TOTS' lure. It's like a siren, calling all Greeks into its midst forcing them to drink all of its awful awful rail liquor shoved into one drink: The Rail.

This picture is an example of a Rail (not a picture from Sassy and my night). A Rail is a shot of vodka, gin, bourbon, whiskey, and triple sec, with sour mix, coke, sprite, and cranberry juice. It might not look large in this photograph, but trust me, my hands are large. I have abnormal hands, and before you think something sexual, there is nothing sexual to say. I have big hands "that's what she said"... nope, doesn't work. "You know what they say about big hands..." No, I don't. Big TaTas? Yes I have those, but they are not proportional with my hands. If they were proportional, they would be F's.

SIDENOTE: I am leaning on Virginia Tech Homecoming Queen 2009  in this picture, and the Queen's boyfriend is hovering above me. And that is my Michael Kors purple shoulder bag. I am celeb.

Back to TOTS. TOTS is a watering hole, so you expect to see people there. Upon entering the doors, after climbing the steep wooden steps, you pay a cover fee ranging from 2-5 dollars. This night with Sassy, there was no cover. 

He and I do the "Frat Lap" which, when the bar is crowded, is quite challenging, yet very fulfilling. You get to see people you might not see all the time, or you see someone from one of your classes that you actually have never met, but in your drunken stupor you are BFF's. It's also a good place to see your ex-whatevers and have some good awkward eye contact. 

Now, during the summer, Blacksburg is not crowded. You can move around in bars without touching people, and this night was like that. We had our friends from dinner with us, so it was fun and there were a few other people we knew. We got our Rails (2nd bad decision) and we parted ways. I went to go socialize with some of my bro's and ho's, likewise with Sassy.

I sat outside with one of my sorority sisters who we had dinner with. She was smoking, and she was hammered. Hammered, as in if she reads this she will not remember this incident whatsoever. I will call her Gazelle (she is tall, pretty, and reminds me of a gazelle). Gazelle and I friends, we lived in our sorority house at the same time, we bond over being tall and single.

Sassy comes over. He is from North Carolina, and when he drinks, his southern drawl gets more and more drawl-ish. He is smoking, and he starts chatting with Gazelle and me. Remember Gazelle is black out.

We are talking about something unimportant apparently because within a few minutes of Sassy standing there, Gazelle reaches her hand up his shorts and yanks. I think she grabbed ball. She MIGHT have grabbed peen. Who. Knows. 

Now picture it: Sassy standing, Gazelle hand up pant. Sassy looks at me with this look a child might get when assaulted by a funny uncle. I laughed.... little did I know how it would affect him.

Post-yank, Sassy pulls me aside and with his southern drawl says something along the lines of "RASER-- she pulled my balls. She stuck her HAND up my pants and PULLED!" I mean, Sassy has told me some crazy sh*t, so I didn't think much of it. So she grabbed your balls? Big deal. I've been grabbed and yanked before and you don't see me crying. My insensitivity to the situation might have ticked Sassy off because he felt he couldn't emphasize it enough that he was just fondled by Gazelle in public. I thought about it for a second, and realized that if it had happened to me, I would flip. BUT it didn't, so I laughed at him.

Poor Sassy.

The night continues on into drunken memories I do not remember (WiTh FrIeNdS i WoN't FoRgEt). 

Sassy is infamous for his late night food addiction, so we try going to his local hot spot diner for 4th meal, but it's closed. The only times I've ever gone to this diner are with Sassy. Something usually happens, whether it be a fight, or a tot flying across the room, or someone yelling PLAN B at the annoying girl who won't shut her trap.

I tell Sassy I have eggs left in my fridge I need to get rid of. We start walking home, and low and behold, Gazelle finds us and follows us home. I love Gazelle, and she is always welcome in my home. Sassy is suffering from PTSD, so he is clinging on to me for dear life. 

We go up to my apartment, I cook the eggs, Gazelle passes out on my short couch (poor thing, she is so long and I DO have a longer couch). Sassy likes to make passed out people into his own Etch-A-Sketch drawing with a Sharpie. He is so lucky I have the entire spectrum of colors for Sharpies. He starts to draw on her while I cook the eggs. I went to see what his artwork and he turned her into a colorful Charlie Chaplin. She is wearing blue flannel. Envision that.

Sassy's inspiration

He and I finish off the eggs, and decide to open up my last bottle of wine. We take it out on the porch and finish it off. This is the third and last poor decision of my night. 

Now, Sassy is not circumsized. I had never seen one of those before. I asked him about it and he tells me it's like a corn-dog, where you can pull the corn up & down the dog. I asked to see it, and he says no. He starts peeing off the balcony (classy, Sassy) and I corner him and make him show me. He does. HE IS RIGHT. I touched it too. I slid the skin up and down that veiny thing... He may have just been peeing, but NO MATTER! I got to play with an uncircumsized peen (in a completely non-sexual way)!

Fun times.

We woke up in my bed (again, nothing sexual, just cuddly friends). I think Gazelle was gone. I go back to bed, and I think Sassy left soon after.

All I remember from the morning after was still being drunk from the wine, and progressively become more and more hungover throughout the day. I vomited and was mad at the world. This was one of the top 3 hangovers of my life, and I pray nothing beats it.

Recap: Sassy got yanked, with and without consent. His peen received a lot of action that night, but unfortunately for Sassy, none was of the nature he sought after.

The End.

Pregnant

... not me.

I was off doing my stalker thang on Facebook the other day, and stumbled upon a gem of profile. Brandon Ore. He had  baby... a baby boy to be more specific. I guess someone let one of his soldiers slip through the cracks...

Now, I've been on high of watching marathons of "16 and Pregnant" on MTV. No matter what time of day it is, it seems this show is on. Not complaining, as it is highly addictive and entertaining. The only problem I see with it is, is the fact that the producers and television crew treat the girls like it's a nature show on Discovery or Animal Planet: they don't intervene. They see these horrific creatures reproducing, and they do nothing to stop this? Do none of the camera men have the urge to push these teenagers down the steps or accidentally punch her in the stomach? Do they not advise them about the alternatives to raising a child? Adoption? Abortion?

It seems the uglier the couple, the more likely they are to reproduce. Such blemishes on society.

Wrap it before you tap it, ladies.

Christ has risen.

... again. What is this, like the 2010th (or 2009th) time this has happened? A little repetitive, don't you think Jesus? Hopefully his first words to Mary after this "resurrection" were something along the lines of "Bitch, make me a sandwich." I mean, I would be hungry after 3 days of being trapped in a tomb, not to mention the whole "crucifixion" thing. They probably didn't feed him while on that damn cross. And really, I'd be so pissed at Judas for selling me out, and then having to wait like 6 weeks to ascend to Heaven. That blows. After my resurrection, I'd find Judas and make HIM make me that sandwich INSTEAD of my poor virgin mother. Hopefully he would learn the error of his ways after the realization of that a. I am resurrected b. I am not a zombie and c. I am the mother fucking Son of God. Don't mess with the best, Judas.

Funny

I guess some people mistake her stank face for sexiness.