The one with the boys in the kitchen.

Abby is a girl. Abby lives on my hall. She's the best. Also, she is country southern out the wazoo.
Abby hates ballogy. Not biology, but ballogy. That's how southern she is.
This is a story about Abby and her lady parts.
Interested?
I figured. You dirty, dirty people.

On our hall, we like to try on each other's clothes all the time. Probably the very best part about dorm life, after the bonding and all that ish, is that your wardrobe multiplies enormously. (I look so fly everyday wearing not my clothes and accessories.)

One night, Abby was in my room trying on my clothes.

Abby is about a foot taller than me and she decided to try on a lace mini skirt that I have which is too short on me...so on her it's pretty much not even underwear. It's black lace and it's as skankalicious as all get out, but I usually choose to wear it in a classy fashion. Anyway, so Abby has on this tiny tiny tiny barely there black lace skirt and she pairs it with a lace top that I own which is supposed to be worn over something, but Abby decided to wear it with nothing under. Nothing.
Like OH HEY THERE ABBY'S BOOBS! nothing.
 And she decides this outfit is not complete without her 4-inch black patent leather stripper pumps. It's ok because we're all girls and yadda yadda, and Abby decides to strut around our floor with her best "lady of the night" strut and making passes at us because---as she said, "to prepare for my future, y'all." And it was funny and she was (scarily) good at it.

A key point of interest to note is that Abby is literally almost naked. No.  I lie.
Abby is naked. Worse than naked, she's naked with lace.
 It's fancy naked, like naked with raisins in it.
She walks past the kitchen on our floor to go show her roommate her outfit and then all of a sudden---

SLAM! She's suddenly running back, at like 80 miles per hour, full speed down the hall, covering herself (or trying to), shrieking "THERE'S BOYS IN THE KITCHEN! THERE'S BOYS IN THE KITCHEN."

I laughed for way too long. You probably aren't laughing like I did. But it was really funny.

Several boys were scarred (scarred or maybe utterly delighted?) that night. I think there's a Fallout Boy song about it. It's called "Thanks for the Mammaries."

HA.

Don't pretend like that wasn't a good joke and perhaps made this whole entry worth reading.

In other news, I fell backwards down a long flight of stairs and a boy caught me from behind, honey moon style. It was way too romantic for real life so I went for it.

A True Story: 
Uzma: Oh my gosh! Thanks! You saved me! Will you marry me?!?!
Savior: ...No. pats head, and sets Uzma down and goes his merry way.

It's ok. He was wearing a graphic tee anyway. And not the cool, ironic, hipster kind.
I don't need him.