Category Archives: Nonpolitical

I’ll Have Belle for my Wife, Make No Mistake About That!

With the sucess of 50 Shades, I’ve been questioning the messages behind other popular movies. Unfortunately, it has led me to one of the Disney films I remember really liking as a child. This may or may not be well discussed by others, but I don’t know; in general I’m not one of those people that enjoys Disney movies as an adult. It wasn’t until very recently that I started wondering if Beauty and the Beast was just a story about a bunch of abusive assholes and terrible people.

Beauty was my favorite Disney movie because I always related to Belle. As a child I was so shy I’d cry if people (not strangers. Just anyone) talked to me. I would rather read a book than talk to people or look where I was going. As an adult, I’m super excited for every movie Emma Watson makes. What I’m saying is, re-watching this movie made the past 90 minutes of my life suck.

I’m going to assume you have some idea of the plot of Beauty and the Beast. Belle is pretty but a bookworm, and everyone thinks she’s weird — including Gaston, the asshole handsome guy who declares he will marry her, despite her disinterest. Meanwhile, there’s the Beast, a formerly handsome prince turned into a beast for being an asshole. When Belle’s dad gets locked away by the Beast, Belle offers up herself as the Beast’s prisoner (or guest) instead. The Beast obliges, Belle’s dad is too weird for the townspeople to believe his story, hijinks ensue. In order to break the Beast’s curse, he needs someone to love him while being a beast.

From the first moment the Beast’s house supplies talk to him about Belle, he says of course it has crossed his mind she will be the one to break the spell. That means he’s thinking about her falling in love with him when he does things like lock her away and refuse to feed her.

Of course, the Beast grows in the movie, and both the Beast and Belle are outcasts of society. But she is a prisoner during the Beast’s transition. If that could have been expressed in any other way, then this could have been a charming story of watching the Beast struggle to understand politness and how to get over his anger at being shunned by the world around him.

Pro tip: if you’re close with your dad and he calls your boyfriend that “horrible fella,” you should run away. Fast. Same thing if your boyfriend prohibits you from seeing your father.

What do you guys think? Is my mind just 50 Shades-ed out, or does this rub anyone else the wrong way as an adult?

When Roommate Searching Goes Wrong

I haven’t been writing much, and that’s mostly because I’ve been busy working on the online dating book I’m trying to write.
What kind of online dating book, you ask?
The kind that talks about how terrible it can be! As an example of how creepy people can be in text messages, here are some texts from someone I met on Craigslist as a potential roommate situation.  Notice the years on the time stamps. I often forget we didn’t meet online dating — and that we never met offline at all (thank god).  This (and too many dick pics — thanks OKCupid!) is why I use Google Voice.

nope nope2nope3

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Don’t Date a Self Centered Blogger Who Has Traveled

Why do I click on links posted on Facebook? Why do I read Huffington Post? I keep learning how I’ve been doing life all wrong. Thank God so many girls are telling me how to handle traveling, so I can fix it before I go to Colombia.

Don’t Date a Girl Who Travels
I should have known from the title that nothing good was going to come from this.

She’s the one with the messy, unkempt hair colored by the sun. Her skin is now far from fair like it once was. Not even sun kissed. It’s burnt with multiple tan lines, wounds and bites here and there.

Or she’s from, I don’t know, California or Florida or some other sunny place. I guess if you travel to colder climates, you don’t count. Sorry, Antarctica.

She will be unimpressed with your new car and your expensive watch. She would rather climb a rock or jump out of an airplane than hear you brag about it

No one likes a braggart (event a braggart who brags about traveling!), but I do love cars. Did you just buy a nice one? I’d love to talk to you about its features and its specs, and if it’s a Maserati please let me drive it, thanks.
Also, I don’t really want to jump out of an airplane. It’s likely something I’ll never do…though in the moment some Dallas douchebag $30,000 millionaire who lives with his mom wants to tell me about his 2008 Mercedes, I do understand the desire to free fall tens of thousands of feet without a parachute. Immediately. During the conversation.

And she will never pay over $100 for Avicii because she knows that one weekend of clubbing is equivalent to one week somewhere far more exciting.

Dammit, I’m living my life all wrong. I guess all the backpacking I did was supposed to make me so enlightened I don’t like EDM. I have gladly spent weekends at Electric Zoo and Electric Carnival, but I don’t live in Orlando or NYC…so maybe they count as traveling?!

Not traveling. Okay, got it.
Not traveling. Okay, got it.

 

She is a freelancer. She makes money from designing, writing, photography or something that requires creativity and imagination. Don’t waste her time complaining about your boring job.

Okay, I’ll admit it: she nailed it here. I will send you pictures of my job (here I am taking a truck off roading for cash! Here I am with an NFL player at work! Here I am in lovely Huntington Beach, kind of working!) while you sit at a desk. If you hate your job, work to not have it.

Her days are ruled by the sun and the moon.

I don’t even know what the fuck that means.

Even when I travel, my life is actually ruled by 10,000,000 page textbooks and not the moon.
Even when I travel, my life is actually ruled by 10,000,000 page textbooks and not the moon.

 

She…doesn’t need you to pay for her meals.

Whoa there! Let’s not be hasty. I encourage men to pay for my meals. Hell, I encourage random strangers of any gender to pay my tab. Why not!

She will forget to check in with you when she arrives at her destination. She’s busy living in the present.

“She” sounds like a narcissistic bitch who doesn’t really care about the guy this is directed toward. You remember and make time for the people you love. If she travels and doesn’t bother to contact you, she’s just not that into you, bro.

I still appreciate a Rolex.
I still appreciate a Rolex.

OKCupid Shocks World With Corporate Version of a Face Only Photo

For anyone who doesn’t know, I’m slowly but surely working on a book about my online dating experiences. That being said…I obviously have an opinion on the announcement that OKCupid was messing with its users by lying about compatibility. That opinion is..no fucking shit.

I didn’t go on one or two online dates. I mean, I used OKCupid so much they let me become a moderator or something. I used OKCupid like it was my job. And I never, ever put much stock into their stupid little percentages.

My first ever online date was through POF (Plenty of Fish), so it became the default tag...but most of these were OKC.
My first ever online date was through POF (Plenty of Fish), so it became the default tag…but most of these were OKC.

Here’s examples of conversations that I had with guys I had a high match percentage with.

The scene is a Starbucks, the time is 8 pm. This is DC; it makes sense. Our connections on OKC include we’re both into politics and we’re sarcastic. High rating. Conversation has been going mediocre.
Him: Well, let’s just get this out of the way. Are you a Jew?
Me: No…
Him: GOOD.

This is still in the initial text/OKC messaging phase. We’re making plans to meet so we’ve exchanged numbers. Again a high match percentage — likely due to a mutual interest in politics and love of the first few seasons of Arrested Development.
Him: Do you want to see my dick?
Me: No.
Him: [sends dick pic]
Me: [vows to only give out Google Voice number so pictures can be screened]
A month passes.
Him: I didn’t realize you were such a prude.

So much love!
I guess it should be tiny penises coming out of the beaker.

I mean, how are people surprised by this? I don’t expect that everyone is a career online dater, but surely you must have noticed you were matched with some crazy fucking people at one point. My best friend and I used to talk about how a very high match percentage (over 87%) was basically a guarantee the guy would be off his rocker. Also, it’s dating. I already exercised caution and assumed everyone lied. I did, even if it wasn’t always intentional…sometimes your values and opinions change. What was mandatory to me in January might have been some somewhat important in June.

The moral of the story here: don’t invest too much faith in an online quiz that takes into consideration whether a user considers it “mandatory” their potential date likes anal.

Though deleting text from users’ profiles might explain why my disclaimer didn’t work. I ended up putting at the top of my page, “I’m not interested in having sex with you for money (or anytime soon), and I’m certainly not interested in dick pics.” Maybe OKC deleted the “not.” That would definitely explain a lot.

My Boobs Don’t Need Your Husband to See Them: Or, You Probably Think This Pic is About You

Last week one of my Facebook friends posted a link to a blog entry titled My Husband Doesn’t Need to See Your Boobs (post has since been deleted, find it here instead) I didn’t want to click on it, because I was sure it would piss me off — so of course I ended up reading it on my disaster flight and immediately became full of rage. The post is about the author’s husband having Facebook friends that post pictures of themselves in bikinis, and how it’s wrong. Yes, you read that right. Apparently any time any girl posts bikini pics on Facebook, it’s about this blogger and her husband. I bet all of their female friends sit around and just wait to take bikini photos so they can make this woman’s life and marriage miserable. Anyway, this bitch removed the ability to leave comments, so I have no choice but to write about her article here.

She starts off with some story about wearing slutty khakis in high school and then being a prude for the rest of her life. After the introduction to what it’s like to be insane, we get down to the nitty gritty.

I’m not writing to chastise you for posting your bikini pics from your lake outing. I suppose we all have enough criticism via blog spaces.

Um, what? What does that even mean? You are clearly writing an entire blog entry to chastise people for posting bikini pics, and a passive aggressive comment that “we all have enough criticism via blog spaces” only drives that home.

But I am writing to share the perspective of a woman who is fighting for her marriage. And for that reason, I want to tell you that I don’t need my husband to see your boobs.

I’m just writing from the perspective of a woman who is in a happy and committed long distance relationship. And for that reason, I want to tell you that I never tell my boyfriend who to look at, nor do I monitor his newsfeed. Because guess what? If a picture of some girl with bigger boobs than mine makes him lose interest in me, we have bigger problems than social media. Take some responsibility – happy people don’t cheat. I’m not blaming the victim, but a relationship is a two person deal, and a picture of a friend in a bikini isn’t going to make or break anything.

Anyways, what I’m saying is I don’t fault you. I don’t blame you for being confident enough to let the world see how good you look in front of the waves with your coozie and ballcap and barely anything else.

But I want to tell you that it’s a stumbling block in our marriage.

Is it, though? I know you’ve amended your blog to say you aren’t insecure, but you are a liar. Either you’re married to a 15 year old boy, or you are incredibly insecure — even if you don’t realize it. Do you know what is really unattractive? Telling your SO not to look at other women. Telling them it’s a stumbling block. If my boyfriend took my magazines and ripped out the pages of shirtless men before I was allowed to read them, we wouldn’t be together much longer. And why do you think any other woman cares? Here’s an example of something another woman should feel bad for doing: “I don’t blame you for being confident enough to let my husband see how good you look in front of our bed, with my inherited crystal wine glass in your hand and your thong on and nothing else. But I want to tell you that when you sneak into my house to seduce my husband, it’s a stumbling block in our marriage.”

When I scroll through my news feed, my thumb moves in a continuous circular motion until something catches my eye and I want to look closer. And then I tap on the picture and make that little swipe with my thumb and pointer finger so I can zoom in just as close as I can to capture all the details.

Thank you for explaining Facebook.

I’m especially bad about this when there is a line of bathing suits in the pic. AND I’M A GIRL.

Mostly I’m looking at your legs asking myself, How are there seriously people without cellulite????

Well, I used to have cellulite until Crossfit made me do a bunch of squats. But don’t worry…every squat I do, all I think about is the bikini pictures I will get to post that will hopefully ruin someone’s marriage. Virtual marriage ruining is what gets me through my work out. It’s completely about YOU.

I doubt my husband is so lucky. Actually, I know it’s next to impossible to take in images like those and erase them from his mind. Because our men are much less emotional and are much more visual. And as quickly as I can forget your picture, it is filed away in his mind, ready to be pulled back out whenever he so chooses.

Maybe this is the solution. Just write on every picture, “Thank you for posting! My hubby has it filed away in his spank bank for later on!” I guarantee these girls will unfriend the both of you, and problem solved!!!

Again, I am not faulting you. And by no means am I faulting him. This man of mine diverts his eyes from whatever questionable images flash on the screen before him. But sometimes the temptation is too much.

Really? Because every word of your post sounds like you are faulting all other women, ever. And I guess hubby can do no wrong, huh? But seriously. Do you not go to the pool or beach together? Does he keep his eyes shut? Do you poke them out? What happens? Do you only vacation at public beaches in Kuwait? Oh, the evil temptation of girls in swimsuits! I wish there were more countries where you still went to jail for wearing a bikini!!

After Memorial Day, I noticed so much skin on social media that I half-yelled a warning to him as I ran out the door one morning. It’s summertime, honey! Beware the beach pics and half nude girls on Instagram! And like that, he was in solitary confinement from all virtual community for the next two days.

……..You are a terrible, miserable controlling woman and I expect you will be cheated on in no time. I cannot even imagine how my SO would respond, but I know if I was told this, I’d be changing those locks before you got back.

Protecting his eyes, protecting his heart.

More like protecting his brain and potential migraine from hearing his Debbie Downer wife bitch at him for going on the internet. Do you know you can watch orgies with like 50 women fully nude on the internet? And you’re worried about FACEBOOK? Facebook who won’t let nips show in pics???

When your bare shoulders and stretchmark-less bellies and tanned legs pop up, I not only worry if my husband will linger over your picture. I worry how he will compare me to you.

Please, tell me more about how you aren’t insecure.

But would you, could you, keep your boobs out of my marriage? You can have your memories, and we can have our sacred hearts. And we can all get along in beautiful harmony.

I think the better option is for you to delete your accounts on all forms of social media. Better safe than sorry.

Anyone who feels the need to passively aggressively make a sad little blog entry about girls in bikinis instead of directly confronting girls or, you know, getting over it, seems like they are doomed from the start. No way this chick has a great marriage. I’d understand more if she wrote this directed to HBO or photoshopped women in Vogue or almost anything else. As it stands, all she has done is come across as a controlling and demanding wife, and as a self-centered bitch. Not all Facebook picture are about you, lady. I can basically give you my personal guarantee that none of the people posting anything are thinking about you — well, except now they probably are.

For your husband:

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Yes, I also support your right to wear leggings. Check me out on Facebook, Instagram (your best bet for more pool pics), and Twitter; subscribe to my blog here
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