Slutty Girl Problems

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Reasons Why You’re On The Naughty List

As a fellow slutizen and member of our naughty community of sexuality wielding warriors, you will naturally be on the naughty list. This may mean that Mr. Christmas will be checking you out off the nice list and filling your stockings with coal (so forget the super smooth hold ups and grab your brother’s football sock). I would hate for you to be wondering why, and so I have brainstormed some reasons why you may, yet again, be a name on the naughty list of people who can’t have nice things. Here you go…

Santa saw your Instagram.

It’s in his wank bank.

You know you’re hot, your ex knows you’re hot, that guy from the convenience store sees that you’re hot – everyone knows you are hot. Your Instagram followers know best though: they receive weekly/daily/hourly reminders that you are sex on legs (not bad sex obviously; the toe-curling, sweaty, wine-drunk sex that happens when you put your barely theres on). You have put some NSFW videos of you twerking in hotpants, pole dancing in your stripper heels, and that SnapChat of you looking half decent in the morning in the crisp white sheets of a hookup… Your brothers have all come to you to ask you to block all their friends that follow you. You may as well be Satan, because you are so fiery, tempting, and devilish. Figures.

Satan is surely on everyone’s naughty list really – a moral obscenity if he isn’t.

You’ve bought promiscuous gifts.

I just saw that all my favorite toy companies are having sales, and I’m ready to stock up. Or, I could buy all my friends batteries; I know their toys from last year have definitely run out.

I know you have bought that guy a candy pouch. You’ve bought the penis pasta, Santa sack, jelly boobs, and cinnamon lube. Everyone receiving presents from you knows not to expect homemade jam, a tea light holder, or an engraved photo frame; they know they’ll be getting something pretty dirty and blush-worthy. They know that they can open your present in front of their cousins, aunties, dads, and grandparents after they’ve said the Lord ’s Prayer and sang ‘O Come All Ye Faithful’ at church in the annual religious frenzy.

Wait, it is homemade… it’s a homemade One Night Stand Kit.

You’ve sexualized Santa.

So, that Sexy Santa costume will be coming out around this time, right? You sick twisted deviant. Fetishizing a children’s figure (let’s be real here, none of this playing dumb, ‘I’m 23 and believe in Father Christmas’ bullshit) is a kink. It’s also immoral…

But you, sexual deviant, are made up of right decisions made at the wrong time – and rebellious actions you sometimes regret. We’re all behind you, though. All for it! Where are all my Little Helpers, Sexy Santas, and Mrs. Claus chicks at?

You went a step further if you eroticised the nativity… Kinky Kings, Jizzy Joseph, Virgin Mary… I don’t know, this could get a bit weird. I’ll stop.

 

 

You have suggestively used a candy cane.

You managed to receive a candy cane, yet you did everything other than eat it like a decent human being. You spanked someone and/or yourself with it, you performed a sensual burlesque routine with it like a miniature cane, you sucked it suggestively, and probably by accident, your brain drifted off a little…

You’ve had more guys than pies.

Some advent calendars have each date’s cover peel off to reveal an image of the nativity. Others reveal cheap chocolate surrounded by tacky designs developed by a graphic design apprentice. Your advent calendar is electrical, and exists on your cell phone. It consists of the winter hook-ups you rekindle over the Christmas period. The guys you left a semester ago, all their numbers and text history using up the precious memory in your phone. It also holds all your hometown hook-ups, and those guys or mistakes you made when you were feeling the love after those tequila shots.

I’ve had approximately 5 pies this Christmas – so far. I have not yet exceeded my number of pies with guys, but I do know that many of you saucy minxes most definitely have – and your minxness will be paid back in full, with coal.

You got absolutely fruitcaked at your Christmas party.

I’ll be an honest individual and raise my hand/say aye to always being the drunkest person at any given event. Even work. I recently got so wasted at work one evening that I can’t remember a lot of the shift, but I do remember being escorted home by my colleagues and barely being able to say my address as I vommed into an ice bucket taken from the bar; one way to make a shift go quicker I suppose. So it’s probably a good thing I wasn’t able to go to the work Christmas party, although it is a bit of a shame because I could have just got totally bookshelved and proven that I could sometimes be a fun drunk person…

If the above story sounds like you, you have to reassure yourself that it’s your bosses fault. If they didn’t want you to do/say all those drunken things, they shouldn’t have supplied alcohol in a party atmosphere… Very irresponsible of them, really. They should have expected that you’d dance on some inanimate object, fall off, spill everyone’s drinks, get a bit too low, and get kicked out of the party venue. Or at the very least, screw the crew or some guy/girl in the store room. You definitely get a bit too into your work.

Oh well.

Remember – this is just so none of you are surprised when you don’t receive Santas gifts this year. Or, maybe you’re still wondering what happened last year. I may have shed light on one of the many reasons why you are on the naughty list this year, and hopefully always will be!

Merry Christmas, Slutizens!

OneThing // Author

Life as a British female often carries harsh burdens like maintaining proper etiquette. But that's a little tricky considering I'm not of this Earth. Usually found in the gym, either building muscle or staring at it... I'll be the one dancing with my flies undone and burping without an apology. During my time as a promiscuous alpha female I have realised that some guys only want one thing, that being a relationship. http://instagram.com/slutizen_

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