This is the conversation that most women have with each other at bars, using only their eyes and the witchy woman bond that all chicks naturally feel: “I love and support you in everything you do, but I will drop you like a bad habit if I catch that tall dude in the sweater’s eye.”
Everybody has to be cool with this situation. It’s the most obvious tenant of (wing)womanhood. And yet – the number of basic bitches out there who are thrown into a tizzy the second they’re left alone at the bar is astonishing. Most often, those complaining were just hours earlier loudly exclaiming to a room full of people how amazing they are as wingwomen. Do not trust these ladies. They are terrified of being by themselves, even for a second.
For that matter: never trust anyone who can’t be alone. That’s not even a fully-formed person – just a bundle of weird insecurities and a strong desire to follow you to the bathroom in any social situation.
Name: Kim Rebetti & Bryan Davis
Comment: What is the proper etiquette for eating a pomegranate in front of a member of the opposite sex?
That shit’s sexy. Do it. Dig the seeds out with your hands. The juice will get everywhere.
JK it’s disgusting, your hands are probably filthy. Eat pomegranates at home, alone, when you can follow the YouTube tutorials required to do it properly. Or buy the seeds in bulk at Whole Foods and eat them daintily one by one, like an adorable little mouse, while staring deep into the eyes of anyone even moderately attractive nearby (this advice obviously applies only to dudes).
My ladies. Let’s start with the basics: not every other lady out there has the same aspirations as you. Not everyone’s biological clock is ticking. There are ladies who have no desire to get married. There are ladies with life goals that do not include monogamous relationships – and those whose goals just don’t include relationships right now.
Point is: you don’t have a right to judge them through your own set of goals. Women who have more sex with more people than you are not “sad” or “desperate” by nature. They probably don’t give a fuck about what you have to say about them, anyhow. They’re just doing whatever they feel like doing – which seems way more fun than whatever you’re losing your shit over.
I mean, really: have you ever “worried” about how many women a dude friend is sleeping with? Or is he just “dating around?” (Sidebar: dudes, these rules apply to you as well. You and I both know you have no good reason to call us sluts, no matter what you heard we did with that guy at that party that one time. Get your shit together.)
If you just don’t like a bitch, deal with it. Figure out what’s really bothering you about her, and attack that aspect of her personality when you’re shit talking her! Way more fun! Don’t attack her sexuality merely because that makes it feel easy or valid to dislike another woman. It’s none of your fucking (sex pun) business.
Be good to your fellow ladies. Cut the slutshaming out of your life, and replace it with funny stories, coffee, hair braiding and high fives. Trust.
It happened. In a moment of weakness, you opened that seemingly-normal-and-attractive person you just started dating’s iTunes library, and found something… distasteful.
Multiple playlists filled entirely with Christmas music? Completely empty, save for Phish’s entire (live) discography? A deep and abiding love of early ’00s-era rap metal?
You did this to yourself.
Now you’ll have to decide whether or not you can continue sleeping with a person who owns a Dave Matthews album.
Shouldn’t’ve peeked, dummy.
Everyone’s iTunes libraries are full of dark secrets. So mote it be. Amen. Et cetera.