WHAT. when my intestines swelled up and tried to claw their way out of my body in 2005 and my hotsex doctor made me undergo every single excruciating, humiliating exercise a human being has ever subjected herself to in an effort to figure out why she can’t stop shitting her pants, the first test he ordered was to check my autoantibody levels and take a bunch of intestinal biopsies. i had tiny, high-powered microscopes forced down my throat and up my ass for weeks. that shit was totally fucking horrifying. and thank goodness i just have crohn’s disease, so i don’t have to be one of those insufferable assholes who’s all, “DON’T LET THAT DINNER ROLL COME ANYWHERE NEAR MY BOILED LETTUCE AND RECENTLY-SLAUGHTERED MEAT!” in the middle of the goddamned restaurant. here’s the most important question, though: why the fuck would you eat the gluten-free cake if you are not intolerant? have you ever tasted that shit!? those poor fucking people; if i had celiac disease all my cakes would be made from sharp cheddar cheese. man, fuck rice flour. unless that shit makes you lose weight. because most of you liars are just doing that shit to be skinny, right? is it working? because i love bread but i'm also totally lazy. come on, girl. you can tell me. i promise i won’t force any whole wheat on you.
i was planning my girlfriend's bridal shower, and a week ago she informed me that the wedding is off. she has offered to reimburse me for the expense i have incurred thus far for various items, including the printing of invitations. should i accept the reimbursement? i feel she's probably going through enough, having to make the decision to break up with her fiancé and call off the wedding.
pardon me for being a huge piece of shit, but if i buy a fancy gift for your ridiculous wedding and you motherfuckers stay married for fewer than five years i want my tiffany sterling silver cake serving set back, please. (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE, BITCH.) if she’s writing you a check you better cash that shit immediately, before the caterer and the event space coordinator and the minister start snatching their non-refundable deposits out of her half of their joint account. you dodged a bullet, sister. nothing is more frustratingly (and inexplicably) expensive than some other bitch’s goddamned wedding. showers and parties and strippers and dresses and shoes and a male escort to go to the damn thing with you ADD THE FUCK UP, GIRL. and for what, so that smug asshole who stopped taking your calls once she got a boyfriend spends six to eight months ruining your life with her debilitating demands? count your blessings, and your money, when that sad bitch pawns her ring to pay you back for those monogrammed custom invites she demanded you spend half a paycheck ordering after you finished the calligraphy course she insisted you enroll in when a facebook event and a couple text messages would have been equally effective. BITCH.
i have been asked by a dear friend to be a bridesmaid in her upcoming wedding. the problem is, i am on a strict budget and i am sure she will select extravagant dresses for us to wear. can i hint that i have a limited income to spend on a dress and shoes? or should i simply turn her down and tell her why?
i don’t know if i will ever get married. 1 i never want anyone else to have my ATM pin, and that’s the marriage thing: that some dude can just, like, legally take my jellybean and concert ticket money to start his lawnmowing business or whatever and i just have to be cool with that. and 2 i’d be happy about it for the five minutes it takes to tweet that shit and post pictures of my tasteful wedding pantsuit on insta, then i would just grow restless and bored waiting for some asshole whose dick i don’t want to suck anymore to hurry up and die already so i could go to the caribbean with the insurance payout. but let’s say i live in a magical dreamworld where good things happen to me and i tripped over someone RUL interesting and smart tomorrow while tumbling out of the bar and, after the prerequisite eight year courtship and minimum three year engagement period while i skeptically wait for the other shoe to drop and we literally starve to save $50,000 to feed a bunch of people who hate us at a party that only lasts one goddamned day, we are finally married: i will be forty-five motherfucking years old. AND OLD BITCHES AIN’T GOTTA HAVE BRIDESMAIDS. what i look like lining up all my friends’ varicose veins in matching blue taffeta? i just want to wear my talbots mid-calf skirt and shoes with proper arch support and eat overcooked hotel steak while the DJ plays cypress hill because i came of age in the early 90s and b real is my shit.
BUT IF I HAD TO. maybe i don’t know shit about weddings, but aren’t your bridesmaids supposed to be the bitches you know the absolute best? i’ve never seen anyone’s w2, but i know which of my friends can barely afford to go half on a pizza and which ones can spring for a fancy steak dinner downtown. also, it’s hella gross to ask a person, regardless of income, to drop a shit ton of money on a dress she is going to wear one motherfucking time. even when they exclaim, “I TOTALLY PICKED A STYLE YOU COULD TOTALLY WEAR AGAIN!” the truth is NO YOU FUCKING WON’T. unless there is a junior prom in your future. and hinting is bullshit. i would be proactive and call her up. “hey courtney, i’m broke. how about i wear this $13 catsuit i got at forever 21 to your wedding?” yes, she’ll probably kick you out of the wedding party, but that is a goddamned jam! you can come late, leave early, and wear whatever flammable polyester trash you fucking want. MAZEL TOV!
am i expected to give a gift if i'm attending a destination wedding? if so, is it customary to send the present in advance? should i spend the same amount as i would for a couple getting married closer to home?
as much as i want to be like, “FUCK THEM, JAMAICA AIN’T CHEAP,” i think you still should get those jerks a gift. i like having good manners, which really means i hate giving anyone a reason to question my upbringing behind my back, so even if they said not to i would at least get them a little something to prove my limitless wealth and generosity. don't invite me to your destination wedding, tho. it's hard enough to catch a cab in your good clothes to get to a wedding downtown, let alone trying to look good halfway across the globe with only the 1 oz of hair product that survived the trip intact. and i'm not trying to make small talk with your dad while scratching a bunch of weird, oozing insect bites and fighting off some as yet undiscovered tropical disease. but if i were you i would: 1 buy a first class ticket, for sure; 2 invest in a good quality jersey dress because ironing in a hotel is the lamest, you should be drunk; 3 fuck every dude you make eye contact with over that cocktail you're sipping out of a coconut, and 4 get those assholes a giftcard in the checkout line at the grocer. congratulations, guys! please enjoy your dinner at ruby tuesday!
my sister purchased a replica of my engagement ring. what should i do?
BEAT THAT TACKY BITCH TO DEATH.
i’m getting married in october. my fiancé and i are over 45 and well established in life. both of us have houses and have been married before. we really don’t need standard wedding gifts. is there a way to ask for a gift card or just cash without being rude?
what the fuck does "well established in life" mean? because my interpretation is "please enjoy this top shelf open bar and five star buffet without worrying about buying us a goddamned thing, BECAUSE WE EACH HAVE OUR OWN MOTHERFUCKING HOUSE." why not just charge a cover? because if you don't need this toaster i bought you tj maxx along with a couple pair of new balance with fucked up stitching i purchased for myself, then why i gotta give you my money? this oven toasts four slices at a time, bro. do you know how hard it is to try to put $29.77 in a motherfucking hallmark card!? TAKE THIS GIFT RECEIPT AND SHUT UP.
how do you throw a small wedding without offending your uninvited family members, coworkers, and friends?
my boyfriend of 3½ years recently came home with an invitation to his sister’s wedding that included only his name. no “and guest,” no “my name here.” nope, only his first name. i must also mention this is a formal affair that his parents are paying for. i, of course, was offended. there was not a separate invitation for me, nor was my name mentioned on the internal envelope. he argues that of course i’m invited, and the lack of my name on the envelope means nothing. i, on the other hand, am sure this is a direct way of telling me i’m not invited. what should i do?
this might be a good night to sit home and empty out the DVR with a tube of raw cookie dough and some elastic-waisted pants, girl. i don't know, man. you're pretty fucking salty, and it just feels like really fucking bad karma to go to what is supposed to be a joyous celebration with a puss on. DO THEY HATE YOU. IS YOUR BOYFRIEND BANGING SOMEONE ELSE. ARE YOU SURE YOU'RE A REAL COUPLE. or maybe they're doing you a favor? other people's family shit is the worst. especially for those of us with dead parents. MY DAD IS NEVER GOING TO SHOW YOU HIS DICK AT A FAMILY BARBECUE. seriously, you will never stick to the plastic on my mother's 1974 sofa while choking down some dusty shake and bake pork chops, my dude. so please do me a solid and tell your parents that i am in a coma or something every time they ask when i'm coming over for game night. i would for real get over yourself and get a red box, boo. i ain't gotta shave my legs and get a haircut just to watch your drunk ass mom attempt to line dance seventeen times in one evening!? HALLELUJAH. cha cha now, y'all.
should we put “and guest” on the invitations addressed to our single friends?
man, fuck you and fuck this. YOU CHEAP BASTARDS. of course you should. the only thing worse than being a smug single person at some asshole's stupid wedding is being a smug single person at some asshole's stupid wedding with no one awesome to talk shit about it to. as much as i don't want to burden you with that extra $75 lukewarm chicken breast spent on some dude i found on craigslist, just think of it as an insurance policy that i won't fuck your reception all the way up with my drunk crying and vomit-flavored hiccups. let's be honest with each other: this idea that single people are just living it up at your holiday inn ballroom wedding is just not the goddamned truth. i was a bridesmaid one time, and i attended that wedding with only my sad singlefeelings and champagne to keep me company. i think when bitches are waxing rhapsodic about all of these amazing weddings they've been to they are totally forgetting the worst part of it, that part of the night when you didn't want to leave at old person o'clock but missed the "single and carefree!" window by, like, forty-five minutes and now you're stuck keeping an eye on the kids who've fallen asleep and you are eating all the half-eaten slices of cake left by parents your age who never get a night out and are stoked to hear songs from their high school prom so they never come back to the goddamned table to rescue you because they don't want their dream evening to end and half your spanx is wedged uncomfortably between your cheeks and you drank all of the sangria which was basically hotel grape juice with a granny smith apple floating in it and you didn't even get a buzz. OR MAYBE THAT'S JUST ME. i hope you choke on the rice they throw at you.
perfect wedding gift.