Reality is not Reality by Carrie Winters

I have lived with boys my entire life. I have woken up to SportsCenter, come home and discreetly turned down the volume of whatever game was going on, and tried to zone out the zombie apocalypse on Sunday nights. But now that I have a female roommate, a whole new devil moved into our home; The Bachelor. My roommate, like many women, would float home on Monday nights to the anticipation and seduction of, dare I say it, Juan Pablo. Despite being dead set against shows exactly like this one, I found myself casually tuning in periodically until Juan’s exotic Venezuelan accent and rock hard chest sucked me in entirely.

Spring Breakers Review by Carrie Winters

First off, movie reviews are not really my thing, probably because movies are not really my thing. I’m the kind of girl who if a guy approached me at a bar and asked if I wanted to casually go back to his place and watch a movie, I’d respond with a, “no thanks, I’m really just looking for sex”. Just kidding, but seriously I feel like I’m one of the only people who do not enjoy movies. Other people float out of the theatre with a glow around their heart to remain there until the next time they get to, once again escape reality into a world where love conquers all, the hero always defeats the villain, and the Cubs win the pennant (It’s never going to happen). I, on the other hand, leave the theatre feeling like shit about myself. People are doing amazing things all around the globe and all I did this week was color-code my closet and watch an entire season of Teen Mom.

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