Hash-taggin’ dat ASS

Text from a friend who’s getting married: “I’m going to try going to the gym and eating better for 100 days. #shreddingforthewedding #yep #imthatgirlnow”

Me: “Nice! OMG… If I also start working out so I don’t die of exhaustion when I finally get laid, can we make #toningfortheboning happen?”

Ladies and gentlemen, my soulmate…

First OkCupid message from a man without a profile pic: “hi i am greg lets have dinner”

OMG! Greg! Absolutely, let me accept this invitation from a faceless man! Despite the fact that if you read my profile even a little, you’d see me say I’m sure as fuck not meeting a stranger without messaging and texting until I feel comfortable doing so. Especially one without a face.

Good work, Greg. In fact, forget about dinner — let’s move in together and have 14 babies right now. Do you want, like, a scripty font on the wedding invitations? I always think those are hard to read, so I think we should probably go with something a little more simple, right? I know Times Roman is basic, but I’m SUCH a sucker for it.

And, listen, my flowers are going to be dark purple with pops of white, so make sure the accents on your tux coordinate, OK, sweetie? Luuuv youuu.

Johnnie Walker “Something Blue”

Wow. Way to target your email to my EXACT needs.

Fancy spa services for two?! Query, though: What kind of spa treatments can you give my life partner, Johnnie Walker? I mean, I’ll bring him, I just have questions.

And my “idyllic wedding venue?” So…there’s a courthouse inside your hotel? And Stephen Colbert is my officiant? And then there’s a dance floor my besties and I can tear up? And then pancakes after? Nice! Let’s do this! 


Consummating someone else’s marriage. 

Best text ever from the groom of the wedding I’m going to next month: “Just found out Groomsman Mark is newly single. You totally have my permission to drag him into a closet at the wedding. No judgment. :)”

My friends are better than your friends.

Note to self: wax all the things.

Miss Manners was never really clear on this…

I’m invited to a wedding in a few months, and I was invited with a guest.

It’s probably bad etiquette to bring a girlfriend who’ll dress me in something slutty, be my wingman, and drive me home once I get wasted enough to get naked with a groomsman in a broom closet… right?

Fine, FINE. 

I’ll go to the wedding alone, get drunk, and go home with the groomsman. #drinkresponsibly

Classing up my cleavage

Yesterday I went shopping with friends and debated buying a dress:

Me: “It’s not too low-cut? I don’t look trashy?”

Friend: “Not at all. You could wear that to a wedding.”

Me: “I DO have to go to a wedding this summer.”

Friend: “There you go. And if you see an attractive man, you could just be like, ‘Hello, I am a classy lady here to celebrate the sacred union of two lives. And also, here are my breasts.'”

Six degrees of sluttiness

Me: “I just RSVP’ed for a friend’s wedding. I need something to wear that’s church-nice but still vaguely slutty. I’m actually looking forward to shopping for this unicorn of a garment.”

Friend: “Actual slutty or YOU slutty?”

Me: “Me slutty. I can’t rock actual slutty.”

Friend: “Yes, you can! You can be that slutty and more if you just believe in yourself.”

Me: “HA! Therein lies the problem — I don’t, so I’d just be all wonky and uncomfortable. I’m good with my nunnish sluttiness.”