Monthly Archives: June 2013

To My Family: Stop Inviting Me to Annoying Parties

Nothing grinds my gears more than receiving an obligatory “invitation” from an extended family member to a party SMACK DAB in the MIDDLE of a Saturday or Sunday. Like, hello? It’s my weekend, people. Leave me be.

No I do not care to go to a 2 year old birthday party. He/she won’t remember, anyways. Not to mention the fact that I NEVER SIGNED UP FOR THIS SHIT. I’m a 25 year-old young profesh. I am unmarried and I like to go out and get fucked up every weekend. I can’t even keep my plants alive, goddamn it. NOTHING about my lifestyle even MILDLY suggests that this is my “thing.”

So, fucking calm down and stop inviting me.

Capture

You’re lucky that I show up (severely hung-over) to your baby showers. Or wedding showers. Or eighth grade grad parties. After your first kid, DON’T expect a shower. After you’ve gotten married once, DON’T expect a lavish second wedding. It’s rude and you’re taking advantage of me. Also, if your kid is under, like 12 years of age and is not my niece/nephew/child, WHY ARE YOU INVITING ME?

Like, seriously?

All I have to say is that when my time comes, FUCK all of you. When I get married, I will choose the MOST ANNOYING and inconvenient date to celebrate as my GIANT GRANITE SLAB of KARMA I’m throwing back to ALL OF YOU. Memorial Day weekend? Labor Day? Columbus Day weekend? No, not annoying enough.

I’m going to get married ON THE FOURTH OF JULY. I will renew my vows six months later on CHRISTMAS MORNING. No, actually, BETTER YET- I’m going to get married at 9AM on January 1st- the day of the nation-wide hangover. I am inviting your kids. I will not serve you alcohol.

Because, goddamn it, I am sick of your annoying, inconvenient and presumptuous obligatory invitations to parties for the stupid annoying milestones your kids cross.

Oh, and once I have kids, expect an invitation to an “I’m Potty Trained” party, or a “First Day of First Grade” party. Maybe I’ll even have a “It’s My Half Birthday” party EVERY YEAR in addition to their regular party because I AM SO ANNOYED. Ugh.

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Family, Uncategorized

What to Say Back to Common Douchey Backhanded Compliments

Don’t you hate it when someone shits on your life but masks it by pretending they’re actually saying something nice? Yeah, me too.

I’ve decided to compile a list of common backhanded compliments, followed by some of my favorite witty asshole responses I plan on using for the rest of my life or until I think of something even shittier to say.

Oh and by the way, these “compliments” were actually said to me before. Which sucks, because at the time I didn’t think quickly enough to insult them back, so I wish I could have a do-over.

 

“You’re so cute, why are you single?”
My answer: Cuz I’m psycho, obviously. Thanks.
How is this offensive? This one pisses me off because what makes you think I don’t LOVE being single? Like I’m the kind of person who likes to deal with feelings and compromise? Right.

HAHHAHA

 

“I love your dress. It looks so comfy!”
My answer: Oh yeah, OK, I get what you’re doing here. I half-assed my appearance today because I’ve been fighting back this Jack I’ve been meaning to puke out all morning. Zero fucks given. Thanks for pointing that out.
How is this offensive? “Comfy”= homely, you bitch.

why

 

“You have such a prominent nose, are you Jewish?”
My answer: Are you being racist on purpose or are you just ignorant?
How is this offensive? The blatant stereotyping, maybe? Oh, and when I said I wasn’t, she went on to ask me if I was ROMAN. Like, really?

hahaha

 

“You’re so skinny but your ass will, like, always be huge.”
My answer: Just…. fuck you.
How is this offensive? HOW IS THIS NOT OFFENSIVE? Never talk to a woman about her ass.

hahaha

 

“This shirt’s too big on me. I thought you’d want it.”
My answer: Thanks! Cuz, you know, I don’t like the sausage-arm look like you do. I’m sure it’ll be loose on me… just how I like it.
How is this offensive? I get it… you think you’re skinnier than me and want me to know it… get over yourself.

kesh

 

“Law school suits you. You needed something to motivate you.”
My answer: Yeah, I decided to spend $35K a year to force myself to stop getting so drunk and smoking so much pot. It hasn’t worked, but at least I can mask my hot mess-ness at family holidays and cocktail parties by saying I’m striving towards a law degree.
How is this offensive? I love it when people see my tagged photos on Facebook and assume I’m perma-bombed. YA’LL DON’T KNOW ME. Work hard, play hard.

hahaha

1 Comment

Filed under Awkward

J-Man = Jack Daniels

So, one day, I decided to go to a psychic. I think I was feeling crazy about dumb shit going on in my life, whatever, I’d do it again.

I remember the psychic sucked and clearly was pulling shit out of her ass, but she told me that I would meet a man who’s name begins with a “J” and he will be my soul mate and we will ride happily off into the sunset like a magical prince and princess team. She told me two other specific things: I haven’t met him before and we’d meet at a holiday party.

Screen shot 2013-06-05 at 11.16.23 PM

Whatever, lady.

I was fascinated by this, despite the fact that there are like a BAJILLION “J” names, right? Jason, Justin, John, Jacob, Jafar, Jesus, Jose… etc. Does she think I’m completely desperate? Whatever, this game is fun.

So I’m not sorry to admit that I kind of fell for it. The holidays were only a month or so away, so I wanted to test this thing out. I was intrigued. My friends and I pegged him “J-Man” and we started acting really creepy over the possibilities.

Possible J- Man #1: Jacob
Does his name begin with a J? Yes
Had I met him before? No
Were we at a holiday party? No
This guy looked somewhat promising. Some friends and I were vacationing in VT for a long weekend. This guy was a friend of a friend I never met before. He wore flannel. He had a scruff beard. I was about to see him as a possibility, until some desperate biddy got all up in his chain and started hitting on him. I think her name was Amanda and she did the flirt-girl laugh. Not J-man. Or, maybe he was her J-man for the night.

hahahaha

Possible J-Man #2: John
Does his name begin with a J? Yes
Had I met him before? No
Were we at a holiday party? No
Another friend of a friend. Bitched to him about another guy. What’s wrong with me?

Possible J-Man #3: Sean
Does his name begin with a J? No
Had I met him before? Yes
Were we at a holiday party? No
This guy was a former co-worker and his name did NOT start with a J. OBVIOUSLY a no-go. Got the friend vibe. Whatever, this story’s boring.

muahhaha

Possible J-Man #4: Mike
Does his name begin with a J? No
Had I met him before? Briefly one time
Were we at a holiday party? YES
Mike and I were at an ugly sweater party. I was rockin’ the Bill Cosby, Mike was rockin’ the Snowman sweater vest. I made a joke about how he was wearing a turtleneck. He told me he liked turtlenecks. I think turtlenecks are emasculating. I prefer men that wear shirts showing chest hair.

Screen shot 2013-06-05 at 11.21.10 PM

Actual J-Man: Jack Daniels
Does his name begin with a J? Yes
Had I met him before? Many times
Were we at a holiday party? Are birthdays considered holidays?
One night, right around the most stressful time in a law student’s life (finals), I went into total drunk betch phase at someone else’s birthday celebration because I suck and I’m an attention whore. I was texting all the boiz. I was buying tequila shots. I was reaching over the counter of the bar to steal those giant olives because I was drunkgry. I was yelling and bitching and being a total obnoxious mess.

It was because of J-Man, you know, Jack Daniels. Have you met him? He’s a creepy little fuck. You start your night with ONE Jackie and ginge and before you know it you’re telling the cab driver you’re going to puke and then you bring a bowl to bed so you can puke all over yourself ALL DAY until your ONLY ONE TRUE FRIEND brings you McDonalds and forces you to keep your food down.

After that brief fling with Jackie D, I called it quits with him for a long while. I ignored his seething glare in the liquor store.  I walked right by when I saw him, half-opened, by my liquor cabinet. We were on a break.

We’re on better terms now, but I still get that puke-mouth taste whenever I sip down some Jackie D.

Leave a comment

Filed under Booze, Uncategorized