The Giggle Loop, or: How I Almost Got Fired Over a Hot Pocket

My friend, Chris, mooned me at school. It was lunch time. I’m sure I deserved it. I don’t remember what I said to him on the bleachers to make him get up abruptly and walk halfway across the football field before revealing two fluorescent white ass cheeks, then calmly walk to French class, but I do remember that I somehow ended up in the principal’s office for the incident, not him.

Perhaps it’s this memory, or my longstanding disdain for authority, that made my biggest fear about teaching high school that I wouldn’t be able to maintain a straight face in the middle of an absurd disciplinary situation.

Today, that fear was realized.

11th grade – we were all waiting for the guidance counselor to come in to talk about scheduling classes for next year. A raised her hand.

A: Can I go see Mrs. H and get a Hot Pocket?
Me: What?
A: A Hot Pocket. You know, with the dough, and they have that pizza filling inside.
C: Yeah, those joints are good!
Me: Yeah, I know what they are, and I still don’t understand the question.
J: Mrs. H sells Hot Pockets for $1.
Me: What?
C: And sandwiches, and cookies.
A: And sometimes, chips.
J: You should do it too. You could make a lot of money.

The enormously high percentage of students at my school who qualify for free lunch comes to mind. This is the only way I can make sense of what I’m hearing. We’re still a couple hours away from lunch, and I wonder whether A has eaten yet today.

Me: Ok, fine.
R: Can I get one, too?
Me: Sure. Why not?
A: You want one?
Me: No, thanks.

Less than five minutes later, one of the assistant principals – the one who’s seven feet tall – is at my door with A and R, livid. A is eating a Hot Pocket that smells like old broccoli. The AP is holding a clipboard and wearing a houndstooth blazer that I could wrap around my body three times. R is looking at me, expectantly.

AP: Have A and R been in your class at all today?
Me: Yes.
AP: Did you tell them they could leave to get a Hot Pocket?
Me: I did.
AP: Well, A is on a no-pass policy.
Me: I didn’t know that.
AP: Can I speak with you alone for a second?
Me: Sure.

I open the door for A and R and, from deep inside room 108, someone sings, “Hoooot Poocket,” and it begins: the Giggle Loop. I feel the corners of my mouth twitch slightly upward.

AP: Why would you do that? If this was some other class, maybe. But this is English. Come on.

And – there. There’s where it all went wrong. Because I don’t know how to talk to authority figures, I couldn’t decide whether there was any use trying to explain that I was concerned about whether A and R’s parents feed them. I assessed AP’s level of fury and concluded that I was going to get browbeaten either way, and any attempt to explain why I might have felt like it was ok for two students to leave class for a few minutes and buy contraband Hot Pockets in the middle of English class would be regarded as a flimsy excuse for my perceived negligence. And, of course, the absurdity of having to stand in the hallway defending my pedagogy over a black market Hot Pocket made the whole thing ludicrously funny. Eventually, I spoke again.

Me: Well, is there an official Hot Pocket policy?
AP: Pardon?
Me: I mean, would it have been ok for A and R to get a Hot Pocket from Mrs. H during lunch, or would R have to go get both of them because A is on a no-pass policy? Can you only buy Hot Pockets during elective classes?
AP: Look. We’re trying to help you, and we’re doing the best we can. We have a hard enough time keeping kids in class without you sending them out for Hot Pockets.

Hoooot Poocket.

Me: Ok.
AP: They need this class.
Me: I know. But I can turn my classroom into a concession stand, and you’ll look the other way?

Hoooot Poocket.

AP: No, I’m not telling you to do that.
Me: Right.
AP: I should write you up for this. But, I’m not going to.
Me: Thanks.

But now I wish he had written me up for this. I would highlight every mention of Hot Pockets, frame it, and put it on my wall.

Scenes from work.

.

Rejected album cover for Blood on the Tracks.

.

.

No opportunity to lower the bar left behind.

Welcome to my class.

Big Brother saw you do a half-assed job on your Beowulf drawing.

This outrageous act of teenage rebellion brought to you by Sharpie.

Get that crazy-ass mother off your skull.

"I can change."

Say what you want about reality TV; it can be cathartic as a Greek tragedy. For example, at tonight's Tool Academy reunion show, we all learned that Shawn, my TA favorite, impregnated a girl he met and fornicated with at a gas station (presumably all on the same day but, really, who knows).

"I love you."

You know, even after Shawn accidentally drunkenly depantsed himself while impersonating Matsuflex and we all saw the arched, tattooed text above his junk that says Kung Fu Hero, he was still my pick for Tool Academy winner.

.

Even after he picked fights with all the other tools and routinely used the word "bro" without irony, I still had a soft spot for Shawn. I really believed in him, which must be symptomatic of a larger problem.

.

Shawn's inability to learn how not to be a tool seemed a personal affront to me; so, tonight, when the TA reunion host asked him if he was still a tool, and Shawn confidently said "Yes," I realized: I was rooting for Shawn because hopeless tools are kind of my thing.

.

Ah, yes. And now my life makes sense.

Talking and Not Talking.

o hai

I saw Girl Talk in Baltimore last night and, even though the show was at Loyola, it never occurred to me that I might be surrounded exclusively by undergrads (except for Brian and Simone, who were equally bewildered). I guess I might have guessed things were going to get weird when I couldn't find out which building the show was in, and there were no signs for parking, and there were no crowds of Hipsters looking bored while smoking.

I was expecting a normal Girl Talk show, like this:


But it was kind of like this:

There was a whole lot of walking around and texting going on. That audience was having a hard time focusing -- on mashups -- and I felt kind of like this:

Let's play a drinking game!

... every time this show is on, smash me in the face with a beer bottle until I lose consciousness.

The Dude Manifesto

Three years later, I still get the occasional email request for copies of the Manifestos. And one day, they will almost certainly get one or both of their authors in trouble.

The Dude Manifesto
By Sarah G. & Meg T.

Dedicated to those two Dudes in the Taco Bell parking lot, February 19, 2006. Because Dudes love Taco Bell.


The Complexities of Dudedom

Though it is not immediately visible, the Dude is a very complex creature. Dudes really like winter because they can snowboard, ski, and throw snowballs at faggots. When a Dude sees a hill in winter, he thinks about how totally awesome it would be to descend it at an extreme speed, because the Dude loves extreme speed. Yet, the complexity emerges in the Dude’s winter wardrobe. Dudes have no patience for winter clothes – especially winter coats – because that symbolizes weakness in a Dude’s mind. The Dude stoically endures winter, insisting that it’s not that cold outside. Real Dudes can take the cold without something pussy like a fleece-lined jacket to protect them. To a Dude, a hooded sweatshirt is a winter coat. Dudes never use the hoods on their hooded sweatshirts because Dudes always wear hats.[1] Sometimes Dudes pair their hooded sweatshirts with sweatpants. This shows he is fully prepared for winter, and Dudes love sweatpants almost as much as they love track pants, and definitely more than corduroy. Dudes hate corduroy.

Dudes often perform the peculiar activity of wearing shorts, usually mesh, in the winter because a) they love mesh shorts, and b) wearing shorts shows that they are definitely Dudes. Shorts show that the Dude is strong. He can take the sub-zero temperatures. Though it is rare, Dudes are sometimes seen wearing huge, fluffy parkas with mesh shorts (see also Aberration: The Jersey Dude). This is the Dude’s way of saying, “Hey, I know it’s cold, but it’s not a big deal” because if there’s one thing a Dude hates, it’s when people, especially bitches, make a big deal out of things.

Further evidence of Dude complexity is found in the Dude’s love of cars, in particular, Jeeps. Dudes love Jeeps because they’re unsafe, impractical, and expensive to maintain – everything the Dude wants in a vehicle and a bitch. And Jeeps are a big hit with the bitches, which is another plus in the Dude’s mind.

But the Dude also loves spoilers, and as of yet, no one’s figured out how to attach a spoiler to a Jeep. So, sometimes the Dude prefers a car he can modify. Dudes love to modify cars. Sometimes Dudes just say “mod,” as in “mod car” because Dudes like to exert the smallest amount of energy possible (see also Dude Names). Modifying a car usually entails installing a spoiler, a loud muffler, and tinted windows. Little cars are good for modifying, but don’t ever tell a Dude a little car is good for the environment. Dudes hate the environment almost as much as they hate faggots. Recycling, for example, is for hippies and lesbians, thus the Dude refuses to recycle. A Dude is perfectly content being surrounded by garbage and, though he probably doesn’t know what it means, the Dude is really glad he lives in a throwaway society because the Dude loves to throw stuff away.

Another example of Dude complexity lies in his consumption of energy drinks, as the Dude never physically manifests enthusiasm, energy, or excitement. Emotion pisses a Dude off. The Dude is always low-key.

When Dudes Dress Up

When Dudes go out they wear enough cologne to sedate a small horse or a group of eight to ten bitches.

A Dude’s idea of dressing up is wearing khaki pants that he’s just Febrezed because Dudes love Febreze. To a Dude, khakis are formal wear, and though he may have multiple pairs of khaki cargo pants, he sticks to sweatpants or track pants for informal affairs. Dudes wear a very specific type of jean – not too tight, because tight jeans are for faggots and pussies. He usually wears a thoughtfully disheveled jean to impress bitches, faded and distressed to perfection.

Dudes know the best way (and perhaps the only way) to pick up bitches is to shop at Hollister for jeans and striped button up shirts with a collar the Dude may or may not pop, depending on how sassy a Dude feels.

Usually there is only one Dude per group with a popped collar. He is the alpha male Dude. Dudes pop collars in much the same way roosters puff up their chests to attract hen bitches. Layered popped collars, increasingly rare, are the ultimate symbol of Dudedom. The Dude with multiple popped collars is the King of All Dudes.

In the absence of popped collars, bitches can look for the Dude with the most gel in his hair to find the alpha Dude. One popular Dude hairstyle that necessitates a lot of gel is the upward vertical Dude bang flip, in which the front of a Dude’s hair is gelled upward to resemble a duck’s ass.[2]

Dudes know not to wear hats when they go out to get bitches. Dudes sometimes struggle with this, as Dudes love to wear hats. New Dudes[3] occasionally wear hats when they go out. New Dudes must learn on their own, usually through observation of older Dudes who are getting bitches, not to wear hats out. Other Dudes won’t verbally instruct young Dudes because Dudes don’t really like to talk that much, unless it’s about March Madness, bitches they’ve fucked in the recent past, or bitches they intend to fuck in the immediate future.

Dudes only wear sneakers or shoes that look like bowling shoes, except in the summer, when they wear flip flops almost exclusively. The summer is also when Dudes pair layered t-shirts with a white coral necklace, a shell necklace, or a hemp necklace. Dudes sometimes get excited (though they’d never admit it) for summer because they can show off the tribal tattoos on their shoulders, calves, or biceps.

Dudes know they have to dance when they go out because that’s where the bitches are. Some Dudes prefer to stand at the bar drinking so they can watch bitches from afar. These Dudes hunt in packs. They really hate to dance, and if you try to make them, they’ll get really mad, and Dudes hate to get mad because showing emotion is for pussies. Dudes don’t know how to dance, so they employ the surprise attack strategy and dance all up on a bitch from behind. Dudes keep their hands around a bitch’s hips and sway back and forth with varying degrees of pelvic thrusting. This way the bitch won’t see that the Dude doesn’t really know how to dance. Dudes won’t dance within five feet of other Dudes if they can help it because they don’t like competition, plus they don’t want to look like a faggot.

A Dude’s evening out is never complete until two bitches make out. If a Dude is feeling particularly generous, he’ll buy both bitches a shot of Jaeger. This practice also serves as a way of marking the Dude’s territory and says to other Dudes, “I’m spending twelve dollars on these bitches, so they’re mine.” The ultimate goal of this interaction, for the Dude, is a threesome. Dudes love threesomes, as long as it’s with the Dude and two bitches, because Dudes hate sausage parties.

Dude Pets

Dudes occasionally own iguanas or venomous snakes, though most favor Pit Bulls or, as a last resort, Dobermans. The Dude’s dog generally weighs at least 80 pounds.[4]

Dude Names

True Dudes have one-syllable names – preferably ones that end in D, such as Chad, Brad, Todd, and Thad, although Chris, Mike, and Matt are also popular Dude names. If a Dude happens to have a very undude name, other Dudes will probably create a nickname for him, usually derivative of the Dude’s last name (i.e. Smitty, or Big D).

Dude Food

Wine is for faggots. Water is for pussies. Dudes prefer beer. Dudes love Chinese buffets. Dudes also love energy drinks, which range from the Vault/ Red Bull family to the Gatorade/ Powerade family. Dudes have sophisticated selection processes for identifying acceptable finger foods. Chicken wings and chips please the Dude palate, and either item alone can function as a meal. But don’t ever offer a Dude a finger sandwich or a canapé because those foods are gay. Dudes use hot sauce as a topping for everything. Dudes prefer to grill their food but, if grilling is an impossibility, Dudes will happily settle for Taco Bell because there’s hot sauce there. Taco Bell is a site of Dude-to-Dude bonding and, occasionally, bitch watching. Dudes go to Taco Bell in groups and sit together while they don’t talk. Dudes love to pay seven dollars for a turkey sandwich, and consider Panera fine dining. Dudes can be seen streaming out of Panera in droves wearing striped button up shirts and jeans from Hollister while they guide their bitches by putting a hand on the small of the bitch’s back.

Dude Entertainment

When entertaining a Dude, the most important thing to remember is that art is for faggots. Don’t ever take a Dude to the theatre, a poetry reading, or an art gallery. Dudes love X-Box. Dudes love text messaging because they don’t have to talk, and are easily seduced with a texted invitation to light fireworks, drink some beer, and then smash the empty bottles on the ground. Some of the more athletic dudes may also appreciate an invitation to play beer pong, while refined dudes with a discerning aesthetic sensibility enjoy judging wet t-shirt contests or Rear of the Year competitions.

Dudes have extensive collections of songs that make bitches dance (see also When Dudes Dress Up). Dudes love classic rock. Led Zeppelin and Lynyrd Skynyrd are dude favorites. Some Dudes also like Bob Seeger but not, like, in a gay way. Dudes can be spotted at concerts shirtless and sweaty, using one hand to hold a plastic cup of beer, and another to project the international dude rallying cry, “Play Free Bird!”[5] Even without popped collars, alpha male Dudes can be identified in this setting by the bitch (also, occasionally, shirtless) sitting on the Dude’s shoulders.

Dudes love Fight Club because there’s a lot of punching in it. So it makes sense that Dudes also love to lift weights. Dudes love porn, and favor the lesbian genre.[6] Dudes love Sports Center because it’s on ESPN. Dudes also love Scarface. Anyone who doesn’t love Scarface is gay. If Sports Center and Scarface are on TV at the same time, Dudes experience inner turmoil, and Dudes hate inner turmoil. Dudes love The O.C. and Laguna Beach because those shows feature a bunch of fine bitches. Marissa Cooper? The Dude would love to hit that. Dudes love Family Guy because Peter Griffin is an older Dude that Dudes can look up to. Plus, Lois is one hot piece of animated ass.

Dudes like movies with explosions or burning buildings because when bitches get trapped in burning buildings they take their shirts off to beat the heat. Dudes’ favorite movies feature former Saturday Night Live stars. Dudes love John Belushi. Many Dudes appreciate the subtle nuances of character that Chris Farley brought to his performances, while other, more highbrow, Dudes prefer the emotional depth found in Adam Sandler films.

Dudes rarely watch whole movies because Dudes really like to sleep. Dudes take at least one nap per day. Between napping, playing X-Box, and getting bitches, Dudes don’t have time to watch whole movies in one sitting.

Dude Spirituality

Dudes get freaked out when they have to talk about religion. The Dude only goes to church if a bitch makes him (see also When a Dude Loves a Bitch). Despite the Dude’s unfamiliarity with spirituality, the Dude has strong opinions regarding religion and favors Christianity without exception. Other religions are for hippies because they’re gay.

Academic Dude

The Dude is most ubiquitous on college campuses and further evidence of Dude complexity is found in academia. Dudes major in business, communications, or engineering even though they hate writing, talking and studying. Dudes think writing papers is for faggots, so they often refuse to staple their papers as an act of protest and Dude solidarity. When Dudes have to write papers, they write about sports because no other topic is interesting. The Dude’s presence is almost overwhelming to meek bitch instructors, so Dudes never volunteer to answer questions or contribute to class discussion. Dudes sit in the back of classrooms and roll their eyes or sleep during gay classes like English, only occasionally altering their routine to stretch and loudly yawn, scoff or guffaw, or to ask if the class will be dismissed early.[7]

Aberration: The Sensitive Dude

Sensitive Dudes listen to Jack Johnson, Howie Day, and Ben Harper. Sensitive Dudes quote Dave Matthews songs to get bitches and hang wall-length tapestries in their dorm rooms. Sensitive Dudes are hard to spot by sight alone, and are only apparent when they wear a blazer over their hooded sweatshirts. A Sensitive Dude will sometimes claim to know how to play the guitar, but if there’s one thing a Sensitive Dude does know, it’s that his sensitivity is a big hit with the bitches.

Aberration: The Regional Pride Dude

A Regional Pride Dude is a Dude who loves to hunt for bitches and deer. This Dude usually displays an American flag somewhere on his Jeep, SUV or truck, and is the only variety of Dude who enjoys country music.

Aberration: The Jersey Dude

The Jersey Dude is one of the proudest of his kind. Think male peacock. Easily recognizable even from a distance by his unduly arrogant swagger, the Jersey Dude is a prolific representative of true Dudosity. Jersey Dudes are rarely caught without a cell phone on one ear, though they clearly contribute to conversation monosyllabically, if at all. Jersey Dudes’ one visible ear protrudes from the bottom of a baseball cap and displays at least one gold earring to match the gold chain around the Dude’s neck. Some Jersey Dudes adorn their necklaces with gold crosses (see also Dude Spirituality). Jersey Dudes are the only variety of Dude who entertains the possibility of wearing rings.

In winter, Jersey Dudes pair an oversized, puffy parka with a hood trimmed in faux-fur with a pair of mesh basketball shorts, sneakers, and white ankle socks. However, under the parka, the Jersey Dude’s winter wardrobe is unchanged from his summer wardrobe; the Jersey Dude is widely credited with originating the “wife beater” trend and Jersey Dudes wear wife beaters year-round to most occasions (see also When Dudes Dress Up). Wife beaters are the perfect way for Jersey Dudes to show off their tribal tattoos.

The Jersey Dude is the only Dude who listens to techno. Jersey Dudes are among the most liberal and inclusive of the Dudes, as they have relatively low standards when it comes to bitches.[8]

When a Dude Loves a Bitch

Dudes make a habit of text messaging several bitches the same message before going out. This has multiple benefits. Dudes hate to organize, write lists, or make plans. So, by doing this, the Dude can efficiently select a bitch to spend the evening with without wasting time talking, as he can quickly identify the bitch with the most appealing plans and proceed accordingly. This also allows the Dude to keep tabs on all his bitches, and reserve a backup bitch to keep on standby in case plans fall through with his first choice bitch.

Dudes know bitches don’t enjoy Dude activities (see also Dude Entertainment), and Dude courting rituals respectfully acknowledge the differences between sexes. Dudes on dates pay for dinner, and then complain about the expense of bitches after the date to other Dudes. Dudes hate when bitches open doors for themselves because the Dude loves to feel needed. Bitches that are independent are lesbians. In exchange for the Dude’s consideration and attentiveness, bitches are expected to lead conversation by asking the Dude questions about himself, giggling and offering compliments accordingly.

Sometimes bitches get all uppity and accuse a Dude of cheating. This is an ugly myth, but a common misconception. The truth is Dudes don’t intentionally cheat on bitches; the Dude is monogamous by nature, preferring not to spend any more time and money on bitches once he’s secured a steady bitch. It’s just that all bitches look the same and act the same because they are the same, so sometimes the Dude cheats accidentally. It’s hard to keep track of the bitches because they’re all orange year-round, they all wear gaucho pants and really big sunglasses, and they all carry either an oversized bag covered with sequins, or a Dooney and Bourke.[9]

Sometimes Dudes are forced to pull a Houdini[10] when they get their bitches mixed up. But truly committed Dudes are noble and self-sacrificing. For example, a Dude will go to church for a bitch.[11]



The Dude Dictionary

Bitch: every woman, except a Dude’s mother.
Cock block: a person or action that prevents a Dude from getting with a bitch.
Dyke: a female that does not desire sex with a Dude.
syn. lesbian; feminist.
Faggot: a male who is not a Dude.
Freeball: to go without underwear.
Houdini, The: after sex, the act of getting dressed, then quietly slipping away while a bitch is in the bathroom.
Sausage party: an unsatisfactory ratio of Dudes to bitches.

Dude synonyms:
Chachi, sometimes shortened to Chach.
That Guy.




Quiz: Are You Dating a Dude?

1. Has he ever started and ended the same sentence with the word ‘Dude?’
2. Can he speak a complete sentence?
3. Does he prefer not to?
4. Is he the sort of guy that would have a really good time feeding mice to a snake?
5. If it were somehow possible to punch poetry, would he do it?
6. Does he own more than four hooded sweatshirts?
7. Does he ask you to write his papers for him?
8. If he knew what the ACLU was, would it piss him off?
9. When you ask him if he’d rather go to Taco Bell or punch a faggot, does he seem to experience inner turmoil?
10. Has he ever asked you to make out with another bitch in the hope of scoring a threesome with you and your friend?
11. Has he ever mistaken you for another bitch?
12. Has he ever downloaded a Motley Crue ringtone?





*** If you answered Yes more often than No, you’re dating a Dude.



A Dude’s List

Likes:
Hooded sweatshirts
X-Box
Jessica Simpson
March Madness
Beer
Girls Gone Wild videos
Sleeping
Metallica
Bacon
Modifying cars
Family Guy
Lifting weights
Hot bitches

Dislikes:
Belts
Poetry
Hillary Clinton
Philosophy
Wine
CNN
Voting
Emo
Tapas
Folding Laundry
Sex and the City
Diversity
Vegetarians[12]



[1] Dudes favor either a basic baseball cap, or a knit beanie with a bill attached.
[2] It isn’t recommended that you tell a Dude his hair looks like a duck’s ass though, as he might think you’re really calling him a faggot.
[3] Dudedom lasts approximately from age 16 to 30.
[4] Coincidentally, Dudes also prefer bitches that weigh about 80 pounds.
[5] The international Dude rallying cry was, for a brief time, replaced with “I’m Rick James, bitch!” But when the novelty wore off and it was collectively decided that that was gay, Dudes reverted to their classic catch phrase.
[6] Although in most cases the word ‘lesbian,’ in Dude vernacular, denotes any woman who does not desire sex with a Dude, in the context of pornography, ‘lesbian’ is synonymous with ‘hot bitch.’ In most cases, ‘hot bitch’ is preferable to ‘lesbian’ because the former only requires the Dude to utter two syllables.
[7] Dudes especially hate poetry, and react with unfettered hostility to assignments that require them to read British authors. Dudes write a hyphenated form of ‘faggot’ to amend titles in expression of their displeasure with poetry in library books around the country, i.e. Faggot-Assed Collected Poems of T.S. Eliot. If a Dude could punch poetry, he would.
[8] Jersey Dudes can often be seen with Jersey bitches.
[9] The sorostitute, a subcategory of bitch, prefers Coach, Gucci, or Louis Vuitton, but Dudes can’t tell the difference because designers are all faggots.
[10] The Houdini, in Dudespeak, is the act of getting dressed, then quietly slipping away while a bitch is in the bathroom.
[11] Dudes don’t go to church to meet bitches, but if a dude ends up with a Jesus-loving bitch, the dude will go to church on major holidays (see also Dude Spirituality).
[12] If a Dude knew what a vegan was, he’d hate vegans even more.

The Sorostitute Manifesto

Three years later, I still get the occasional email request for copies of the Manifestos. And one day, they will almost certainly get one or both of their authors in trouble.

The Sorostitute Manifesto
By Sarah G. & Meg T.

Dedicated to that Sorostitute Meg overheard talking to her Dude who said, “I’m starving. But I’m not eating today.”


The Complexities of Sorostitution

The Sorostitute is indigenous to the United States.[1] No one knows why it’s cool to be a Sorostitute[2]. Sorostitution lasts an indefinite period of time (see also Sorostitute Entertainment). A novel cultural oddity, the Sorostitute is a fascinating paradox. Self-absorbed, yet utterly lacking self-awareness, the Sorostitute drifts through life without any system of values or priorities in place until, as suddenly as it began, Sorostitution ends.

The Sorostitute is unable to discern or assign value.[3] Either she likes something, or, in her mind, it doesn’t exist. The Sorostitute’s anger, therefore, is fascinating; though she is seemingly surrounded by things she likes, she still suffers from general malaise and discontent (see also When a Sorostitute Loves a Dude).

Collectively, we really want to believe that the Sorostitute is harmless. Dangerous Hollywood stereotypes (i.e. Legally Blonde’s Elle Woods) portray the Sorostitute as a benevolent idiot, eager to improve the lives of others. In reality, the Sorostitute is more similar to a bronzed, highlighted caged animal; a quiet violence bubbles just below the surface. Do not provoke the Sorostitute.[4]

Sorostitutes only experience four states of being: angry, bored, reflective[5] or semi-conscious. The Sorostitute doesn’t know why she’s angry. She doesn’t even know she’s angry. She knows no other way.

Sorostitutes strive to stand out for their sameness, and openly hate anyone who does not share the Sorostitute lifestlye. The dominant feature shared by Sorostitutes is consistent anger. Sorostitutes are loose canons.[6] While always hovering near the point of blind rage, the Sorostitute is especially annoyed by waiting. It’s not that Sorostitutes are inherently impatient, it’s just that they don’t understand waiting because they’re obviously more important than everyone else. Sorostitutes are used to making demands and having them met in a timely fashion. They hate thanking people, because gratitude shows weakness in the Sorostitute’s mind. Gratitude is for beggars and they’re gross because they’re poor.

The Sorostitute’s anger is always self-centered. They get really angry, for example, when they have to wait to turn left at a traffic light or when they have to wait three weeks to get highlights, but they don’t get at all upset about injustice done to others. The Sorostitute doesn’t even notice social injustice because if it’s not about her, it might exist, but it doesn’t matter.

The Sorostitute does not grasp the concept of time. It’s not that she doesn’t care about the past or the future, it’s just that she is in and of the moment. This is a key feature of the Sorostitute; she chooses to dress and adorn herself in accordance with current trends, abiding by cultural standards of beauty. The Sorostitute, therefore, loves pain. Ever willing to wax, varnish and char herself, the Sorostitute is a product of our time, embodying our intrinsic social mores. It is important to remember, then, that we must be patient and wait for Sorostitution to pass. We created the Sorostitute and, though she is unpleasant to encounter, we can only blame ourselves for her presence.

Another key feature of the Sorostitute is that she is always at least partially blonde. Brunettes get highlights and diet. Redheads must compensate by being tan.

Sorostitutes all communicate in a nasally, sing-song voice and will never end a sentence, preferring instead to trail off because they expect you to know how they would end the sentence if they could be bothered to do so. Failure to understand the Sorostitute often results in frustration on her part, which she takes out on whoever’s closest to her.

Sorostitutes are serious by nature and hate humor, but get a big kick out of other people’s misery if they somehow benefit from it. They don’t think it’s funny when homeless people ask them for money because poverty pisses them off, but they think it’s hilarious when another woman gains weight, breaks up with her boyfriend, or falls down in public. Sorostitutes think there is a limited amount of happiness to go around in the world, so someone else’s suffering means more potential happiness for them. Unfortunately, the Sorostitute can rarely enjoy her victories, as she has to maintain the veneer of being angry or bored at all times.

Not that the Sorostitute ever does anything, but she refuses to waste time. Really, all she ever does is shop, tan, buy lattes and get drunk. The Sorostitute lives in the moment. She’s uninterested in the past or the future because she only fully comprehends the present. She’s very carpe diem. No day but today.[7] Sorostitutes don’t engage in free time. They are not even familiar with the concept.

Sorostitute Mobility

The Sorostitute is always on the go. During daylight hours, the Sorostitute is most commonly seen in a vehicle, fluffing her hair, reapplying lip gloss, or berating her passengers. Sorostitutes like the Jeep Liberty, the Jetta, the Honda Civic, or the new Beetle.[8] They’ll also drive anything with a BMW, Mercedes, or Lexus logo.

The Sorostitute is almost always on her cell phone, and driving is no exception. She’s plotting her next location, which is either a tanning salon, a mall, or Starbucks.

At night, the Sorostitute is either at a bar or at a party with a bar in it, but she’s always bored and impatient to get to her next location so she can look bored there.

When Sorostitutes Dress Up

The Sorostitute will not tolerate wavy, curly, short, or monochromatic hair. Lips must always be shiny. Shoes must be open-toed. In winter, boots must have stiletto heels.[9] It’s essential that shirts worn out on Friday and Saturday nights be conducive to body shots. At least one item of clothing should be bedazzled. She should be wearing that bracelet from Tiffany’s with the tag on it. The Sorostitute’s cell phone must also be dressed up, accessorized with a TRL ring tone and a jewel-encrusted exterior.

During the day, the largest sunglasses possible are worn, which are also normally bedazzled. Sorostitutes love pairing frayed denim with skin belts. In the Sorostitutes’ mind, frayed denim is ideal because it can be dressed up or down; when worn with heels, any piece of frayed denim becomes formal wear. The Sorostitute counter-intuitively prefers to wear heels for all occasions and can be seen tottering down High Street, clutching someone’s elbow for balance and yelling into a jewel-encrusted cell phone.

Sorostitute Pets

Sorostitutes own dogs. The smaller, the better, much like the Sorostitute herself.

Sorostitute Names

Sorostitutes are almost always named Ashley. But sometimes they have names that end in ‘A,’ like Shana, Jenna, Kara, Laura, Kira, and Sara.[10] Occasionally, they’re named after complimentary abstract concepts, like Faith, Hope, or Charity, and they see nothing funny about that. The fastest growing group of Sorostitutes, though, has unisex names like Riley, Taylor, Adrian, and Ryan.

Sorostitute Food[11]









Virtual Sorostitute

Sorostitutes have Myspace pages because their lives are better than yours. The Sorostitute’s Myspace page is very well maintained, yet completely devoid of substance, much like the Sorostitute herself. She usually has at least 300 friends, only three blogs, which consist of her terrible, reflective poetry, and a slideshow with the same, repeated pose of her with three or four other people holding shots. The background is predominantly lavender or pink hued with star outlines and / or hearts. Any amount of animated glitter is a bonus.

Her interests are limited to “hanging out,” “meeting new people,” “shopping,” “tanning,” and “just doing whatever.” Her pictures showcase her, scantily-clad and / or kissing other Sorostitutes, or posed with her Dude at a moderately priced chain restaurant. Her song is carefully chosen from the catalogues of Beyonce, Jessica Simpson, or Nick Lachey. Somewhere on her page, the Sorostitute should express her displeasure and boredom with her geographic location.

Every comment left for the Sorostitute must somehow pertain to drinking or the “crazy” night she and her friends had the night before doing the exact same thing they did last weekend.[12] Every weekend, the Sorostitute goes big, as if it’s the first and last time a weekend will ever happen.

Her headline is always an inspirational cliché, such as, “Dance like no one’s watching,” even though when the Sorostitute is dancing, someone better be watching. And planning to buy her a shot.

Academic Sorostitute

The Sorostitute only goes to class to cultivate an artificial air of careless perfection. For some reason, Sorostitutes think it’s ok to wear sweatpants in public as long as something is written across the ass.[13] By coming to class in sweatpants, she sends a signal to Dudes that she is low-maintenance and, therefore, a desirable mate. She believes this is true. Sorostitutes love rolling down the waist of their sweatpants to make them low-rise because Sorostitutes love showing off their thongs and / or hip tattoos.[14]

When the Sorostitute is required to write, she uses something adorable, like a pen with a fob at the end that writes in pink or purple ink, which makes it more fun to dot an ‘I’ with a star, a heart, or a little circle.

The Sorostitute demands a clear motive for every assignment given in class and does not hesitate to ask why she has to do anything; she needs to know why she’s made to do homework when she could be doing something interesting, like going through the Starbucks drive through or watching Oprah.[15]

Sorostitute Holidays

Sorostitutes love any holiday that involves getting presents. Sorostitutes probably also give gifts for holidays, but there’s no record of a Sorostitute giving any gifts ever, except to her Lil Sis during pledge time.

Even though there are no presents, the Sorostitute’s favorite holiday is Halloween because she gets to wear sexy costumes. A Sorostitute will wear pretty much any Halloween costume, as long as it can be prefaced with the word ‘sexy.’[16] This is great for the Sorostitute because since their costumes consist of little fabric, there’s no waistband to roll down.[17]

Sorostitutes believe Cinco de Mayo, Mardi Gras, and Spring Break are holidays created just for them, and they are prone to commemorate such occasions with piercings, tattoos, or an extra dash of promiscuity. Of course, rampant drug use will also occur, but only drugs that, to the Sorostitute, convey a respectable social status. Sorostitutes prefer cocaine, but will periodically indulge in Adderol. Sorostitutes only use stimulants because pot makes them hungry and acid makes them confused, which they hate.

Every moment of Sorostitutes’ lives is documented in photos, but don’t mistake this for a love of photography because Sorostitutes hate almost everything. Sorostitutes love taking pictures of themselves in the same pose[18] with four or five of their friends.

Sorostitute Spirituality

Sorostitutes believe in God, but, like, you know. They’re more “spiritual” than religious.

Aberration: The Sorostitarian

The Sorostitarian is a Sorostitute that happens to be a vegetarian, and really likes to talk about it. All the time.

The Sorostitarian is similar to the Alpha Dude that pops his collar in that she is the wild-and-crazy, on-the-fringe member of the group. In each group, there’s only room for one. She’s often overheard talking about how hard it is to be a vegetarian, thereby calling attention to her suffering, because the Sorostitute loves to suffer.

Aberration: The Sorostiposeur

The Sorostiposeur is any young woman that doesn’t quite fit the Sorostitute mold, but tries to anyway. Her misfit status could manifest itself in her willingness to eat seven days a week, having career ambitions, listening to classic rock, driving a Ford, being single, or having monochromatic hair. Sorostitutes generally embrace the Sorostiposeur because they don’t like it when people are different.

Aberration: The Sorostilez

Very few Sorostitutes are actually lesbians, but every Sorostitute is kind of gay for free drinks. Sorostitutes like to make out with each other if the occasion warrants it, like if they get attention, alcohol, or fame.[19]

Aberration: The Fat One

The Fat One[20] is different from the Sorostiposeur in that she embodies all the features of the classic Sorostitute, except that she’s overweight. The Fat One knows her role within the Sorostitute hierarchy, and must compensate for her weight by being uber-slutty. Being the Fat One hinders her ability to get Dudes, so the other Sorostitutes like her because she’s not competition.[21]

When a Sorostitute Loves a Dude

Sorostitutes show affection by having really high expectations. Some might call them unmeetable standards, really. Sorostitutes don’t even really know what their standards are, but they know they’re seeking perfection. In relationships, Sorostitutes whine incessantly and never express gratitude or satisfaction.

Sorostitutes should aspire to be in a relationship at all times, as they are very dependent on their Dudes. Sorostitutes and Dudes go on dates to Chili’s, Applebee’s, P.F. Chang’s or the Olive Garden, because Sorostitutes love upscale casual. Sorostitutes use their Dudes to vent frustrations about waiting, having to pay for things, having tan lines, and having to share the earth with other women.

The Sorostitute should try to lose her virginity by the age of fourteen, thereby beginning a lengthy cycle of paranoia and suspicion. Sorostitutes are very worried about losing their Dudes to other women, so they like to go through Dudes’ cell phones and delete the phone numbers of every other woman the Dude knows.

Sorostitutes interrogate their Dudes relentlessly. They love to quiz their Dudes on the details of the day, including everyone he saw or talked to, and how he thinks he could possibly justify wasting that time on other people instead of slavishly devoting all of his attention to her.[22]

Sorostitute Entertainment

Sorostitutes like reality TV in general, but they especially enjoy shows such as Laguna Beach, The Bachelor, The Real World, and American Idol because they feature other Sorostitutes. They also like The O.C. and Pretty Woman. Highbrow Sorostitutes like Clueless, but this requires knowledge of the past, as Clueless was made so long ago, it might as well be Casablanca in the Sorostitute’s mind.

In terms of recent cinematic experiences, Sorostitutes have certainly seen The Notebook, but they don’t know who Nicholas Sparks is.[23] Because the Sorostitute is unwilling to assign value, she will literally watch anything. And Dudes love that.

The Sorostitute is always searching for entertainment, though she does not recognize boredom as the root of her discontent.[24]



The Sorostitute Dictionary

Anyway: a filler word that signals the end of a sentence
Bitch: 1. a Sorostitute’s enemy 2. a Sorostitute’s best friend
Butt-hurt: a state of being that describes disappointment, sadness, or anger
Dunzo: derivative of the word ‘done’
syn. finished, over
So: a filler word that signals the end of a sentence
Sorostiscot: 1. a female the Sorostitute looks up to 2. a famous Sorostitute
What: a two-syllable word that denotes curiosity or lack of understanding[25]
syn. why
Whatever: 1. a filler word that signals the end of a sentence 2. an expression of flippancy
or disdain
Why: a two-syllable word that denotes curiosity or lack of understanding
syn. what
You know: a filler phrase that signals the end of a sentence



Sorostiscots:

Paris Hilton
Lindsey Lohan
Nicole Richie
Anna Nicole Smith (but only when she’s thin)
All of the Pussycat Dolls
Pamela Anderson
Jennifer Lopez
Mischa Barton
Tara Reid
Jessica Simpson
Every supermodel ever[26]
Kristin Cavallari
Christina Aguilera
Angelina Jolie (but only because she stole Brad Pitt from Jennifer Aniston)



How to Talk to a Sorostitute[27]:

1. Remember that everything is a competition; try not to say anything that could possibly be interpreted as aggressive.
2. Make sure to preface compliments with the phrase “Oh my God” to convey your sincerity.
3. Speak slowly and simply to avoid potential confusion.
4. Give her plenty of time to talk about herself. Don’t share anything about yourself unless she asks.
5. Give her plenty of opportunity to complain about things that don’t matter.
6. Try to look bored to establish camaraderie.
7. Remember that you are subordinate to her.



Things That Sorostitutes Don’t Know Exist

Aging
Debt relief
Contemporary poetry
Ethiopia
Farming
Serenity
Free time
Recycling
Injustice
Manual labor
Rotary phones
Martin Scorsese
Paisley
Grunge, punk, folk, and bluegrass
Tapes
The New Yorker
Native American Reservations
Graduation[28]
Melanoma
Renewable energy


A Sorostitute’s List

Likes:
UV rays
Manipulating men
Abundance
Pain and suffering
Skin belts
Cocaine
Trailing off
Inspiring fear
Cruelty
Cosmopolitan
Adornment
Pillow shams
Neiman Marcus
Bleached hair and teeth
Clutches
Spending others’ money


Dislikes:
Sunscreen
Other women
Poverty
Being confused
Turtlenecks
Carbohydrates
Complete sentences
Forgiveness
One-piece bathing suits
Newspapers
Simplicity
The History channel
Kmart
Freckles and enlarged pores
Messenger Bags
Studying


[1] The Sorostitute does not understand geography. For example, Canada is so far away it’s not even worth thinking about, mainly because there aren’t beaches there for her to go to during Spring Break.
[2] The onset of Sorostitution usually corresponds with the beginning of adolescence.
[3] An accidental positive side effect is that the Sorostitute fails to see color. Unable to discriminate on the basis of race, the Sorostitute sees only socioeconomic status and, therefore, hates poor people indiscriminately.
[4] Provocation could include talking to the Sorostitute’s boyfriend, making her wait in line, asking her to move her car, or suggesting that she get a job.
[5] They only get reflective when something major happens, such as a haircut, a break-up, a weight loss or gain, or a major purchase. When in this state, they like to withdraw into solitude and write terrible poetry in Comic Sans font, which they post on Myspace with blinking heart-shaped cursors.
[6] It isn’t recommended that you call a Sorostitute a loose canon though, as she will probably think you’re really calling her fat.
[7] The Sorostitue has never seen taken a Latin class, seen Dead Poet’s Society or Rent, because Latin is a dead language, and those movies are old. Anything made before three years ago is old.
[8] The Sorostitute is unaware that there was an original Beetle because it’s old.
[9] The Sorostitute, like the Dude, doesn’t know how to dress for winter. For example, when a Sorostitute buys a winter coat, she sometimes opts for a tight, midriff parka.
[10] Authors’ note: Sorostitutes usually spell Sara without the H. –Sarah
[11] As a general rule, Sorostitutes don’t eat. They’re known to consume 1800-calorie coffee drinks from Starbucks as a substitute for a meal. There is a very small subcategory of Sorostitute that likes to talk about how she can eat as much as she wants without gaining weight, but they’re extremely rare.
[12] They never get tired of going out, yet it bores them.
[13] Sorostitutes often fail to discern between loungewear and actual clothing. Anything from Victoria’s Secret is considered acceptable attire to wear in public.
[14] Sorostitutes have tattoos of hearts, cherries, or Playboy bunny heads because hip tattoos have to be sexy. Tattoos of butterflies are relegated to the lower back area.
[15] It is not recommended that the professor try to explain pedagogical motives because this will just piss her off. One should just say, “Because it’s worth fifty points.” The Sorostitute understands numbers because they remind her of money.
[16] Sorostitutes can be very creative with Halloween costumes, and have been known to sexify the most unsexy things. Examples include sexy Care Bears, sexy mice, sexy pirates, and sexy referees.
[17] Author’s note: One time I went to a Halloween party at Ohio University and met a Sorostitute dressed as a brick. Her Dude boyfriend was dressed as a bricklayer. Ha. Get it? – Meg
[18] Either on a beach or in a bar, and, of course, holding alcoholic beverages.
[19] The pinnacle of fame, to the undergraduate Sorostitute, is appearing in a Girls Gone Wild video, as this documents the unmatchable wildness of her spring break. The Sorostitute lives to inspire envy.
[20] Classification of the Fat One is entirely subjective. Depending on the group of Sorostitutes, The Fat One could be a Sorostitute who’s slightly larger than the rest of her friends, but not fat, or, she really could be fat.
[21] The Fat One may or may not even be slutty, it’s just that the other Sorostitutes are amazed that she manages to have sex at all because she’s so fat.
[22] Sorostitutes get violent when threatened, and have been known to break windows, key cars, or hospitalize female opponents. Passive-aggressive Sorostitutes prefer to verbally annihilate other women with gossip and unsubstantiated rumors of poverty, fake purses, or virginity.
[23] Except for, maybe, the Sorostiposeur.
[24] Sorostitution ends when the Sorostitute is finally entertained. Through amusement, she gains purpose in life, usually either via marriage or childbirth.
[25] Though not a two-syllable word, the Sorostitute usually drags it out to two syllables.
[26] Or so they believe. Sorostitutes are unaware that there were models around before Cindy Crawford.
[27] Try not to worry too much about communicating with Sorostitutes. There’s a very slim possibility that any of them will even notice you’re in the same room with them.
[28] Sorostitutes understand graduation as a general concept, but they plan to drop out of college upon marriage, which happens before graduation. If a Sorostitute is not engaged before her senior year, she will change her major to buy more time.

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