The question is: Do you want the fire of love at first sight or the security of being friends first? That’s like saying, which is more important—the sex or the conversation? When you’re young, it’s definitely the sex. Let’s face it, everybody’s single, you have lots of friends to talk to, and your hormones are so crazy you’re faking yeast infections just to have an excuse to scratch.
But picking someone just because they are attractive makes as much sense as a dog picking its mate by sniffing her ass. It can get you stuck with someone you hate just because they gave you a little tail. That’s why creatures that mate for life tend to all look exactly the same, like penguins or Asians.
The problem with love at first sight is that the dating relationship is very different from the marriage relationship, which is completely different from the parenting relationship. It’s better to have boring sex with a friend and responsible spouse than exciting sex with a douchebag. And if you don’t think that’s true, you haven’t been following Britney Spears lately.
Online Flirting/Cheating
Checking people out online is not cheating any more than checking people out at the mall is cheating. However, if you’re in a relationship and meeting people on the web, you’re just like every other degenerate fuck in the universe. Turn off the computer and love the one you’re with. Remember, the grass is always greener when you don’t have to listen to them talk. Fucking someone you met online in a seedy hotel room is cheating.
If you’re single, communicating with strangers on the Internet is a great way to meet a lot of people. People don’t connect in bars anymore and meeting at the gym is so 1988. People flirt on the web because single moms can’t leave their kids at home and troll for dad number two at the bar, and men can’t get their third DUI waiting for Miss Close Enough. If you’re single, cruising for people on the web is a great way to save gas and the environment.
The Internet, however, has complicated being in a relationship. It used to be if you feared your boyfriend cheating, you kept him home. Nowadays, that’s the worst place he could be. At least in public, he only flirts with women who are attractive, and the losers I date don’t get too far with that type. But online flirting is unstoppable. One minute, your boyfriend tells you he wants to check the score of the game, and five minutes later, you walk in on him whacking off. “Uh, I’m guessing the Knicks finally won a game?”
Texting While on Dates
Texting on a date is completely inappropriate unless it’s a blind date, and by “blind date,” I mean the other person is blind. What could be more important on a date with me than me? Texting has become something everyone accepts people doing. I had a guy trying to text someone while I was blowing him. He asked me what button makes the smiley face and I said, “The one I’m sucking on.”
Texting has gotten way out of hand. Everyone is texting constantly and no one is that important or interesting. I understand texting at an airport or in a doctor’s office, but if you’re that bored on a date, buy your own dinner and masturbate. I’m not saying you can’t peek at your phone to see if someone hotter or with more money wants a shot at you, but typing away like a coked-out Stephen King is just plain rude. Quite honestly, the only way your fingers should be working that hard on a date is if your hands are under the table and up my skirt. There’s only one acceptable text to send while on a date and it reads, “I’m gonna fuck him:).”
Remember when the most obnoxious behavior on a date was when the guy chewed with his mouth open? Those were the good ol’ days before cell phones. I don’t know which is worse—the fact that they are sending messages to someone else during dinner or the fact that they only look up long enough to check out the waitress’s ass.
And what could possibly be so important that it can’t wait until after the date? I mean, sure, your friends want to know if UROK. And if you are enjoying your DNR. And if this date could be a possible LTR. But we are on a D8. And I don’t care if your friends are drunk at a bar, which is always good for an LOL, but they need to say TTFN, and they can T2UL8R. Either that or tonight you ain’t getting NUFN.
Maintaining Contact with Exes and Former Fuck Buddies
Remaining friends with someone you have been romantically involved with depends on two things: How close were you before you got together, and how did it end? If it ended with the words “cunt” and “worthless nigger,” you’re probably not gonna be meeting for coffee on a rainy Saturday.
It’s hard for two people to stay friends if one of the parties wants to remain a couple or has no other options. If you can have an emotionless booty call after the breakup, more power to you. But in most cases to remain friends, you need to have an activity you enjoy together that doesn’t involve jizz, like the Yankees or the opera.
Sometimes you can stay good friends until one of you meets the One. Once people meet the One, all old exes and fuck buddies need to go out the window. No guy wants to hang out with someone who used to shoot loads on his girl. Girls have a hard time being friends with any girl the guy knows for fear of getting too close to the enemy. Sometimes it’s impossible to hang out with people after you have had sex with them because you can’t look them in the eye knowing they like it in the ass too.
Quite frankly, why would you possibly want to stay friends with your ex? Either you didn’t get along or he dumped you for someone better looking. If that’s the case, why should you hang out with the shallow prick to begin with? That would be like eating at a restaurant that fired you. Why give them the extra business when it would be much more fun to spread rumors that they masturbate in the soup? Which, by the way, is the rumor I used to spread about all my ex-boyfriends until one told me he only did that once because he ran out of salt.
Fat Girl, Interrupted
Affirmations
Affirmations are little sayings losers repeat to trick themselves into feeling good about themselves. I like to call this “psychology for dummies.” Sayings like “You can do it” and “Everybody likes you” make T-ball rewarding but do absolutely nothing in adulthood. Affirmations actually make people feel worse about themselves, because deep down inside they know that the affirmations are not true. If you have to tell yourself you’re pretty, trust me, you’re not. Everyone knows that when it comes to beauty, the only opinions that count are the opinions of others. If no one has ever bought you a drink in a bar, you better write “I’m pretty” in lipstick on the mirror big enough to cover your whole face because, believe it, you are fucking ugly.
Maybe I’m just too smart to fool myself, but how can repeating something a hundred times make it so? If the theory behind affirmations is true, I guess O. J. wrote “I didn’t kill that white bitch and that little Hebe” on his hand every day before he went into the courtroom.
The best way to stop hating yourself isn’t to repeat gibberish you know isn’t true all day long. The secret is to just stop thinking about yourself and turn your attention to others. To that end, do affirmations but choose ones that show how good you are in comparison to other, less fortunate people. For example, replace the negative thought “I’m a fat pig” with the positive sentiment “I am a sexy bitch, at least compared to these other cows shopping at Lane Bryant.” When you take the time to see how much more awful other people are, you’ll start to feel much better about you. Pretty soon, you’ll stop chanting, “I am perfect just the way I am,” and start chanting, “Well, at least I’m not as fucked up as Julie,” which is all we really want anyway, right? To be less fucked up than our peers.
Fat Self-helpers
Oprah is the biggest fraud on television. She is always telling other people to stay true to themselves, but if she was true to herself, she’d be fingerbanging Gayle onstage every show instead of listening to what Dr. Oz says about vegetables. As if she cares about healthy food! Oprah eats vegetables about as much as I eat pussy.
Oprah pretends to care about other people, but she has more money than God and only gives it to that child abuse camp in Africa. That�
�s like calling yourself a great humanitarian because for less than the price of a cup of coffee you sponsor a kid in the jungle. Oprah also acts like she gives a shit about her guests’ problems. I haven’t seen someone fake cry that well since I told my mother I was breaking up with my spoon boyfriend. But people are fooled by Oprah’s phony sympathy because of her acting ability. That bitch must imagine someone ate her last piece of cheesecake to conjure up that kind of emotion.
The second biggest fraud on TV is Oprah’s friend Dr. Phil. The first time I saw Dr. Phil’s show, I thought it was a Mad TV sketch, because it’s too funny for Saturday Night Live. Dr. Dre is a more legitimate doctor than Dr. Phil. Dr. Phil is more full of shit than a Porta Potty at a rib fest. It never ceases to amaze me that people take life advice from a guy who’s on after Guiding Light.
Wake up, people! Dr. Phil spells “prophet” P-R-O-F-I-T. That man will put a book on the shelves about anything, even weight loss. What kind of balls does it take for a fat ass like Dr. Phil to have weight-loss books? The man has no shame. What’s next? The Dr. Phil Hair Restoration System?
By the way, if my editor deletes this rant, I would be happy to be part of Oprah’s Book Club.
Smartwater
Let me get this out of the way right from the start. Drinking Smartwater does not make you smarter. Seriously, if water made you smarter, the government would never let it out, like the cure for AIDS. Our government wants people dumb enough to pay four dollars a gallon for gas, not people smart enough to start a revolution.
Anybody who buys bottled water is, by definition, stupid. Water used to be free. Now we idiots pay two dollars a bottle and have the balls to name it Smartwater. If we were smart, we’d drink water from the faucet. Smartwater’s manufacturers say it’s called Smartwater because it has electrolytes and vitamins added, unlike tap water, which has lead, copper, and sewage added. And what is an electrolyte anyway? I think it’s just a fancy way of saying “calorie.” No wonder everyone in this country is obese. We’ve even found a way to make our water fattening. What’s next? Fudge-flavored air? Trust me, my dad invented that years ago.
Smartwater is also proof of how pretentious we are. “Do you drink water?” “Of course not! What am I—a Mexican? I drink Smartwater.” And you can tell that Smartwater is for intelligent people, because their spokesperson is Jennifer Aniston. Yes, I immediately think intelligence whenever I see her. What happened? Was Jessica Simpson not available? Was Pam Anderson too busy with her “I’ll suck the cock of every white trash rock star, but I won’t eat meat” campaign? And what “smart” activity do they have Jennifer Aniston doing in the ad? Sitting naked right behind the bottle, just to drive the point home in case you didn’t notice that the bottle is shaped like a dildo. Great campaign, guys! Calling a product “smart” and then advertising it in the most obvious, mindless way. I guess that’s what you get when your marketing team is the Hilton sisters.
Vegetarians, Vegans, and Other Wastes of Skin
Vegetarians are the most annoying people on earth because these cunts are always hungry. What they don’t know is if they just ate a piece of meat, their bellies would be full and they could quit whining. Vegetarians are not just annoying—they’re stupid, because you need protein to maintain your brain and a fake hamburger doesn’t have enough protein.
Some people are vegetarians because they say they want to be healthy, but then they end up eating Snickers bars for dinner because “it’s not meat.” That kind of diet may keep some of them skinny, but it also gives them a deathly shade of gray. Some people are vegetarian because they think eating meat is cruel to animals. Yeah, right—like animals aren’t mean?!? Every animal on earth would gnaw you down to your fake fingernails and breast implants if you came between it and its survival. Hell, Lassie would chow on little Timmy if they ran out of Alpo. And cruelty! Who cares? Steaks are so delicious, they’re well worth the “pain” of the slaughterhouse. Besides, cows are the fat chicks of animals. They’ll let anyone play with their titties. There deserves to be a little thinning of the herd.
Vegetarians especially hate veal because the meat comes from baby animals. Screw you, hippies! I love veal. In fact, I personally want to thank all the farmers out there for getting up at four in the morning, putting on the glove, and sticking it in through the cage to massage the baby calves.
If you’re going to be a vegetarian, do me a favor. Don’t pretend it’s mainstream and expect me to bend over backward for you. There are more people in this country who smoke cigarettes than people who don’t eat meat. We won’t allow cigarette smokers to light up in a restaurant, so why do you think we’ll give a shit that you’re offended that our pasta sauce has meat?
Vegans are a whole other level of vegetarian asshole. These retards don’t even drink real milk—they drink that gook milk. They say humans are the only adult animal that drinks milk. Well, no shit. We’re the only ones who are able to milk a cow. Adult cats go crazy for milk when you give it to them. But they get kicked in the head when they try to milk the cow themselves.
And talk about emaciated! Vegans look like their skin is going to fall off their brittle little bones. And their personalities are no better! Hanging out with those lifeless shitheads is about as fun as eating their tasteless cookies.
I do agree with one thing the vegans do, however: not wearing leather. I never wear leather—not because it’s cruel, but because it makes my twat sweat.
Deepak Chopra
Deepak Chopra is a nut job doctor from India who decided to start writing books after going into the emergency rooms and having dying patients tell him they wanted to wait for the white doctor, or at least a Chink. The guy has written more books than Stephen King and they make as much sense as Pink Floyd lyrics.
Chopra claims God is not an old man in heaven, he is a spirit who lives in every person. This guy must not watch National Geographic Channel’s Inside Maximum Security. Chopra’s hippie bullshit is why this country is fucked. Most people don’t need a hug—they need to get kicked in the fucking head.
In his defense, Deepak Chopra is the one Indian who Americans will actually listen to. And he didn’t even change his name to Steve or Mike like those fake-ass Indians you have to talk to when you call the HP computer help desk. Chopra is one of these spiritual freaks, like your yoga teacher, who think everything can be solved with a better understanding of the mind-and-body connection. Cancer, world peace, the Yankees’ pitching—everything can be healed with meditation. In fact, he thinks meditation and self-awareness are the primary factors in getting sick and getting well. At least that’s what he tells his nurses when he doesn’t want to use a condom.
In some ways, I have to agree with Chopra. My doctor is always asking me stupid questions, like does my family have a history of cancer or heart disease, and do I exercise and watch what I eat. Instead, Chopra would just ask me if I was meditating on my health. Yes, I meditate on my health for thirty minutes every morning. I know it’s thirty minutes, because I do it while I’m taking a shit.
Celebrity Rehab
Nowadays, rehab is the latest implement in the celebrity’s career toolbox. If a celeb can’t flash her gash getting out of a car or adopt a Pygmy, she goes to rehab and those flashbulbs start a-poppin’. Real-life people go to rehab after a lifetime of mistakes. Celebrities go after one, just to get on Access Hollywood. Celebrity rehab is what you do when you want to save your career and you’re not good-looking enough to sleep with a producer.
Celebrity rehab has become just another way to promote a project. “Let’s see…I could fly around the country doing interviews or I could skip it, go to rehab, and get twice as much press. Sign me up!”
And celebrities will use any excuse in the book to go to rehab. Instead of just admitting they have a problem with Jews or blacks, they pretend they have a problem with drugs and alcohol. But thankfully, they get what’s coming to them. These big shots go to rehab thinking they’re going to be treated like stars and that they’re g
oing to have to sign autographs, then they get there and they’re treated like every other loser. They should know better. People trying to kick heroin don’t care about your movie career. They just don’t want to shit their pants at night when they get strapped into a bed.
Celebrity rehab is like putting violent criminals together in jail. They keep themselves busy making new contacts for when they get released. Forget MySpace. If you want to network, get into celebrity rehab. You’ll come out with a new agent and a new manager, and Steven Tyler will offer to do the soundtrack on your next movie. Twenty-eight days later, you come out on the A list with three movie offers and a complimentary date with Jennifer Aniston. As a matter of fact, celebrity rehab is so important to a career in show business that a star’s drug dealer is now a legitimate tax write-off under the category of Ridiculous Bullshit Expenses, like plastic surgery or a publicist.
“Kumbaya”
“Kumbaya” is a song that was written before music was used as a form of entertainment. The song became famous in the thirties and has all of the joy and hope of the Great Depression. In the sixties, “Kumbaya” was sung by that downer cunt Joan Baez, so you know it has all the musical finesse of a retard banging his head against the wall.
“Kumbaya” is a song drenched in naïveté. It’s sung by enemies who still hate each other but want the photo op. It’s sung in rehab when you leave to push you out the door with positivity. This is hypocritical, because your fellow rehabbers want you to die a painful death and the rehab center wants you to come back and give them more money. It’s the same fake nice you get at the supermarket or the bank because they have to give you a toaster if they don’t smile.
When it was written, “Kumbaya” was a heartfelt spiritual song. Today if you are singing “Kumbaya,” it means you have made some horrible error in life, like getting addicted to drugs or signing up for summer camp. The song is supposed to be about inviting Jesus into your life. Instead, it’s being sung by some horny white guy with a Jew-fro trying to seem sensitive just so he can get into some vulnerable girl’s pants. And they always make you hold hands and sing it around a campfire in the middle of the woods. That’s why we’ve never found Big-foot. His only experience with human beings is hunters, gay men cornholing in the woods, or former druggies singing a cheesy song whose name means “douchebag with a guitar.”
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