Tracker Pixel for Entry
By The Betches on

Though betches have few feelings, we sometimes have regrets. These are usually reserved for one day. Sunday. In the spirit of the second worst day of the week, here a list of a betch’s typical Sunday regrets.

Walk of Shame: During those occasions when a betch blacks out and #8 sometimes fucks a bro, and it’s not in the comfort of her own bed (side note: this often happens because betches are forced to wind up at his place where the prepaid drugs are), she has to endure the walk of shame. After realizing she’s not at home, a betch will first contemplate if this is a rare occasion when last night’s outfit was casual enough to pick up some iced coffee on the way home without having some businessman think she’s a hooker and solicit her for sex. Since your apartment is about a 90 second walk from this bro’s, you decide to take the hike.

When Lionel Ritchie wrote Easy Like Sunday Morning, it’s hard to imagine that he was thinking of anything other than watching a betch take her morning walk of shame.

While making a mental list of everyone this bro knows and is likely to tell that you fucked him, you head out the door. That’s when you see the nice girl from your biology class with her backpack, clearly headed to the library. You could duck and hide behind a street sign but you’re a betch so you have no shame. You’d rather walk through your college town with enough eyeliner down your face that you look like a member of fucking KISS than let this betch-hater think you have something to hide. She is clearly a fucking loser since she’s on the way to the library, and hey, you got laid last night while she was reading Jodi Picoult! Walk tall betch… after all, your pumps make you look almost 6 feet.

Sex without a Condom: Shit, have to get Plan B.

Sex with the guy in your Monday morning class: Shit, have to ask him for money for Plan B… along with his class notes from last week.

Drunk eating: It’s funny that I can spend all week eating lettuce without dressing, but after three shots of tequila I find myself ordering 28 boneless wings with extra bleu cheese and an order of fried cheesecake.

Blackout Texts: Similar to drunk eating, blackout texts matter, even though you don’t remember sending them. But unlike drunk eating, text messages are permanently out there to be read aloud to any audience, even if you deleted them from your own phone. No amount of working out on the elliptical will eliminate them from cyber space. They definitely provide excellent Sunday morning stories, but usually at a serious cost.


Sometimes it’s just sending one really embarrassing text:

Me: I’m DTF.

Sometimes it’s texting the wrong person the wrong thing: To the guy you fucked with the small penis… Me: I couldn’t even feel John’s penis when he fucked me John: What? Me: Shit sorry, wrong text, different John

(Side note: Is that any better?)

Consistently texting the same person who’s not responding:

Me: Hey, what’s up?

Me: Come over Me: Where are you? I’m at my apartment

Me: Are you not coming?

Me: Fine, don’t come over

Me: I’m naked

Me: You’re either coming over or you’re not.

Me: Fine, I’m over it

Me: Over it dot com

Me: Seriously, where are you?

And of course, there’s always the general drunk fuck up, such as when your best betch from high school visits and vomits in your shoes, and you wake up the next morning to find them in the dishwasher.

Sunday morning regrets, although traumatizing, leave a far funnier legacy than the sting of the embarrassment. Better to have drank and fucked up than not to have drank at all!

<< #12 Tailgates

 #14 Going On Dates >>


10 Comments TALK SHIT!
  1. The Betches says:

    for the consistant bbming… you forgot about the almighty PING!!!
    any real consistant bbm’er would PING!!! in between every other post. and definately, the last bbm the person received would be PING!!!

    Posted on Reply
  2. The Betches says:

    Betches do not take Walks of Shame. It’s a Stride of Pride, Betches!

    Posted on Reply
  3. The Betches says:

    I think I could write a book on my Sunday Morning Regrets… actually this will probably how I will stop relying on daddy. Thanks for the idea betches!

    Posted on Reply
  4. The Man With Bro Name says:

    Nice try, bitch. The Stride of Pride is for men only. Women get the walk of shame.

    Posted on Reply
  5. betchierthanthou says:

    Please. The stride is for betches, the walk of shame is only after they spent the night with you. Better yet, why don’t you walk of shame after admitting that you read this entire post? sounds like the #gayfriend to me

    Posted on Reply
  6. BBM Betch says:

    Betches should also know that if you delete the contact before they read the BBM, they can’t see it…  Or if you delete him after he reads it, at least he can’t show his friends.  Then just re-add.  “BBM is so fucked these days! No idea what happened, like half my contacts disappeared.  mypin: 1234567 def time for the #Iphone switch.”

    Posted on Reply
  7. C says:

    My group has named this particular moment, the moral hangover. Use it. Love it.

    Posted on Reply
  8. Chill says:

    I am a victim of the drunk text messaging.  I’ve found that the easiest way to get out of it is to post your facebook status as “Who has my phone?!” and not answer calls for an hour so that people think you lost it, and then pretend it wasn’t you who sent the messages!  A lot of effort, but necessary if the texts are embarrassing enough…although we all know that us betches have no shame.

    Posted on Reply
  9. yuuuup says:


    Posted on Reply
  10. bro says:

    you dumb betches. your nothing but slam pieces. you regret fucking bros but youll keep on going

    Posted on Reply
Post your comment: