Wednesday, September 22, 2010

let's ruin some lives!

I want to wait for marriage to have sex, but my boyfriend doesn't. I'm not willing to give oral sex either. How can we solve this problem? I'm not going to marry him anytime soon, because we just started dating.


this is why i refuse to go to church. besides the whole "worshipping a fictional character based on a pagan sun god" thing, you also have to pretend you hate things like sucking dicks. and damn that all the way to HELL. what kind of puritan doesn't give ORAL? with this attitude, you need to have lived in during biblical times, sister. the solution to this problem is BREAK UP WITH HIM AND FIND SOMEONE IN YOUR BIBLE STUDY TO DRY HUMP. i'm sure there are dozens of closeted gay men with creepy '70s moustaches in modest eddie bauer polos and sensible shoes just dyyyying to take you to ice cream socials and hold hands with you at the zoo. doesn't that sound like good, clean fun? going to the movies to see disney matinees and eating all your meals at baker's square? oh, i know. i'm so giddy i can't contain it.

so either put a (nuva)ring on it or stop wasting this fucking dude's time.



Why is it that every single time a guy buys me a drink he expect me to go home with him, and then acts as if I have broken some sort of contract when I don't?


don't let a dude buy you a drink if you don't want to bang him. and let's not be cute here, pretending that you need to get to know a dude's personality before deciding whether or not you'd put your good panties on for him. that's bullshit. you know AT FIRST SIGHT whether or not you'd have sex with someone. personality might make an ugly dude cuter, but you bitches know before he even opens his mouth whether he's "please come over and install these track lights while i whine about my boyfriend" ugly or "if you don't say anything to vile and repugnant i might fuck you" ugly. stop playing.

let's be clear here: i fuck dudes who buy me drinks. plain and simple. you buy me something, i'll disappoint you with a lackluster bedroom performance. two minutes of "oh yeah, you're so HARD" in exchange for a watered-down vodka soda? EVEN TRADE. and i might even take off my shoes. you hoes better get with the program. no one forced you to accept that cold glass of awkward shame and humiliation. if the waitress taps you on the shoulder and points to fucking swamp thing at the other end of the bar, politely decline and continue waiting for the hot dude with the waxed eyebrows to come up off of ten dollars just for the opportunity of making your acquaintance. (it will never happen. hot dudes don't buy bitches drinks. you'll die of thirst.)

a few weeks ago maya and my sister and i were out having a few cocktails, and around midnight the waitress slides into our booth next to carmen and motions to a gnarled little troll of a dude WEARING A JACKET EMBOSSED WITH COLORED CRYSTALS and said, "that man over there would like to buy you a drink." i swung around to look at him (i think i saw some gold teeth!) and turned to the waitress and said, "DECLINED." unlike the rest of us, carmen is one of these "nice" people (where the fuck did that come from?) and she proceeded to order an EIGHT DOLLAR DRINK. i could tell from the crystals that my man hailed from THE CONTINENT, and since i'm fluent in african i understood immediately that EIGHT DOLLARS (nine with tip!) translates to FOURTH WIFE. i was busy flirting with this hot rastafari, but i kept glancing over my shoulder for homeskillet to pull his lion up alongside our table.

TWO AND A HALF HOURS LATER he comes over, nods at the empty glass, then asks carmen if he could escort her to another table to "talk." generally i'm the worst kind of cockblocker (spearblocker!), but since she'd sucked down that expensive drink i was helpless to stop him from clubbing her over the head and dragging her off to be inspected by his fellow tribesmen. turns out this peach was a 44-year-old married father of three who STILL LIVES WITH HIS WIFE. if a dude tells you all that within five minutes of sitting down with him, imagine what the fuck this asshole is HIDING. garbage-ass idiot. she still should have had sex with him, though. shit, in this economy? nine dollars should get you anal.



Whenever you see an attractive person, do you find yourself thinking about being with them instead of who you're with now or do you simply think that they are attractive? In other words, is it a bad sign if I'm daydreaming of other guys instead of my boyfriend?


attractive people are too much fucking WORK. blarf. every time I see a hot dude i think, "holy fucking shit, that fine motherfucker is probably wearing some dumb bitch OUT." you always have to worry about a handsome dude waking up and realizing he's too hot for your goddamned ass and that the credit card debt you have accrued trying to keep him interested and happy is going to catch up with you sooner rather than later. and unless you chain him up in your basement, bitches on the street are always going to be flirting with him and trying to tempt him away from you. and who needs the anxiety? fuck that noise, jack.

that's why i look for homely gentlemen with low self-esteem. why let that hot piece of bacon boss my ass around (gross) when i can put this fat dude on a leash? ugly people are more interesting anyway, as the universe makes us work harder to prove our worth. good looking people don't have to cultivate any interests beyond personal grooming and shopping with someone else's credit card, and that's BORING. i'd rather let some godzilla-looking motherfucker talk to me about the last interesting book he read than watch a pretty dude stammer his way through the latest issue of men's health.

daydreaming is normal. the luster of real humans wears off relatively quickly, and a little healthy fantasizing never hurt nobody. is there anyone who really daydreams about a person you've fucked already? what's the fucking point? pfffft. i think that shit is called "remembering."



Can I ask my ex what went wrong in our relationship?
ew. why would you even want to? because EVEN IF he'd give you an honest answer (which he won't), you can't tell me the conversation wouldn't devolve into some desperate self-defense during which you try to rewrite history. or at least HIS version of your history. you'll argue and spit and scream and cry, all to a dude who broke up with you anyway. holy shit, for WHAT? anytime someone tells me something they don't like about me (which is almost never because i am perfect), i immediately make plans to cut him or her out of my life. because, let's be honest, i'm too old to change. so are you. so is everyone. that's why cheaters always cheat and liars always lie, because NO ONE CHANGES. ever.

i refuse to change myself (in fact, i might be incapable of it) and, if i can be bothered to do ANYTHING, i might try to change your mind about whatever it is i do that you hate. but you probably won't. and i probably won't care too much. also, you're not fooling me with this "what did i do?!" bullshit. you know what you did. so move the hell on and try not to do it to the next person.



Is it pointless to date someone who you know you won't marry, but you still enjoy their company, want to get to know them more, and are attracted to them? (Let's pretend for argument's sake that it is an absolute definite that you won't ever marry this person.)


i suppose that if "marriage" is the be all, end all for you in terms of a relationship's potential, maybe it is pointless. although i guess the REAL waste of time is if he is looking for marriage, too. if he's just dicking around hvaing a good time, what the fuck does he care if you don't want to get married?! do what you want until your husband falls in your lap. which you probably won't notice because you're too busy fucking around with this lame. dummy.


I'm "dating" a guy I met on the internet, but we've never met. We talk on the phone for hours but I'm nervous that when we meet I might not live up to what he thinks of me. How can I talk to him about this?


everyone knows draper is my internet boyfriend. and everyone ALSO knows i can never really meet him in real life with all this vomiting and hand braces and hobbling around like goddamned quasimodo. it would destroy the fantasy. as it stands, he worships the ground i limp on: i have the best music and all the coolest shit, i'm smart and hilarious, i leave him the best voicemails, i'm a rockstar blogger, and overall i'm probably the coolest internet girlfriend that ever existed. why should we ruin that with a little thing like "meeting in person?" so dude can see how gross i really am and how many pills i really take and how i sleep all the time and watch too much tv and wear the same jeans too many days in a row. not to mention that he could be awful in person, too. aren't most dudes? anyone can make you laugh and shit on the internets and over the phone, who's to know if he'll be as good in the flesh? we'll just have to spare each other the potential disgust and disappointment and keep our relationship digital. and if anyone gets on our cases we'll just say this love is "furturistic." isn't that the way romance is headed anyway? in ten years you won't even need to be in the same room to have sex with a person. we're ahead of the curve.


I want to know the rules and regulations with regards to dating your ex-boyfriend's friend? Is anything kosher here or should this sort of romantic rendezvous be avoided?

i know too many jews, obviously. because i got hung up on the "kosher" part and not the "I WANT TO FUCK MY EX-BOYFRIEND'S FRIEND" part. oy vey. what kind of mishegas is this? i suppose if you love drama and hate being able to do anything in public without having to look over your shoulder every thirty seconds for the ex-boyfriend (who GUARANTEED will be lurking in every bush and always three cars behind you), then shit yeah! GO FOR IT, gurl!

but if you're smart, and not too much of a skank whore, you'll steer clear of what is sure to be a HORRIFIC DECISION. this is as kosher as the dirtiest part of the pig. (what is it, the snout? i don't go to synagogue, either.)



Do most people find their first love in college? If so I'm screwed. I haven't found anyone. Not that I'm looking, but as a junior in college with no first love found yet, I'm beginning to feel lonely and, frankly, worried.


you and me BOTH, sister. what is one supposed to do about true love when one has dropped out of college not one but TWO motherfucking times?! um. i don't mean ME, i'm talking about some other bitch i know. anycollegeisforsuckers, i'm worried, too. really, the only reason i even went back to school in the first place was to see if i could find my prospective husband there, and all i found were nineteen-year-old child-men in pink skinny jeans and gentlemen old enough to be my dad always raising their hands first (while blurting out the answers) and stealing all the good beakers during biology experiments. i wish i could say that i had a new attitude when i enrolled in COMMUNITY COLLEGE after dropping out of regular college nine years prior, but the first day of college was like the last day of high school: i didn't feel like doing SHIT. and i got As and everything (what kind of loser goes back to school and gets shitty grades as an adult? an adult who's PAYING for it?!), but i hate homework and sitting in a classroom makes me drowsy. blarf.

although now that my anxiety is all a-flutter i'm thinking about signing up for a class next semester, just to see if any hot, single, eligible bachelors have finally decided to further their educations (and move one step closer to achieving their dreams!) by enrolling in a chicago city college located in the middle of a crackhead hooker stroll right across the street from a shady "men's hotel." i'll let you know what i come up with. pfffft.

What does it mean when your boyfriend says you have a beautiful face?

that you're fat.

How do we open up to a guy about our insecurities while it's a fact that men are turned off by insecure women? How do we know it's okay to be vulnerable about our insecurities?

it's never fucking okay. take it from a master liar and manipulator that most dudes are motherfucking PREDATORS. and sometimes that's hot, like when one has his face between your legs and is eating with the voracity of a fear factor contestant, but most of the time it's pure evil. and a lot of them think they're slick with it, but don't let that shit fool you.

have body issues? just wait until a fight about whose turn it is to do the laundry turns into a fight about how chubby you're starting to look lately. suspect you might be a little bit dumb? yeah, this could be a disagreement about where you two should go for dinner but wouldn't it be much more fun if he insinuated that only stupid people order thai food? for real. i've dated plenty of crafty liars and table-turners who cannot WAIT to throw something i've divulged to them in confidence right back in my face. nowadays i tell almost everything to the interwebs, so it doesn't really matter anyway. if a dude wants to know what i'm about i just direct them here. who has time to give some asshole a complete and exhaustive history?

so protect yourself and only tell a dude what he ABSOLUTELY needs to know: first name (or feel free to make up a better one), what you drink, and how you like to be banged. leave the rest for your ladyfriends. or maybe not, because bitches are raggedy-ass, scheming pieces of shit sometimes, too.

My boyfriend tells me I'm not fun in bed and that I need to work on improving our sex life. I don't know what to do to improve, how do I make him happy in bed?

this is a joke, right? because 99.8% of human males fuck 100% wrong, and if one ever pulled his slimy genitals out of mine after yet another lackluster, unsatisfactory performance and dared to fix his mouth to criticize MY technique i would rip his scrotum off. and i'm not kidding. i'd tear it out at the root. how about trying to make yourself happy in bed by getting someone who actually APPRECIATES you in it?

while you're looking for him, find me a unicorn, a leprechaun, an african-american father who is married to and lives in a house with his wife and children, and the loch ness monster, too. sorry. it's balls out here. heart.