Pleasure Parties v. "Get to Know Your Lady Parts" Parties

As of late, Nicole and I have been hearing tales of girls in our dorm (we live in an all-girls dorm, mind you, so the action is few and far between) wanting to have a "Pleasure Party". Now for those of you who don't know what a Pleasure Party is, it's basically like a Tupperwear Party (a bunch of women, in that instance, usually menopausal, who sit around and discuss which kitchen wear is the best for preserving food stuffs and then proceed to pay for the overpriced items in question), only with sex toys. Nicole and I consider ourselves to be not only pretty mature for our ages, but also rather progressive in our thoughts on such parties. Because, really, we would attend such a party only because of how funny it would be to see our friends sit around and chat about which vibrator works the best when the Mister is not around to provide some lovin'. So we thought, 'Cool. Where and when would such a party happen, since we obviously can't have 30+ girls in a small, prison cell-like room filled to the brim with sex toys?' But then things took a turn for the worse when our RA heard about it through the grapevine. Suddenly the Pleasure Party turned into a "Let's All Get Together and Learn About Our Respective Vaginas" Party. Woah, woah. HEY. Nicole and I don't roll that way, Miss RA. Our RA single-handedly managed to turn what sounded like a fun, frivoulous girl-bonding time with some laughs thrown in into this Den of Iniquity where the walls are covered with tacky wallpaper with a fleur de lis print that's peeling off in sketchtastic areas, with gauzy, sheer curtains hanging all around with all of the girls writhing on the floor masturbating to a background of Enya, Charlotte Church, and Josh Groban. SO AWKWARD. We would commend her for this stunning feat if it weren't for how grossed out we were by the idea of it, how weirded out we became by even thinking about Pleasure Parties. So, thanks RA. Thanks.

The following is the dialogue Nicole and I had on the topic when it was first brought up:

Mia: I still can't believe that our RA took the idea of a pleasure party to mean that. *shudders*

Nicole: I know. I'm not sure what her fascination is with all of our "danger zones" but I personally have no interest in sharing that particular moment with any of you. No offense.

Mia: It's cool. I just think it's awkward that she felt the need to ask all of us about it. If she was so interested in pleasure parties, she could have just googled that shit. I know that she may have no problems discussing her sex life with others, but there are just some things that I don't need to know about, and her sex life is definitely one of those things.

Nicole: *shudders* I am so creeped out right now. The more I think about this, the more disturbed I become. I'm sure that's not a rational reaction....she just makes me want to vomit. Can I say that? Do you think she looks like a chipmunk?

Mia: *laughs* No joke, I think I just threw up in my mouth a little. I think she reminds me of the squirrels we have on campus! Those are some scary little bastards. I seriously hope that if the plans for this party goes through, that she's not invited. I don't think I could handle how awkward that would be if she was all, "Oh-kay, laaadies. We're going to go around in our liiitle circle discussinggg our sexual adventures." And yes, she DOES drag out her words like that.

Nicole: You're so right!! She sounds just like that, except in a 5-year old, baby voice kind of a way. No, I'm sure she would make it so much more awkward and uncomfortable for everyone. "So, I'm sure you don't even know where your clitoris is..." And we would all gape at her forwardness. She's insane and unpredictable. Wait, we may need her there. I mean, at least we'd have something good to talk about (and I'm quite positive she'd be the first to volunteer to try out the titty tassels. Kodak Moment!)

Mia: Nicole. Stop reading my mind. For serious. Because you KNOW that, at first, everyone would feel so awkward until someone broke the ice with the pasties. She would be one who would break that metaphorical ice. I feel like I should appalud her for her special brand of crazy. Brava! *claps*

The Sarasota Connection & Intros

So Nicole and I found ourselves wondering, "Why, exactly, do we NOT have a blog?" I mean, we're both interested in pop culture (and by "interested" we mean "OH DEAR GOD. WE LOVE IT!") and politics (same reaction applies). Plus, we've talked about it before, but never really acted out on it. So yeah. We decided, "Why not? We'll find what we write funny," and thus, we give you our blog. Jointly written whenever we feel like sitting down together to discuss what happened in our lives that day.

Let's start with some basic introductions:

Hi there. *waves* I'm Mia. As of this moment, I am 19 and a freshman at USF. I'm a Pre-Mass Communications major and next year, I'll start my magazine journalism track. I'm obsessive about Harry Potter, the fashion industry, and British Alternative bands. I dress rather snazzily, if I do say so myself, and Nicole plans on hiring me as her stylist when she runs for public office. Any questions? Fabulous. Nicole's turn!

I've been told that I am a combination of Fergie and Jesus, but I'll leave that for you to decide. I prefer to think of myself as a combination of a jedi master and 1/3 of the Clinton dynasty. I'm a freshman at USF(with Mia) and am majoring in Political Science. Obsessions include: The Clintons, Harry Potter, Disney Drama, RDJ, Marie Antoinette, Dancing....all forms, and many other things that we will get into much later.

So now you may find yourself wondering, "What IS The Sarasota Connection, Mia and Nicole? Is it like Six Degrees of Separation? That crazy game with Kevin Bacon?" All of these questions shall be answered. Starting now:

The Sarasota Connection: we don't know what exactly causes it, or who it affects, but for some reason that Nicole and I have yet to discover, the boys who come out of Sarasota (specifically, the boys from Sarasota who attend USF) have some magic in them. Magic that attracts not only Nicole and myself, but our friend, First Mate*, as well. It's quite a conundrum and we're putting all of our scientological resources to work (we have a Mole amongst them. The truth will be revealed!) and, thus far, we suspect some crazy, cancer-inducing growth horomones in the milk. We just pray to god that that doesn't come back and haunt us with some busted looking men in the not-so-distant future. Our repsective fingers are crossed.

It's like my (Mia's) mom said, "That's SO incestual!" And, Mother, you would be right in this occassion, except for none of that whole "Oh-Sweet-Jesus!-I'm-attracted-to-my-sister/cousin/brother/West Virginia-style" nonsense. We swear. Or, we hope. :/ But it all started way back in first semester where I (Mia) stumbled upon Lumberjack. Only, he wasn't like that when I first saw him. I swear. He was legit hot. Like, ridonkulously hot. But anyhoodle, beyond all of that, the point is is that he's from Sarasota. How do I know this? I'm observant like that, bitches. I can read, and it was on a shirt. So there's number one.

Numero Two: another boy my friend, Curly Cue, and I stumbled upon thanks to multiple encounters at the dining halls. We shall call him With Honors. Interest fades with Curly Cue, but we knew enough about him to learn that he was also from Sarasota. How? We had lunch with him a bunch of times. Questions were asked, information was gleaned.

Number Tres: First Mate met someone recently that is friends with Lumberjack. First Mate likes Friend of Lumberjack. They went to high school together.

Number Four: Curly Cue has a current boy toy that LIVES in the same dorm as Lumberjack. B t dubs, this guy doesn't live in Sarasota. He's the odd man out. Weird.

Number Cinco: Nicole likes one of my friends, who we shall refer to as Granite. Granite comes from Sarasota, but did not go to high school with any of the aforementioned boys.

In conclusion, Nicole and I have formulated a theory that we have named The Sarasota Connection.

Theory: there is some crazy-ass food/drink/something in the city of Sarasota (or in Sarasota county, in general...) that causes the boys who come from there to give off this weird, ray-beam-esque attraction thingy that causes Nicole, myself, and our friends to go all loopy at the sheer thought of these boys. Our solution: WE'RE MOVING TO SARASOTA, YA'LL!!

Answers to our previously asked questions: Explained above, maybe, and yes; such a strange game.

And so, we give you the conclusion to our first entry. We hope you enjoyed it. There shall be plenty more to come.

(* <-- Denotes changed names.)