You guys, I’m totally in love/awe/infatuation with www.trashyblog.com written by my bloggy friend, Shay. It’s my go-to blog when I need a bladder busting laugh, she never lets me down. So when I asked Shay to write a guest post on my blog and she said “Of course!”, I was beyond thrilled!
Trust me, you’re in for a treat today, a real “ho” down ( I promise, that’ll be funnier after you’ve read the post) so make sure you’re wearing your pantyliner…
When Kim asked me to guest post on her blog, I was so excited. I thought and thought and thought about what kind of post would make the perfect fit for her blog, and the answer I came up with was something skanky.
Now, although I call Kim my fellow skanksta on my blog (www.trashyblog.com –Thanks for the plug, Kim!), I’m not sure if she ever actually was, hmm…how shall I put it? A social butterfly (read: slooter) like I was back in the day. If she was, shame on her, because I was pretty nast-ay. And if she wasn’t, I know she still likes to read about those of us who were because she’s a frequent visitor to my blog—and I love her for it.
So, without further ado, here’s what I came up with for my One Classy Motha guest blog post:
At Bible Study the other night (Yes, I go to Bible Study. I’m pretty sure that even though it won’t erase the skankiness of my past—ahem, yesterday—my dirty whore soul can use all the help it can get), all of the ladies were talking about being forgiven for our sins and how God doesn’t hold anything against us if we’re truly sorry. Naturally, the heathen college years came up.
“I once cheated on a French test,” one of the ladies whispered, staring down at her tightly-clasped hands.
“I got a B once,” another piped up, only slightly louder than the first. She couldn’t meet our eyes; instead, she glanced shiftily from one side of the room to the other, racked with guilt. I wanted to tell her that maybe if she’d been smart enough to cheat like Sinner #1, she’d have gotten an A. But I held my tongue.
“I yelled at my mom on the phone once,” came from the back of the room. The miserable offender wiped a lone tear from her cheek.
My jaw dropped farther and farther to the holy floor as I envisioned myself burning in hell with every confession that came out of my fellow Bible Studiers’ mouths. And then, after this wretched confession from another one of the girls, “I ate a packet of my roommate’s Ramen noodles once” was followed by huge sobs that rocked her whole body, I couldn’t take it any longer.
“What the hell is wrong with you people?” I gasped. “I was a humongous skanky whore. I got drunk and had sex with a lot of people!”
I looked toward the back of the room, where the phone girl was still furiously wiping away tears, bottom lip quivering with disgust at herself. “You’re worried about yelling at your mom on the phone? The one time my dad called, I told him he was a selfish rat bastard for interrupting my hung over slumber before noon on a Tuesday and took the opportunity to set some phone call ground rules.” I took a breath before continuing my spontaneous confession. “I once bought a homeless man a sandwich and a beer so he would agree to sit on my best friend’s lap in the middle of a bar and lick her neck up and down while I hid in the corner and watched and laughed. I’d have taped it, too, if we’d have carried cell phones around back then.”
I paused, watching the memory play out behind my eyes. “Of course,” I felt compelled to add, lifting my shoulders in a shrug, “I realized when I went home with him that night that he wasn’t actually homeless. It was just a look he’d perfected since he preferred drinking beer every night at the bar to eating and doing his laundry…”
When I looked up again, all of them were staring at me, eyes wide, mouths agape. They stayed like this for about one minute before simultaneously looking down to open their Bibles and begin feverishly thumbing through the pages to find Scripture verses that would make me feel better.
“No,” I said. “No, really—I’m okay.” They paused from the page flipping and looked up at me again. “I just feel like we should be given a pass for the college years, you know?”
At this, everyone in the room laughed. Not because they thought I was joking, but because they get me, my peeps. They just get me.
And thank God for that, or I would have been kicked out a long time ago. In fact, I’m pretty sure they only keep me in as a sort of after-school program type deal: If I’m there Bibling it up with them, that’s one less night I’ll be out on the streets, skanking it up.
The hubs thanks them for their dedication. And I do, too, except for every third Tuesday or so, when I get to missing the skank days. But it’s okay, because I know I can relive them during confession time with my Bible Study peeps, and that’s just as good, right? J
(You know, I think Kim can make this post into a giveaway. Whoever is the first to correctly count all of the times the word “skank” or any variation of it was used wins the pair of flip-flops that were pissed on during her vacation last week…whatdya say, Kim? But wait, readers, because another one is used below, and you’ll want to include that in your Skank Tally…)
Trashy Blog was created and is written by Shay, who withholds her last name not to be all Beyonce, but instead to hold on to a little bit of anonymity. Trashy Blog is updated on Fridays, when Shay has a chance to kick back with a beer and trash her skanky little heart out. www.trashyblog.com