We GET It. You’re Upset.

Sheesh.

Okay. We get it. You’re upset. Again. Like usual. So what else is new? But, like, can’t you be upset outside of office hours? If you’re a professional like I am, you’ll know that there is a time and a place for being upset. And, honestly? You should keep your emotions and opinions to yourself until you’re off of work because no one wants to hear you bitch all the time.

Seriously. It’s getting old.

I mean, it’s sooooo unprofessional to constantly be harping on climate change, mass extinctions and species die-off, corruption, black money, shell corporations in the Seychelles, Trump Tower, Putin’s geopolitical warfare on the West, Brexit, the last election being won by 77,000 votes, people who don’t vote, apathy, ignorance, the Electoral College, AR-15′s, mass shootings, universal background checks, mental health, incarceration of drug addicts, the US allowing big game trophies allowed back in, the raping and pillaging of Africa, the Military Industrial Complex, black men being murdered without consequence by police, mass incarceration of people of color, homophobes, racists, misogynists, xenophobes, money being more important than the environment, being dismissed or diminished, new iPhones, planned obsolescence, the effects of late stage capitalism on our planet, anyone who fucking hurts an animal, elephants as trophies, dick measuring, video games normalizing gun violence, the rich, tax evasions they rich get away with, white collar crimes the rich get away with, Donald Trump, Ivanka Trump, Mike Pence, the new SCOTUS called “Brett,” the Patriarchy, mass bee colony die-off, the bleaching of the Great Barrier Reef (and the bleaching of all coral reef ecosystems for that matter), the mass of plastics floating in the oceans, single-use plastics, microplastics, microbeads, Amazon, Jeff Bezos, the Right, conservatives, anti-women people, the anti-Intellectualism movement, gamer gate, Chuck Grassley, Lindsey Graham, Mitch McConnell, the Republican women who vote against their self-interests, the scores of other women who vote against their self-interest, anti-choice people, rednecks, incels, gaslighters, Bernie Bros, people who HATE Hillary/Soros, etc., flat-earthers, climate “deniers,” the Republicans, the systemic dismantling of your rights as a woman, purposefully using incendiary language to get a rise from people, or whatever else you’re upset about today.

It’s always something with you.

God, you’re just always so… emotional.

You really should calm down and stop being so upset. It really bothers me.

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A Pimp’s To-Do List

– Prune roses

– Run

– Write out childhood trauma for therapy next week

– Stretch hamstrings

– Fuck bitches

– Polish Yeezys

– Punch new hoes

– Replace diamond knob on pimp cane

– Get pimp lean back

– Check in with bottom bitch

– Polish pimp cup

– Keep it strong

– Lisp practice

– Re-seal deck before winter rains start up

Fashion Tip Friday

And now kids, it’s time for #FashionTipsFriday!

Today’s lesson: FINDING YOUR ANGLE.

Here we illustrate the importance of angles!

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1. Hide your gobbles, chins, snaggleteeth, and sundry other horrifying imperfections by finding which angle accomplishes all of the aforementioned. We’ll go over lighting some other time, but for now, really *think* about your shitstack luck with the features god gave you and try not to bemoan them too much. We don’t want to get stuck bitching without fixing it! No one wants a whiny bitch, Becky. Get your shit together. 

2. Here comes the tricky part, everyone. But try and stick with me. To find your “angle,” simply stare at yourself in a mirror for hours on-end! Trust me on this: you want to basically take this up as your new hobby. Forego gym classes. drinks with Claudia. This is IMPORTANT. If you want to start dating winners and find yourself a husband/wifey/etc, one simply must get their angle down. Stat. Becky, I swear to Christ, no one wants to hear how “fugly” you are anymore. God

3. No mirror? No problem! Any reflective surface works too! Shop windows, train windows, your phone camera, other people’s car mirrors, stainless steel elevator siding, Vegas… It’s totally 100% normal and not at all distracting to conversations you may or may not be a part of, Becky, and there’s a time and a place to talk about how lonely you are eating your night cheese and your sweatsuit pajamas but we keep telling you how to fucking fix it and so help  me if you ignore this shit and go back to that Debbie Downer shtick again I’m going to not call you for, like, a month.  

4. After you found the best way to deceive your audience and begin to lure in potential boyfriends, PRACTICE, PRACTICE, PRACTICE. Get SO GOOD at knowing how your right cheekbone looks sharp enough to gouge out Becky’s fugly eyeball and wipes that shitty look on her face when she drags her new boyfriend over to your house to gloat. 

Helpful tricks with getting in the mood include Paul Simon and/or Blues Traveler, wine, and belligerence. With my help, you can turn that sad frown upside-down into the social media icon of your dreams!

Guys it is TOTALLY FINE my dad is engaged to be married:

After texting me a photo of the massive, Art Deco style ring my dad proposed to
his girlfriend with, I decided that it is totally 100% OK my dad gets a chance
at happiness and will be married again (again) before me being married ever.
Here’s why:

I have so much more time than him!
Technically, so it’s totally OK that I haven’t found anyone to marry. Oh. Look.
More gray hairs. It’s fine. I’m in no way slowly losing sex appeal and attraction
because our society favors wisdom and grace rather than temporary, nigh-intangible,
ethereal beauty we are supposed to chase at all costs and is spoon-fed to us as
the only thing that matters.


Being single is hard!

I know! I get it! Look, here’s the thing: I am genuinely happy for him. I think it’s really,
really wonderful that he’s found purpose and meaning in his life after his kids
have grown up and flown the coop. Being by yourself for a long long time with only a cat to talk to/project emotions onto is really
lonely and difficult and can sometimes feel bleak and sad and who is going to help
get through your wine stash but then again this is why you drink. It’s 100% totally
fine.


I’m a black sheep anyway!

I’ve always been a bit of a rebel: as a kid I always knew I didn’t want my own
kids, and I always knew I’d never get married. So really, if there’s a lottery
of allowed marriages, I’m super glad my dad pulled a winning ticket! AGAIN. Besides,
my emotionally stunted inability to express or receive affection continues to
be a source of frustration for those close to me and that is precisely why I am
a hermit person who’d rather coddle her broken cat than attempt to heal and get
the human connection she so desperately craves. 1000% TOTALLY FINE.

As you can see, I’m totally, super-duper, way-OK fine with my pops walking down
the aisle again and am in no way suppressing feelings of inadequacy, loneliness,
dread, fear, and sadness. And who knows: maybe dying alone may be fun as fuck! 

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Ugh, Things We Can’t Say To Women Anymore

Dudes. Bros. My mans. It’s real rough for us these days. I mean, we can’t even compliment a lovely lady without offending anyone. Ugh. Like, how are we even supposed to talk to females without running the risk of getting fired or sued for harassment? It isn’t fair! So, I wanted to help my fellow man-dude-bros out there with this struggle and have made a list of things you can’t say/do to women anymore. 

Compliments
Bro, just forget about bringing up how attractive you find a woman. I mean, we all know she’s asking for attention dressing the way she does or when she wears makeup. But when we pick up those signals and point out how hot her boobs look or whatever, it’s like we’re the bad guys. And god forbid there’s other females around: they’ll just get pissed off that you singled out the hot one and then bitch about why they didn’t get a compliment. Uh, that’s not how compliments work. 

Dates
Pop quiz, hot shot: what do you do when a hot chick you want to bone is hanging around? I don’t know anymore, because all I do know is that you can’t ask her out. Forget it. In-person is just way too hard these days: if, for some reason, she says “no” and you know she means “yes” (because she’s obviously flirting with you) so you keep asking her and she gets pissed off, then it’s Lawsuit Land and bro: you do not get laid there. So just, like, go on Tinder or whatever because at least there you’ll just get blocked and not get reported to HR. Ugggggggh. 

The “C” Word
Whatever you do, at any and all costs, do not use the “C” word. No matter how bat-shit she may be acting, and in spite of the back-and-forth, the waffling, the indecision, the emotions, don’t ever say “crazy” to describe

this new breed of female. That’ll make it worse, and then you’ll have a bevvy of crazy, pissed off women to deal with. We all think it, bro. You’re not crazy. They are. That’s just facts. 

Pet Names
What do “sweetheart,” “babe,” “honey,” “sweet-cheeks,” and “sexy mama” all have in common? Scout, they’re all things not to say to women anymore, bro. Ugh, so like, what, dudes? What are we supposed to say now? I can’t think of any other way to address females in literally every scenario across a spectrum of interactions. Chief-dog-bro, this is hard.

 

So, my dudes: as you can see, everything we thought we knew is totally dead. Our whole reality is, like, way not true anymore and it’s super hard for us nowadays because we just can’t do what we want to without consequence anymore. And like, growing as a human and not being men is just not an option, clearly. Hopefully this list will be your pinch hitter when you see disaster coming in human form (aka, women, amirite?) 

Things Dudes Should Totally Keep Doing

Hey fellas, it’s been a hot minute since the whole #MeToo thing started so
I felt it was time we circle back around, have a pow-wow, and give you some
pointers on what you’re doing super
well. It’s only fair in this climate what with being afraid to be alone with us
these days. So here are some ideas for things you guys should totally keep doing.

Catcalling/Honking
What girl doesn’t love being scared shitless by a bleating honk? And we totally
feel so flattered by your catcalling all the time regardless of what we’re
wearing. It obviously works, because even though it seems like we get upset and roll our eyes, we are totally just playing
hard to get. So clearly, when faced with stonewalling, you should keep doing it
with increasing intensity. We find ambiguity works really well in scoring with
men.

Vulturing
Circling us in any wheeled vehicle makes us feel super weak and powerless. Obviously,
we love that feeling, because that
means you can then swoop in and save us (and we all just want dudes to rescue
us all the time, so we can quit work to sit at home eating bon-bons and taking Insta
selfies.) Sure, you’re saving us from you being a gross predator, but it’s not
like we’re smart enough to know that!

Unsolicited Opinions
We love when you tell us what we should do, and how we should dress. Look, it’s
not like we are wearing low-cut shirts because we love our décolletages or
think ladies have cool fashion sense. Everything we do from the moment we wake up
to the moment we hit the sheets is for your attention. Sure, you may not know
the difference between a smokey eye and a perfectly winged liner, but that doesn’t
matter. It’s for you anyway! Nothing feels better than seeking validation from
a gender who can’t tell when we cut our goddammed hair.

Gaslighting
Mmmm… it feels just so good when you
tell us how wrong we are for feeling sad or hurt, or any other range of
emotions felt by human beings. Nothing gets us going more than being dismissed
constantly. I mean, we have periods, after all. And those yucky things get our
hormones all wacko, so it’s probably not too far a stretch to think that our
sad feelings are irrationally connected to our estrogen levels. Tip: we fucking
love hearing “I’m sorry if…” Not only do you look super manly
by passing the blame off on us for reacting emotionally, but you also never
really apologize so that means you’re always right. Fucking hot.  

Knowing how to be a decent human being isn’t always easy in
this quasi-pre-post- #MeToo movement. We hope this helps you navigate the tricky
waters without fear of being wrongly accused of being a total cock.

Reasons I Desperately Want You to Come Over for Dinner

Look. I know getting to know me in “that” way has been a
horrifying barrage of hormones and emotional yo-yoing and I feel somewhat bad (and
super paranoid you’re going to lose
interest and bail, if I’m going to be honest, hahahah). I want a chance to make
up for it, so I would like to invite you over for an elaborate, over the top
4-course dinner party, with a wine pairing. Here are the reasons you should
come:  



Self-awareness is sooooooooo hot.

The term “woke” is so gauche these days. What really hits people in the
metaphysical dick is grounded pragmatism. Being self-aware-of-self-sabotaging-from-fear
is, like, half the battle. I think
that deserves some credit, considering. Basically: I’m sorry for the dumpster
fire, let me make you food to distract me from dealing with my emotions.

Compensation is key.
And I want to show off in an attempt
to bolster my self-esteem. As described above, recently I’ve taken a tire-iron
to my ego, and that hurts a lot. Showing off reinforces deep-seeded fears of
being unlikable, unattractive, and unwanted. So what better way to artificially
inflate my market value than by advertising! Like wine! Which we will be
drinking in copious amounts at dinner until we can’t feel feelings.

Emotional eating is cool again.
I’m pretending to be
confused about my feelings, and I want to make you confused too because misery
loves company! Also, I’m self-aware that I’m self-sabotaging because of an
irrational fear of being abandoned, which I am actively exacerbating by being
aloof and confused! It’s a miasma, so why not come over and eat your feelings
with me?

I’m irreparably broken and don’t know what to do with my
hands.
Or my emotions. Or my crippling self-doubt. Or my insatiable ego. Or my
pressing need to be validated by my looks. Or my abandonment issues. Or my
perfectionism. Or my compulsory, type-A desire to control everything just so. Or my pseudo-faux-geek persona
I’ve been attempting to shed for years. Or my emotional eating/drinking/drug
habit…

If any and/or all of these reasons sound just crazy enough
to make you consider your life choices leading up to this moment, but not crazy
enough to make you head for the hills immediately, you should totally come over
and over-indulge in food augmented by butter and wine.

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