As Featured on News Cult: A Torture Soundtrack

If I had to torture someone by trapping them in a room and playing music, this is the list of songs I’d play. On repeat.

1. Nickelback, “How You Remind Me”

2. The Bruno Mars Catalog in Its Entirety

3. Imagine Dragons, “Demons”

4. Creed, “With Arms Wide Open”

5. Pharrell, “Happy”

6. The Black Eyed Peas, “I Got a Feeling”

7. Literally any Maroon 5 Song

8. James Blunt, “You’re Beautiful”

9. OMI, “Cheerleader”

10. A Great Big World, “Say Something (I’m Giving Up On You)”

11. Adele, “Someone Like You”

12. Christina Perri, “Jar of Hearts”

13. Fifth Harmony, “Worth It”

14. Christina Perri, “A Thousand Years”

15. John Legend, “All of Me”

16. Christina Perri, “Human”

17. Countess Luann, “Money Can’t Buy You Class”

18. Taio Cruz, “Break Your Heart”

19. Fun, “We Are Young”

20. Michael Bolton, “Can I Touch You… There?”

Featured on News Cult:

As Featured on News Cult: Showering: Let’s Discuss

I just have a lot of thoughts and feelings about showering/bathing/hygiene and would like to talk about them. First of all, I feel like showering is just a lot more difficult than it seems. It takes a lot of effort. You have to lather and rinse your entire body from head to toe, and if you’re like me and have a rat’s nest (do rats nest?) for hair, washing the hair alone takes a Herculean amount of endurance. The tangles. Don’t get me started on the tangles.

And removing your body hair is like a whole event in itself. I still, after 26 years, have yet to master the ankle shave–no matter what, I end up leaving the shower looking like a literal blood bath. If I can even summon the willpower to shave, that is. And to get the whole leg–my god, it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. And then you have to do it all over again. And wait! You’re not done yet–don’t forget those armpits. And just when you think you’ve finished, you’re struck with the horrifying realization that you’re going to have to do it all over again the next day. Because our body hair grows like it’s being chased by one of those scary ladies in Beverly Hills whose face looks like a bad, plastic, mistake of a clown.

Once, my doctor was telling me that I should do a mindfulness exercise every day–essentially meditation. She said I should try doing this in the shower–be very deliberate in everything I’m doing, and narrate it to myself. Like, “I’m lathering the soap, I’m shampooing my hair, I’m rinsing out the conditioner,” and so on. She said that in so doing this, I would not only work on my mindfulness, but also hygiene and grooming. Ok FIRST OF ALL, rude. Second of all, I just don’t see the point in showering every day. It’s too hard, and I don’t think it’s really noticeable if I don’t. Clearly, my doctor would disagree, but what she fails to realize is that I can’t. I just can’t. Like, showering regularly is just hard work. So, really, when you think about it, it actually makes more sense not to–because why would you willingly agree to do something that is hard? Why not take the easier, more logical route and just spray yourself with so much perfume that no one notices and thank your Greek roots for giving you one positive physical trait, non-oily hair, amongst all the other unfortunate ones?

I mean, yeah, there’s something uniquely restorative about being able to cry in the shower. Your tears just mix with the water and it’s like they’re a never ending river, which is fitting because you’ll never stop crying, and your tears are the only thing you have. And sure, the shower is nice for some alone time. And let’s not forget shower beers–the best kind. But also, washing your hair too much is bad for it. Not that we care about the health of our hair or what it looks like, but anything to build our case for not showering regularly.

I’m sure you’re thinking I’m disgusting for advocating minimal showering. And I, too, do not appreciate people who obviously don’t shower. But if you can get away with it, I say God bless. If no one can tell you haven’t showered, save yourself the emotional energy and eat a Snickers instead. Or, if it is obvious you haven’t showered, maybe use that to your advantage–it’ll make people not want to be around you, and if there’s one thing we love, it’s people not being around us.

The only argument I can really think of in favor of showering is that it washes the day off you–and, most importantly, the people from your day off you. People are disgusting with their germs, and gross bodies and skin and we really just don’t want to be touched by them at all, or even remotely close to them, and to be safe we should probably burn our clothes, and clean the shower after we shower. And then take a post-shower bath in hand sanitizer. And then spritz ourselves and our surroundings with rubbing alcohol every other minute for at least three hours. But, besides that, I don’t really see how showering is worth it.

Featured on News Cult:

As Featured on News Cult: How to Deal with the Haters

As Taylor Swift has so aptly pointed out, the haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate. And who could blame them? We are pretty enviable. And since they’re an inevitable part of life, as most shitty things are, we have to learn how to deal with them. Here’s what I would recommend.

1. Use their own tactics against them

They call you a cunt? Reply with, “you’re a cunt.” They say you’re a dumb bitch? Say, “you would know.” They steal your boyfriend? Steal him back. This is a game of tennis, ladies and gentlemen, and while we may not be able to play more than 30 seconds in real life because we’d run out of breath and it’s too hard to move because literally every part of our body jiggles with every step, we can volley, metaphorically, until infinity.

2. Spit in their face

Listen, some people are just straight up douchers and their haterade is unforgivable– it doesn’t go down easy and we’re not swallowing it. In these cases, I am not opposed to hocking a loogie right in their pie hole.

3. Ignore them

Haters are attention-seekers, so the more you deprive them of attention, the crazier they’ll go. And let me tell you, there’s nothing quite so satisfying as watching a hater lose his cool and spin his wheels, all because you maintained composure. Like, sit back, relax, and enjoy the implosion–literally–find them, sit down in the folding chair you’ve brought with you, stare at them as you sip on a cocktail out of your Camelback, and revel in the glory of them spiraling into a self-destructive frenzy.

4. Destroy them

Hey, if they’re going to impose their fuckboyery onto you, then I think you’re well within your rights to take them down. Blackmail, extortion, warfare–whatever you feel is necessary. Tell their spouse they cheated, report them as a drunk driver, call Homeland Security and say you saw them making a bomb that they’ve disguised as a clock. Revenge has no limit–it’s a dish that’s best served relentless.

5. Shake it off

Again, T-Swift has all the answers.

6. Laugh

Preferably, again, in their face. We don’t have time for them and their hatred–it’s absurd that they think they can bring us down, and we laugh in the face of absurdity. You think your narrow-minded ignorance bothers us? LOL get a life and a better haircut you look like an uncircumcised penis.

7. Remind yourself of all the non-haters

Remember that there are good people in the world, as few and far between as they may be, and those are the people you want to surround yourself with. As my mom says, it’s best to leave the haters choking on the dust of a quick getaway. For added effect, I like to throw dust in their face as I run away, with the hope that they’ll actually choke. And if we’re lucky, choke and then die. #justbeinghonest #don’tpretendlikeyoudon’thopetheydietoo

8. Post warning signs

You know how people post signs on street poles, trees, public announcement corkboards, etc., when they lose their cats? Just do the same thing, except your sign will say something like: ****WARNING****[Insert Name Here] is a TERRIBLE person, whether or not they’re even a human being is up for debate, STEER CLEAR. [Insert a portrait along with a physical description of them here: e.g. “Shorter than he’ll admit, receding hair line (but plenty of hair on his back), bad breath, fat stomach that he wouldn’t be able to get away with in the same way if he were a woman, & of course a tiny dick]. Common places this person can be found: [insert their home & office addresses, favorite restaurants & bars, neighborhood hangouts, STD clinic, etc., here].

Featured on News Cult:

As Featured on News Cult: How to be Less Apologetic

I think too many of us [read: women] apologize too much. And I, for one, am tired of saying “sorry.” Sure, if I do something that’s actually wrong, I should acknowledge that. Maybe. I mean I don’t really do anything that’s wrong. God isn’t the only one who’s infallible. But I’m not talking about apologies that are warranted. I’m talking about feeling like we have to apologize for who we are. And I am NOT sorry for me. In fact, you’re all welcome. For me. For us. Because we are glorious unicorn goddesses. And we’ll ask forgiveness no more.

Banish the word “sorry” from your vocabulary. Unless you like kill someone’s mother. And then maybe reinstate it. If you’re dumb enough to admit guilt. But otherwise, every time you’re tempted to say sorry–when a creepy old man asks for your number and you don’t want to give it, or the waiter gets your order wrong, or your doctor is rushing you–instead, replace it with another word. That word could be “no,” or “fuck you,” or “I am A FIGHTER AND I WILL DESTROY YOU”–whatever. Get creative. And, if you can’t think of a replacement word, just don’t say anything at all. Break into song if you have to. “I don’t think you’re ready for this jelly…” Or prayer. “May God have mercy on this idiot’s soul because I am about to tear him a new one…” Whatever you have to do to get yourself to not apologize.

Also, consider what you’re apologizing for–when you really think about it, I bet you’ll realize that you don’t actually have anything to be sorry for. For example, I always feel like I have to apologize for asking questions, or requesting clarification, or being assertive in any situation–at work, at the dentist, over the phone with my insurance company. But what I forget is that it’s reasonable for me to ask questions and I am entitled to not relent until I am satisfied and believe that justice has come to fruition. So why should I say that I’m sorry?

I also feel like I have to apologize whenever I don’t please someone. But what I forget is that maybe people don’t need to be pleased, and it’s ok if they’re not. Like, if the Wells Fargo teller, who’s arguably one of the world’s biggest pieces of shit, doesn’t like that I’m asking a lot of questions and demanding an answer as to why he’s putting an 8 business-day hold on a perfectly good check, he can take a good look at my ass as he leans in to kiss it. Really–why should I care that he’s  annoyed that he has to do his job? Why should I care that he apparently doesn’t expect anyone, let alone a young female who smiles and laughs a lot but don’t be mistaken it’s not because she likes you or is happy, it’s just unfortunately her body’s natural reaction and she would change it so she NEVER smiled at your stupid ass ever again if she could, to actually be inquisitive about what Wells Fargo is doing with people’s money, and, furthermore, doesn’t want to deal with it when someone actually is? I don’t care, so I’m not apologizing.

People rely on the fact that people don’t like feeling intimidated, and don’t have the time and energy to stick up for themselves, so will be overly apologetic. They will prey on those very human aspects in you because it’s easy for them to. But only if you let them. If you surprise them, and yourself, and refuse to say you’re sorry for being a strong, independent, self-sufficient because she’s alone and can’t find a man woman, they won’t stand a chance. The next time customer service tries to take advantage of you or won’t return your complaint calls, rather than saying sorry when you finally get them on the phone, and you WILL get them on the phone because you can hit redial and fill their mailbox ALL day long, charge ahead with the fury of a bull in heat–that customer service rep is your china shop and you’ll be damned if you’re going to let their bitchy preciousness get in the way of you getting what’s yours. 

The next time a creepy guy asks you out which will happen because literally the only guys who lay it on you strong are the biggest losers out there, don’t say sorry because you feel like it’s rude to say no. Just say no. And if he gets butthurt, you can remind him that you’re 10,000 leagues out of his, honey, and if he ever gets it wrong in his head again that he has a shot in fiery Hell with you, you’ll not only decline, but you’ll have a little something called a can of whoopass pay him a visit until he gets it through his dense, questionably functional brain that he NEVER GETS YOU–not now, not when you’re 20 lbs heavier, not when fat, greasy pigs fly through a neon yellow sky that rains handsome, intelligent, considerate, eligible men. 

We are not sorry. We do not apologize. And if we have, we take it back. We’re taking back the night. More than just rape victims can do that, you know. Although this applies well to rape victims of course–like they should definitely not apologize. At least not for being raped. Their rapists should be the ones apologizing. So if you’re a rapist, this does not pertain to you. Or at least not to your raping. 

Featured on News Cult:

As Featured on News Cult: 5 Benefits of Smiling

I’m the last person to advocate cheerfulness. But if you think about it, smiling has some significant benefits. Here they are:

1. You’re more likely to get what you want

We will do what we have to do to get what we want. Which is mainly food. E.g. smile at the Chipotle guy? He’ll give you more than the usual teaspoon of chicken. At the Starbucks barista? He’ll up you to a venti at no charge. At the In-N-Out cashier? She’ll make your fries animal style on the house. THESE ARE THE THINGS THAT MATTER PEOPLE.

2. You may actually feel a little happier

I’m not a scientist so I don’t know for sure, but there’s something that happens in your brain chemistry to lift your mood a bit when you smile. Yes, I know what you’re thinking–the same effect can also be achieved by shooting heroin. So my argument here is not very strong. 

3. Your voice will sound less harsh

We don’t disguise our contempt for people, and our tone of voice shows it. But, again, in the interest of ourselves and getting our way, sounding nicer to people, even though on the inside we’re praying they step on a Lego, will get us farther in the unfortunate interactions we have to have with them in order to survive. Like, if our cable goes out, we might as well be dead, so if smiling while we’re on the phone with Fasa of Time Warner in Idaho by way of Bangladesh is going to get our DVR up and running–because we absolutely cannot miss an episode of Ladies of London that would be a travesty we need to be able to record it since our stupid best friend decided to be born on the day it airs and apparently we have to celebrate her birth when really get over yourself literally everyone was born it doesn’t make you special–then we will don the toothiest grin you’ve ever seen.

4. It’s usually laughter-adjacent

And laughter, second to food, is EVERYTHING.

5. Less Drama

If people are trying to start shit with you, just smile at them, and that’ll shut them right the fuck up. They can’t stir the pot if the pot is empty. If you not only don’t fuel their fire, but go one step further and counteract it by smiling, you’ll piss ALL over their parade, dousing the flames as you go. Byeeeeee to them and their Beyoncé moment #smileandwave #wecanout-pageantgirlyouanydayoftheweek

Featured on News Cult:

As Featured on News Cult: An Open Letter to All the Bitches

Dear Bitches (male and female–bitchitude knows no gender),

Why are you the way that you are? We are really not ok with it. Sure, we hate everyone and everything too, but we don’t just take it out on everyone else. Ok that’s not true but at least we manage to disguise our bitchiness as sarcasm, wit, and undeniable humor. We are bastions of cleverness, whereas you are plebeians–a waste of our precious time. Frankly, we can’t be bothered with you.

Here’s a thought: how about instead of being a bitch, you shut the fuck up? We all have problems. But that doesn’t mean we can shit on everyone around us. In fact, we have 99 problems and a bitch is one: youyou are the bitch. Don’t add to our already-difficult lives. Do you think we have time to deal with your mean comments, your backstabbing ways, and your toxic personality? Between having to figure out how the hell to do our taxes, eating literally at all times, and forcing ourselves to maintain a consistent flossing schedule (hahaha jk–but the attempt takes a lot of effort), we don’t have the mental energy to manage your shortcomings.

And that’s just it–you project your own issues and ineptitude onto us. You don’t like you, and who could blame you you’re the worst, but instead of admitting that and trying to make yourself less of a prick, you lash out at those around you. But see, you underestimate us. You think we’ll lie down and take it. And while we may do that when it comes to bad sex, we will not put up with your bullshit. Because we, too, can be bitches. And sometimes it takes a bitch to handle a bitch.

You want to be rude to us for absolutely no justifiable reason whatsoever? Be our guest–we’ll just have to annihilate you with an oral essay on why you’re a waste of space and how you most certainly wouldn’t be invited to our birthday party and oh, what was that? The sound of you dying alone in your apartment and no one finding you for a month because NO ONE CARES IF YOU LIVE OR DIE.

You want to shit talk us to our mutual friends? Go right ahead–we WILL find out because in this day and age privacy is a myth, and now that you’ve decided to make an enemy of us, we’ll make sure you never have a moment to yourself ever again. Every time you lay your head down to sleep, we’ll be there standing over you. You won’t even be able to seek solitude in the bathroom–what do you think glory holes are for? You get your heart broken and you need to cry it out on your drive home? Lo and behold–there we’ll be, right next to you at every red light, cackling with glee at your sadness. From this point on we LIVE for your low points.

You think it’s a good idea to try to humiliate us? That embarrassment is like a boomerang because it’ll be coming right back at you. We will dig up every sordid little secret you’ve ever had. We’ll tell the world how much you really weigh; how long your dick is really; what score you really got on your credit check. It’s like in Game of Thrones when Winter is Coming, except that we’re Winter, and WE’RE COMING FOR YOU.

Normally I’d say it doesn’t make sense to fight fire with fire. But make no mistake–we’ll blow this shit up. Literally–if you and your bitchiness were a fire, we would add fuel to the flame until it exploded. Fuck water. Because you know what water is? It’s salvation for you. In this scenario. Are you following me? In other words, if you’re going to bring the bitch, the gloves are off. And the brass knuckles are on. We may even throw some numchucks in there too. Or a bayonet–we don’t like to put limits on ourselves.

This could all be avoided, of course, if you weren’t bitchy in the first place. So next time you decide to put some sass in your step, remember that it probably doesn’t feel good to go down in flames. I mean I don’t know this for sure, having never been set on fire, but I would imagine–like, all logic leads to the conclusion that it would be painful. And maybe you could handle a little burn, but frankly you’re bringing a birthday candle to a flamethrower fight.


The Bitch You Shouldn’t Have Been a Bitch To

Featured on News Cult:


As Featured on News Cult: 9 Tips for Getting It Up

Welcome to our world, men. You can’t get it up? We can’t get it done. Because our bodies are delicately balanced, perfect ecosystems which require intentional effort to make it across the finish line. So I really don’t feel that bad for you. I do feel bad for us, however. Because if you can’t get it up, then we have to be in just an uncomfortable situation, which is the entirety of our existence so we really would like sex to be an escape from that day-to-day drudgery. So in the interest of us, here are some tips for how to get it up when it’s just not happening in bed. 
1. Role play 

I find it to be most effective if you pretend to be his mother.

2. Sing a song

Like the snake charmers do–maybe you just have to woo it out of hiding. Some suggestions: “Itsy Bitsy Spider” (the struggle that the spider faces will be relatable), “Every Breath You Take” (just as a gentle reminder), or “Macarena” (they’ll do anything to make it stop–it’s like when a mom’s baby is trapped under a car and she summons the strength to lift it)

3. Watch porn together

None animated GIF

Suggested categories: “Cartoon,” “Parody,” or “HD”

4. Play a game of Twister

We can all agree that that game was made to be foreplay, right?

5. Eat oysters

Off of each other’s naked bodies.

6. Talk about “feelings”

“How does it make you feel to know that you’re a failure as a man?”-OR- “I feel that you feel that I feel disappointed in you, and you’re correct.” -OR- “What is it that makes you feel that you can’t be sufficiently aroused? Because you need to put that shit on lock down this isn’t amateur hour I am not fucking around if you can’t step up your game I’m gonna go find fulfillment elsewhere meaning I’m going to seek satisfaction from someone else meaning I WON’T HESITATE TO LEAVE YOUR DYSFUNCTIONAL ASS.”

7. Have a pillow fight

Nothing like beating the shit out of each other to turn you on.

8. Recount your sexual past

Go into meticulous detail about the best sex you’ve ever had, and all the great things about your partner(s). This will create something to strive for.

9. Prank call them

Go into another room, call them (make sure you’ve blocked your number), and tell them you’ve got their mother held hostage and you’re going to kill her. They say that fear is the best motivator, right?

Featured on News Cult:

As Featured on News Cult: The Pros & Cons of Fuck Buddyism: Let’s Discuss

Fuck buddyism. Fuck buddery. Fuck buddyistics. Whatever you want to call it. The art of fucking with no attachments. No obligations, no feelings, no commitments. What do we think of this way of life? As opposed to being emotionally invested in a sexual relationship. It seems like another tricky one to figure out–but don’t worry, me and my inquisitive mind are here again to help reach no solid conclusion and waffle back and forth on the matter!

Let’s start with the benefits of being friends with benefits (another great play on words by yours truly). Sexual pleasure (theoretically), fun, companionship but still the ability to maintain independence, all without having to be too serious or committed or emotionally invested. This all sounds pretty good, right?

But there are several problems with all of that (that was short lived). First, sexual pleasure: men, you are probably getting this most, if not all, of the time when you have sex. It’s very easy, generally speaking, for men to get off, compared to women–this is just a fact of anatomy. One of the many advantages men are born with–among also not being able to get pregnant, not being able to get some STDs as easily as women, having more natural bodily strength, etc. Women got fucked (I am really killing it).

And when you consider sexual pleasure isn’t a given when it comes to casual sex, especially for women, that sort of dampens the fun aspect. Sure, you can have fun without orgasming. But it’s obviously a lot more fun if you do. I will, however, give you the companionship while still being able to maintain independence point. I LOVE being able to escape people to my own apartment and bed every night. I’m the first person to holler from the mountain top how awful human interaction is. If there was a choir, I’d preach to it. Except I’m pretty sure I would never be accepted into preacher school or whatever you have to do. Can preachers have sex? Or is that priests who can’t? But anyway, I think where we hit our biggest road block is when we come to the supposed upside of not having to be seriously committed to or invested in anyone.

I think we give ourselves too much credit when we think that we can control how emotionally invested we’ll be in someone. I really don’t think we can. I think that because sex is easier physically for men, it’s also easier for them to not put so much meaning into it. But I think that all genders have one very human thing in common: emotions. Feelings. They’re awful, but they’re real. We can’t reign them in like we’d like to. We can be in denial about that, but that doesn’t mean we’ll be successful at mastering our feelings.

I’m not saying it’s completely impossible to control our feelings. Sure, it’s possible to control how we express them. Like, I can choose not to express my anger at the inept cashier by punching her in the face. And I can choose not to show my annoyance at the screaming toddler on the plane by telling him to go fuck himself. And I can choose to not proclaim my love for the cute Trader Joe’s guy in the middle of the trail mix aisle, despite everything in me that wants to jump his bones every time I go grocery shopping.

But I can’t really control the underlying feelings. And, I firmly believe that the more we try to suppress feelings, the more they come out. Like, I could try to deny my anger at the inept cashier, but then I would just eventually explode like a volcano of suppressed rage, and then I would never be allowed back at Target, and we KNOW I have to be able to go to Target–it’s literally the only thing I do. I can also try to calm down and not let the anger rule me, but I need to let it have its moment before its moment can pass.

This is all to say that we don’t really have power over our feelings of attraction to other people. And, I’d bet that, more often than not, if we’re having sex with someone, we have some type of attraction to them–be it physical, emotional, or both. So if we can’t monitor and affect the romantic feelings we’re developing for someone, it’s going to be hard for us to maintain a purely sexual, uncomplicated relationship with them. Like, if we see them out and about, holding hands with or kissing or flirting with someone who is not us, we’ll probably get jealous, or a little hurt, or wish death upon that other person–you know, however you process your own disappointment. But we will be disappointed. I don’t care how many times you tell me or yourself that it’s just a “causal” thing, there are “no strings attached”–you can say that until the cows come home, but you’re not fooling anyone. And while I’m a huge proponent of denial–it’s really the only way to survive–I don’t think it’s sustainable.

So I say, let yourself develop feelings for people. And pursue them. And don’t cheat yourself by agreeing to just hook up, with no other aspects to the relationship. You deserve more, and there could be so much more than that. If the other person doesn’t want it, their loss, because you’d make a wonderful companion in old age–I mean, have they seen your knitting skills?? If they don’t want to do anything more than have sex, suggest that they just use their hand. Honestly–if all you’re looking for is an orgasm, cut out the middle men/women and do it yourself. #Byeeeeeeeeee #letthedoorhityouonthewayout #heylookguysIactuallycametoafirmconclusionforonce

Featured on News Cult:

As Featured on News Cult: What Your Nail Color Says About You

I feel that there are several broad categories of options for your manicure, and that which one you choose says a lot about who you are. Nail color may seem like a small thing, but let me tell you, paying attention to it can save you a lot of time and heartache. Next time you don’t know what to think of someone, take a look at their nails and then consult this guide*:

Chalky Pastel

If you’re wearing a chalky pastel–think Easter pinks, yellows, blues, purples, greens–that says you either think of yourself as, or are trying to be, an understated, conservatively coy, mysteriously cool person. You want to have a pop of color without going overboard. You’re the girl who hangs back, but the one all the boys want to dance with–an intentional wallflower. Which also means you’re kind of a two-faced, manipulative sociopath. Like, pick a lane–either go for color, and really go for it, or don’t. Don’t try to play both sides. Don’t try to convince people that you’re both a lion and a lamb. Fortunately for you, men seem to love this trait–the flaky, hard-to-read girl who wages psychological warfare unbeknownst to every one of her victims. So if you’re into being kind of a dick, this is the type of color for you.

Bold Glitter

This screams IDGAF. And I want to have fun. And I don’t care what anyone thinks. We’re talking outrageously sparkly pinks, purples, blues, blacks, greens, and so on. Someone who wears bold glitter isn’t worried about abiding by dress codes, or societal norms, or any rule, for that matter. The opposite of the chalky pastel-wearer, a bold glitter girl will be brutally honest and unforgivingly herself. Sure, it can hurt to be on the receiving end of this, but wouldn’t you rather know you’re getting into bed with a snake than to think it’s an innocent rabbit, only to be unpleasantly surprised later on, when your pants are around your ankles and it’s just not the best time to be taken off guard? I feel like that’s supposed to be a metaphor but also sort of works in reality, except the humans having sex with animals part, but hey, some people are into that, no judgment, although I don’t know that’s it’s physically possible to have sex with a snake and for that matter does anyone else ever wonder how snakes have sex with each other? So confusing.

Refined Shimmer

These are your shimmery, but not glittery, golds, silvers, mauves, deep reds and magentas, etc. If you’re donning this, you’re conservative but elegant. You’re professional and polished (no pun intended but SELF-FIVE FOR THAT ONE!). You’re probably older, or at least an old soul. You don’t want to be the life of the party, but you want to be invited. You’ll forgo the dance floor to stay seated with a glass of champagne. You like presenting yourself as very well put together, and you enjoy the finer things in life. You’re not the most exciting person, but you’re predictable and reliable, and there’s something to be said for that. Which is that you’re boring. But boring never got anyone killed, so good for you!


Ok, don’t get me started on the nudes. These are your translucent pinks, whites, clear-ish colors. Your beiges. The people who wear these are the living form of beige–they’re stuffy and pretentious. They like to think they have it together, and are a cut above the rest. They think they’re so neat, organized, composed, and that they’re endearingly gentle and calm. Like their simple, clean nail color projects their even-keeled temperament. Like they’d never get upset or lose their tempers or act in any manner other than the most polite, well-groomed, bourgeoisie way because THEY’RE JUST SO PERFECT, PRACTICALLY MADE OF PORCELAIN, REGULAR SAINTS–HELL, FOR ALL INTENTS AND PURPOSES THEY’RE ANGELS WHO COULD NEVER DO WRONG FALLEN STRAIGHT FROM FUCKING HEAVEN LITTLE GOODY TWO-SHOES MOTHERFUCKERS.


Neons are the best. Hot pink, orange, yellow, green. However, the person who wears them is not. The person sporting neon nails thinks of themselves as a hipster. And if there’s one thing we hate, it’s a hipster. The smug, self-serving attitude they all have, and their obnoxious attempt at style–like, we GET it–you think you’re God’s gift to man, and that if you wear mismatched, ill-fitting clothes, have a very specific type of thick-rimmed and/or outdated, “nerdy” glasses, and spend way too much time grooming your beard, we’ll buy that you’re a subversive, countercultural activist who doesn’t just get stoned all day and use daddy’s credit card to buy your Birkenstocks. But guess the fuck what? The problem with duplicity is that its charade is unsustainable. In other words: the jig is up. No one cares as much about you as you care about yourself. With that in mind, we’re taking back the neons–you shall colonize them no more. You will not ruin their beauty with your artifice any longer. Never again. As they say about the Holocaust.

Straight up red

Cherry red, apple red, hooker red–whatever you want to call it–this is your standard, plain old red. Like your red that you show to children when you’re teaching them colors. If you waste your time doing that. They should really just know. It’s instinctual.

This red is straightforward, doesn’t fuck around, gets what it wants, and will do whatever it has to do to get done what it needs to get done. Which is why, if this is your color of choice, you’re a straight up bitch. There’s no shame in that. It just means people don’t really like you, or like working with you, or want you at their Christmas parties. But honestly their loss, because who needs them, right?! Everyone is going to die alone anyways, so better to embrace that early on. Plus, more for you–of everything–because you don’t have to worry about sharing with people when you literally have no one to share with. Because no one wants to be around you. So you’re never in a position where you would be asked to share. Or where you’d have to share. Even if you’d want to share, or be inclined to–you wouldn’t have the chance to because there is nobody who even wants you to want to share with them.

*For the record, I’ve worn all of these.

Featured on News Cult: