You see, back before Lil Momma (remember that’s me) was spending more time at a computer than human interaction she was a legal keg party rock star shaking her sassy tail feather to Sean Paul songs in the dirty south of Key West, Florida. You heard me, shaking a tail feather. But now looking back, I wish someone would have drop some guidelines down on me so I (A) wouldn’t have ended up in a key west slammer for an hour because I lost my license just as Cubans were trying to swim to the border, (B) Didn’t make out with a guy who told me he was a “preacher’s son” coming to find out later that trip that that was his “best line yet” and (C) didn’t substitute normal, human meals for eating pressed Cuban sandwiches at a Pharmacy in a 7-11 every morning, noon and night because we weren’t smart enough to pack any food items other than ice cubes. Now, I’m not your big sis, and in fact I still to this day make fun, stupid mistakes in the world of social status but take this wise advice with you on your journey into five days of freedom:
- A onesie bathing suit is sexier than a piece of dental floss up your bum
- Drunk people sweat. You do not want to be that weird person sweating now do you? Keep your cool with low (and legal) alcohol intake
- Snacks also include fruit, veggies and water. Not. Just. Pina. Colada. Mix. You. Young. DUMB. JC.
- You can all fit in one hotel room even if they say you can’t. Rules are made to be broken.
- When you do get kicked out of that hotel room remember not to steal anything and break the law or else your mean Dad will have to pick you up and tell you he’s disappointed in you and that you have a hicky on your neck even though you keep telling him it was a “bite from God”
- And, finally “Preachers Son.” This is just a line. Preacher’s son’s only exist in movies. southern movies, really. Do Not Fall For This. (But if you do, make-out on the beach and get caught by security. That’s a hip memory, but the sand in va-ja-ja is not)
Alright, hope this helps. Now, go out there, be you and be safe. I’ll be here trying to find that “preacher’s son” on Facebook.
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Image via Alice Dison