EN 303 Lit Mag

It’s not Me,

(contents page) Life lessons: how to right your wrongs

Issue 2: Maybe it was me… just this one time.

How to Not Get a Second Date

Sarah Safuto

Nobody Likes You When You’re 23

Karl Karlson

What Happens When You Fuck a Fuckboy

Total Sorority Move Writer

A Foray into the Domestic Arts

Litsa Dremousis

How “Adult Dating” is Different than “College Dating”

Champagne Showers (TSM)

Why you should swipe left on tinder all together Just the Tip(s) | Dating with Bumble

Kurt Von Klostt-Dohna

Tinder Profiles and Pick Up Lines Gone Wrong

A Collection

Missed connections and Missed opportunities Missed Connections Wall Postings

Various Authors from Craigslist Various Authors from Total Frat Move

It’s you 1

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How to not get a second date Sarah safuto Is there anything more nerve-wracking than a looming first date with someone new? It is an event that is both thrilling and terrifying. The struggle to make a good first impression on a potential suitor never fails to flood the mind with a variety of questions. Some of them are practical: it’s 2015, should we split the check? Some are delicate: should I invite them inside? Some are inane: should I tell them about my fear of elevators? And the list goes on. If you want to ensure that there’s going to be a second date, it can feel like every little thing you bring up could send the other person running for the hills. I mean, we want them to learn about us as people, yes, but we don’t want to shower them with all the bleak stuff about our lives just yet, you know? Luckily, if you’ve already hit it off and are cruising through conversation sans difficulties, you’re probably going to be fine. But just as a friendly reminder – there are a couple of things that you should 100% never, ever do on a first date unless you’re trying desperately to get out of a second one.

Talking about your ex Don’t. Do. This. This is not the time to rant about how your ex-girlfriend “just didn’t get” you. It shows that you haven’t moved on yet, and is super off-putting. Force yourself to shut up and talk about how much you love The Wire or whatever instead.

Talking exclusively about yourself

Admit it: If you didn't already Facebook-stalk the man you've made Fridaynight plans with, you most definitely will after the date. The updates that your new man posts, the photos that he takes and the status updates that he "likes" have become just as important as the words that come out of his mouth on the date. At dinner you may even sporadically pull up an app on your iPhone to illustrate the story you're telling or provide a visual of your best friend who is just too fabulous for words to describe. On their face, social media may seem like just another tool to get to know a person, but in reality, applications like Facebook and Instagram portray a distorted, disjointed and altogether imaginary version of the people we are.

Do people know that they’re doing this? Because it’s legitimately awful and eye-roll worthy. It doesn’t matter if you’re the most interesting person on the planet, if you don’t occasionally shut the fuck up and engage with the person sitting across from you, you’re never going to get a second date. And you probably don’t deserve one.

Being rude to the waiter/bartender/anyone Stop. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. Seriously. Being a dick to someone just trying to do their job is uncalled for and a massive red flag for deeper issues. Until you acquire some basic manners, please do everyone else a favor and remove yourself from the dating pool.

Using your phone constantly Why do people think this is okay? Unless you’re texting emojis to Dominos to get you and your date a large pizza or showing them a picture of your cat, put away the goddamn iPhone. Checking your friend’s drunken snapchats can wait.

Note by Tyler Curry Art by Joakim Ceder 3

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Making ignorant statements about sensitive/important topics

Nobody Likes you when you’re 23 Karl Karlson

From vaguely sexist comments to Donald Trump-level declarations about race and gender, there is nothing worse on a first date than the moment where it dawns on you that the person sipping on an overpriced drink in front of you is kind of awful. On the plus side, now that they’ve shown their true colors, you can feel good about never going on a second date with them and forever ignoring their texts. In short, to get a second date, you’re gonna want to aim to not be a terrible person on the first one.

Read here my confessions, ye youthful sinners, and be warned. Take note of the works of Karl of Carolina and prepare yourselves for a day when your actions shall be no longer construed as boyish pranks, but as crimes against goodness and society itself. Yea, though I have oft listened to the choruses of Blink 182, never did I think they would soon find themselves etched in the stones of truth. Read these, oh rowdy young gentlemen, and prepare your minds for a fall from glory.

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arlier this month I turned twenty-three. We all know that your twenties can be a confusing time. You’re caught between it being okay to ask your folks for some change and being asked to conduct yourself like an adult. It kind of comes with the territory that, as bad as we want to be grown and responsible, deep down we’re still the debaucherous little fucks we were at nineteen.

It’s not even halfway to the end of the month and I’ve already been shaken to my core at least thirty times. That’s nearly 10 core shakes a day.

Scientifically speaking, it blows big donkey dick.

Twenty-one is a blast. You’re picking up cases and hitting the bars as you relish in the freedom of legality. Your “possession of alcohol by a minor” turns into “public intoxication” and your bank account and morals slowly begin to fade away. I pulled the ol’ boot and rally enough times on my twenty-first that I’m still waiting to hear back from “Ripley’s Believe It or Not.” It’s just part of the experience.

The week leading up to it was hectic. A whole lot of typical end of the year college shit and my recent car-peeing incident had led me to think those darkest of thoughts.

“What if I can’t hang anymore? What if my best drinking is behind me? Am I ever going to graduate and get a job where I dread waking up in the morning? What if Spieth collapses on the back nine?” I decided to kick that lingering sense of self-doubt right in the ding-dong the only way I know how, by getting obliterated and letting autopilot take care of business.

I cracked my first beer at noon (I can pretend to have values, after all) and watched some Master’s coverage. The first couple hours were pretty chill, typical behavior for a guy without class and a whole lot of beer.

When I was asked if I’d like to hit an apartment party, it was on.

Cut to the next morning. I awoke with a hangover the likes of which I haven’t seen since the Vacuum Cleaner Debacle, covered in scrapes and bruises. My PDM quickly filled me in that these were the result of a nasty fall, and that I had taken a dart to the hand while trying to prove that soft tips can’t break skin. Update: they can Twenty-two is a little tamer. Instead of taking the “let’s drink until we can’t feel feelings” and they fucking will. I went home and passed out until route, I watched baseball, had a nice steak, and about five in the afternoon, reassured that my drunken pride had once again gotten the best of me. I awoke to a washed it down with a couple whiskey sours. It was pleasantly humble, and the kind of night that plethora of missed calls and texts, many of which were along the lines of “you’re a dick” and “are you alive?” makes you think your life is coming together.

Twenty-two is a nice transition between being a When you get drunk and call a pussy a pussy at twentyone, nobody bats an eye. When you do the same two total animal and acting like you have your shit years later, you “can’t behave like that.” together. Which brings us to my twenty-third.

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Professionalism? From a guy who has pissed himself twice in the last year? Well, apparently that’s life now.

I talked to my dad the day after trying to make sense of the situation. As an outspoken individual himself, I was sure he’d have some words of wisdom to convince me that people who get hurt by words are a special kind of stupid, and he kind of did. As a guy who was over in a desert with a whole lot of pissed off people at my age, he knows a hell of a lot more about that than I do. I finally decided to ask him if this was going to be a thing now, people letting actions they once found endearing become issues. The old man laughed and said words that still haunt me.

“Dude, this is life now. Try to have some fun with it, because from now on you’re fucking screwed.

Hope that helps. That guy sounds like a pussy though.”

Thanks, pops. So for all you little shits that are carrying on, I hope you enjoy the time you have left. Live in the moment, because your future holds a whole lot of angry people and a world where you long for puking up tequila as you try to sneak in a nap between now and graduation. You have been warned.

“I hope you enjoy the time you have left. Live in the moment, because your future holds a lot of angry people...

Bows and toes on bourbon street (and also maybe a fuckboy) 7

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What happens when you fuck a “fuckboy” Total sorority move writer **Editor’s Note: In case you’re lucky enough to not know what a “fuck boy” is, I’ve provided the definition as told by “Urban Dictionary”… you’re welcome, now read about this girl’s encounter with one and learn from her mistakes. Don’t fuck a fuck boy...ever. ** Fuckboy (adj.) - A manipulating dick who does whatever it takes to benefit him, regardless of who he screws over. They will screw over anyone and everyone as long they get what they want.

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here he is. He’s gorgeous — the epitome of “tall, dark, and handsome.” He hits on you and you fall for it. He makes you believe he’s a great guy, not to mention he’s the best sex you’ve ever had. You never get to the point of being more than friends with benefits but he still makes you feel special — like you’re the only girl he’s banging even though you know it’s not true. You see him go home with other girls, multiple girls, in fact, sometimes even your friends, but you tell yourself, “it’s okay, we’re just having fun,” even though deep down you want to bitch slap the girl and give him a swift kick in the balls.

On multiple occasions my friends have told me that he and I would be perfect together, showing just how much this particular fuckboy was approved of.

On the surface I kept telling myself I didn’t care and didn’t have feelings, but who am I kidding?

When you’re banging someone with that much charm and charisma it’s impossible to not catch #thefeels.

The worst part is there is a minuscule part of you that thinks maybe, just maybe, “I am the exception.”

We’ve all seen those movies: two people start out as f*ck buddies and end up in this ground-shaking, lifechanging, whirlwind romance but let’s be honest, this This is my story on why you should NEVER fall never happens. To say the least, I was NOT the excepfor it. More importantly, why you should NEVER have tion. sex with a guy that you know is taking home other girls. Granted, I’m a bit cynical at this point in my life, Back to the story. After a normal day at my part-time but this is a true story of why you should never fuck job of changing dirty diapers and screaming at little children, I look at my phone and see a text from the the fuckboy. fuckboy. Considering our interactions occur Thursday through Saturday at 2 a.m., and under the influence I’ve known this particular fuckboy since my freshman year, which is when we first consummated of excessive amounts of alcohol, I was extremely the relationship. I’m now a senior and have been spo- thrown off. A little hesitant, I open the text and, at radically hooking up with this guy for about a year. In first, I can’t believe what I’m reading.

The asshole couldn’t even fully type out the word “chlamydia,” leaving me to just assume this is what his ex has. Praising Jesus that this STD is treatable, I thank him for telling me, and that was it. No response, no “I’m sorry I fucked my ex a week before you and then gave you an STD.” No concern for my feelings whatsoever. But then again, what do you expect from a fuckboy?

The day of my appointment finally arrives. Thankfully, I have some bomb-ass best friends and one of them agrees to accompany me. By the good grace of God the university-hired gyno is super chill and achieves the impossible by actually making me feel at ease while a metal rod is shoved up my vag. It also didn’t hurt that I came up with an elaborate tale of my “boyfriend” cheating on me to get sympathy. As the doctor tells me it looks like I probably have the “chlam” I’m thinking, “why me?” But with the help of my sorority sisters AKA my best friends, who I sometimes think I really don’t deserve, I slowly but surely realized that it isn’t my fault whatsoever. As always, it’s the fuckboy’s.

While this story may seem negative, I, at least, had a treatable STD, he, at least, had the decency to tell me, and I was able to finally cut the dirtbag off for good this time.

I hope this will convince you to never fall for the fuckboy. You’re not the exception. Always use protection.

And always remember: chlamydia is more dependable than the guy who gives it to you..

between now and then, he’s had a girlfriend but we were always friendly and I always still wished something more could happen. Then, junior year, I got my chance.

Not only does said fuckboy admit to have been bumping uglies with his ex-girlfriend, but it turns out this girl has an STD. I immediately run into one of my roommates’ room and tell her the horrific news. UnWhat started out as a rebound from my latest sure as to where to go from this point, and after not receiving a reply, I ask what this girl’s dirty vag is inheartbreak from a different fuckboy turned into a yearlong occasional hookup with the fuckboy at the fected with. center of this story. But he’s not the usual breed. He’s a nice guy. He plays the part of the fun-loving, noHis one-word response: “chlam.” strings-attached, so-nice-you-can’t-hate-him frat boy to a T. To make matters worse, everyone loves him.

Literally everyone.

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A foray into the domestic arts Litsa dremousis

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any years ago, I baked chocolate chip cookies for a guy I’d recently started sleeping with. For me, this was a much bigger deal than having fucked him in the first place. “You must really like him,” my friend said. “Either that, or the sex was phenomenal.”

She was right on both counts. He was electrifyingly intelligent, funny as hell, genuinely sweet, all muscle, and prodigiously talented. The sex positively crackled, as did our conversations. I found myself aroused at random and inappropriate places (Kinko’s, the pharmacy) and felt grateful that I couldn’t sport a telltale hard-on. So, I baked. As I don’t keep a well-stocked cupboard, I drove to the store at midnight, when my creative bouts usually seize. I giddily plucked just the right chocolate chips and organic flour from the shelves. Me, the writer girl, in my lookat- me red leather boots, reading labels on bottles of gourmet vanilla. The novelty of it all. Surely, he would be moved by the depth of my affection.

Which, as it turns out, was precisely the case. He was touched and appreciated my effort and consumed the entire batch in one sitting. But he didn’t want a relationship, and while he said this could change, I doubted it would.

My heart more bruised than broken, I couldn’t help but think that this was a lousy reward for my once-an- election-cycle culinary endeavor. Damn it, I baked. I shelled out forty bucks for ingredients even though I was in between permanent day jobs. I went to my crappy temp job the next day on two hours of sleep and with a splitting headache. All so I could be told that he thought I was an amazing, beautiful, intelligent woman whom he was really attracted to, but that it “could be another six months to a year”; until he figured out what he wanted from a relationship.

Over a decade later, I still haven’t baked for anyone else. I don’t mind swallowing, but the Great Cookie Offering left a bad taste in my mouth.

Back home, I put on Sarah Vaughn and Elvis Costello and had at it. I found an apron on the top shelf of my closet. I excavated the electric mixer my mother gave me years ago, when she still hoped I’d become someone who gave dinner parties. I meticulously cracked eggs and added baking powder with long-ignored measuring spoons. God help me, I sifted.

If he doesn’t want me now, he never will, I thought.

Two hours later, buzzing from pilfered dough, exhaustion, and ardor or something like it, I took the final cookie sheet out of the oven. My kitchen and I were both a mess, but I was happy. “The Great Cookie Offering,” I called it. If he doesn’t want me now, he never will.

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How “adult dating” is different than “college dating” “champagne showers”

Fragments

By Madison armbruster

Love is holding a revolver Heavy in your hand Trigger finger anticipating An annihilation so grand.

The best kind of love Is the love you cannot withstand.

sort of unimaginable hell, like mini

I was getting ready for a date the other night and to be completely honest, I was freaking the fuck out.

This wasn’t just any date. Oh no, this was an adult date. Maybe right now you’re thinking, “But wait, what’s an adult date? I go on dates with guys from school all the time.” Well that’s fan-fucking-tastic for you, and I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but there are about 18,488,320 differences between college dating and adult dating, the most important being that adult dating is soooooo much worse.

golf, and you may or may not know that beforehand. “

Let me break it down for you. College dating is easy, breezy. Maybe you meet a guy in class, he asks for your number, you text, he invites you to a pregame, you continue to text, he takes you to dinner (read: Chipotle), you go to the bars together a few times, you have sex, you continue to get drunk and have sex, and possibly at some point, you end up with a boyfriend. Boom, simple. Sure, the act of getting a guy to commit can be difficult, but the actual dating? That’s easy.

In college, it’s simple because before you even go out with the guy, you already know half his life story and the name of his second cousin twice removed. Sit in the middle during any chapter meeting, close your eyes, and toss five pennies in the air, and I can guarantee that you’ll hit at least one girl that knows the guy you’re going to date, or knows his friend, his ex, his brother, etc… As a female in the dating world, information is our most powerful weapon. You have to be prepared.

This is singlehandedly the biggest difference between dating in college and dating as an adult.

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“ First of all, your date could be any

Going on my date last week, I knew where the guy worked and what his first name was. That’s literally it.

Hell, I didn’t even figure out his exact age until halfway through drinks. Even with my world-class stalking abilities, I was unable to find any of this guy’s social media pages. I was at a loss and going in blind.

Not only is the lack of information a stressinducing difference between college and adult dating, but the venue changes as well. Maybe you are one of the lucky few who has been taken out on real, first dates (dinners, drinks, some sort of activity), but by and large, a first ‘date’ in college is going to be a pregame, a formal, going to the bar together, or grabbing food someplace on campus. It’s going to be low-key and something you’re prepared for. Not only that, but there is almost certainly going to be copious amounts of alcohol there with the key intent on getting fucked up.

Contrast that with the adult dating world and you have a whole slew of other worries. First of all, your date could be any sort of unimaginable hell, like mini golf, and you may or may not know that beforehand. God forbid this guy tries to surprise you and end up wearing completely inappropriate footwear for the planned activity. There are just way too many variables to factor in.

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Just the tip(s) | dating with bumble

More importantly, and more scary is the topic of alcohol and exactly how much you should drink. If the guy knows what he’s doing, casual drinks and apps are going to be the first date move. This is about as least stressful as you can get, except there is still a whole hell of a lot of stress associated with this date.

I like to drink. A Lot. But I’m also a lady, in the most loosely defined way possible, meaning I am not going to outdrink a guy. If he has one beer, I’m having one vodka soda. If he orders a second, I’ll order a second.

But I will never order another before he does. I personally find this difficult, because borderline alcoholic, and because when I drink, I drink to get drunk.

Having anything less than three drinks really just seems like a waste of time and calories to me, but on a date, you have to let the guy set the pace.

Kurt von klostt-dohna Thank God! Bumble is here to save lonely guys from online rejection. No more wasting time thinking of the best pickup line just like guys have been doing in bars/parties/the grocery store since puberty. The girls have to talk to you first! Oh how the dating tables have turned. In order to help lonely guys everywhere, here are some areas to focus on to maximize your Bumble experience.

The Profile Picture Bumble is 95% pictures and 5% everything else. You NEED a good profile picture, and I’m not talking about a picture with you and your bros bro-ing out at a BroBQ. The speed of the app caters to headshot style pictures. She isn’t going to spend time looking at your bio like Tinder. A simple picture of your face will most likely be your only chance…so hope you’re good looking! Just kidding…kind of. Case and point, my roommate (good looking dude) has a headshot of him and his friend, Kelly (the most attractive man I have ever laid eyes on), as his profile picture. He gets probably 30 matches a day. Now no offence to Harry here, but I’m betting that none of these girls took the time to figure out which of the guys in the picture was him. But they always message him. Always. So props!

On the opposite end of the spectrum, if the guy is pounding them down, should you keep pace and get drunk? Especially if this guy is an older professional, you probably want to keep some semblance of dignity, meaning you can’t get shitfaced.

But you also can’t be a prude about drinking. Factor in that you may have to drive later that night, drinking to the perfect level to get tipsy/drunk but not shitty is a delicate balancing act, one that I have unfortunately not been able to perfect yet.

The Initial “Hey”

College is the best four years of your life for so many reasons. You live like an adult without any of the responsibilities, but mostly, everything is just so damn easy. These last couple years, I (stupidly) thought I was a pro at dating and had that shit on lock. And then I entered the adult dating world and got a dose of reality. I wish I could be more helpful to those of you about to embark on this hellish, fun, crazy, stressful journey into adult dating, but right now, the best advice I have is trial and error, and if that doesn’t work, wine is always an acceptable option.

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HAH! Jokes on you, entire male population. As much as Bumble planned on turning the online dating game on its head, most girls are still uncomfortable/apathetic about crafting perfect pick up lines to woo us stallions. 90% of the time, the most you are going to get is a “Hey” (or if you are really lucky “Heyyyy”). Accept it. Own it. Or don’t? The girl of your dreams would probably make a clever remark about one of your adorable pictures right? I don’t know man, the jury’s still out for that one. Just realize you are essentially at the same place as Tinder or Hinge in terms of wooing your match. App based dating is still a new concept and the rules are still being written. One thing is for sure, however, people already know what they don’t like when it comes to dating.

The Response This is what it all comes down to. She gave you a “hey” with a few extra “y”s at the end, so you already know she is down for Taco Tuesday. There is a lot of pressure in responses on online dating, but with Bumble remember one thing: She hit you up first, man. She totally digs you! Well maybe she thought you were actually the other guy in your profile picture, but still. Even though you have to come up with the conversation topic or a funny line, she at least took the time to acknowledge you right? And honestly, that feels pretty good. Maybe Bumble actually has figured it all out…

Editor’s Note: Basically leave Tinder forever; you’re not going to find your soul mate there. You won’t even find a decent booty call (probably). Bumble is the new dating application, so to really bring the point home, here are a few examples of what NOT to do on Tinder if you’re still gung-ho on it, along with a few reasons as to why you should just delete the app all together...

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Missed connections from craigslist Since first day I seen you - m4w It amazing how the time flies by. I remember the first day we met. We had amazing time, so as time went by, you grew stronger and my heart fell for you. Only thing I know is that you are not mine. Your growing and wish you all the luck, miss you and I really want you to be in my life. Not others, may sound selfish. It’s the honest truth. Be patience is not my strong point. Your smile is like a crest of the night bright moon. Your beauty is so glowing. You are the sun even when it's dark. Stay shinning and know I’m thinking of you.

College guy - m4m (Franklin kroger)

You were wearing basketball shorts and a t-shirt from a fraternity event, and it looked like you must have been freeballin. Your shorts didn’t leave much to the imagination and you saw me looking at your package as we walked toward each other in a couple of different aisles. Then I got a view from the side when you were at the u-scan, and it looked like you were semi-erect. If you’d like to have somebody close by to take care of that, hit me up.

Control me - w4m (usa)

I can’t get you off my mind no matter how hard I try. This love conquers all is bs this, shit sucks! I’m desperately trying to get over you and not look back. Each time I attempt to pull the plug a greater force reels me back in, why? What is it about you that I can’t stay away? Look at us, baby, up all night, tearing the love apart Aren’t we the same two people who lived through the years In the dark? Oh, no, every time I try to walk away Something makes me turn around and stay And I can’t tell you why, no, baby, I can’t tell you why I can’t tell you why, oh, no, no, baby When we’re crazy, it just ain’t right. ‘Cause baby I get lonely too, you don’t have to worry Baby, hold on tight, you’ve got to know I’ll always love you Nothin’s wrong as far as I can see, you make it harder than it has to be And I can’t tell you why, no, I can’t tell you why I can’t tell you why, every time I try to walk away Something makes me turn around and stay It’s your love and it makes me feel real good

I like you... but I’m scared - w4m

I love spending time with you. You get me in a way that others don’t. I want to be closer to you- kiss you, touch you, cook for you, etc... things a girlfriend might do. But I can’t. My situation won’t allow it. *I* won’t allow it. And I’m afraid of falling in love with you. The potential is there. That’s one reason why I backed away for awhile. I don’t know if or when I will do it again. I just feel it building, wishing you felt the same, and at the same time afraid that you do. I suppose I will continue on the path I am for now. I do value our friendship and what we have. I don't want to do anything to jeopardize that.

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Total frat move wall postings Jared Borislow

It’s Not Me, It’s You: Round 2 This isn’t a Love Story, so Baby Don’t Say Yes Bo Burnham once sang, “love is taking that dive and getting really comfortable and peeing in the pool”, but what happens when your significant other realizes you peed in that pool of love and they’re not really into it?

Love is fucked up. It’s easy to get swept into the moment, especially with social media constantly throwing everyone’s “perfect” relationships in your face. The problem with those relationships though is that they’re not real – they’re just a distortion of the truth. Instead of trying to run away from all of our hilarious, screwed up resemblances of love, let’s embrace the tragedy and (try to) laugh at ourselves (and others) who are also trying to deflect the damage that love has already done to us. Let’s laugh away the pain, together. LOL.

WHO WE’RE OBSESSED WITH RN: We want to hear all of your horrific love, hook up, break up, or any other story that ends in any semblance of a Taylor Swift song. This edition of the magazine will have a focal point of the blame being pushed onto the writer of the story rather than the partner, so if you done goofed too, this issue is for you! We accept anything that has to do with love, whether in social media, real life, or just in your own fantasy, so if you think you fit our “type”, then we want to hear from you.

WHEN WE LIKE TO GO ON DATES: Our magazine goes out twice a year (prude), but we accept submissions year-round. We look forward to hearing all of your tragic love stories!

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