Me: “I would like to never see or talk to [Guy’s Name] again.”

Boss [mocking precurrent-opinion-of-said-guy Me]: “He’s just so funny. He’s really funny.”

[Current] Me:OksoImisjudged! That is not uncommon for me.”

Boss [still mocking apparently]: “There’s just something special about him.”


Image result for not amused face

As Featured on News Cult: How to Deal with Getting Fired

At one point or another, you’re going to get fired. Everyone does (unless you’re balls-deep in nepotism). It’s just another shit fact of life to add to the pile. And it feels like a much bigger deal than it actually is, which is why you need some effective coping mechanisms so you can survive it. Here’s what I’ve learned about getting fired and the best way to deal with it.

Don’t take it personally

Even if it is personal. If you internalize it, you’ll shame spiral and that does no one any good. Of course, I suppose if you being fired is a result of your behavior, it could be a learning opportunity (excuse me while I choke down the vomit that the phrase “learning opportunity” induces)—but even that only goes so far before you have to move on and up. So whether or not it’s your fault, being fired is water off a duck’s back. It does not define you, it does not say some horrible truth about you, and it doesn’t have to prevent you from living your life. #rollingwiththepunchesrightthefuckoutthedoor #byeeeeee

Be cordial

While the chances are that if you’re being fired, it’s going to be a tense situation, regardless of the circumstances, try not to burn too many bridges. Whether your boss is the world’s largest prick or a nice guy who couldn’t afford to keep you on, be polite, professional, and unemotional throughout the process. If nothing else, this will up your chances of being able to get a good    reference out of them—and we’ll do anything if it benefits us, even if that means feigning politeness to someone we hope with our every waking breath gets hit by a bus, run over, and then backed over again by the bus, à la Suge Knight.

Ask for severance & a reference

If you’re not automatically offered it. The worst that can happen is they say no. Check your state labor laws to see if you’re legally entitled to severance, so that if you face resistance, you can back up your request with facts. And even if your employer isn’t bound by law to give you anything, I think it’s still worth a shot—you’ll never know until you ask. Likewise, ask if you can count on a good reference—ideally you’d get one in writing, but if nothing else, make sure you establish where you stand with your boss’ future recommendation or lack thereof so you don’t have to awkwardly reach out to them after you’ve officially cut ties (not that you can’t still reach out to them, but I find it’s easier to just get these things out of the way). And if they say they won’t give you a positive reference, at least you figured that out right out the gate so you won’t waste time relying on it and can game plan alternative references (and of course also how to ruin their life).

Make sure to document everything

Write down everything that happens and is said, and try to get everything in writing from your employer, just in case you have to file a complaint against them. If we’ve learned nothing else from Hillary Clinton, a paper trail is the best possible indictment. And also you don’t want to have to rely on your memory—it’s going to be really hard to recall exactly how many times your boss called you a “fucking cunt” if you don’t tally it as it’s happening (14).

Apply for unemployment

My understanding is that you’re eligible for unemployment if you’re fired/laid off, but not if you quit. Which is one of the perks of getting fired—we can outlast even the most untenable of employment situations if it means the difference between $0 and $500 per week. Sure, it’s never going to be as much money as you were making, but it’s something, and it will help tide you over until you find your next gig. #you’restillgonnaneedtocutbackonyourlattesthough #andyourbikiniwaxes #embracethebush

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As Featured on News Cult: How to Survive Meeting Your Significant Other’s Parents

If you, miraculously, have a significant other, at some point you’re going to have to meet their parents [assuming you don’t fuck the relationship up and it lasts long enough]. It will make you suicidal, homicidal—all kinds of -idal. It’s arguably one of the most effective methods of torture. Your SO’s parents are going to hate you because of course. So here’s how you survive meeting them.

Bring a gift

Everybody loves a gift. Thus, it follows that even people who are bound to hate you will love a gift. And, if you bring them a gift, which they will love, then hopefully maybe they will hate you a little bit less. It’s mathematical logic, guys—it can’t fail. I suggest flowers (although then you run the risk that they’re allergic and you’re the asshole who inflamed their nasal passages), or wine (unless of course they’re an alcoholic, which, knowing their son/daughter, how could they not be, and then you’re responsible for their relapse which will go over so well), or something they can use in their home, like decorative dish towels (but then you’re kind of implying that they’re dirty), or a candle (which of course sends the message that they smell), or a cool culinary tool (but then it’s like “What, are you saying I’m a bad mother because I don’t cook enough?? You know, not all of us, unlike your mother apparently, had the luxury of quitting our jobs upon impregnation and becoming homemakers”).

Give a firm hand shake

You don’t want them taking your wet fish handshake as a sign of weakness. You can prepare for this by doing hand grip exercises in the weeks leading up to your meeting. Offer to open every pickle jar out there, steal your co-worker’s 3M stress ball and never let it go, and practice your handshake on particularly frail people (i.e. your dying grandmother, your boss’s toddler, or the anorexic girl in front of you in line at Ralph’s who has a cart full of cucumbers and cayenne pepper).

Dress like you’re going to church

Just in case they “don’t like tattoos” or “think V-necks are the Devil’s work” or “have a rod so long and stiff up their ass that they need a turtleneck to cover it up, hence their alarming affinity for neck coverage, whether by Elizabethan ruff or brass rings—whatever it takes. #exposednecksarethestuffofhos.”

Do your research

Find out what their interests are, what they studied in college, what they do for work, who their favorite sports teams are, etc., beforehand so you can show up with talking points aplenty. E.g.:

•”Mrs. Brown, I hear you majored in Women’s Studies. Which frankly is a surprise because you’re pretty much a walking trophy for The Patriarchy. For example, your multiple [bad] boob jobs, your reliance on your husband for financial support, the fact that you turn a blind eye when he goes to the strip club every Friday (at least)… Please explain.”


•”Mr. Johnson, I hear you are a big fan of Ray Lewis. Just wondering, how can you justify your admiration for him given he’s a cold-blooded murderer? Do you just give a free pass to pro athletes? I mean, should I be worried about ever being alone in an elevator with you?”


•”Mr. & Mrs. Swanson, I understand you work for [insert any big bank here] on Wall Street. How can you sleep at night? Are you aware of your extreme, soulless corruption? Do you understand that you’re giant pieces of shit? We’re talking supersized—in true American spirit.”

Avoid eye contact

Just in case they’re like dogs and take it as a challenge. The last thing you want is to find yourself going head-to-head with them about why Bernie Sanders is the best candidate in the upcoming presidential election, and maybe they can’t understand that because they’re greedy, tax-evading, white collar criminals who hate brown people, but it’s just simply the truth.

Be Yourself

Look, at the end of the day, fuck these people. You just do you, and they can take it or leave it (as with all life situations). If they don’t like you, it’s not because of you, but because of the death grip they have on their child’s ability to be an independent, free-thinking adult. Sometimes there’s just no winning, especially with helicopter parents. So throw caution to the wind and be your glorious, frighteningly messy, imperfect self. Plus, how could they not like you? You eat Fruity Pebbles for every meal, inner-thigh holes don’t deter you from wearing pants, and you cry more than any other person you know. If that’s not pitiful a winner, I don’t know what is.

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As Featured on News Cult: How to Survive Valentine’s Day


The worst day of all, perhaps rivaled only by the day Amy Poehler and Will Arnett got divorced, is almost upon us: Valentine’s Day. Like, we get it, couples—you’re in love and want to be romantic and whoopdi-fucking-do, gold star for you. Try doing something that’s actually worthy of celebration, like being alone forever and having to cultivate fierce independence and kill every spider in your bathtub ever completely by yourself, and having to change every light bulb on your own and never having anyone to help wash the sheets. So for those of you who want to stick it to Hallmark, here’s how you survive V Day.

Pretend it’s not happening

It’s just another meaningless day in the drudgery that is your existence. Like cancer, that creepy guy staring at you on the bus, and the stack of bills piling up on your dining room table, if you don’t acknowledge it, it’s not there.

Be thankful you don’t have to plan anything

If you’re single, you don’t have to worry about whether or not you’re supposed to celebrate, and if so, how, and what kind of gift you’re supposed to give, and what kind of message the type of bouquet you pick sends (I mean can we talk about the WORLD of difference between roses and carnations), and blah blah blah blah blah. You can just proceed with your regular nightly ritual of collapsing with a box of wine on your floor and falling asleep by 8 PM, 8:15 if you’re feeling adventurous.

Eat lots of chocolate

I mean, you may as well benefit from the surge in candy availability circa Feb 14. #youdon’tneedamantobuyyouchocolate #ourgorgingknowsnobounds

Look at this as a money-saving opportunity

The last thing your broke ass needs is a fancy gift or expensive dinner added to your credit card bill. #beingsinglecostshalfasmuch #cutthatdeadweight #we’releanmeancouponingmachines

Make sure to point out all the drawbacks of being in a relationship

To everyone around you who’s celebrating. I.e.:

•”You know it’s just such a pity, the divorce rate. But I’m sure you two will be the exception!”

•”Being in a long term relationship is just full of so many perks—like never having any personal space or time, having to pretend to like your boyfriend or girlfriend’s POS friends and family members, needing to keep up the facade of supporting their futile hopes and dreams, witnessing every gross thing about them (and there are a LOT of gross things about them). It’s a treat.”

•”Congratulations on your engagement! You only ever get to have sex with the same person’s shitty body for the rest of your life! That is, if he doesn’t cheat on you…”

•”Wow, that is such a considerate card he got you. It’s so nice to stick with something simple like a card—gifts are overrated. They just over-complicate things. And it’s even better that he didn’t write anything personal in it—you know, that’s what they make greeting cards for—coming up with your own thoughtful, heartfelt message is just a waste of time.”

•”I commend you on your ability to fully embrace your denial of your solitary existence. I mean, the fact that you can pretend like you actually believe you’re not going to die alone is so neat.”

•”Awww it’s so great that he proposed on Valentine’s Day—not cliché at all!”

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As Featured on News Cult: How to Curse Someone

When you are wronged, you must seek justice, but in the most subtle of ways, because nothing is quite so sweet as revenge that takes its victim off guard, and also then you can’t be blamed for whatever misfortune befalls your foe. Enter: the curse. I’m not saying you have to believe in witchcraft or hold ritualistic sacrificial blood oath ceremonies or spend hours into the night pricking your collection of voodoo dolls (although you totally can—I’ve heard worse ideas), but just give the power of thinking a shot. Focus your energy on hoping really hard that one of the below things happens to your target, and you just may be pleasantly surprised. #karmahasnodeadline

1. I hope you get less than 10 likes on ALL your Instagram posts!

The powerful difference between:


2. Step on a Lego! Actually,  I hope you step on a whole Lego house. We’re talking Ed Sheeran, here—a fucking Lego NEIGHBORHOOD.

3. I hope you cry a river and promptly drown in it.

4. I hope your rent is raised a more than manageable amount!

5. I hope that your narcissistic insecurity leads you to the decision to get plastic surgery and that it turns out really badly and that deals a crushing blow to any chance you might have ever had of feeling the tiniest bit good about yourself.

6. I hope you get at least three cavities at once, preferably at regular intervals. #flossingcan’tsaveyounow

7. May your inbox never get down to 0!

8. I hope you drank the water in Flint.

9. I hope you send an important document via regular mail and it gets lost! #should’vegonewithcertified

10. I hope your CVS receipt strangles you.

11. I hope you fall into a pit of glitter.

12. I hope all of your flights from here to eternity are delayed so that you miss all of your connections and lose all of your baggage. In fact, I hope you only ever get to take flights WITH stops and are banned from flying Southwest so you never get free peanuts or occasionally free Chex Mix or those little heart-shaped drink stirrer thingies and your bags will never fly free again!

13. I hope your smoking habit finally pays off and you die swiftly but painfully of the worst possible stage of lung cancer. #sohehuffedandhepuffedandhedroppedthefuckdead

14. May you be audited by the IRS.

15. I hope you get stuck in an elevator with Ann Coulter before she’s eaten her celery for the day.

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As Featured on News Cult: Why I’m Considering Switching to Girls

I’ve only ever dated and primarily been attracted to men. And if you can’t tell, it’s not going well (which you can totally tell because that’s like all I talk about). So I’m seriously considering switching to women. And before you jump down my throat for implying that sexual orientation is a choice, let me just say that I think it can be. I don’t think we can control most of what turns us on/what and who we are sexually attracted to. But I think we can choose if/how we act on and pursue that, which is easier in some ways and more difficult in others. I’m all for embracing your sexual orientation, however you personally define or conceive of it. If that means going for who you’re instinctually attracted to, great. If that means going for someone else, for whatever reason you decide, great.

I can easily see myself dating a girl and being into it, even though it hasn’t been the obvious choice for me up until now. I find women to be attractive in lots of ways that men aren’t. And I’m not really talking about physical or sexual attractiveness. I think for me, that type of attraction varies depending on the person, and isn’t like a “I’m attracted to the female form” kind of thing (although I do find the female form beautiful). Like, I’m either physically attracted to an individual or not, man or woman.

But the mental, emotional, soul parts of women are what attract me most. In my experience, men are lacking in emotional intelligence—there isn’t much depth to them. They aren’t super considerate or sensitive, or thoughtful. They kind of operate on a “how will this serve me or not?” basis. Which is just, like, the most unappealing thing when in a relationship with someone. Trust me, I don’t need to have cry sessions every night with whoever I’m dating and talk about all of our feelings and make sure we’re meeting each other’s needs, and understand our different love languages, and validate and communicate and listen and oh my god I’m so bored I literally would rather impale myself on a fence—like the whole fence—like the length of my body ALL along the fence—than be here doing this with you, which is the worst. But it’s nice to be with someone who actually gives a shit about you and how he/she may affect you. And sorry, men, but you just don’t give enough of a shit.

Conversely, I have the sense that women give a shit about each other in relationships. I’m not saying that all women are paragons of emotional stability or intuition—God knows I’ve encountered my fair share of female frenemies—but when it comes to feelings, emotional well-being, etc., women are better at understanding. I can’t tell you how many times a guy has done or said something to me that I’ve found hurtful, and when I explain the situation to a female, she totally gets it. Whereas the guy clearly didn’t. Or he got it and chose to do it anyways. Either way, women are not as harsh or lacking in self-awareness.

I also feel like women are less judgy in romance. They’re more accepting, and less intimidating. I don’t get the sense that in romantic contexts, women are harshly evaluating each other’s bodies, or blowing off each other’s feelings. Maybe it’s because as a woman, you understand women better? I hate to be that person, who’s like “we’re all in tune with each other’s female needs, so much so that our cycles sometimes sync up, and we gather on the full moon to howl together in our feminine power” or some bullshit, but maybe it’s true that women get women, simply by virtue of being women. At least when it comes to the body—it’s easy to understand and love and know what feels good for someone’s body when you experience it similarly.

I know these are generalizations, but I’m also fairly confident they hold true as such. I know my experience isn’t universal, but I feel like I’ve had enough of it, and know about enough other girls’ experiences with men, to safely represent a well-rounded sample. Resort to the tired, lazy retort often used on feminists or any women who report any negative experiences with men and call me a man-hater, if you will—that’s fine—I do hate men, sometimes and in some ways. I also hate exercise, and doing laundry, and people who don’t like mint chocolate chip ice cream, and cats, and happy people—I don’t discriminate when it comes to hate. But I maintain that women are far less disappointing than men when it comes to relationships. And I for one am tired of being disappointed in relationships. So if I can find a connection to a woman that is mutually fulfilling, which at this point I believe is more likely than finding it with a man, then that’s what I’ll do. [Insert joke about taking a dip in the lady pond, or switching teams, or going through the experimental stage I missed in college—a women’s college, no less—here].

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