fuck your scene friends. the best friends you’ll ever have straddle the line between ‘totally cool’ and ‘total fucking dork’ and don’t apologize for it.

what are you going to remember more? the night you went to the trendy club and paid $8 for a beer? or the night you dressed up like the Venture Brothers and did goofy rad shit the whole night?

if you’d like to advertise on Boner Party, let me know. currently accepting applications.

i get hate mail some times that says stuff like “youre afraid of real women”, and sometimes just the word “FAGIT”. but lets not concentrate on the latter. it was the summer of 2002 and EVERYONE i mean EVERYONE was sucking dicks left and RIGHT back then. all the cool kids were doing it. it was on the cover of The Face and everything. but i digress.

the truth is: real women are very scary, especially naked ones. and i’ll tell you why. there’s something about a naked woman infront of you that’s a lot like a recoiled spring, or a bungee cord strapped tight across a mattress on top of an SUV. you’re thinking “can i touch it?” “will it break if i touch it?” or ”will it hit me in the eye even if i’m just standing here?”.

the lesson is this: you have to approach a naked woman the same way you would a good book or bad movie - with caution for its power yet respect for its foibles. you just never know how the supposedly nice girl you brought back to your apartment is going to be. are you going to be delving into some Narnia pussy that’ll leave you warm and learned, or did you happen to bring back the Hurt Locker snatch that’ll EXPLODE at the first mention of monogamy? eggs and bacon? SLAP IN FACE.

you just don’t know. which is why dating is difficult. which is why we are all single. everyone in a relationship that you see are character actors. NOBODY in the history of the world has ever had a baby - they were all there before you got here.

(photo v. frangry)

everyone gets one ‘Tapeheads’ moment where you’ll wake up and she’ll be in your shirt making ‘Whimsical Eggs & Bacon’ with a tall glass of Wife and you’ll get to look over the top of your sunglasses and go “WHAAAAAAAAT?”.

they dont really teach Cool Guy 101 at schools, and they should.

(v.heartbeatcity)

hey guys, i’m interviewing St Vincent for BUST magazine on Monday, anything you want to ask her?

its shit like this that turns me into an archetypal whistling construction worker guy, or the anthropomorphic wolf with the heart beating out of his shirt.

ahwooga, indeed.

“i have travelled 500 miles to give you my seed”.

WHAAATS the deal with chicks making out? Can we just switch it over for a minute? Why is totally cool for dudes to get drunk on whatever cheap ass gin they found in the bottom of their kitchen sink, eat burgers and bitch about girls and its totally cliche for girls to get messed on vodka (cause its low in fat) and shove ice cream down their throats (cause it makes them feel better, and by god! they deserve a little fun once in a while!) and bitch about dudes?

If i had a dollar for everytime a dude i was dating asked if i ever had a ‘thing’ with a girl… well…lets just say I wouldn’t be working over time for the ice cream. BUT if i’m like “hey man, have you ever … you know…. had a thing with  a guy?”, home boy would burst out of my overly priced apartment so fast his v-neck wouldn’t even had hair on it. HAIR ON IT.

So ladies, is THAT insulting? but guys asking about girl on girl is kind of hot? What’s the fucking deal?

Well heres the thing, dudes, its totally ok to be like, “I think if Johnny Depp and the guy from How I Met Your Mother (NPH) ever had kids, that would be SO EFFIN HOT, cause in the long run, us girls consider that a ‘boner party’ or ‘wide on party’. Don’t want to be sexist on the internet. Heaven forbid.

Can i have my book deal now?

(guest Boner from Mari DeMonte. she teaches a Blog Joke writing course over at the Learning Annex in Greenpoint, Brooklyn)

thephenthouse:

No but seriously…check out that beach!!!

well would you look at that.

brokedownpalace:

Nerd glasses.

i swear to god, if she came out as Scientologist, i’d be first in line to get my thetans lifted or waxed or whatever they do to them.

there would have to be a point in your night out with Lady Gaga where you’d go “no, Lady” and she’d go “are you in, or are you out?” and then you’d call her bluff and go “i’m out” and she’d go “well, alright then” and then go fake-blow a midget on a gondola pulled by Keith Haring drawings.

and it’s ok, man. you’ll have those nights. you’ll be out with the cool girl, the badass girl, and she’ll say “ok, we’re going to do cocaine with the asian guy from the Smashing Pumpkins and then stay up all night listening to him play Ace Of Base records, do you want to come?” and you’ll be all “y’know, i’m going to go home”.

there’ll come a point in your life when you realize you don’t want the party girl anymore and you’ll want to Cameron Crowe it up and just chill out. and in hers, too, because God knows you can’t keep up the Manic Pixie Dream Girl shit passed 25. unless she’s made of steel or something. it’s all a game of waiting and numbers, really.

coketalk:

The teenage lesbian sex that Kristen Stewart and Dakota Fanning would have together is the kind of thing that would make poets weep.

Go ahead. Imagine them kissing. It is the reason the Ancient Greeks had four distinct words for love.

GET OUT OF MY HEAD.

“look, ee is not cawled ‘Zee Edge’.”
“i swear to God, his name that he actually goes by is ‘The Edge’”
“oh! so does ee sign hees cheques like that?”
“actually yes”
“nehxt you weel be telleeng me zat thee other guyee goes by Boh-no”
“he DOES go by Bono” 
“that is so fahkeeng styoopeed. ah i am falleeng out uhf my bra!”
“HOLD ON. MY EYES ARE CAMERAS.”

she’s like your friends older sister who you make out with for a whole summer before she goes off to college and then she gets in with the art crowd and everything sucks after that because you still watch cartoons.

heartbeatcity:

this is my salinger outfit.

i sat here for ten minutes trying to think of something clever to say, perhaps rhyming “phony” with “bonie”, but alas, nothing.

swing and a miss, Hepburn.