Alright queer community of Brown University, it’s time for you to square the fuck up. Yeah, you heard right, this is a callout post. The gayest thing of my whole goddamn STUPID FUCKING LIFE happened to me and I can’t even talk about it thanks to YOU. Yes, YOU. Continue Reading…
I have three main fears in this life:
1) I will tell someone I love them and then they’ll laugh in my face.
2) The fact that my skin is ALWAYS growing and that if my skin cells didn’t periodically fall off, they would just build up until they surrounded and subsequently suffocated me.
3) Tentacle porn.
This list breaks down pretty easily. The first reflects a deeper fear of rejection and of my inherent worthlessness. (Haha just kidding…. I know how to have fun. I’ve seen Glee.) The second reflects… something. I’ll get back to you on this one, but in general it’s just a reflection of the specific way my OCD chose to manifest itself (SO. MUCH. FUN.)
The third is where it gets interesting. Basically, it’s a reflection of my fear of the unknown.
I can’t recall the first moment I came across the term “tentacle porn”, but I’m assuming it was somewhere on Twitter or (ugh I can’t believe I’m publicly admitting to using this website) tumblr. But even though I definitely have heard the term, I still am entirely unsure as to its definition/significance/meaning/whatever/you get my point and its function within the already existing realm of porn. It’s this exact uncertainty– nay, this MYSTERY– that speaks to me– calls to me, even. But, unfortunately, my deep desire to know what tentacle porn looks like is at constant odds with my deep fear of ever having to actually watch tentacle porn.
In an attempt to become a Real Official Serious Adult, I’ve begun to confront my fears. So far I’ve:
- Listened to three Black Eyed Peas songs that I closely associated with my cringey middle school days.
- Watched 1 romantic movie without pausing it even once due to severe second hand embarrassment. Don’t worry, I definitely still felt it.
- Watched the Kylie Jenner pregnancy video in its entirety despite the pressing fact that pregnancy TERRIFIES me and that, also, I find Kylie Jenner’s entire persona to be slightly disturbing.
- Ate one vegetable a day. (Only for a week. But still. An accomplishment.)
You get the gist. I’m facing my fears and the next one up on the list… watching tentacle porn.
As I write these words in this exact moment, I am still a tentacle porn virgin. My eyes remain unsullied. And my mind, untarnished. However, in a few short moments I will be a tentacle porn virgin no more. For I, a sole crusader against the foggy unknown, shall soon bear witness to the intricate mysteries of pornography of the tentacle variety. Thus, with one click of my mouse, in the middle of Barus and Holley no less, I take one small step for womxn. One giant leap for womxnkind.
*Insert the 4 minutes it took me to watch the tentacle porn*
Okay…. So…… That just happened.
I realized that no words could accurately describe my experience so I made a video. But, before I present you with that, I will leave you with these words. Sometimes you don’t know something. And, sometimes, that’s okay. Sometimes, it was unknown because it should’ve stayed unknown. Forever. And I mean FOREVER.
I hope you enjoy:
Image via Sarah Clapp.
It’s too early to think about Valentine’s Day, you say? I beg to differ. It’s never too early to think about the overly hyped, cacao-production inducing, rom-com sale boosting holiday that is Valentine’s Day, because if nobody was thinking about it in advance, there’d be no reason for the killer chocolate sales 02/15. For some, Valentine’s Day is just like any other day. For others, it’s a dreaded day. And for a select few, it’s their favorite day of all (I can’t say I’ve ever actually met anyone from this faction). Despite the large part of society which carries on as usual on Valentine’s Day, there’s an overpowering manufactured hype (thx capitalism!!) that strives endlessly to convince us all that Valentine’s Day is most certainly not just any other day. As a result of this comes the odd behavior and stereotypical attitudes associated with ‘Love Day.’
For single folks, Valentine’s Day can take one of two routes: a celebration of your freedom (much as every day should be) or an odd disparagement of said freedom (internal dialogue a la “you need to be tied down!! Evolution says we must reproduce—where is your mate???”). Many of the proud solo peeps have redubbed 02/14 as National Single Awareness Day.
In the words of one single Brunonian, “Honestly being single is so ingrained in who I am I don’t remember which day Valentine’s is anymore.” Hey, maybe they’ve got the right attitude! Why should 02/14 hold such significance to us?
Plus, when people are either just in the throes of a romantic relationship or any of the awkward stages of a pseudo-relationship, Valentine’s Day can bring about a fair deal of weirdness. Do they buy their not-not significant other a gift? I mean, they aren’t dating but do their weekly hookup and polite pillow talk rendezvous mean absolutely nothing? At the very least they should get each other some of these:
If you’re in a relationship, the day becomes a great source of leverage for that special gift you’ve always wanted (like these). Or, maybe the day just becomes a point of contention because you can’t find the perfect place to have a Valentine’s meal, or can’t seem to buy the perfect gift. Or maybe the crushing weight of societal expectations is coming down a little too strongly.
Regardless of one’s relationship status, why should Valentine’s Day matter? There’s nothing all too great about Valentine’s Day beyond elementary school. It’s as though everyone forgot that love is for you and your friends, too! Nobody really wants a fancy dinner at a restaurant packed with other couples pretending they’re having fun when instead they could be sitting with their friends making some of these.
2018, the year of the return to the true meaning of Valentine’s Day: chocolate and friends.
You’ve heard of The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, now get ready to learn about the franchise’s predecessor: The Sisterhood of the Traveling Eye. Continue Reading…
To Whom It May Concern at Casting for TLC’s “Four Weddings:”
Hello. My name is Sarah Clapp and I would like to be on “Four Weddings” because I love eating chicken saltimbocca that has been sitting in a buffet tub for 4 hours and criticizing tulle. Moreover, I am the perfect bride for “Four Weddings” because I will be going to four weddings in the next four months and they are all mine. Continue Reading…
I only know three things about latest pop sensation Dua Lipa. One is that she’s freaking gorgeous in a way that makes me question whether I want to be her or on her. Two is that she should definitely try to get a lip gloss deal with Sephora or something with a name like that. And three, she has got to be a total badass who gives really solid advice. I mean, you’ve heard “New Rules.” You’ve been strong enough to not contact your ex, right? All because of Mother Dua. Continue Reading…
Hmm. Hmmmm. Coding. Money. Uh huh. Your mom knows a guy. They went to Princeton together. I bet they fucked at some point. Continue Reading…
Image via Sarah Clapp.
Walk into any college classroom or study space and you will find students basking in the glow of their Macbooks like fat cats lying in the sun (Meow!)
Furthermore, you will most likely be barraged with visual punches to the eyeballs. The fists? Eye-catching and meticulously arranged stickers plastered on aforementioned gadgets. Continue Reading…
I don’t self-identify as a fan of Grey’s Anatomy, but, hey, I’m only human. We all have our faults. But lately, I have found myself living for the tension between two hot, fictional doctors (Christina Yang and Owen Hunt) because their lives are way steamier than the tea I make in my dorm room (update: while searching for an image of the two characters for this article, I spoiled their relationship for myself… I’m fine… they get married?!… I’m definitely not including a picture now). My life now consists of me convincing myself that if my episode of Grey’s runs a minute over the hour-mark on my clock, then I should just watch another one. Because hey, that next hour is basically wasted. Continue Reading…