I Know You Fuckers Don’t Read the Article So Imma Rank All My BU Hookups

By Sage Clark | Photo by Tejas Rama

Oh hello… I see you’ve decided to actually open the article.

Must mean you're either some bum who’s a part of the Pinky Toe/Bunion OR you’re a nosy bitch who wants to hear about my sex life.

Well listen here, PERVERT! I’m not gonna talk about my hookups here at BU, I just used that as a ploy to get your attention.

Don’t feel so smart now, do you? You probably thought you’d hear about some twink and his Grindr hookups huh? WRONG. We’re gonna talk about whatever I want. Just because you’re a SHEEP and I get alerted if you close this tab without reading the entire thing. And I can (and will) hunt you down.

Today’s topic: why can I not eat Hot Cheetos anymore? I remember way back in 7th grade I was able to down an entire bag of those while watching a James Charles makeup video, but now a bitch can’t eat those without having the same intestinal problems like a gluten FREAK would after downing a Warren Sunday morning bagel. Does this mean I’m getting old? Am I not in my prime anymore? Should I just be taken out back like a fucking dog to be shot and killed? Is the next step going to be admittance to a geriatric care facility? No, I cannot become a victim to time. I will rise up. Even if that means I’ll burn through my intestinal lining from the sweet, sweet taste of red dye number 40. I will rise above and fight the shackles of ageism and fight the man (Chester the Cheetah).

Speaking of Chester the Cheetah… his nonchalant personality is something I’m currently looking for in a man.

I feel like Azealia Banks right now going off on her twitter (and yes I’m still gonna say twitter idgaf), and I think that it’s time to stop things right here.

Stay tuned for next time, when I go off about my hatred for bisexual men. (I’m not biphobic, I literally own a carabiner).