I don’t want to ride ANY disco sticks.

I’m starting to wonder if Facebook knows something about my vagina that I don’t.

But, point of order: No one’s vagina likes disco.

NO.

Sir Mix-a-Lot didn’t sanction this.

*blink*

 

What the fruit-scented fuck is this?

Facebook is just attacking me directly now.

*blink*

 

Why you gotta break balls, Facebook?

 

Trust me, it’s not a desire issue.

What about “blow-me”-friendly makeup?

*cough* blow me *cough*

“Gillette, the best a man can get…”

I haven’t actually seen the Gillette ad, but this amused me.

I would’ve let it keep going just for the stories, but good for her.

Hell, yeah, Target!

Take my money. Take it hard.

Via Bust magazine: This Lingerie Campaign Proves That ‘Our Bodies Are Beautiful At Every Angle’

Truth in advertising

Thoughts from the Dunkin’ Donuts drive-through: If we were honest about what America runs on, Dunkin’ would also fill prescriptions.

I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and doggonnit…

Texting a friend about therapy:

Me: “We ended up talking about why I don’t consider myself ‘beautiful.’ She showed me a fucking Dove commercial. I’m never going back. (Kidding.)”

Friend: “No one should be forced to watch a Dove commercial.”

And by the way? I don’t consider myself beautiful, and I don’t see a problem with that, so fuck right off, Dove. But I am a middle-age American woman who mostly thinks I’m cute, sometimes pretty, so I do think I’m a goddamn miracle.

Besides, “beautiful” doesn’t even crack the top 100 on my list of issues. When I think about my last pseudo-breakup, my appearance isn’t what keeps my brain spiraling. He once got hard while we were taking a walk because I made a JOKE about wearing high heels during sex — it’s easy enough to believe he found me attractive. So can we focus on this weird haze I get into where I think I’m not smart or interesting enough to keep a dude around AFTER we have sex, even as a friend? That seems to be the dominating self-esteem weirdness here.