Our hips won’t lie to you

First post, new blog. Three kids in a dorm room with big ideas, and they’re just reckless enough to try something they hope’ll be as big as they dream. That was so cliché. Whatever, I’m leaving it there because I think I sound avant-garde, which is italicized because I’m a pretentious intellectual.

Whatever, guys, it’s late. It’s 1:34AM, which is technically Tuesday morning, but I consider it Monday night. I have an 8:30 class tomorrow morning. Fuck.

Jon says, “Guys, I had a revelation while I was in the bathroom. I was born to dance—not like any dance, but like, crazy dance.” Imagine that he started dancing for us, and his hips certainly don’t lie.

Micah has started to question the philosophy of Shakira. “I’ve never really understood what that means, because hips have never lied to me.”

Jon has come to the conclusions, “She is legit, she is being honest about her sexuality.”

Micah agrees, “So, she’s not a tease. She’s horny.”

Jon, “Yes. So, here’s our syllogism. 1) My hips, like Shakira’s, don’t lie. 2) I’m dancing like this. [hip swivel]“

This is a typical conversation in this dorm room. Be alarmed.

—Allie