Do you date me?

Are all of you bitches terribly sad that the Jersey Shore is over?  Just as I invented my own jersey shore drinking game involving pickle juice and energy vodka shots…  Snooki and her band of brothers fade to black.  It feels like my summer is ending as well, even though it’s the middle of fucking January.

Well, praise the lord I have found a new obsession, and it’s free, and it’s on the internet.  Ladies and the five or so gay gentleman that read this blog… I would like you to meet BOBBY BOTTLESERVICE!

 

Bobby Bottleservice Tshirt Ideas for Jersey Shore - watch more funny videos

Bobby Bottle service is the new black, as well as in addition to… my new favorite person! 

Pussy and PBR

Lately it seems that reality shows are getting a little too close to home. I'm totally fine with shows like The Real Housewives or The Jersey Shore, as these shows make fun of people that I would already make fun of anyway. In the past few months though, I have heard about two different reality shows that I would be eligible to apply for, and I find this a little disconcerting. Does this mean that other people make fun of me? Crap. On the plus side, neither show will last very long, since they will both probably be the most boring shows ever made, assuming they could even get them made in the first place. (Again, not sure that this speaks well of me either. . .).

The first is a show called The Real L Word: Los Angeles. This show will follow six Los Angeles lesbians as they do normal lesbian things, like, you know, staying at home hanging out with their cats drinking chamomile tea and scissoring. I guess the show IS supposed to be on Showtime, so MAYBE they'll show the actual scissoring, but besides that, lesbians are pretty dull. I would also guess that whoever they find to be on the show will end up canceling at the last minute because they're "too tired," so it will probably never air. Bullet number one dodged.

Example two is The Real Hipsters of Silverlake. The craig's list casting call asks for "rich, wealthy, hipster GUYS and GIRLS 21-30 whose personal style is homeless chic." Now I certainly wouldn't call my personal style "homeless chic," (though I have been known to go a day or two without washing my hair), and I don't think I would consider myself "rich" nor "wealthy" (uh. . . are these different?), but these are my peeps damnit!! Let's be honest though, how many episodes can we really have of a bunch of dirty twenty-somethings drinking cheap beer and trying to out-band-name their friends ("Wait, have you heard so-and-so's new album? It's so rad. It blows (insert your favorite band's name here)'s last disc out of the water, man!"). This show is clearly being created for the sole purpose of making fun of rich people who try to look poor on purpose. Lucky for me (and my fellow Silverlakers), no self-respecting hipster would EVER call themselves a hipster, and thus would not audition for the show. Nice try haters!

If these shows ever do air, truth be told, I would watch both of them. And I would probably sleep with anyone on either.

I guess reality shows about your actual life ARE the new black. *sigh* Fuck.

The Bait-And-Switch

Dear Men (and sneaky Women),

I'd like to take this opportunity to thank you very little for a duplicitous trick of yours I just learned about... it's called the "bait-and-switch" and it goes a little something like this....

Tell a girl (or guy) you are hooking up with that you're absolutely "Ok" with the fact that she (or he) doesn't want a relationship. It's fine. It's fine! It's totally fine! No problem at all with restricting your encounters to lovely dinners, fine conversation, and raucous bumping of the uglies... nothing more needed, nothing more expected.

And then.....

Bam!

And then, out of nowhere they start dropping "I miss you", "You're fabulous", and "I wish you were my girlfriend/boyfriend". Talk about a big old FML....

Now, this puts us in a sticky predicament.... it causes self-doubt - which we don't like - and it causes us to question ourselves... were we unclear when we explicitly said, "I don't want a relationship right now," or "What we have is perfect, let's not change a thing." ???

And when we responded to your lovey-dovey-eyed insinuation, "Well, I'm not seeing anyone else..." with a stare more blank than my ex-boyfriend's face when asked to explain why he de-friended me on Facebook whilst we were still dating, what did you think we meant by that? C'mon people, this isn't Canada, you don't need to couple up just because it's cold outside...

Let's just say it's more awkward than the first time I checked out my hot first cousin by accident... Ladies! Gentlemen! I beg of you... Please don't do the bait-and-switch. It's so not the new black.

LB.

Poor Career Choices

OK, so this is kinda sorta related my Radiohead rant; but do you ever feel like there are a lot of career options you didn’t consider?  There seem to be plenty of options that don't require a 4 year degree out there and I am starting to think that perhaps I wasted a lot of time and money.

For example, I know a ticket scalper that made $3k in one night on Radiohead tickets (and that shit is not going to Haiti).  I know a guy with some sort of ailment that got him a “medicinal marijuana” perscription and then sells said weed for much more. And I am 100% sure that I would make more money than I do now if I sold something like crack instead of PR services.  Just sayin’

I also become painfully aware of how really stupid people can make a ton of money when I watch MTV Cribs.  If I see another rapper blowing trillions of dollars on shit like fish tanks with mini sharks or a “professional BMX biker” with a mansion, I might hurt someone.

Why my parents didn’t encourage me to be a stripper or rodeo clown blows my mind.  I definitely wouldn’t be asking for loans if I had those kind of skills.

“Non- traditional” careers are the new black.

High Infidelity…

Recently I’ve been pondering the paradoxical nature of monogamy. Is it really possible to be with one person for the rest of your life? Who cares? That’s not what I’m talking about… (the answer is a resounding no, btw).

I’m talking about serial monogamy: the process of dating one person right after another right after another right after another... just writing about it is almost enough to drive me to creative suicide (like doing a pike-jump into oncoming traffic) I can't imagine actually doing it.

And yet I did. For ten years. Was it fun? Sure. Was it worth it? Ya, why not. Was I monogamous the whole time? Um, I believe I’ll answer that question with another question, “would you like to have a bubble bath with your handsy perverted uncle?”

But I digress…

Thanks to ditzy Psyc Majors who ramble our ear off thinking they’re being prophetic and telling us something we don’t know after one too many Seven & Sevens, we ALL know that monogamy is a construct. Great. Thanks. But does anyone stop to think why? Cue equally intellectually inferior Sociology Majors.

So here’s my question (and hopefully it’s a new one; coming from somewhere other than a desire to pursue a major that doesn’t strategically position said girl as more marry-able and ‘cute’): if we all agree monogamy is bullshit… why do we hold this asinine construct up in such high regard? And, why do we stigmatize and alienate those who "fail" at it?

Remember the first time you shoplifted/cheated on a test/snuck out of your parents’ and/or boyfriend’s house to be with a boy/touched your BFF’s boyfriend’s naughty bits?

Um, thrilling!

Infidelity is sneaking a bite of the last cookie (and by cookie I mean married man’s you get it). It’s all us morally devoid weekend sociopaths have left. So to all you naysayers and whistle blowers… shush it! (Or don’t, some of us get off on that too).

Did you ever stop to think that there could be tremendous benefits to having a little fling? Keeps things fresh, learn new tricks, even appreciate your current partner more. True story. (Just be safe, you adorable little skank.)

I was never more vindicated on the day my boyfriend told me my skin was “positively glowing” and "what was my secret?” From that point on our love life improved immensely and I made sure to thank my on-the-side-lover for the bounce in my step… See? Everybody wins.

I leave you with two paradoxical but universal truths:

1) It’s hip to be square

2) It’s good to be bad

And that’s the new black… just don’t tell anyone, my boyfriend would kill me…. LB.

*Disclaimer: don’t be a dumbass and cheat on someone who matters or with someone who has kids. Next week’s lesson is on cost-benefit analysis…

Will Work for Corporate Rock

In order for you to understand how much distain is brewing inside me today, I am going to have to have to give you some background info.  Radiohead is playing a Haiti benefit show at the Henry Fonda theater tonight.  Tickets were sold online via auction so the highest bidder won.  The highest bidder was playing around 400-500 dollars from what I can figure out. This a “amazing” for 3 reasons:

1. OMG it’s Radiohead!  Everyone’s favorite band of all time!  Frat dudes love them! Super judgemental hipsters that don’t normally listen to music that you have heard of love them! Your dad loves them!
2. The Fonda is a smaller venue so it’s going to be “once in a lifetime experience” and what not
3. That whole giving money to Haiti thing…

 Oh wait, no one gives a shit about Haiti and I guarantee you that scalpers are going to getting much more money than Oxfam off this shit.  The insanity of people trying to get into this show is disgusting. Take for example this guy, he is clearly loaded and doesn't give a fuck about Haiti but was too lazy to get tickets on line.  On second thought, I think I am going to call him and see if he'll take me to Katsuya next weekend. Or this dude is such a fucking loser I don't even know where to start.  This douche has to be my favorite, I am pretty sure that he will be going to the Radiohead concert tonight.  And I am 100% sure that this Persian girl's daddy is going to be PISSED when he hears about her swapping her birthday present for a Radiohead ticket.

I didn't know that people were so desperate to listen to Radiohead.  I am putting my copy of the Clueless soundtrack on Ebay immediately.

Selling your soul to see some band is not the new black.

How to Hide Your Drinking Problem 101

Now, if I was to wake up on a random morning and have a vodka soda with my cheerios, you would probably think that I was a dirty drunk.  But move that meal a couple of hours later and call it "brunch" and it's socially acceptable to drink bloody marys and mimosas.


This is the thing I don't get about brunch;  why is it OK to have a bloody mary but not a rum and coke or perhaps a tumbler of Jack Daniels?  What exactly is it about spicy V8 that makes it socially acceptable to drink vodka in the morning? Does anyone even drink that shit without vodka in it?  The mimosa I kinda understand because it has a "lower alcohol content."  But in those tiny champagne glasses? Bitch please! No one had just one mimosa.


Oh well, who the fuck cares?  It's 2:00 p.m. and I've already had three alcoholic beverages today. 


Brunch is the new black.

Hope for Hotness

OK, so I know the point of the Hope for Haiti telethon was to raise money and awareness for Haiti and for Wyclef Jean to quote himself like he was the bible. And because I did my part and texted GIVE to 50555, I think that it's time to raise awareness about another terrible tragedy. Leonardo DiCaprio is not hot anymore.

Now, I have first loved Leo since "What's Eating Gilbert Grape," when he was totally robbed of an Oscar because he went "full retard," or maybe even before that when he was the hot homeless kid on "Growing Pains." Every girl in America wanted to be that fat chick floating next to him on a piece of wood in the icy ocean, the Juliet to his Romeo or join his murderous cult on "The Beach."  But a terrible event has taken place, and Leonardo DiCaprio is no longer hot.  Please refer to Exhibit A below from last night celebrity clusterfuck:

I mean, him and Jack have have the same amount of wrinkles.  His whole face just seems bloated and his mustache is beyond pervy.  He just makes me think of beer guts and sweat that smells like vodka. Sick.

Leonardo DiCaprio is not the new black.

R U 2 kewl for skul or wat?

When did it become okay to just completely eliminate all grammar and

spelling from text messages?  I mean, I get it, sometimes if I’m up to

159 out of 160 characters and I’ve already eliminated that second

space bar after all of the periods, I may spell “you” as “u,” but I

don’t feel good about it.  And occasionally I’ll throw in a “l8r sk8r”

just to be ironic, but only to people that know that I’m kidding.  I

gave my number to a girl on Wednesday, and today I had the following

text conversation:

Chick: Hey kelly..wats up..

(at this point, I am judging her already, not only on the spelling and

lack of capitalization, but on the two period ellipses instead of 3)

Me: Hello. . . who is this?

Chick: (I will remove her name for annonymity’s sake)..u gave me ur #

Wensdae nite..

Seriously?!?  I mean, I talked to this girl for about 1 minute (yes,

clearly I should be a little more selective about the strangers I hand

my number out to. . . point taken).  This text is basically the first

impression that she is giving to me.  Wensdae!?!?!?!  She spells worse

than an illiterate seventh grader.  Come the fuck on.  And it’s not

like typing “Wensdae” is really any easier than just spelling the

whole damn word.  The name of this person that I am omitting is also a

“creative” spelling (read: misspelling) of a common name.  Perhaps she

was just doomed from birth?  Even so, six out of the eight words in

this text message are wrong (including her name).  Get your ass back

to elementary school, and take your mother with you.

On the plus side, texting can make it easier and more efficient to

scan for mate quality.  I could have spent days talking on the phone

with this person thinking that she was a very bright individual.  Now

I know a person’s level of education by first text, and much less time

is wasted on those unworthy of my attention.

So what was my first impression?  Ur an idiot.  Or should it be U’r an idiot?

Textspeak is not the new black.


by guest blogger KC

I stopped caring...

Unless Adam Lambert fellates Ricky Gervais in the next five minutes I am turning this off.

The Golden Globes are not the new black.