A Timeline Of Ending A Dry Spell, As Told By Nicki Minaj

It’s Saturday night, and you’re getting ready to go out.


While getting ready, it dawns on you that you can’t remember the last time you hooked up with a guy.

Or the last time you saw a guy naked.

You begin to question if you even remember how to have sex.

You tell yourself to stop being so dramatic. How could you ever forget that?

So you decide to take matters into your own hands. You pick out an outfit that oozes sex appeal.

Your friends are taken aback by your outfit.

But you don’t care.

So, as usual, you and your friends pregame the pregame.

Then you head out, squad deep, to the frat party.

You’re keeping your eyes open for a cute, new guy to meet.

You don’t see anyone who piques your interest, even slightly, so you quit your search for now.

The frat runs out of alcohol, and it’s time for you to decide where you want to go now.

Your friends aren’t ready to leave the frat, but you insist it’s time to go to the bars.

When you finally get there, you walk in like you own the place.

And just like that, you spot the guy from your freshman math class who you’ve always had a crush on.

On the outside, you look this this:

But on the inside, you’re all like:

So you casually go say hello, but you make sure to turn on the charm.

After a few minutes of catching up, he asks if you want to get a drink.

When he isn’t looking, you give the girls a little lift.

Your friends keep interrupting your conversation, and you start to think they can’t take a fucking hint.

But a few shots later, it’s last call, and he asks if you want to get out of there.

On your way home, you start to second-guess yourself, but then you remember what a catch you are.

When you get home, you two don’t waste any time.

He wants to leave the lights on, and, surprisingly enough, you’re okay with that.

There’s a lot of this:

Some of this:

A little bit of this:

Which leads to this:

Which escalates to this:

And he’s all like:

And you’re all like:

When he finishes, he is literally speechless.

And you’re just like, “I know.”

He tries to snuggle and all you want to do is go to sleep, so you do the classic cold shoulder roll.

It’s 11 a.m. and he’s still sleeping. You have no idea what the protocol for this situation is, and your stomach won’t stop growling.

Finally, you’re just like, “WAKE UP!”

He’s got a pretty intense case of morning wood, and he’s flaunting it like he wants you to see.

Finally, you are done holding your tongue and tell him it’s time to go.

When he leaves, your friends are waiting to hear all the dirty details of your night. You just give them the nod.

When they ask if you’re going to hear from him, you remind them that you’re not about to settle for just anyone or lose sleep over it.

Because you’re Nicki Minaj.

AKA the motherfuckin’ queen.

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Just a smart blonde keeping her standards as high as her red bottomed heels. Go big or go home.

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