The Week in Review

Later today I’m going to the DEA Museum (yes, that’s a thing), so that should provide great material. I’m loaded up on allergy drugs, so God knows if I can write anything today. For now I thought I’d link to the best of the things I saw on the internet this week (all the cough medicine in the world can’t make me mess up links…hopefully).

  • Marion Barry losing his mind over paying his parking tickets.
  • Don’t you just love it when people ask you questions about why you’re single? Oh, right. Probably not.
  • But you probably do love it when Obama sings top 100 songs to us.
  • Rand Paul hauled ass when confronted by a DREAMer, and Colbert killed it with his Rand Paul-eo diet.
  • I posted on my page a photographer’s experience with having a photo used without permission, and then a monkey had the same problem.
  • I found the best article for helping American Ebola patients in the US.
  • Lastly, Facebook has now decided everyone should use their stupid app that lets them access your microphone so they can tell when you’re watching Archer, when you’re having sex with your wife, when you’re singing to yourself while you’re home alone, when you’re yelling at your kids, whatever.

I have more blog subscribers than I do Facebook fans on my page, so I know some people missed it when I asked for everyone’s Instagram and Twitter handles. If you give it to me, I’ll follow you!

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Ever Wonder What It’s Like to Drive in DC?

Mostly it’s parking tickets and speed cameras, unless you’re Marion Barry. Then it’s all driving your car the wrong way down a road and smashing into other people, and a couple grand in unpaid tickets.

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 You’re welcome, world. He’s our gift to you.

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.

The Problem With Little White Girls Volunteering for Things They Don’t Know How to Do

Dear Pippa Biddle,

I recently saw your blog post about “voluntourism” and it irritated me enough to want to respond. I promise to talk about myself and my experiences as much as you did, and maybe together we can make some kind of conclusion – a part of writing that you kind of skipped out on.

I remember when I went to Moore, OK and no one hated me.
I remember when I went to Moore, OK and I don’t have any guilt over going.

In high school, I travelled to Tanzania as part of a school trip. There were 14 white girls, 1 black girl who, to her frustration, was called white by almost everyone we met in Tanzania, and a few teachers/chaperones.

Ah, okay. This is the obligatory sentence about the evils of whitey that justifies the headline. Well, in high school I worked almost full time at Alexandria Buick Pontiac GMC. I was one of the only white people in the dealership, FWIW.

$3000 bought us a week at an orphanage, a half built library, and a few pickup soccer games, followed by a week long safari.

$3000 would probably have bought my friends and me a shit ton of Grey Goose and maybe a weeklong beach trip. However, my public high school definitely taught me I shouldn’t start sentences with dollar signs. This isn’t a Ke$ha song.

Our mission while at the orphanage was to build a library.

My mission at Buick was to build a better car buying experience.

Turns out that we, a group of highly educated private boarding school students were so bad at the most basic construction work that each night the men had to take down the structurally unsound bricks we had laid and rebuild the structure so that, when we woke up in the morning, we would be unaware of our failure. It is likely that this was a daily ritual. Us mixing cement and laying bricks for 6+ hours, them undoing our work after the sun set, re-laying the bricks, and then acting as if nothing had happened so that the cycle could continue.

Turns out that I, as a high school student who skipped math and psych class regularly, was not qualified to save GM from going bankrupt.
Look, Pippa, I don’t even know where to start here – likely because your sentence was so fucking long I got confused.
Turns out that you, as a group of presumably rich high school students with no background in manual labor, weren’t qualified TO FUCKING BUILD HOUSES???? No. Freaking. Way.
What “men” were doing this?? The men that organized your trip? Local men that worked alongside you? I don’t know, because you never tell us.
And how do you know that this was happening? Your only evidence is that you were unaware and “it [was] likely.” That isn’t exactly the strongest argument I’ve ever heard.

Basically, we failed at the sole purpose of our being there. It would have been more cost effective, stimulative of the local economy, and efficient for the orphanage to take our money and hire locals to do the work, but there we were trying to build straight walls without a level.

Basically, if your sole purpose of volunteer work is to build a structure and not to have a lasting impact on people’s lives, you’re doing it wrong.
Basically, if your sole purpose was to do something you had no experience doing, you’re ridiculously naïve.
Basically, if your budget was such shit that no one bought a level, you should really take this up with the organization that sent you.

That same summer, I started working in the Dominican Republic at a summer camp I helped organize for HIV+ children. Within days, it was obvious that my rudimentary Spanish set me so far apart from the local Dominican staff that I might as well have been an alien.

So you went to Tanzania to build a library, and then you went to the Dominican Republic to help HIV+ children? You don’t speak Spanish, and I assume you don’t speak Swahili (what the hell did your fancy education even get you?). Where is the consistency or your passion? You’ve made it clear that helping people wasn’t your priority in Tanzania…just building a library. You don’t bring skilled work to the table, you don’t have a medical background, you don’t speak another language…why aren’t you picking a region you care about or a task you care about and focusing on that?
My background is in Arabic. I majored in it in college (along with Middle East Studies), and I minored in French. I continue my education now with conferences and independent research on the region. I have many friends from the region, and I’ve traveled extensively. I have an understanding of certain countries and their cultures (Lebanon, Syria, Pakistan) from my studies, my travels, and my friends. If I had the ability, I would go to Lebanon and help out with Syrian refugees, even if just for a week…but I likely wouldn’t do any volunteer work in Tanzania or the Dominican Republic.

However, I have stopped attending having finally accepting that my presence is not the godsend I was coached by non-profits, documentaries, and service programs to believe it would be.

This is the only sentence in your entire post that you place blame in the correct place.

It turns out that I, a little white girl, am good at a lot of things. I am good at raising money, training volunteers, collecting items, coordinating programs, and telling stories. I am flexible, creative, and able to think on my feet. On paper I am, by most people’s standards, highly qualified to do international aid. But I shouldn’t be.

It turns out that you, as a little white girl, aren’t actually listing any qualities that would make you good at volunteering in developing nations. The Peace Corps has its fair share of problems, but I would wager it’s considered the standard for international volunteer work…and what you just named has nothing to do with what they’re looking for. Instead, they list things like “those with specialized skills” and “Spanish or French” speaking abilities. Last I checked honkies can speak French and have specialized skills. Even the little folk. Even the ones with vaginas.

Before you sign up for a volunteer trip anywhere in the world this summer, consider whether you possess the skill set necessary for that trip to be successful. If yes, awesome. If not, it might be a good idea to reconsider your trip. Sadly, taking part in international aid where you aren’t particularly helpful is not benign. It’s detrimental. It slows down positive growth and perpetuates the “white savior” complex that, for hundreds of years, has haunted both the countries we are trying to ‘save’ and our (more recently) own psyches.

Pippa, why is your only blame on the people who just want to help? Why is your knee jerk reaction to talk about white savior complexes, instead of focusing on the crappy organizations that accept these kids into their programs? The organizations that don’t make an effort to match people up with something that they could actually connect to? At NO POINT here have you backed up your claims of white people being the problem. I suppose on your little high school trip the black girl rocked it and was totally effective? If not, how can you call this white savior complex? How do you explain her? What the fuck issues do you have?

I’m sorry you didn’t find whatever you were looking for on your trips, and I’m sorry that your private boarding school didn’t produce a better writer.

 

Thanks so much to everyone who has helped make this so successful! Follow me on Facebook or Instagram, and make sure you subscribe to my blog!

 

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.

If You Knock it Up, You Gotta Put a Ring On It – But Discreetly and Without Gifts (And Other Life Lessons from Sheila Kihne)

Sheila Kihne is a crazy person running for office in Minnesota. She’s got good old fashioned family values, and she wants you to know about important things — like how you’re a whore if you get pregnant without being married.

Crazy Sheila
Crazy Sheila

So let’s go through her blog a little bit. I only see entries from 2008-2009, but it’s a goldmine. First, she teaches us how to handle baby shower invitations. Isn’t it the worst thing in the world when some slut has evil premarital sex, and then gets knocked up and has a baby shower???? #FirstWorldProblems

Don’t you think that if you’re having a baby- and you’re not married- that you should forego the shower?

Of course!! Those selfish bitches, making the decision to not abort their babies and instead raise them….they shouldn’t be given any gifts!!!!! Other than maybe a pamphlet about Jesus.

I also think that if you get married- and are knocked up- you should get married quietly. At a courthouse, at a private home. There should be no 1. Dance 2. Dinner.

Yes, do the right thing. Don’t shame everyone with your big belly and public exchange of vows. What the fuck is this?? Should we instead all dress in black and follow our slutty friends to the courthouse, in mourning for the wretched world as otherwise good people succumb to the evil of sex outside of marriage?

There are more kinds of birth control available today then lipstick shades. If you don’t want to get pregnant- you don’t. This is crossing all socio-economic lines and education levels it seems to me.

Seems to me like this bitch needs to learn how to Google. I hope she doesn’t make any policy decisions based on what she feels, since births to single mothers go from 68.9% of all births to those making under $10,000, to 9% of births for those making over $200,000 a year. A similar decline in percentage happens between those who have less than a high school education down to those that have a bachelors or more. Seems to me, maybe it’s the crappy abstinence only education children are receiving. But what do I know?

She then goes on to say that it’s partly because the Boomers don’t encourage their children to put their nasty wedlock babies up for adoption. Instead, they chip in and emotionally and financially support their grandkids. Bizarrely, Kihne wraps up her thought process on the Boomers with this:

My rule is- if I don’t have to pay for your daycare, then do what you want.

What? The fuck? You obviously don’t think people should do what they want, since you are writing a blog dictating how husbandless girls should handle their baby showers. You fucking nut.

marriage is no longer seen as an institution- but an excuse to have a wedding

I’ll give you that. I don’t want to sign a paper saying, “I legally love you,” but I do want to throw one hell of a party and ceremony.

When somebody gets knocked up- without being married- you’re just supposed to hop on board. You’re not allowed to say a thing- it’s none of your business of course- but when it comes time for baby showers and weddings, rest-assured you’re going to be on the invite list.

I’d like your address, Ms. Kihne. I don’t plan on ever having a baby or ever being legally married. But if I ever get knocked up, I want to invite you to my abortion party. You might find it in better taste.

Next we learn how to save the poor. She determined that she could take the $12,000 extra she’ll have to pay in taxes, and give $3,000 to 4 families. The catch? Well, a contract with her. Because she is God.

you will submit a 1, 5, 10 and 20 year career plan- I will tell you if it’s workable- if it’s not, I’ll come up with one for you

Based on how knowledgeable she is on statistics of unmarried pregnant women, I’d assume she knows everything about it all. I also assume she knows a lot about what it’s like to be super poor and what your actual viable options are.

you will not own any of the following items (if you do, you’ll immediately sell them) an iPod, a flat screen television, video games, a computer or any designer clothing

Ah, yes. Let’s dictate what the poor are entitled to. And I hear that electronics really retain their value…you bought a $1,200 iMac 5 years ago? I bet it’s worth even more now! Good thing college kids don’t need computers, and good thing handwritten resumes are 100% acceptable! Now wear your Walmart shoes, talk on your flip phone (which you can only have if it’s cheaper than a landline), and bow down to me!

6. you will work at least 60 hours a week
7. any children 12 or over will have a job to contribute to the household income

Yes, for the low low bargain charitable donation of $3,000 you can have a child slave!!! Hell, you can have the parent work 60 hours a week cleaning your house and the child working 40!! I hear that 12 year olds are often hired for more than legal minimum wage. Oh wait, they aren’t. Maybe we could amend 7 to “sell any child under 12 to the black market.” I mean, working 60 hours a week…you’ll never see them anyway.

 you will not go out to eat for the duration of the year- nor will you see a movie or get your nails or hair done (you can do it at home)

GOOD! THERE IS NO RELAXING WHEN YOU’RE POOR. NEVER. “Daddy, I want to go see Frozen! All my friends are going!” “SHUT UP, SALLY. GET BACK TO WORK OR I’LL SELL YOU LIKE YOUR SISTER.”

12. if you live anywhere near a bus line– you will sell your car immediately

So you won’t be waiting tables, because you won’t be able to get home after work!

13. you will ensure that your children are performing well at school and work with their teachers in any possible way to make them successful- if they need tutoring- we will find the resources to do it

Unless they have to type a report. Then they’re fucked.

Seriously. What the hell.

Thanks so much to everyone who has helped make this so successful! Follow me on Facebook or Instagram, and make sure you subscribe to my blog!