The Bachelor

This week, on the Bachelor, AshLee discovers what true love is, (but still not how to spell her name), Sean is still blonde and more wine is drank in a field.  Everyone looks up to their dad still and we cry about it because that’s what you do when you’re thinking about how awesome your dad is – minus Catherine, her dad is batshit crazy but that gives us something else to cry about.    We’re all scared and in love and walking dogs and shit.  So far, so good. 

AshLee then tells her parents at dinner that she fucked Sean at the beach and the word “intention” is thrown around a lot  at the awkward after  dinner porch accosting by mom and moustache.  

Yeah, Sean.  The parents that let their daughter get married at seventeen really give a screwdriver if you propose now. 

Now moustache is making me cry because he says some legit shit and the cute ass dinner table they have set up in the park makes us all mad we weren’t foster children on The Bachelor. 

Up at bat is Catherine.  Her sisters blow but no one is worried because we all already know she won.  She’s fun and pretty and always has some story about how sad her family is and let’s be honest—that tan won’t quit.  She brings out Sean’s “silly” side and who doesn’t want to see a seven foot basket of happy being ridiculous in a fish market.

Okay, it’s official. Sisters on The Bachelor are hands down the. Worst.  These broads have been sippin the jelly juice at this trainwreck of an introduction and everyone can just back off because Catherine has the best tan and that is the end.

Can’t wait for Dez’s hometown because her brother sounds bitchier than those Hawaiin wannabe stepsisters at Catherine’s. 

 Then Lindsay comes and...who cares...

            

Poop

When asked what my next post should be about, I was told "poop" because my sister is a foul human being.  A dear friend of mine also shares the same addiction to the topic so, here it is.

Not.  I'm not writing about your fecal obsessions, nasties.

Today, I shall discuss new man candy; I name him Derp.  Derp is great for a variety of reasons but a top selling point is he puts up with the fact that I am disgusting.  All girls are in their own right, and a unique way to see if a man is worth keeping around is being up front about it.  Yeah, I'm not going to get the first impression rose, but there will be no surprises in the future -- all I can go is up!  Since an odd array of men will put up with enough antics, the bar has been raised to behavior typically not acceptable after kindergarten.  This helps weed out the lazies, mama's boys, sensitives, awkwards, etc...need not apply.  If you can handle a 'lady' when she has makeup down her face and is covered in nachos, you deserve that lady.  Apologies to Derp for being jaded into this skewed dimension sans-romance but, oh well,  unless it's a 14-year-old first dating experience, I think the jig is up.  Real men like 'em a little crazy anyway.

Party in Peace

Today, Amy Winehouse passed out...permanently.  This makes me sad.  When you model your life decisions after someone who goes to sleep 60 years too soon you have to re-evaluate and, let's be honest, people modeling their lives after Amy Winehouse have no time for that.  I guess for now I will have to tiptoe around what I thought still bordered on the socially accepted level of someone with a "thirst for adventure".  Lesson learned, Ms. Winehouse, and though it may be a bit taboo, cheers to you.  You rocked.

Social Dissolve

Did I miss the evolution of men with possible down syndrome finding it socially permissible to ask someone, that could bake their future loser spawn, for a drink?  You're....you're kidding, right? You should be providing the liver poison convincing me to tolerate your sloppy advances for an additional 45 seconds -- not asking for presents.  

Are we really about to discover the fossils of chivalry?  Is that how dead it is?  The only person that thinks you are as hot as you think you are is your mom.  Go Oedipus Rex it out because no normal girl wants to deal with your ego.

The hottest guys never know that they're hot....hence the hotness.

New Adventures of Single Me

Guess who joined eHarmony bitches.

This trick did, and to be clear, for writing purposes.

Like my ass, (and I specifically mean my ass), has any trouble seducing the scrubs this useless excuse for a match-making service provides me with.

...but whatever I guess...still an ego humping.

I haven't even provided these "gentlemen" with a picture -- deterring or enticing -- that could asterix me as soul mate material.   What donkeys.  Your prepositioned grope-fests, (because that tends to be the typical ugly date protocol for virgin-ians) will be declined until stunning Dr. Zack (28) from your commercial's materializes in my living room.  Don't see it happening.  Until them, I will continue to collect them like Pokemen.  Gotta catch'em all!

ps. My favorite is Charmandar.

ITE Research

These Boots Are Gonna Walk All Over You

I know it's (I replace he with it because I'm still not sure if "it's" human), has become a re-occuring theme as of late but I just can't seem to wrap my head around the many hats this creature wears.  Does everyone have an ex that smashes their phone to pieces to roundoff a night at a bar and then asks them to move in/pseudo-marry them the next day?  Or is it just myself and a few other disturbed individuals who are intrigued by the mentally dismantled...

Anyways, what's with all the guy emo-tweeting that's happening?  I am so turned-off by your hourly posts of vulnerability--just shut up already.  Thanks for adding to the narcissism epidemic that our generation is already suffering from.  At least my thoughts are in a blog and not clogging up your news feed taking space away from relevant things.  But then I think about it, and it just looks like everyone is so lonely.  All this access to the world and people couldn't feel more left out.  

This little lady graduated from my high school and I think her article reinforces my point pretty well.

http://abcnews.go.com/Technology/facebook-blues/story?id=12861315

That is all.

Ps.  I just checked my blog stats and should I be worried that approximately 30 people on continents that aren't North America have read my blog?  I didn't know I was going to be published internationally.  Score. 

Pps.  To these people, please don't come kill me or something.  I know a tend to be a sassy tart.

Thanks.