Aborshun

“I don’t agree with abortion, but then again, I have a penis and think I should probably stay out of it.”
— Dennis Miller

Texas city council unanimously votes to ban abortions

My needs are simple, but very specific.

One of my dating matches asked about my “guilty pleasure” entertainment choices, and aside from “I never feel guilty about pleasure,” which just sounds filthy in a way I’m not yet going for… I dunno, I’m pretty open about the lame shit I like. I’m not trying to make a guy go to a Pistol Annies show with me, or watch “Jane the Virgin,” or go see “Legally Blonde: the Musical” the 47 more times I’M totally gonna go see it before it leaves Philly. I don’t need you for that.

I mean, I AM gonna need you to like John Mulaney so I know you’re not a goddamn soulless monster, but I don’t feel guilty about that at all. A lady has to have standards, sir.

Also, make sure there’s a good prize inside.

Amanda Seales on dating:

“I’m a grown-up woman. I’m lookin’ at every dick like the side of a cereal box — I wanna know your nutritional value. Are you exceeding my daily recommended dose of fuckboi?”

If you haven’t watched this, you should.

Gimme

Friday night I signed up for Bumble. Late Saturday night I sent messages to eight entire men. Today I’m staring at the phone waiting for the guy who looks like a more reserved Pete Holmes to write me back, because damn, dude, HIGH TIDE.

(If you haven’t heard the Holmes bit, the high tide is in my pants.) 🌊

That’d be the WORST gingerbread cookie…

In a list of his favorite comedians, a man on Match writes, “Louis CK (don’t care).”

Oh, OK, cool, thanks for saving me time thinking you might NOT be garbage.

My profile says something like, “I used to love Louis CK but now I can only see him as a creepy ginger jerking off.”

Today’s installment of “I’m going to hell…”

Tonight in therapy: “It’s bad enough my favorite comedians are being outed as molest-y weirdos, but it’s also really fucking up my Spotify lists.”

Profane in the membrane

My parents give me grief about being “educated” but using profanity, asking if that’s “the best I can do,” and “can’t I find a better way to express myself.”

Well, first off, fuck you.

But also? I’m a writer/editor, like, for money, so accurate use of language is kinda my thing. And there is no more accurate language for the world we’re currently inhabiting than a constant blue streak of every swear word I know, and likely some I don’t. I’m grateful I found Archer, because I don’t know how people CAN express their feelings effectively without saying things like “son of a shit-snackin’ whore.” SO glad I learned that one!

Plus, I’m sorry, WHO let me have the George Carlin and Denis Leary albums at age 12? Pfft. This is on y’all.

The Bold and the Oblivious

It’s an almost impressively bold choice to be a man seeking a woman on a dating site and still list Bill Cosby among the favorite comedians in your profile.

Gingers, Facebook, orgasm denial, and poor life choices

Dear Facebook,

No, “That Guy” and “Unfunny Ginger Comedian” are NOT among the “people I may know” on your site. They ARE among the “people I’ve slept with.” Maybe start a separate suggestion list? But hey, thanks for making me consider all THAT again in the span of 5 minutes.

At least That Guy and I COULD have been friends if things hadn’t gone all stupid. But “learning experience” be damned, the comedian was just an almost impressively bad life choice. The only memorable things about that “relationship” were learning:

A. That it’s possible for a man to appear bored while I’m naked and riding him. (I HOPE I can chalk that up to his seemingly rampant control issues, but maybe I’m just bad at being on top.)

B. About orgasm denial via his goddamn Jedi mastery of the Hitachi Magic Wand.*

No, really. Thanks a pantload, Facebook.

No love,
Smug

* I have no idea what kind of dark sorcery y’all summon to determine when we’re on the verge of orgasm, but damn. I salute you. You’re doing God’s work. 

Using your phone as a…phone?!

Quotable Gary Gulman:

“To me, the phone is just this seldom-used app on my phone. And if you use it on me, I am fucking furious. How dare you? You call me unprovoked, out of the blue?

“Text me first to see if I’m even accepting phone calls today! And I will text you back with a window.

“It’s crazy that we even call the iPhone a phone. Calling it a phone is like calling a Lexus a cupholder.”