Getting to be that age: or all of my friends are getting married now.

Dear anyone who misses The O.C., people who justify buying $400 worth of goods in addition to your initial $5 purchase at target, and Ronda Rousey:

Wow. November.

The time these days does appear to be flying. And oh my god was fall not awesome?! What with the seventy degree days and all those wonderful football injuries that fucked you over on your fantasy leagues?

It could be worse! You could be me! I just spent the last four months going to weddings.

Let that sink in. August to November. Seven weddings.

And when I say I went to seven weddings what I mean is collectively, I was blessed to sit at, and take in seven individually different celebrations of love for people that I love, people that I know cordially, and people I also found myself asking, “who the fucks wedding am I at right now?” for.

And I don’t know maybe it’s me, or like maybe it’s the way my mind works but I totally saw myself married by now. I’m 27, but I feel 43, and the time that I have been alive, I think might be greater than the time I have left.

It sounds fucked up when I read it but these are the thoughts I had sitting around and watching people celebrate their confirmed dedication to each other for the rest of their lives.

THE REST OF YOUR LIVES.

Guys. Do you know what it’s like to sit and watch people get married seven times in four months?

It’s exaugsting.

It’s nauseating.

Not for the married couples. For me.

And no before you all get angry and say things like “Well fuck Alex that asshole should have stayed home he’s not even that great, why did we even waste money on him to sit at a table and eat our caterers food.” No stop that’s not what I mean.

And don’t kid yourself, even if you didn’t invite me I would have shown up, because I don’t understand boundaries.

I didn’t mean it like that though. I’m eternally grateful that you all invited me to be part of your special days. So I could sit. And watch. And think.

Wait.

No I don’t want to think.

Is this open bar? I’m not drinking?

Shit.

Fuck.

So I think my life dilemma right now is that you guys figured your shit out before me. And maybe I’m a little jealous? I mean I’m happy for you guys it’s truly great that you all are in love and this all went swimmingly but now I’m entering the holidays and all I can think about is, should I have gotten a diamond ring instead of that bowflex machine? Have I been taking the right steps in life while I sit idly by and watch all my friends and all of my significant others friends tie the knot? And all of the “I’m sorry you’re a distant cousin to who and you’re marrying that guy who I will likely never see again but he’s a Giants fan so kinda win win?” get hitched?

I’m still riding public transportation and I still get butt hurt when the McDonald’s drive through people get my order wrong! I’m not an adult I can’t function outside of my domicile where my three cats keep watch over my emotions and I can sob into calico fur pillows and pretend the smell of dog is like that of the honeysuckle and bliss I assume all you married couples constantly detect indefinitely five minutes after you say “I do”.

Marriage is terrifying! I got a smattering of ceremonies that ranged from “hey you down?” to forty five minutes of bible scripture and just shy of a Grey’s Anatomy season finale emotional roller coaster.

And you’re telling me this is all something I have to commit to doing someday?

And going with my better judgment and a survey of my co-workers I have abandoned my original plan to grade each individual wedding and lose friends, and just go with an overall questions, concerns and advice proposal to recap all that I learned about sitting in two churches, four banquet halls, a barn and a field of snow.

1. First and foremost how do you guys decide who sits where?

Like I understand the hierarchy of family first and then non immediate family but then you have to remember where you sat people you don’t like who didn’t get along with so and so last Christmas and oh god the in laws need to be near the parents but not far from aunt Margery who is off boozing away at the wine bar because you couldn’t find a spot for her at the family table so you put her with your roommate from college that had two kids one by a guy she met at a dirt bike convention and a second with your fourth cousin twice removed but now she’s single and loving it.

It’s just a headache. Why not put cards out and let people pick?

That seems like it would alleviate a lot of problems too especially since people don’t like dancing and that way they can just chow down in the corner and spend the rest of the night watching what their friends on Facebook are doing that they aren’t.

Also why did you seat me in the background? Do I smell? Were my chiseled features not good enough to make an appearance in the “natural” looking wedding photos?

2. I need a five minute sit down with your caterers!

Your weddings, although glamorous and glitzy gave me just cause to file grievances with the department of health. Do you understand what eating copious amounts of prime rib and dinosaur BBQ does to ones waistline?!

Like who the fuck do you think you are feeding me all this delicious food?

I was a 36 in July! A 36!

Now, I am waiting for thanksgiving to roll around and I have already surpassed my holiday weight gain limit and here I am over in the corner of my future in laws a-frame cabin in Tennessee pouring tears out of my eyes and into a bowl of stuffing and mashed potatoes that I know doesn’t need any more salt but fuck it what else are these tears good for?!

And you get to offer buffets to your guests?! Do you know who needs to eat a buffet?! No one that you expect to dance for four hours afterward! I’m honestly not sure how people didn’t barf after half of these gatherings. Like if Jason Derulo wasn’t enough to get the party going you had to offer me smoked brisket slathered in sweetened pork gravy love atop a pile of puréed cheddar potatoey goodness that has enough roasted garlic in it that nasfuratu would shit himself upon it being plated in front of him?

Dammit no. I want my abs back.

Ok I never had them but still! My restraints in life come from two things, knowing when to stop listening to Justin Bieber in front of women and knowing when you don’t NEED to buy that shirt because you have bills to pay this month, and frankly I’m kind of struggling with one of those.

Point is, can we all just pick something light and cheap like Tyson anytizers or like literally anything off the dollar menu of Taco Bell?

My food consumption is an issue. I’m lookin at you Mazzone Catering, with your after dinner and dancing sliders and fries. Knock that shit off. It’s too delicious to say no to.

3. Go home ceremony length you’re drunk.

There is one smidgeon of a question I had from all the weddings that I want to take note of, and it pertains to the actual ceremony. You know the part where you pledge your undying love to each other before you whip and nae nae your sweaty bodies all over the place like you know culture because the YouTube showed you how!

Is there like a time frame the wedding ceremony itself is supposed to go? Because I feel like as the months passed they just got progressively shorter, like some higher being was looking down and thinking, “God these people aren’t gonna make it, just let them get drunk and forget that they haven’t been sexually active in months. Let’s go pastor Bill, make the upper hand joke and get these two in front of hundreds of people clinking their champagne glasses for the rest of the night”.

And a side note. I know it’s cute to have an outdoor wedding. But snow. No. Just no. Have a backup. I’m still nursing a knee injury from a pop warner game back when I was fifteen and it doesn’t know how to hang below thirty eight degrees.

Time heals all wounds my ass.

4. Please for the sake of me choose your music carefully.

Band or DJ is the quintessential question at hand here and honestly unless you hit the big payload from the lotto or you work at Regeneron I wouldn’t bank on booking Bon iver to woo your guests into magical wedded bliss with his sensual voice.

Plus who wants people having sex at their wedding?

No listen, if your DJ has the Macarena, the chicken dance, the cha cha slide or the Cuban snuffle or whatever other jalopey might instruct you how to dance in their playlist, give them the boot! Anyone can see that a DJ who grabs a top twenty playlist off iTunes immediately resorts to the regular charades about ten songs in, they cue the twist! Make them soulja boy! Now quick! Everyone who’s married start dancing and I’ll just start counting and you’ll sit down when we have passed the number of years you have been married.

I don’t have the time. Obviously there are some old ass people here and your inability to count by fives is going to take at least a half hour away from time I could be hearing the weekends new hit single! Btw ‘unforgettable’ by Nat King Cole seems to be the go to song for the guess who has maintained putting up with each other longest game.

And if you go live band, is it appropriate to see if they can switch songs spontaneously and groove their way from back to black into backstreet boys? Like honestly I myself am holding out for Lou Bega to hit me back in regards to performing at my wedding. But if that falls through I can always ask this guy Paul I work with to croon everyone with his hits of the forties.

5. Are your wedding photos sacred?

I am genuinely sorry in advance for any and all mistrust and confusion that I may cause by inserting really awkward faces and messages into any and all of the memories you hoped to preserve on your special day. I fully intend to continue this trend into my own wedding photos if it’s any condolence.

I just have this awkward face and all of these glorious moments where your cameras just seem to focus on me. I can only look pretty so much!

Honestly, let me just say this. All of your special days were lovely and I can’t imagine what my life would be like if I didn’t get to celebrate with you guys. None of you got drunk before the ceremony. None of you needed that extra Xanax to get you down the aisle. And none of you vomited in a bathroom to the best of my knowledge.

You all get an A. You’re all Glen CoCo and you all go.

But if someone asks I’m officially wedding-ed out. I hope your love and happiness lasts forever like the profound impact that ‘wrecking ball’ had on me when it came out.

Until next year. Like October next year. When I have to actually be in a wedding for the first time. As the best man.

And try ever so hard to not fuck that up.

But in case I do, I at least have this blog to share about how it all goes down.

Sincerely,

A guy who is really sorry in advance Kurt and Rachelle’s wedding guests.

P.s. Most things are garbage.

 

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Culturally Insensitive: or something like that.

Dear Post Coital Couples, anyone who has strawberry blonde hair that I have referred to as a ginger, and any men who can grow a beard bigger than mine, which I know isn’t hard but still fuck all you guys:

Pop culture is one of those things I can generally do without in my life on a regular basis, but it’s also one of those things I really fucking love being part of my life. It’s a conundrum, I know. But good god it’s a really large issue for me.

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And honestly it raises questions internally that I come to find I have about myself. Like when I’m standing in a group of friends three days after I tell my girlfriend that pop culture doesn’t matter that much to me, and I’m trying to play it cool, glaring at friends through my horn rimmed glasses and flicking the cherry of my clove cigarillo, listening to all of them go on and on about the drivel that takes up their lives and then one of them says something like “ugh I can’t believe the Kardashian’s are even still relevant” and then something clicks inside me and I feel this need to defend the honor of these strangers I don’t even know and I come back with something just undeniably ridiculous like, “Excuse me what the fuck do you mean by that? The Kardashian’s are one of the most relevant groups of celebrities today!” And then I see them judge me and I’m quick to cover my statement and make it sound like I was truly just being sarcastic by following that up with “Kim gave one of the most memorable blow jobs of our time!”

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Everyone lol’s. Crisis averted.

For now.

But then I remember how close I was to admitting I have a problem.

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I think my brain gave up hope on trying to justify my cultural likings. Obviously I won’t be that guy who justifies going to see the next Nicholas Sparks movie because honestly fuck Nicholas Sparks and fuck his movies. Did you even bother taking time to see ‘A Walk to Remember’? That was the last culturally relevant movie that was made based on a book of his. You can put eight million Zac Efron’s and twelve Ryan Gosling’s into a Nicholas Sparks film but no matter what the context, even if you make them have the all time greatest homosexual on screen romance with graphic animalistic sex scenes, but you cant top the performance Mandy Moore gave to that film. Honestly, when she died, I died.

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I don’t believe anyone that says they didn’t.

I digress…

The problem, is that my tastes, while firm and finite in my mind, are scattered all over the fucking place like the lost souls of celebrity children who end up cutting their hair, experimenting with drugs, and filming themselves taking it on camera.

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For example. because I know this isn’t going to resonate with everyone, lately there have been a multitude of things that hit home for so so many in their heart of hearts. But for so many other reasons than the actual ones that I enjoyed them for.

Like ‘Hotline Bling’.

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You remember it. Drake, came out of the woodwork following some bang up tracks that put Meek Mill’s name to shame when he was trying to have a disgustingly simple rap battle over the interwebs. And suddenly, in all it’s glory, there was neon glow, backgrounds, and Drake. Dancing alone.

Why on earth was it so good? Was it good because of it’s healthy and incredibly catchy tune? Yes.

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Was it good because Drake is a cultural icon for anyone that feels the need to continue finding beer pong relevant and require background jams to get them through the fact that everytime they miss a shot they are admitting to the world just how inaccurate they are, both in sport and in life? Yes.

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But the reason it resonated with me? Drake officially gave his okay to white men everywhere to get drunk at weddings, bar mitzvahs, or whatever culturally boring event they want and dance like they are five stanky legs away from shaking out that bowel movement they have been holding in for an hour. I can literally scoot my pelvis around, point my fingers, and generally just wave my hand in different directions, and no matter what happens, if someone tries to call me out on it I can just start singing “You Used to Call me on my Cell Phone…” and they chuckle, and I continue my generic whitebread dance, and we all get along and go home after the wedding or four year old’s party at Chuckee Cheese and the whole world falls sleep saying something like…

“Damn, remember how awesome Alex was at dancing that hotline bling jig?”

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Straight up I have an issue with how I view things in the entertainment world. Are you enjoying watching American Horror Story this season?

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Awesome, me too! But guess what, not because its quality television! This whole baby vampire plot line was some twilight bullshit that Ryan Murphy ripped straight from the headlines of every article about how Twilight made a lot of money and teenage girls wanna watch Vampires scrump and feed on each other.

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And thank GOD we found all the hot gay actors to use as an opportunity to make GAGA appear well suited for the season, am I right ladies? Because that’s totally gonna work out when you become famous and come face to face with Matt Bomer and he feigns interest so he can keep scoopin on your male date’s wing-wang. Because how else would this season work, what with all of the awesome garbage they’re visually stimulating our eyeballs with, like blood, bleeding, and things covered in blood. Go team GLEE! You learned how to scare five year old kids with no imaginations!

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Want to know what does it for me? I am watching eagerly because I am hoping that eventually there is going to be something that genuinely scares me. I have such hope after the first two seasons that there is going to be something that would genuinely scare me, and then they went and put out two seasons filled with timid characters trying to find their ‘real selves’. I know…

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Gripe Gripe Gripe.

But seriously that’s the draw for me! I want that horror that genuinely instills fear in me. I haven’t seen an actually scary movie in SO LONG. I used to do a podcast centrally focused around movies and I even said on there that the horror films that get put out today are just a gross misrepresentation of what directors think we will be most afraid of, like gore, and sex, and gory sex.

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The Human Centipede series was legitimately the most mind numbing thing I have ever seen, even watching a persons mouth be pulled by needle and thread into the anus of another human, only to consume their poo and continue on in life as the nazi science project they are. Still no scare.

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Horror has lost its edge man. You wanna step back on the band wagon? Make some horror films about scary ass shit. Make me a horror film where you pull up the McDonald’s Drive through and everyone inside has been murdered and its late, and you know you cant go in there but the sheer fact that you wont be able to get that Big Mac you showed up for in the first place is just fucking terrifying lets be honest.

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Do you see where this is headed? I am a confused man child who cant get a grasp on what it is he likes. The good movies bore me. The boring movies make me horny. And porn just doesn’t cut it anymore. Give me plot! Stop picking up girls on the side of the road and banging them in the back of a van. There is nothing sexy about that.

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That’s how you get the clap.

Am I honestly supposed to believe you just pick up these women who look like someone that has been rode hard and put away wet, and your first thought isn’t ‘How do I know this woman is clean?’

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You’re just going to chance it? BangBus I DON’T BELIEVE YOU.

I am going to be the guy that likes Batman v. Superman or whatever because Ben Affleck gives a stellar performance that I can actually hear because he isn’t grumbling through his overbite like that half bit hack Christian Bale used to. (Thank God)

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I am going to be that guy who gets stoked when the next Adele record comes out because I want to hear a female singer that might actually put out an album that doesn’t have more than one song on it about how a guy did her wrong. Adele already did that. I have high hopes that this one is going to have like A SINGLE song on it that references whatever sad bro gave up on a thicky thicky thick girl and now she hella famous and he’s shootin smack on the weeknights because his rent check bounces.

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I WILL STRAIGHT UP BE THE GUY WHO GOES TO SEE EVERY SINGLE TYLER PERRY FILM WHEN IT HITS THEATRES BECAUSE THOSE FILMS ARE EMOTIONAL GOLD. Not to mention the plot twists and sincerity that goes into the man’s work is just inordinately good! I give zero fucks! If you cant Madea then friends we can’t be-a.

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Do you understand internet? The straightforward course that you’ve all been running is misguided!

And now I’m here to fix it.

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One post at a time.

Sincerely,

Someone slowly slipping into the depths of irrelevancy.

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I’m still not sure why my dad read ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’.

Dear anyone who was a dick on April Fools Day, John Legend, and parents confused about what makes a good gift for a child’s birthday:

We are back!

Writing hiatuses are always tough, because for some reason or another you just lose that drive to have something to write about. You want to write and you start, and then you end up with five entries saved in your draft queue that you never follow through on.

Fortunately, all at once almost at the exact same time, all these great things come rushing in at once and you’re overwhelmed and you’re confused and you just think, quick write it down or you’re never going to be famous and you’ll never be able to go back to your twenty year high school reunion and rub it in the faces of everyone who became a doctor or a lawyer.

But realistically what actually happened here is I got lazy. And then the holidays happen and I suffer from a really nasty case of seasonal affective disorder or SAD which is absolutely appropriate. A lot happened in four months, and I will absolutely get around to an update on life soon, but that’s not what today is about.

Today is about addressing something for the guys out there. Because it was a huge success in theaters and all your girlfriends lost their shit when it came out, ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’ swept the world off its feet and made everyone consider their comfort levels in the bedroom, but for one reason or another you didn’t get around to seeing it.

And that is why this blog exists. Because you as a gender (males) need to know what happens in this film, and why your girlfriend needed to see it. And because MY girlfriend wouldn’t fucking drop it, we downloaded it illegally and watched it together so I could find out exactly how great this work of art ended up being such a huge part of pop-fucking-culture. 

And this is all off the cuff, so as you read it, you are legitimately seeing the movie as it goes along. But through my eyes. Which lets be honest, is the only way you should ever watch a film.

And so:

Fifty Shades of Grey : a comprehensive play by play breakdown of one of the most confusingly pointless films ever made from a book I’m still confused about why my father ever read.

  • So the movie opens on overcast city scape and what I assume is Christian Grey running all over the place getting exercise. I already have nothing in common with the male lead and have no investment in this film.

  • The camera has panned to show him in front of his closet trying on one of eight of the same suit and what I assume are fifty shades of grey in ties. So far I have been able to deduce that I am watching American Psycho or Barney Stinson on How I Met Your Mother.
  • We finally meet the Romanian princess Anastasia and she has bangs, a floral button up and is giving Zoey Deschenel a run for her money in a race for who is the most frumpy recluse in America.
  • Fuck, I downloaded a version with Asian subtitles. If the movie wasn’t ruined before, it surely is now. The movie was already ruined I just hate when I get what I paid for, or lack thereof, when it comes to downloading illegally.
  • Things we know about princess Frumpington ten minutes in: she is really smart, overwhelmed by tall buildings in city skylines and may or may not be a lesbian.

  • Or she knows she’s about to meet that guy with the weird sex dungeon (SPOILERS)
  • Mr. Grey will see her now.

  • Barney Stinson’s secretaries all appear to be better looking than Frumpalina, which leads me to believe this guy this guy is gay or he surrounds himself with really attractive women to overcompensate for his small penis.
  • Makes more sense why Frump Queen has been invited to conduct an interview with him. Low expectations. She tripped walking in and totally shattered any dreams Barney Stinson may have had about banging her on his desk upon their first meeting.

  • She forgot her pencil for the interview, she is super unprofessional but luckily he’s got a pencil to give her in the first of what I will assume are a million sexual innuendos.
  • He looks twenty. Is he twenty? How the hell is he in charge of this company. It had to have been handed to him by family, there’s no way he worked his way to the start of an enterprise at twenty.
  • That means he is lazy or they casted poorly, but either way I’m already bored with this movie, like if this was a first date I would have asked for a check and mentioned that the chit chat was covered over tinder.
  • There is so much sexual innuendo in this that I can’t take it seriously.

 

  • He is not gay according to her interview questioning. I’m not buying it. I mean if that does end up being the case I guess it is good because I feel like the movie would have turned out so much differently.
  • Maggie has stated she just wants to watch only the sex scenes. I inform her that as a dedicated blogger I must push through the intense grey set design the filmmakers chose and make it through ALL scenes of this movie.

 

  • Okay so in Mr. Grey’s interview he was polite and courteous and smart and intense so he’s probably a good guy and like isn’t this is how it always starts? Do girls even try to gauge the crazy nowadays? How exactly does one identify a psychopath?

 

  • We’re back at her kitschy apartment with her amplifyingly hot roomate where she, plain jane, is opening a plain loaf of white bread to suit her plain Jane needs. So far the loaf of bread is the best actor in this film.
  • She gets on the phone with her mother and from what I can tell this woman’s relationship with mom is strained which is funny considering how strained is part of the word restrained. Lol at bondage jokes.

 

  • Cut to homegirls work and th…woah this motherfucker stalked her to the Home Depot she works at. Maybe a red flag? No? Oh! An opportunity to flirt, please carry on!
  • Cable ties and masking tape are on his grocery list today
  • And rope

 

  • He’s either looking to fasten down a tarp for his highschool graduation party or he’s gonna put someone in a very precarious predicament.
  • Plain Jane can’t function talking to him, but like…does that actually happen? Every girl I’ve ever talked to has never been at a loss for words when they want to say ew no go away, creep.
  • He should have bought a shovel and Lyme to throw her off the scent of his prison hostel dungeons

 

  • Good news though, he still managed, after all those creepy purchases to get her to go the hotel he was staying at.
  • Bad news he only invited her to take his picture.

 

  • This storyline is horrible…Did this book really do it for all the women of the world? Like I’m all for the whole movement of viva la woman and Rihanna’s ‘S&M’ song or whatever sparks butt play amongst even the most proper of people, but did grade level writing that is loosely based on twilight fan fiction really get y’all’s jollies in a bindle?

 

  • He doesn’t do the girlfriend thing and therefore he has to let her go. Am I the only one that has used that line before? The last time I used that line I ended up dating the person I said it to.
  • Does this mean the movie is over now?

 

  • Nope, guess not, because this motherfucker wants to toy with her emotions. So he bought her collector series books, which implies that, well… I guess he didn’t have to let go of her THAT much
  • Cut to the next scene and she is doing shots at a bar with her gay bff that looks at her like he wants to be in her pants yesterday.
  • Christian is home contemplating his lust for her (or whether she has any single guy friends) surprise surprise and apparently drinks white wine. Honestly I bet he knows where it’s from and the grape type and whatever blends went into it and shit about tannins and regions and shit…

  • Now they’re on the phone and he doesn’t like that she is drunk. She hangs up on him and Lol Christian won’t stop calling her back, just like the needy boyfriend who doesn’t wanna be the boyfriend but wants to control every aspect of your life.
  • He is coming to get her at the bar…even though he has been drinking…tsk tsk Mr. Grey
  • Speaking of which five bucks says he shows up and he is wearing grey
  • Gay bff is not gay, though the decision on Christian Grey is still out. We’ve all played that card before though, right? Oh I’ll totally spend the night watching chick flicks and bonding with you and not even remotely thinking about you naked and on top of me. And then you cry ONCE during ‘a walk to remember’ and your shot is ruined…

 

  • Christian has arrived and he has grey on, and I’ll take that five bucks.
  • She barfed on him, now he has grey and brown on. Not a good color combo. He can probably pull it off though.
  • He took her back to his hotel room which happens to be bigger than my entire house I’m just saying, like what the fuck did I do so wrong in life that this guy can pay my mortgage for a nights stay in a place like this and I get to come home to my dog rolling around in his poop because he keeps eating people’s shoes so we have to crate him while I cry in the shower alone every night?

 

  • His accent comes through when he is acting sometimes and I can’t take it. Motherfucking casting directors could pick from eight billion handsome people and you couldn’t find ONE handsome American actor?
  • He makes a necrophelia joke, she again, does not see any red flags.
  • He eats her toast for breakfast like, super sensually, but still, that motherfucker would have lost a finger if it was me sitting across from him. I don’t fuck around with my toast.
  • He explains that he doesn’t do romance. So so far it sounds like he just wants to bang. Like period. No relationship, no romance. So I’m pretty confident it’s just sex…
  • …Or he is a murderer.

 

  • Laying the innuendo on heavy again and she wants him to enlighten her. Wink wink.
  • He needs her written consent to touch her, and I assume the rest of the movie can only go downhill from here. It seems like a reasonable request from a serial rapist on parole, but maybe he is just a really good guy that gets “No means no’.

 

  • Grey’s brother is shaggy from scooby doo.
  • Maggie (my girlfriend, not a film character) is getting a weird female giggle thing down while we watch this movie, first it was cute now it’s distracting me from figuring out if there is an actual plot in this godforsaken piece of shit referred to as a movie.
  • He gets her car service home from her job and a helicopter ride waiting for her like WHO THE FUCK CAN COMPETE WITH THAT KIND OF BULLSHIT!? No one ever takes me on helicopter rides before they introduce me to bondage.

 

  • Idea for a plot twist: he shoves her out of the helicopter once in the air and turns out to be a serial killer who then gets down with the male driver of his car service limo.
  • Kidding, my luck isn’t that great
  • His “home” place is okay, in like an “I bring in at least eight figures” kinda way
  • Okay so, she signs a contract not to talk about him because obviously he has a reputation to protect as a non psychopathic sex freak. Why can’t people just be more open minded…
  • He opens the door to the sex chamber (It’s red)
  • I hope he likes scat play because anistasia just shit a brick
  • Don’t worry, he has rules for how this whole ‘taking control away from a person and beating them with rods’ thing works and good news! If she obeys his commands she gets him as a consolation prize. But not as a boyfriend. Or romantically.
  • How many people honestly would look at all this and be like hey yeah this seems like a good idea. Raise your hands. Head count?

 

  • She is a VIRGIN! Bomb just went off! Homeboy is not happy, but no worries apparently all is good in grey town and he has no qualms about being her first.
  • We have reached sex scene number one and she has chosen to wear granny-panties.
  • Maggie has the biggest grin on her face. Which confuses me because this movie is in no way doing anything for me.

 

  • Christian is officially no longer wearing anything grey. Because he is no longer wearing anything.
  • Oh good he’s using a condom, we don’t need any accidental psychopaths running around in the near future.
  • She is up cooking him breakfast. Apparently the morning after losing your virginity to basically a complete stranger the first thing you wanna do is make them breakfast and stay in their personal prison.

 

  • She must feel guilty or something because her face is super red, like allergic to getting laid red
  • There are now Boobs. The first boobs of this movie hooray. And by hooray I mean they’re just kinda meh.
  • Maggie agreed so I feel justified in writing that.

 

  • He has grabbed a tie and appears to be binding her wrists and asking her not to move. She keeps moving. Her ability to follow directions seems like it’s gonna be a problem In the future.
  • His mom has somehow walked into his house unannounced. Therefore she has a key. Therefore he is a mommas boy. I know because I am one.

 

  • Mom seems like a peach, super nice, so she’s hiding something. And this is apparently the first woman mom has ever seen him with. So Mom probably thought he was gay. (Join the club)
  • He doesn’t wanna be seen in public with his sex slave, but he DOES want to have his cake and whip and flog it too
  • I’m starting to fall asleep, straight up.

 

  • They’re going on nature walks and recapping his backstory and is all super boring.His mom friend made him a sub. She was a dom. Blah Blah Blah. He bought her a MacBook Pro like it was a mc flurry off the dollar menu so she can research the kind of kink he is into. Seems a bit much when she could probably just search on her phone.
  • She seems to have come to her senses after researching. She doesn’t seem down with all of this anymore.

 

  • He doesn’t like that answer and Jk she wanted to be tied up she was just messing with him I guess?
  • She giggles-He doesn’t-probs about to commit murder I mean I wouldn’t laugh either.
  • What a great family film. I would love to interview some parent that brought their kid to see this with them because they couldn’t get a sitter.
  • Beyoncé is on while they bang, marking officially the first thing I agree with decision wise in this film.
  • He goes down on her with an ice cube in his mouth. Everyone knows icecubes are for ameteurs. He is probably getting the engine primed before he does it with a fireball candy.

 

  • She has problems with the contract agreement, but I bet it’s not anything too detrimental.
  • Address change-Shocker
  • No fisting-No genital clamps-no FUN
  • What are buttplugs? Like for the drain on tubs?

 

  • She needs Clarification of some terms. Hopefully they are ‘yes’ and ‘no’
  • Homeboy is sweetening the pot with a date once a week if she plays nice.
  • I think that he can physically smell her pheromones.
  • I’ve straight up seen pornos with better acting than this movie. She keeps building him up and breaking him down really abruptly he is going to get blue balls. Zero fucks appear to be given by her. I really hope she turns down this contract.
  • He said he wanted to fuck her into next week-That’s some space time continuum shit, you can’t mess around with that kind of stuff. This is either romance or Sci-Fi you cant do both.

 

  • He kinda looks like Dan from gossip girl. Great, now I kinda wanna start gossip girl over now. I’m more of a Chuck Bass fan myself but you know it’s the thought that counts.
  • She has officially graduated. From highschool?
  • And ah good they’re drinking to celebrate her saying yes to the contract. She’s probably gonna need a few more drinks in her to be okay with his plans anyway.
  • Alcohol and domination are always good combos for life choices.
  • He bought her a car for graduation. Shes gonna have to give so many blowjobs to make up for this gift. That’s like overbearing I have no idea how she is comfortable with this!

 

  • He is spanking her over his knee. Because she rolled her eyes. I am so happy Maggie just calls me an asshole when I do it, this would just make me uncomfortable.
  • Andddddd he left her alone to go to work. So like a man…
  • Shit I fell asleep…where are we?
  • She’s tied up.
  • He’s gonna hit her six times, and she is going to count with him.
  • Did Maggie switch this to an episode of Sesame Street?

 

  • She’s crying.
  • None of this seems sexy.
  • I have like an inverted boner.
  • I’m so un-turned on.
  • I’m gonna rest my eyes now.
  • No I’m gonna keep one open in case Maggie gets any bright ideas and tries tying my wrists with the plug from the table side lamp.
  • No one is happy. He is sad. She is sad. Everyone is sad. Apparently all that weird stuff he spent two hours of my valuable time warning her about didn’t go over well.
  • Can’t wait for the sequel. Hope they recast and go in a different direction. Like leaving this drivel in the book form which is already WAY further than it should have gotten.

I’m not saying the movie was bad. 

I’m saying the movie was awful.

I maintain that the white bread Dakota Johnson ate is still the best actor in this film by the end credits.

And because blogs are great fun, sometimes your friends from highschool make them, and because they are friends you plug them on your blog, even if their blog is about being a parent and having babies, and your blog is about pornagraphic adaptations of mommy smut. Somehow you just have to tie the two together to somehow make them work just so you can help them with the plug.

So please, take time to settle in for a nice read about the qualms of having children, from one of the many people I went to school with who got pregnant and married already and left me feeling like somehow I have not lived up to my potential.

But really, it’s a good read written by a great person.

MommAccountable

And as always, remember that most things are garbage.

Also I’m leaving for another vacation in two days with the girlfriend, and we all know how those go, so check back soon!

Fondly, and still uncertain how I can process thoughts after watching such horrible drivel for the sake of my girlfriend,

Me.

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Be Underwhelming: Rules for Impressing Lovers on Vacation.

Dear Mom and Dad, Wegmans and whoever plans to travel soon,

I wanted to let you know that I heard your caution to take things slow during this new relationship. The advice you gave was clear and concise and any normal human being would heed your warnings.

But much like the time you told me not to try making s’mores in the toaster oven, and though I still maintain they would have tasted great regardless of the house burning down, I have chosen to ignore your decree.

And so in an attempt to woo my new lady of the night (no she’s not a hooker she just works until 6 so I usually only see her in the evenings), I asked her to go on a vacation.

I know what you’re going to say…and honestly, I feel like we have known each other for years! I really feel as though I know enough about her to invite her on a long car ride to meet family members I usually wait until the second Christmas to introduce.

I believe it was the wise Chris Brown who once spoke of amorous feelings when he said:

“I’m on some new shit, I’m chuckin them deuces up.”

Such wisdom. He most certainly does not GAF.

(Mom this means ‘give a fuck’)

And so we set out on a drive down the east coast to Virginia Beach for one unbelievably relaxing vacation. I figured I would just update you and let you know about all the rules I learned about vacationing with lovers and the plethora of events we got to experience together making our power couple status comparable to that of HOV and Bey.

Rule 1:

You’re going to want to get an early start on your vacation. In this case I made sure to accommodate our circumstances well. When I say circumstances I mean she drove the whole way. So as a surprise, and in order to ensure she wouldn’t have to hit rush hour traffic or be driving late into the evening, I set my alarm for 4:30 a.m. just to make sure she was wide awake and ready to cart our asses around.

Don’t worry, I used Miley Cyrus for an alarm ringtone so she would wake up really happy.

We stopped at McDonalds for breakfast, and I couldn’t decide which breakfast sandwich I wanted her to buy me more, bacon egg and cheese on a bagel or a biscuit, so I just ordered both with a coffee and I definitely should have gotten the biscuit only, the bagel was sub-par but whatever I didn’t buy it.

Well, whatever the mud they called coffee actually is, it ran through me quick and I had to stop at a rest area. Plus it gives your beau a half hour to stretch their legs while they cart your Ms. Daisy ass around.

Rule 2:

If you stop for bathroom breaks, take your sweet time. You’re gonna be on the road a while, and even if your partner doesn’t have to go, you don’t want to rush.

Also, in the event you clog the rest stop toilet, I know you are wondering and yes, definitely tell your boo as you exit the bathroom. They will be proud and they will congratulate you with things like:

“Those things are made to take down anything and everything…just…how?”

“You’re so pretty”

Rule 2a:

Fart.
Fart a lot.

Rule 3:

If you stop anywhere for an hour or two, and there is a mall nearby, and you’re a man, prepare to be there for three to four hours. I don’t plan these things well, and I like shopping, but somehow whenever my new boo takes me to the mall to grab

“a strapless bra”

it really means

“new flip flops, a maxi dress, wait maybe this maxi dress, or this maxi dress, can you pick one of these the navy with gray striped maxi dress or the navy with charcoal striped maxi dress, never mind I’ll get both, new hat just in case there’s sun, probably a soda, but no not that soda, I want the soda from that place, ew this one has zero carbonation, probably a haircut at this Sears salon would be cost affective and convenient because we’re here, don’t you need sweatpants oh well whatever I’ll just wear them, oh I work here so I get a discount we should walk the perimeter of the store eight times just in case I can use my store discount maybe, do you think it’s warm enough for flip flops maybe I should return them, oh and did you want to stop in the Chik-fil-a we originally came here to eat at?”

Rule 4:

As a passenger, it is your absolute duty to entertain the driver. They are going to get stressed, and you are going to hit traffic, and when you hit this traffic and they double down with exhaustion and anxiety and all they want to do is sleep and stop driving, that’s when you have to up your game and prove you are the best car co-pilot ever as well as a useful lover not just during the secks.

Tell them how good they’re doing. Things like:

“Honey, you’re overreacting you just need to learn how to merge properly.”

“That was the exit a half mile back you just chose not to get over so we’ll just find the re-route.”

“Your emotions are surprisingly tame for having your period, that in itself is something you should be proud of.”

And when THAT doesn’t work, pull out the big guns, and distract the other drivers trapped in the gridlocked hell by smushing your beautiful face against the passenger side window. Your driver will laugh through her tears and that four car fender bender you cause will be a distant memory in thirty to forty minutes.

Rule 4a:

Definitely take a lot of pictures of your girlfriend even if they don’t want you to, like in the rain or when they’re trying to “snuggle” or whatever.

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Rule 5:

No matter how good of a person you are, don’t fuck with the universe by saying things like “we made it safe and sound” a block from your destination…

…because the universe will summon animals, like Bambi…

…and your driver/girlfriend will barrel into Bambi’s skull at a high rate of speed…

…and she will have another panic attack because this is the first deer she has ever hit EVER and she will of course, have just been talking about how nothing has ever gone wrong with her car since she’s owned it just before this occurs.

Definitely keep your thoughts on safe arrival to yourself.

And whatever you do, don’t refer to your lover as Bambi murderer or Venison creator for the rest of the trip.

Rule 6:

Take some time for you. Get a pedicure. They are fantastic.

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The chairs assault your back like you owe it money, and they do all kinds of things to your feet that you never knew you could do. Like shave them, lotion them, and give your legs a massage that could make a paraplegic moan with joy.

Rule 6a:

Don’t make paraplegic jokes. Ever.

Rule 7:

Visit all the novelty gas stations/grocery stores/fast food joints you don’t get to in your shitty overbearing town of Albany, like Wegmans, WAWA, Wegmans, Sonic, Wegmans, White Castle, Chil-Fil-A, Wegmans, IKEA, and Wegmans.

Seriously, Albany, fucking Wegmans. Stop being so lame and just sell booze at the grocery stores this is ridiculous.

Rule 7a:

Something to keep in mind when traveling is that your bowels are on a fairly strict regimine. Disruption in the form of temperature change, altitude change, or even the stress of having to criticize someone else’s driving for a week can block you up for some time and that can get uncomfortable.

Definitely DO NOT get food at the above locations and pile it on top of the compounded issue.

UNLESS! You have never tried them before…

In which case, in order get the spicy chicken club sandwich with waffle fries, IKEAS Swedish Meatballs and a salmon dill wrap, McDonalds at least twice, a buffalo chorizo based egg dish for breakfast at a kick ass diner, any and all breakfast sandwiches at WAWA, seafood at the Virginia Beach shore in grilled and fried format, a gigantic bagel sandwich at a cute sandwich shop, a giant bagel schmeared with cream cheese also because YOLO, and a creamy chicken and spinach Alfredo.

But be warned, piling this internal organ layer of food together leads to the next rule.

Rule 8:

When you stop up your hotel rooms toilet, you absolutely positively need to notify your lover first. It doesn’t matter how invested in the current episode of ‘Flip it to Win it’ they are, you shut it off, look down at the ground shamefully, and then inform them that you’re going to have to be a little late to the free beverage and cheese hour at the hotel lounge because there is an inch of toilet water on the floor in the bathroom.

Then call maintenance. Priorities.

Then when maintenance arrives, say something to the effect of:

“I have no idea how that happened”

or

“Does this happen often?”

Then, because your insides didn’t suffer enough the last five days, go eat enough cheese and creamy pastas to block up someone with IBS comparable to that of Pompeii’s eruption.

Rule 9:

Because you got a great deal on Priceline from that guy from Star Trek, you are located on the 8th floor, in a private bode where silence is encouraged and loud noises are frowned upon.

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Take this opportunity to prove to the world that even though you’re not super well endowed (thanks a lot mom and dad), you can still get the job done.

I’m not saying to have the sex loud and rambunctiously while you’re on vacation, but I am saying you should at least spend some time slamming your palm against the neighbors wall while you make noises similar to the ones you’re going to hear when you visit the zoo the next day.

You’ll feel better. I promise.

And you definitely won’t cry by yourself eating leftover room service from the night before because your girlfriend “needed to hit the steam room for some alone time”.

Rule 10:

When you visit the museums your bae wanted to see, definitely opt for the audio tour. Even though they will complain afterwards about how much of a pain it was, it earns you an hour of silence while you pretend you’re listening to your tour but really are enjoying not hearing about how “tired” someone is from all the driving she has done.

Rule 11:

Other states don’t have the concept of always being hungry grasped, so you need to be aware, places like Richmond and Virginia Beach, close down their restaurants at 2 p.m. right at peak “grab a samwich somewhere to tide us over” time and then they don’t re-open until 5 when it’s dinner time.

You should definitely look like a man in front of your new girlfriend and freak out because you’re hangry and there is no where to get a god damn peice of food that isn’t from a seven eleven and you should definitely blow it out of proportion and pout because girls love that shit and when they tell you to stop being dramatic you should definitely blow that shit out of proportion and say things about how you should just break up then because obviously she doesn’t value your relationship when you can’t get a fucking sandwich after walking around all goddamn day and only eating a handful of goldfish.

(I used to have a temper problem and I’ve really been working on it at the request of my mother, and I think we can all agree looking back on rule 11 that we learned a really valuable perspective on how well we’re doing because we haven’t had an outburst like that in a while, and we are super fortunate to have a girlfriend who will at least wait until we get back home to break up with us so that we don’t lose control in a foreign state)

Rule 12:

If you do get pouty, definitely make sure when getting off your exit to go back to your relatives, that you exact revenge on the driver for calling you a princess and telling you to calm down by telling them you know where you’re going, and then saying left here, right there, for fifteen minutes before you end up in a church parking lot and then admit you have no idea where you were going and then when your girlfriend gets upset you have the upper hand and can say things like:

“Now who’s being the drama queen?”

You win.

FINALLY, Rule 13:

Make sure you tweet everything that happens. Broads love twitter. Document the trip, you’ll be better off:

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20140424-153310.jpg 20140424-153319.jpg 20140424-153327.jpg 20140424-153335.jpg 20140424-153343.jpg 20140424-153350.jpg 20140424-153407.jpg 20140424-153416.jpg 20140424-153425.jpg 20140424-153435.jpg 20140424-153443.jpg 20140424-153451.jpg 20140424-153501.jpg 20140424-153510.jpg 20140424-153517.jpg 20140424-153526.jpg 20140424-153533.jpg

 

Still taken but unsure why,

Me.

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Leggings as a Thing: a Response to Fashion Week.

Dear Dolce and Gabbana,

It’s fashion week here in the Most Things are Garbage household.

This means three things.

Number one: the repercussions from Super Bowl are the devil. All that salsa laden food covered in various cheeses and seasonings probably influenced by salt has all settled in the mid section of my body, and it is holding my waistline hostage somewhere on the tipping point of a 31 spilling over into a 32.

But cheese. Dear god the cheese.

Number two: my cat and dog are not my biggest fans. Don’t get me wrong, dressing them up is great and fashion week is all about the looks, but my dog is super comfortable when he is naked and roaming free in life, and really who the hell isn’t?! It just makes it easier for him when he decides to embarrass me in front of all the dates I bring home from the Internet as he pleasures himself at their feet while we watch Amelie on the couch.

Number three: Research!

I believe it was Spider-Man who said “With great fashion comes great responsibility.”…

…or something like that.

I mean it’s 2014 now so I feel as though fashion is unbelievably lenient now-a-days, and that there is a lot more room to be flexible.

Personally, I’m usually an all dark everything-all black everything kinda guy usually. My standard wardrobe would make the interior of Drake’s Maserati blush.

As far as dress goes though, I am not on the up and up with the latest trends or the hot styles now. It is complicated and written a long while back, but if you really want to know the progression of my fashion technique, you can read this.

Basic gist: My mom picked out my outfits until I was 24 and I made those sex-bracelets out of soda cap things to wear, and then passed them off to my parents as me being creative and not at all slutty. Also, those bracelets didn’t work and I usually ended up breaking all of my own while I played with my action figures on a nightly basis. Then I made progress somewhere after an ex-gfs insistence that I dress human, I understood how important the world of fashion truly was. There’s only so many times someone can say, ‘Stop shopping at Delia’s’ before you finally start listening.

Blah blah blah, a few years later I’m basically Tyra Banks.

So I basically understood all things fashion except one:

When the fuck did it become socially acceptable to wear leggings as pants.

Mom! You didn’t prepare me for this!! I’ve seen some horrible things!

To me saying leggings are pants, is like saying cotton swabs make a good substitute for pepperoni as a topping on pizza. No, just stop it doesn’t make sense!

I had to get to the bottom of it, this fashion phenomenon that has been sweeping the world.

Well as I generally tend to do before I believe anything I’m told, I heavily considered setting out to conduct a very detailed experimentation. I weighed the pros and cons of actually wearing a pair of leggings as pants for 24 hours, and was quite hesitant but a friends Facebook post pretty much solidified the decision for me:

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Sold.

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Luckily for me, I gave up on shame several months ago. I mean really what does in matter in the long run, grand scheme of things in life, a male wearing leggings out as pants should be considered normal right?

Well staying true to the daily experiment, I began by purchasing a 10$ pair of jeggings at target in the women’s section. It was not awkward for I had my female companion in friendship in attendance with me. I grabbed a bag of gummy worms and a copy of Bridget Jones’ Diary for checkout so there would be no misconstrued notions about what I was doing.

“Ten dollars?!? Where did you find these?” exclaimed the female cashier.

Somewhere between shirts that look like dresses and accessories I have zero idea how to utilize.

One, two, skip a few and here we are at D-Day. I made sure to wear my leggings to bed so that I awoke physically wearing them for the start of my 24 hour period.

I fixed myself a pot of coffee and a hearty plate of bacon because, well these have an elastic waistband and who the hell am I trying to impress really?

I mean with the exception of that OkCupid date at Starbucks but was there any doubt that I wouldn’t kill that?

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And so, as their time wound down as house guests, Kurt and Rachelle in all their marital bliss, invited me to join them around the Capitol Region while they ran errands.

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I figured since I was basically going to be miserable wearing basically no pants all day, I may as well take in some pre-wedding bickering to really twist the whole knife of joy lodged in the torso that is my life.

Well we made our way through several locations to collect data, as will be evident below in the results. To begin, in the car I did the only thing any reasonable person would do when conducting an experiment of this caliber:

Post about it on Facebook.
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I apologize to no one. I have done everything right up to this point.

Next, I took a ‘from where I stand‘ photo to post to the Instagram at a later date after results were concluded.

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It was eerily reminiscent of the majority of shots I tend to see on the Instagram, so I knew I was doing something correct.

Suddenly, and without warning, my 00’s pop princess mix on Spotify was interrupted by the buzz and buffering of multiple notifications. Apparently, my post on the Facebook had caused a stirring in the loins of many females, and opinions began rolling in a la the form of comments:

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I am not saying no more pants is a bad thing. I’m also not saying the female who posted this has never taken her pants off in front of me.

(She hasn’t. I got friend zoned when I was like 9 for saying the word ‘vagina’ in front of her on the summer camp bus. Boys are gross.)

What I am saying, is that females rushing to the defense of their sacred skin-tites was not enough to convince me!

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Well you know women…20140210-155346.jpg

So of course there were many more opinions to be given:

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Obviously by this point I was welcoming any and all opinions because I knew in the long run half the research would be done for me. Part of the plan all along.

There were funny opinions:

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There were honest and sincere opinions:

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There was sassy-ness:

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There was classic disagreement amongst the female species:

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Obviously there would be no final group consensus as we all know that females can never just agree on something.

I knew that the fate of leggings as pants lay I’m the hands of me, and I had to get straight to business.

Below are my findings:

Daily itinerary by location:
Big Lots
The family Dollar
Michaels Craft Store
Starbucks (OkCupid first date)
Home

Variables:

Constant– me, my beauty, my ass, my sass, hair.

Changing– butt uncovered 50% of the time at each location, customer type in store.

Reasoning and rules:

1. The golden rule.

Leggings being worn as pants is applicable first and foremost ONLY if the booty is covered. It is scientifically proven, and therefore is the first regulation to this process. See scientific findings below:

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Booties are meant to be poppin, but not in leggings ladies. Covering your bottom makes all the difference out in public.

See:

Hot:

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Not:

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2. Present yourself well!!! 

Choose your outfit carefully. Whatever the fuck tunics are, they are apparently closely associated with the legging ensemble. I chose a tank top under an oversized sweater. It was sensible and not too ragged. It requires a certain chutzpah to pull it off in public, and while you may feel comfortable, the attitude makes all the difference between:

‘Look I’m lazy am I doing the shopping right oh god what is my life I miss my cats time to go home’

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And…

‘Look I’m basically Beyoncé you’re just frontin’, I AM Sasha Feirce and yuh jealous’

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3. Know what to expect.

There is a very good chance you are going to get some looks. Am I right or am I right ladies? You have to be aware of your surroundings, and science proves that with certain places come certain levels of judgment. In reality, we all know the real judgment free zone is not planet fitness, but Walmart.

Below are the findings from my day:
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If you notice, places you would expect to see leggings as pants (Big Lots, Family Dollar) are more judgmental than those places you are expected to be creative and different (Michaels, home). This is because your brain loses the ability to give a shit how you look when you go to locations you fully expect to see a lazy ensemble.

4. There is a direct correlation between pockets/zippers and comfort: 20140218-090744.jpg

Where sweatpants are basically the closest thing to allowing your bottom parts to feel more free than my refills at Starbucks, jeans can be binding and constrictive. Leggings comfort level becomes clear when put in these terms.

5. Say no to UGGS.

Look I’m not saying UGGS look stupid with leggings, I’m saying UGGS look stupid. You need to own this look, and frankly everyone looks foolish in UGGS.

Be a boss, sneakers for the win kiddos:

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Final verdict:

LEGGINGS ARE COMFY AS FUCKKKKKKK!!!

Here’s the bottom line though. If you love your body and you’re comfortable, who gives a shit what you’re wearing.

Odds are you’ll end up reclined in front of Netflix anyway.

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Honestly, with the amount of criticism put on body types and choice of dress nowadays, I personally vote for the whole if you like it, wear it at this point.

Science agrees:

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Just do you, learn to love the skin you’re in, and you’ll be fine.

And take lots of selfies…always…

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Bless this mess,
Alex.

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A ‘Dear Justin’ Letter : On behalf of the World.

Dear Justin,

Hey man.

Yeah yeah, I know I know. I’m great. Stahhp it.

But listen, I wanted to reach out because I feel like you need some support. It seems like you have hit that awkward teen stage in life where you lose all sense of your pre-pubescent roots, and now your grasping for friendly hands as you drown in your own errors.

Like many teen starlets who started out at a young age, you’re traveling down a very dangerous road and the world is watching as you’re on your way to becoming yesterday’s garbage-y news.

I need you to understand, you’re not the same person you used to be, and I’m not sure what happened between you and Usher but first thing is first, you gotta get that man back in your corner.

That Scooter guy you have walking around with you is clearly not doing his job. Look, do you remember when you first started out?

You had so much promise. You had your very indelible vocal abilities and your hair was everything girls wanted atop their boyfriends head when they met up with them after first period in senior hallway.

You were young, blossoming and about to embark on the world of fame, but you got thrust into it way to hard. Touring must be difficult for such an attractive guy, and I feel you on that front, what with the bags under your eyes and then trying to maintain such juvenile and boyish looks.

We are basically in the same boat there buddy.

Take a look at your earlier work though…

In ‘Bigger’ on your debut album, you spoke about how the haterz look small to you because you are bigger than they are, and your love was bigger than them.

Your maturity was flourishing. It was almost like an adult had written that song and you performed it…

…which we know isn’t the case since the music industry is filled with people who write their own music and don’t sell out to larger record labels to only put out glittery shit-storms of poppy goodness.

I mean you had lyrical genius back then! Remember ‘One Time’? It’s probably been a while since you sang it live but you showed off your basic math skills to us repeating ‘you plus me’ over and over…

To tell a girl that her world is your world, and that your heart is her heart?! That’s some shit people usually save for marriage.

Biebs, even I don’t have that lesson figured out.

Then you dropped some gems like ‘One Less Lonely Girl’ which assisted in building, and populating your fan base. Honestly if having young girls following you around and exploiting the fact that they all believe every word you speak is meant for them is wrong, then I wouldn’t want to be right.

Even ‘Baby’, oh dear god, I think even I looked at you with a glimmer in my eye.

It was a masterpiece, and your dance skills finally came to the surface in the magic video. You even got Luda on the track!

LUDA!

And lest we forget Selena!

You landed the most age appropriate and gorgeous teen star that hadn’t become a meth-addicted cat lady yet. Have you SEEN her lately!? She is fine as hell! And you gave that up?!

She could have like, anyone in the universe, and you took a pass on it after a year or so of dating?!

She’s doing great for herself too! ‘Come and Get it’ was like a summer anthem for me thanks to an overly obsessed ex that insisted it was the only thing we listened to while we were making out.

Do you know who the world has seen you running around with since the break up?!

Jaden Smith.

Not even the cool one, Willow!

He told kids they should drop out of school Justin! What kind of example is that to set when a revolution is in your hands? (Side note: if y’all are still close, give him a swift kick in the nuts for the travesty that was the ‘Karate Kid’ remake)

Look something went terribly wrong man, and I know what happened.

You cut your fucking hair.

No but really, hear me out!

That was all it took, and then you began your spiral. From my point of view, here is what I saw happen:

You started REALLY young and you were good at what you did, and then puberty hit, you styled your hair differently and you gained the classic child star confidence that my exes all seem to gain after they leave me.

Nothing phases you and you’re out to prove to the world that you’re the best there is.

Your balls dropped and there was a legitimate crisis in the universe about whether or not you were going to be able to pull things off with a deeper voice. And you did! But then you got some tats.

Justin, tattoos are in fact cool, and they should be really meaningful too. But like, look at some of the things you’ve permanently put on your body…

What do they mean Justin? And why would you get a king jerking off in front of a castle? That doesn’t even make sense…

Then you started becoming this angry ball of fire that I just didn’t know anymore. Do you remember the time you threatened the paparazzi in your car?

You used the f-word.

I lost some respect for you that day man.

And from what I gather so did Selena, because before we knew it the two of you had separated and she was back on the market. I’m sorry I sent her so many letters pleading with her to love me and telling her I would treat her right, I just got caught up in the moment.

We’re still cool right?

Then you stopped wearing the purple and black combo, the largest error in my opinion. You switched to wearing all these really dumb ridiculous clothes that don’t even make sense to look at.

Sometimes you just didn’t wear clothes.

Then your new album drops and it is just filled with poop Justin. Your voice is so good and you are doing songs with Nicki Minaj?! That’s like Justin Timberlake doing a duet with Taylor Swift.

It’s poop Justin. You have to utilize your powerful voice again, you can’t just go around singing about heartbreak from a relationship you yourself ended.

And you tried to come up with a catch phrase but it didn’t even pan out for you! WTF is ‘Swaggy’ Justin?!

Lil Jon had ‘Yeah’ and ‘Okay’.

DMX just used to growl and bark at his listeners.

…but even so they both worked out for them.

‘Swaggy’ sounds like a combination of sweaty and saggy and neither of those are words people want to think about when listening to your performances.

Try harder Justin.

Then you started getting in trouble with the law and all hell broke loose. You were speeding around residential neighborhoods, putting children’s lives at risk, and pissing off your neighbors.

Justin do you know how to be a neighbor? I live next to a sassy elderly woman who gives me vegetables from her garden to make soup. The other side is a house filled with teenage drug dealers, but they leave me alone and only contact me to notify me that there is a chicken loose in my back yard and they are dispatching search and rescue teams.

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They’re not jerks though. They’re nice people. It’s something you need to work on.

But recently you’ve become a monster. DUI? Drugs?

Your drinking the syzzurp Justin?

Do you know who drinks the syzzurp Justin…?

…Lil’ Wayne…

Do you know who takes him seriously Justin?

Nobody.

Nobody takes Lil’ Wayne seriously.

Everything you’re doing is super negligent and irresponsible. I even read that you called a young fan a ‘beached whale’. Have you seen ‘Blackfish’?! Whales have enough problems to deal with, without having to worry about you using their name to cut a young girl down and make her feel like garbage.

You’ve become hardened Justin, and today I read that you were arrested in Toronto for an assault on a limo driver.

What did he do Justin?

Did he make a wrong turn?
Did you arrive late to an event you were going to bitch about being noticed at anyway?
Did he not chill the bottle of Crystal you aren’t even legally able to drink yet?

…did he call you out on your bullshit?

I’m not a hater JB, but right now you need some tough love.

What you need is a game plan to get back to where you were a few years ago. Here’s what I’ve come up with for you:

1. Deal with all your legal hooplah. It shouldn’t be a long or hard process, you have a lot of money, and your pretty face wouldn’t last a night in jail without getting passed around more than a football in an NFL game. No judge is going to put that tight little…

… complexion of yours in danger.

2. Let your hair grow out a little. Like, a medium length. Or shave it. You need to find out who your true friends are, and there is no better way to learn that than by fucking with one of the main reasons your famous.

3. Stop putting out songs with terrible artists.

(Not you BIG SEAN, ‘Dance A$$’ is an anthem for me)

Sean Kingston? Eenie-Meenie-Miney-Mo-Lover? Really?

Also, I’m not sure what you were thinking, but I’m pretty sure I speak for the rest of the world when I point out that collaborating on a song with Chris Brown about love and what a woman means to you kind of speaks for itself nowadays…

From now on do it on your own or only pick from this list:

Trey Songz
Ne-Yo
Ariana Grande
Jordin Sparks
Willie Nelson
Maroon 5
Outkast
Britney Spears

Remember, you want to stay relevant. I know it’s in the works but really, cancel your collab with Limp Bizkit.

Classy. As. Fuck.

4. Dress like a good person. You wanna know who is relevant in the minds located in women’s pants?

Understand?

5. Stop breaking the law.

Don’t drive like an asshole, we have enough non celebrity humans in the world to do that. Obey traffic laws, and don’t be a shit head behind the wheel.

Drugs are dumb, but weed will be legal in like two years anyway prob so can’t you just wait instead of going on blunt cruises and bong-rip road-trips?

Stop spitting on, yelling at, insulting or laying hands on…well anyone. It’s not becoming and you look like a super huge douchebag. There are a lot of normal people out here that can handle stardom better than you are so use common sense and stop being so mean all the time dude.

Finally…

6. Stop making movies about your life to stardom. If people want to see you perform they’ll buy a ticket to your show. If they want to see pre-fame Bieber, it’s on YouTube. There are so many other celebrities the world would prefer to know the history of, so pump the breaks and stick to walk on roles in like really terrible parody movies.

That’s what dying talent does nowadays.

Okay? Do you understand Justin?

Please, on behalf of the world, and your fan base alike…

Stop being shitty.

Fondly but realistically, your probably number 678 fan,

Alex

P.S. Start writing your own songs. ‘Beauty an the Beat’ is horse shit and for you to be able to party like it’s 3012, you want to party like you’re dead. Is basic math man.

Also Nicki Minaj is obnoxious. Common sense bud.

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Look Mom, I joined Tinder: A Social Experiment.

Dear World,

First and foremost I want you all to know that I never intended for the tattoo I got to cover most of my lower back, I was specific in my description to the artist and he took some liberties with size and shape. I promise it’s not as bad as it sounds, and please don’t listen to any of the haterz that might tell you it is a ‘tramp stamp’.

That implies I’m easy and we all know how selective I am in who I let take advantage of me.

Listen, we all hit that lull in life. I don’t want any of you to feel down about yourselves when you get there. It’s a point when you have crucial decisions to make about life. Its a point where you need to weigh your post degree options for employment. It’s a point when you’re on your own and everyone tells you it’s time to truly discover who you are as a person which is horseshit, they just can’t say sucks you’re single again without sounding abrasive and mightier than thou.

You will eventually get back up on the horse you rode into the world on and you will become the best person you have ever been.

I’m guessing of course…I’m not really in control of the world. You may end up being a blob who lays in front of their HULU plus account all day that slings meth for a living to desperate ladies of the night willing to go above and beyond for that next fix.

Either way, I have read that the key to success is to make life what you want it to be. I believe it was the night janitor of my office building who once said:

“Would you like me to get rid of the garbage?”

And yes. Yes, I genuinely would like the garbage from life removed. Such a wise man to speak such prophetic questions!

But where do I start?!

By meeting new people of course! No, not out at the bars silly! We don’t do that! I’m speaking of course, of the only logical place to meet anyone these days…

…the Internet.

Now pay close attention Mom and Dad, fellow readers, I’m talking about legitimate social sites! I wont be flying cross country or anything to meet someone who has four shared interests with me according to their profile blurb, because that would just be crazy and honestly no matter how much they promise it will be action packed and exactly like that movie ‘Taken’, I am really seeking something low key.

I’m going local, and I’m being smart about it! I won’t go outside a fifteen mile radius, and that’s my final offer here for these new people, and frankly it seems like a good way to limit the plethora of individual I will undoubtedly rope in with my honest to goodness ‘about me’ details.

I signed myself up on three websites to meet people initially because my friend Foo, the Asian one who isn’t really named Foo but absolutely lives up to every single Asian stereotype…

…well he told me they were not useful, full of robots and girls that stand you up at the movies, and quite possibly the biggest waste of time in the universe…and I really thought that it would be a good morale booster based on that description.

Really though, people go about it all wrong. Humanity doesn’t understand the way the masses respond nowadays. They don’t genuinely want to know who you are, or what you’re into when your not helping your cat clean itself at night during a riveting episode of American Idol.

Foo, and world, take note. I have perfected the craft. These are my legitimate profiles:

Tinder:

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Now this site, from what I understand is basically a dating site that comes with the connotation that you want to make the sex with a mutually interested sex maker. Like getting coffee but with your genitalia if you will!

The part that is interesting/unbelievably uncomfortable about this app, aside from possibly getting plugged by a complete stranger, is that you show your mutual sex interest in the most shallow way possible. Here’s how it works:

Step 1: User picture pops up.

Step 2: Judge the absolute and utter fuck out of this probably genuine human being solely on how they look.

Are they unbelievably attractive?

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Absolutely!

Swipe them to the right! You want to bone them. Be proud.

Do they appear as though they may have been hit by a truck/be missing an appendage/actually be a psychotic axe murderer hell bent on revenge because their ex left them for someone much fitter and muscular than you and all you can do is sob about it night after night?

Swipe that shit to the left.

You’re not interested.

They can make the sex without you.

The nice part about this app is that until the other person shows interest in you as well…you’ll never see/hear from them ever again! But if you mutually swipe eachother to the right…it sets you up to start messaging them things about you. Like how ham gives you really bad gas. Or how Michael Jackson may be your illigitamate love father, but you’ll never see a dime of his money because the other four brothers are selfish.

Anyway you’re allowed to type an about me, but it is limited to a certain amount of characters, kind of like using the Twitter, so I knew if I had any chance at convincing anyone to swipe me right, I absolutely had to come across irresistible.

20140123-091026.jpgNailed it.

OkCupid:

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So this site is fun! While it can be used completely for free, the creators want to limit you to minimal interactions with your new cohorts. But for a small fee you can beef up your profile and even find out when and where and how often people are re-reading your bio to gain insight into who you really truly are, and making it easier to meet up/slip something in your drink/make you their living Barbie doll tied up in their basement. It’s like prostitution but amongst new friends if you pay, so I picked the free route. It has absolutely nothing to do with me being a cheap bastard.

First they suggest you pick a really nice user picture, not because society is shallow and stuff and ready to nix you at the drop of a hat because you look like Rita the Elephant Woman or Bobby the King of Facial Acne, but because when people read your deets they’re gonna want a face to go with all those little fun facts about you. I chose that squinty one from above again, because why alter perfection, right?

By the way Mom, how proud are you that you and Dad made the sex and that was the result?

(Oh, I wonder if I should add date of conception to my bio? TBD…)

Awesome! We’re on our way here! Readers, are you paying attention? This is were it becomes crucial!

Filling out your info:

Now we want to be honest and not at all misleading here, yet at the same time, we need to make ourselves look attractive and appealing as fuck using only our words. Here’s my about me:

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Awesome!

The new people that look at us are going to appreciate our honestly and that is what people value most nowadays.

NEXT! We have to talk about things we are good at. Take a moment and reflect on all the things you do in life.

Are you actually good at anything?

Yes?

Put that shit down. And be super specific, people fucking appreciate specificity.

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I don’t want to be boastful, but at this point we should really clear our schedules for the next couple of months because we’re going to have zero free time with all the babes and buddies rolling in now.

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Wait! Stop it!

What the hell was that Alex?! That was TOO honest.

No girl is going to read that list and think to themselves, ‘Man I sure am glad this guy was honest. He seems like straight up husband material, what with the O.C. being his favorite show…snatch him up now!’

Quick! Recover with something clever…maybe even a lie…just make yourself look good before you lose their attention.

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Phew!

That was close. Just stick with that mentality for the rest of these forms.

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Superb job!

Your favorite food is a vegetable which will draw in only people fit and unbelievably in shape like your sculpted self. Also, decent call with the mosh pit portion, nothing says masculine like bumping into sweaty teenage boys just to feel something comparable to your cold soul dying inside that shell you call a body.

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Perfection!

More honesty and a pop culture reference?! Maybe you should open a business writing people’s profiles! It’s amazing you’ve been seeking that special someone instead of already being tied down!

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GUYS!

Are you still paying attention? Do you see what I did there?

I took pity, and passive aggressiveness and mashed them together to create one ass-amount of appeal and reason for everyone to reach out to me.

And finally…make sure you alert everyone of your political standings! But do it subtly!

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That’s right brah…pro choice 4 lyfe.

Plenty of Fish (POF):

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Readers, this one is super useful. You basically just answer a bunch of questions about yourself and fill out a few quick blurbs and it starts matching your personality with people and it lets you know who you’re compatible with. It’s easy and you are going to meet the one you’ve been waiting for your entire life…your perfect life mate.

Let’s get down to business!

Start with a bio. Try to make it a little different from your other ones…but keep a common thread or two in their in case you bump into the same people from other sites! How faux pas!

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Solid choices.

You see? We left a little bit more mystery here, but allowed the reader to pursue more if they deem us socially acceptable and pretty enough to be seen with in public.

Same squinty faced picture.

Stop trying to change me world.

Now the big question. First dates. Woof.
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More specificity, interest in “Girl Power”, honesty. Safe to say we officially got this down. Let’s try not to blow it on the interests section.

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Straight up readers, if you made it this far and proofed that entire list with nothing but head nods and sure utter agreement, then there is nothing more you can learn from me. There is just one thing left to do before you try to ‘lure’ in some potential interests…

The tag line.

Everyone will see this when you view their profiles/stalk them/vote them at a five star rating because they look like they’re in shape but they have really just figured out the perfect shirt to make their man-boobs look like pecks. It’s important to get your point across in this one sentence and make sure everyone knows you are taking this whole thing really seriously. Here’s a few of my personal favorites from people this website tells me I’m a perfect match for:

20140123-145219.jpgI am absolutely in agreement with this.

No wonder we matched up girl.

20140123-145232.jpgWhy at the library? I barely read.

She’ll never buy it girl.

20140123-145242.jpgObviously. Who the fuck doesn’t?

As long as you’re talking about ‘Goodburger’ that is.

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I’m not even sure what this means.

I am genuinely concerned with getting this thing stick though.

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Yo. We haven’t even met yet.

I’m starting to think you might be super needy if you give up that easy.

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I mean…

…like a second head? On one shoulder?

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Legally? No.

Also, you really shouldn’t be doing the whole online dating thing while you drive.

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Online? On a dating site?

I found you?

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Yeah…there is no way you and I could have matched up.

Amateurs.

Don’t worry guys, after all this prodding into my personal life while setting these accounts up, I know exactly what to put to make sure people take a gander:

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So friends, Mom and Dad, and anyone else who just killed fifteen minutes reading this, I’ll make sure I keep you updated with posts about the interesting people I meet. My hopes are high, and I’m in good spirit about this…

…but Foo is probably right. It’s probably not gonna work.

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