Priorititties. (See what I did there?)

Reasons I’ve Clicked “Pass” on OKCupid Profiles: General Profile Infractions, Part 3

— He looks like he’d be Guitar Guy at parties.
— He talks shit on his exes in his profile.
— He has a photo of him and his ex in his profile. He acknowledges it’s poor form, but did it so all us lesser females can “see the type of woman I generally go for.” Because the detailed verbal description of your ex wasn’t enough.
— He’s in an open relationship. Sorry, no. I’ve already wasted too much time playing Lewinsky with a guy who placed me second. (Or, let’s be honest, like 50th — as priorities go, I seemed to rate above laundry, but below watching “The Last Action Hero” edited for time and content on TV.)
— Among the things he can’t do without: “Titties.” GOD, I hate that word. (Damn shame, too, because that’s my best feature. Sucks to be you, sir — should’ve been a little more tactful.)

In theory, I see that she does, in fact, belong with me.

Discussing music with a friend:

“I’m STUNNED I’m not into Taylor Swift. Like… I’m glad she’s around. She seems like a lovely young lady, good role model, plays instruments (I think), talented, uses exes’ missteps to advance her craft — I support all these things. I just can’t make that leap.”


Yes, clearly, the way to get me back into your bed is to hit on me via my personal Facebook where MY DAD can witness your “game.”

Aren’t you proud, Daddy? He likes my rack! He called it “sexy” for you and all my former coworkers and college professors to see!

It’s perhaps egotistical of me to think that’s why he said it. But I can’t see any other reason to use “sexy” in a public forum, one in which you’ve seen me keep it clean for YEARS, and seen me interact with my family. Especially if that obviously wasn’t what I was going for; especially since the photo I’d posted didn’t show a damn thing for you to call sexy (I purposely cropped my cleavage because I’m a freak); and especially since WE BROKE UP. You don’t have “sexy” rights anymore — you don’t use that word with friends, and this is neither the time nor the place.


In which I propose a National Dick Day.

Bitchy texting with a friend about an ex’s Facebook posts about his backyard garden:

Me: “I like gardening, and I love tomatoes and all their cognates. How is he making tomatoes so boring?”

Friend: “Because he’s the kind of man that would take a dick day to sit in the house all day watching Pawn Stars instead of fucking, going out to eat, going for a walk, going to a museum, cooking with you, playing naked Twister, taking turns reading dirty Internet fan fiction, or ANYTHING more interesting.”

Me: “Fair. Also, I know what you meant, but how great would a ‘dick day’ be?”

Friend: “Well, technically it should have been a ‘dick day,’ he’s just dumb.”

(NB: Still better than that time a guy looked past my lingerie-clad 20-year-old body because I was standing in the way of pro wrestling on TV.)

Do you have a Tamagotchi, too?

PSA: If we “broke up,” you don’t get to text me dumbass LOL cat pics anymore. They weren’t funny when we were sleeping together, so I’m sure as hell not sending you a perfunctory “LOL” if I’m not getting an orgasm or 12 out of it.

Also? LOL cats are srsly 2000 and LATE, and that’s coming from someone who just said “srsly 2000 and LATE.”