By Kirsten Scott-Wuori, Columnist
Did you forget to wear a shirt today? Did you wear too many shirts today? Were you so hungry after lunch that you found yourself eating barely-trash Timbits from the cafeteria garbage can? Did you get your period in any memorable way? We want to know about it. We know that there are times in your life when you look at yourself and you can barely believe the shameful person looking back at you—but don’t worry! There’s absolutely absolution in sharing. Get it off your chest. Send us your most cringe-worthy confessions at firstname.lastname@example.org, and spread the shame.
Last year for Super Bowl XLVIII (48, I Googled it) I decided to host a Super Bowl party for my friends. I originally came up with the idea based on a combination of Pinterest boards and a few drinks one night while watching a game. I will be the first to admit that I am more interested in the food and drinks that accompany sports, rather than the sports themselves.
My cute football-shaped invite requested peoples’ presence promptly at 12:00 p.m. (only three–five hours before the game was scheduled to start)—just enough time to sample the six different kinds of chicken wings I had made.
Around the middle of the second quarter I was starting to feel really flushed—a combo of too many people in my apartment and the frat-boy amount of beer I had consumed, perhaps? I went to the washroom to ensure my team-colour face paint had to survived the excessive sweat—only to spend the next 20 minutes puking my guts out.
Just when I thought the worst was over, an urgent knock on the door and the rest of my party frantically urging me to hurry up told me that it wasn’t. One of those six types of chicken wings had given us all food poisoning. I only have one bathroom in my apartment.
I will not be hosting again this year.
Ashley M., 22, Burnaby