Dating tips, seeing as you asshole need them.

I think its only right I share my awesome knowledge on dating...


...for the dudes

1. Be a dick.

…want a lady to love you? Treat her like shit…ignore her phone calls…give her disapproving glances when she doesn’t order the salad like you had recommended…you’ll have her heart for life.

2. Shove a shit ton of meat in your mouth.

…I honestly can’t think of anything sexier.

3. Pay for her food.

…the more a lady feels like a prostitute…the more likely you and your lady friend will bone you.

4. Bring condoms.

…it says you're in charge...like, “Hey…the clap doesn't have me....I have the clap.”

5. Shake your hips excessively while walking.

…look…your lady/man/tranny friend is always going to be judging your sexually “ability” by your swagger….so just shake yo hips…problem solved.

...for the ladies:

1. Don’t be afraid to be a whore…

...We all know that classic saying…“The easy girl catches the worm…or HPV…”

2. Drink. Drink. Drinkity. Drink.

… Anything and everything in your sight. Nothing is more endearing than the sloppy drunk screaming Journey, three octaves too high while simultaneously vomiting on yourself a little bit…and while yes you may not remember anything that happened on that fateful date…your lover friend will never be able to burn that image out of his corneas.

3. Shove a crap ton of meat in your mouth.

…I honestly can’t think of anything sexier.

4. Let your lady garden grow.

…I honestly can’t think of anything sexier.

5.Lower your expectations.

…You’re not perfect, babe. Sorry to burst that bubble…but let’s get out of fantasyland and venture into a more realistic setting. This is how mediocrity works in good ol’ Merica.

shit that pisses me off/freaks me out/slightly excites me...

1. Only one garlic sauce in a Papa John's order.

...Um...are you fucking kidding me Papa?!?! I don't care what the fuck this economy is doing to your fucking profits but when I'm eating my feelings I want at least two garlic sauces to shotgun on my lonely monday mornings. Two...mother fucker.

2. Ham Soup

...ick.

3. Ironing Boards

....they are so flat and arrogant....like "ohhhh I'm soooo cool...I'll never have wrinkles...unlike your face...bitch."

4. Grown women in love with Justin Bieber

....you know that's illegal...right?

5. People who don't love Easy Cheese

...it comes in a can...it's pasturized...and it's the perfect snack to spray on your finger when you're in a bind for time...please tell me how the fuck you could hate something so fucking beautiful?!?

6. People that like Miracle Whip

....fuck off.

7. Boys that use emoticons via text/e-mail/gchat

...are you nine...or just a sexual predator? I need to know.

8.Boys who use exclamation points via text/e-mail/gchat

...I know you're not that excited to see me naked...

9.Denzel Washington

...no one's that perfect...okay?!

10. Heaven

...I'm not sure...but i think its going to be a little to "PC" for me...

I'm not a healthy person...

…I get that…and quite honestly it’s the world that’s got an issue…not me.

But come on! It is way to hard to jump on that “I want to lead a healthy lifestyle” bandwagon when you can literally buy ice cream/tacos/tiny polish sausages wrapped in torillas and topped of with bacon bits and a dollop of mayo out of a fucking wagon….and for only a buck too! Well…a $1.50 if you order extra mayo.

And I’m sorry, but any bandwagon that can spray nacho cheese directly into my mouth is the only wagon I ever want to be a part of.

Note to self: When rich enough, buy a wagon that can spray nacho cheese directly into my mouth…that or hire a midget with a Easy Cheez  spray can glued permanently to their left hand, preferably sharp cheddar…or American…I’m not too picky…well maybe rich Natalie  will be picky…we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.

…I’m still too cheap to buy a voice recorder, so I’ve been leaving myself “note to self” notes everywhere…and let me tell you they are fucking hilarious to find weeks later after scribbling them down in my half-sleep stupor.

Any who…back to being unhealthy…I’m so disgustingly gross with the shit I eat that I’m currently working on a cookbook titled, “Cooking for Poor People” –which is pretty much whatever I ate my past four years at college… and now…and probably tomorrow.

Other title options…”Mayo for the Masses”…and “Mayo: Your Favorite White Frenemy”

…I’m a product of my environment, alright...deal with it.

And how I’m not morbidly obese I have no fucking clue.

Actually that’s a lie…I do know why I’m not obese…I don’t eat any fucking carbs!

Instead…I mix honey mustard with a shit ton of mayo and use that as a fancy gourmet dipping sauce for roast beef/turkey/Vienna sausages… while reclining on my Ab-Lounge half naked and watching copious amounts of House Hunters International and ending my day with a tall refreshing glass of peanut butter.

…I can just feel George Washington Carver just beaming as I write this post…it’s like I can here him whispering sweetly into my ear…”That’s why I crushed a shit ton of peanuts…I did it for you, my skinny white princess, I did it all for you and your low carb diet.”

And for that Mr. Carver…I will forever be indebted.

I can always tell when my lifestyle drives people crazy too…as I simulatenously shove four hotdogs (without a bun) down my gullet while wearing skinny jeans… just to look up and see a gaggle of skinny white girls just glaring at me…hoping…no, begging God that my cholesterol is through the roof…or at the very least I’ll be forced to vomit those hot dogs back up at a later date and time.

But I think everyone should remember…healthy and skinny are not synonymous with one another…and I should not be punished with passive aggressive side glares from other skinny white bitches. Look, I figured out a loophole, which allows me to lose weight, while still eating the most disgustingly awesome foods ever.

And that my friends, is how America was won.

This is where I get this shit from...

These are all direct quotes/convos with my mother...this is where my shit comes from...did I say I look exactly like her too? Enjoy.

Me: Oh dear god…I never want kids.

Mom: No you’ve got to pop out at least one so you don’t get breast cancer.

“I wonder what would happen if I farted into my i-phone’s voice recognition.”

Mom: Your father and I are apart of the NPL.

Me: What the fuck is that?

Mom: National porn league.

“I’m a fan of doggy.”

“You want to know the secret to a successful marriage? Beer.”

“You better get famous, I want to walk around naked in your house in the Hamptons and walk in on you and your husband doing it… and be like ‘yeah this is awkward isn’t it’…next time knock!”

“I don’t get your generation’s fixation on giving head…just have sex.”

Me: So I think this lesbian likes me…

Mom: Alright, this is what you do…you just start talking about how you want to fuck the shit out of this dude….and get graphic.

“Are you a lesbian?”

“Birth control and a condom….and you’re still here.”

“No seriously…do you like girls?”

I am not a happy camper...

I am not a happy camper. There really is no other way to describe this situation.

Well… that’s not completely true.

The most accurate way to describe my current situation is, I’m a fucking alcoholic who got way too drunk last Monday and lost her fucking wallet with everything fucking in it AND just spent three hours in the fucking NY DMV (which is conveniently located in Harlem, might I add), to replace her fucking ID, so she could fucking drink again (in social outings that is), only to be given a temporary ID that doesn’t have a fucking photo on it!

Oh, no. No. No. No. No.

The NY DMV sends your photo ID in the mail…two weeks later. Which is cool, if you want to be a fucking douche.

And honestly I wouldn’t really care, (again, another lie, I will always care if it gets in the way of my alcoholic tendencies), if St. Patrick’s Day wasn’t 3 fucking days away!

Why? Why?!?!? Why not just give me the photo ID immediately, NY DMV? I mean come on, you already made me get up 3 hours before my normal wake-up time. And I just loved pretending like I wasn’t getting catcalled in Spanish Harlem while talking to my mother on the phone at 8:30 in the morning.

And then the waiting, oh mother of god, the fucking waiting. Three fucking hours. You took away three beautiful hours from me, NY DMV, three fucking hours on a beautiful mother fucking day, that I could have been fucking sleeping through!

If there is one thing you should know about me NY DMV, don’t fucking mess with my cat-like sleeping patterns… or my obsessive mayo consumption… or my ability to buy alcohol whenever the fuck I damn well please.

Okay, so there are at least three things you should know about me. You thoroughly fucked up two of the three. (I’ve marked my mayo jar, NY DMV; don’t even think of stealing from my stash!)

Obviously, I’m a little distraught at the moment. I think it’s from lack of sleep. (Or withdrawal symptoms?) I don’t know. Fuck it. I do know that there is one particular Department of Motor Vehicles that shall be receiving a sternly worded letter (and a bag full of shit) in the very near future.

Unless I receive my ID in the mail before St. Patrick’s day, then you guys are the bestest! The choice is yours NY DMV. 

Quickest ways to get me to automatically hate you (especially if you're a dude).

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

You win, rock bottom. You always do.

Well hello, rock bottom. We’ve got to stop meeting like this.

I can’t wait until I’m a fully functioning adult, but to be quite honest I don’t think that day is ever going to come.

I lost my wallet Monday night, because yes that is what happens when you don’t eat anything, drink at the apartment, then go out and drink more at a bar.

You will soon find yourself drunkenly stumbling to a taxi, trying not to hurl in said taxi, stumble to the apartment, hurl in the apartment, have your roommate freak out a little bit because you are not responding from the bathroom (in your defense you are hurling), hug the toilet for 5-10 minutes only to look up at your foot and think, “My big toe is gross,” then wake up in your bed fully clothed and feeling like…oh what’s the word? Shit.

In said wallet, were 3 credit cards, my VA driver’s license, my SOCIAL FUCKING SECURITY CARD…and my Costco card…I know. I know. Fuck.

And the worst part is, this is not the first time this shit has happened. I just don’t think. I bet that’s a fun thing to do…the act of thinking. I bet it feels realllllllllll good in the noggin. But I have never felt that feeling, nor will I ever.

Perfect example: Hours after waking up hung over and feeling like I had sufficiently facebook stalked enough people, I decided to get out of my bed and take a shower.

Then two things happened that I am not proud of. 1.  I almost went into the shower with my bra still on, wait let me clarify that…I almost went in with my bright fucking red bra still on, managed to remember to get the undies off…thank god. 2. I then stood in the shower for a couple minutes and literally thought out loud, “Wait, how do I shower again?”

 I went to college. I have a college degree. And yet I bring absolutely nothing to society. I will never bring anything of value to society, except to be a constant reminder that you yourself never what to be a rock-bottom bitch like myself.

I guess I should stop trying to be a better part of society and just accept my place.

There is a caste system, ladies and gentleman. And my role will always be at rock bottom.

I don't normally do this, but...

I like the chick that tagged me in this. So here we go kids!

1. Converse or Doc Martins?

Converse. Definitely converse. Is there even another answer for that question. I need to buy a new pair actually, thanks for reminding me.

2. If you were the Jeannie from I Dream of Jeannie, which celebrity hunk would be your  Major Nelson? ( Or if you prefer to pick a celeb starlet then just reverse the question)

John Hamm. Oh man. Oh man. Oh man. I would do terrible, terrible, TERRIBLE things to that beautiful hunk of man. Excuse me… I need a couple minutes to myself.

….and back! Next question!

3. YooHoo or Nesquick?

Hmmmm, honestly. I’ve never really partook in either. I’m more of a ½ a glass of skim milk + a ½ a glass of chocolate syrup, type of lady.

4. If you could be any place right now where would you be?

Honestly, I don’t want to answer this one. Too personal. You Danielle are the first person to ask me a question that I was unwilling to answer. Bravo.

5. If you could be famous for anything in the world, what would it be?

         For making people laugh.

6. What is your favorite color?

         Tie between orange and lime green.

7. Soap bar or Liquid Soap?

Liquid soap. I feel like a soap bar just takes too much effort and I think we all can safely assume I don’t really care “that” much about me to spend on the time it takes to use a fucking soap bar.

8. Television show that has ended that you wish lasted longer?

Freaks and Geeks. Only lasted one season. Fucking amazing if you’ve never seen it. Produced by Judd Apatow. Jason Segal, Seth Rogen, Martin Starr and James Franco are all main characters. COME ON! How did that not last longer than one season?

9. Blackberry or iPhone?

iPhone. My mom got hers a year before me and I’ll never forget her shoving the phone into my face and saying, “I was told you could watch porn on this. You can’t watch porn on this!” So of course I had to ask, “Why not?” Which led to my mother to say the only adequate response to such a question. “The screen is too fucking small.”

….And she was right.

….ANNNNNNNND That was also the day I realized I was exactly like my mother.

10. Are you a type A personality? 

Nope. I don’t think people think I’m being serious when I say this, but I seriously don’t put pants on until absolutely necessary. I only have bright pink undies and a superman bra on right now, and I’m not trying to be sexy or anything. I’m just too fucking lazy to put pants on. I don’t see the action of putting pants on as an adequate use of my time right now.

11. If you could put together a band of any musicians alive or dead, who would be in it?

Phil Collins, Kesha and LMFAO. But only because I want to see someone spontaneously combust, and I think this trifecta would be the perfect combo for Phil Collins bald head to just burst all over the fucking place. I love you, Phil. I really do. But I also love me seeing a person spontaneously combust. I’m so glad you understand.

I have absolutely no faith in humanity...

This is the most recent key word searches for "Awkward Sex and the City."

yeah... I think I'm going to go eat some twisted cheeto puffs and cry now.