Snooks is that you?!?!

Any relation to my dearly beloved Snooki Snickers?

It’s Wednesday night at around 9:31 PM. What better time to go on a shopping excursion when you’re in college? Yes, that’s a rhetorical question! 

So take your pick. Peruse the extensive list of appealing options. What are you in the mood for? Target, the Dollar Store, Wal-Mart (for those who firmly believe Tar-Jay is living the lap of luxury a BIT too much! We don’t want to get too far ahead of ourselves in the self-indulgent department!), and we cannot forget that quaint little organic mom and pop grocerette wedged somewhere in between that beatnik trinket shop and that Joanne’s Fabrics dump. 

When you want to hit up one of these businesses that are heavily populated by frat brothers ardently seeking Hennessey and Crown Royale (you've got to drink like P. Diddy and T-Pain if you want to bag a broad!) a lightbulb goes off in your head. You don't own a car!

The number one crisis on college students' list of woes. Just because you gave the old Volvo a microscopic, barely detectable dent when you were 15 and hurtling around alleyways with your permit, blasting NSYNC and the Spice Girls.

So...you feel trapped, like a caged-in carnivore, you feel that hovering bell jar above your head catapult downward onto your cranium. You scour your surroundings with fervent and fanatical eyes for susceptible prey. Or in other words, some lowly, lost soul who is stupid enough to either lend you their nearly totaled little Honda with the “Don’t fuck with Texas” bumper sticker with a doughy yellow cartoon hand flipping you the bird or to cart you around to wherever your heart desires as you rest in the backseat like a diva with colossal black Jackie O shades on and a bubushka around your head, as you stiffly clutch your Chanel. 

Well which one of your friends has a car? Well, Esmerelda just texted you back. She's currently getting her Cheeto tan on at the Roasted Chicken Tanning Teepee. You can cross her off your list. And besides, she drives like a legally blind lemur on opium. Sure, of course she’s dying to go join her in her ambition to get skin cancer, but you told her you'll take a rain check. You can’t deal with any more of her constant, shrill speaker phone calls which result in her face adding a nice crimson shade to her already tangerine looking appearance. One more jaunt with the spray tan and her freckles are going to burn off.

Last time you tried that tanning salon bullshit, you came back looking as if the Red Bull’s head got chopped off by a guillotine and replaced itself with your head. 

TO BE CONTINUED. I'm about to pass out now on my plastic chunk of a bed. I'm like an eskimo, it's like I'm sleeping in an igloo on chunks of ice and snow. SO ABNORMAL.

above is my lover/wife. It's pathetic how no one has heard of Cheryl Cole in the U.S. She is literally ridiculous...I have never seen anyone who looks like this. Sickeningly gorgeous. And her accent gets me every time...especially when she says things like "Me adrenaline is pumping." I LITERALLY DIE EVERY TIME. I've been watching far too many X Factor videos lately.

Okay well enough about me, I'll finish my little bit  another time!