The Friend Zone: Women’s Edition

Women are notorious for taking perfectly dateable men and transporting them to a cold, dark place known as The Friend Zone. You’ve done it. I’ve done it. We’ve all done it. And we probably have at least one  “friend” that we’re kicking ourselves in the ass for friend-zoning.

But let’s not assume that this practice is exclusive to women. Men, I’ve found, do the same thing, and women are just as oblivious to it.

When it comes to The Friend Zone, there’s really no question as to why a man has been put there: the woman doesn’t want to date you. She will never date you. She will ask you to fix stuff for her, and she will bitch about the asshole she’s currently dating, but she will never date you, and that is clear.

Not so with men. They have what I like to call the Back Up Barn and it is here that they herd sad, desperate females with the oft-unfulfilled promise of “I dunno, maybe, one day, possibly, I guess.”

Here’s how to tell if you’re just another sexy sheep.

 

1. Obviously if he’s being up front with you about his other romantic interests then you are not one of them. Most women are smart enough to figure that out, so they pack it up and move on. But if he’s being deliberately vague with you about other women, or what his feelings are with respect to you, guess what? HE DOESN’T HAVE ANY. You’re a Plan B, sweetheart. A silver medal. Give it up.

2. If all of his compliments are with respect to your looks, that’s pretty much all he’s interested in. Feel free to fuck him all ya want, but don’t expect it to go further than that. Men are not as shallow as we make them out to be – he’s not pursuing a relationship with a pretty girl just because she’s pretty; he’s actually interested in her, on some level, as a human being. The majority of people aren’t going to enter in to a commitment with someone they can’t stand or have nothing in common with – and that includes men. If you think every guy who’s ever turned you down falls under that category, maybe you should ask yourself why you’re drawn to that kind of man in the first place.

3. You know how you’ll talk to someone every day, and there’s flirtatious banter and cutesy exchanges and winky faces and hearts and shit? Ever had that just stop abruptly, and suddenly your conversations (which you always seem to initiate) become forced, and there is absolutely zero explanation for it? There is an explanation for it: he’s talking to a girl who isn’t you. And if this happens every few weeks or so, he’s talking to a lot of girls who aren’t you.

Yes, people get busy. Yes, shit happens unexpectedly. But people who actually give a shit about you are willing to explain that. If a guy can spend three hours texting back and forthwith you,  he can spend three seconds texting you to say he’s busy at work, or out of town for the week. If he doesn’t, you weren’t that important to begin with. Get over it and find someone who does think you’re worth three seconds of their time.

4. It takes a lot for a anyone, male or female, to muster up the courage to ask a potential partner point blank where we stand as far as dating is concerned. That’s a really vulnerable position to be in – and if the guy snaps on you, gets pissed off, clams up, is visibly offended, or basically reacts in any way that isn’t civilized open dialogue, you’re a back up bitch. You exist solely for “just in case”. Otherwise, why is he turning this in to such an issue? Why would he make you feel about thisbig for asking a fairly simple question?

Remember ladies and gentlemen:

-You are no one’s second choice.

-You are no one’s silver medal.

-You are no one’s back up plan.

 

If you think that’s all you deserve, go be in a relationship with yourself for a while. It’s probably for the best.

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What Babies Are Not

I know a few people that are always going on about wanting children, how they’re going to have a baby in a year when things “settle down”, how they think they’d make great parents, how they’re going to do everything right when they have a little one of their own. And in nearly every single fucking instance, I think to myself, “You are the exact type of person who should not have a baby right now.”

And it’s because they really have no concept of what a baby is. What it means to have a child. They do not comprehend that once you decide to have a kid, the life you have led for however many years is gone. You have a new life now. In many ways, it will be better, and in more ways it will be harder, and that is due in no small part to the fact that parenting is one of the few things in life that you pretty much have to completely fucking improvise. There is no manual, no two week training period, no documentary. You just kinda have to, you know, do it, and hope like hell no one dies.

So. For those of you who think you can like, omigosh, so totally handle having a kid cuz maybe you’ve babysat a few times and your nieces and nephews seem to like you – read on. This is for you.

1. A baby is not a doll. You’re having a human, not a Barbie. And if you knew shit about kids, you’d know that the last thing you need is a plethora of cutesy little goddamn outfits, since a baby will just shit and puke all over them, then promptly get too big to wear any of it.

2. A baby is not a relationship Band-aid. Your marriage/partnership will not improve by bringing a human life in to the mix. My guess is it’s probably going to get worse because babies are stressful and exhausting. If your relationship is on the rocks, work that shit out before you drag an innocent child in to it.

3. A baby is not proof of your maturity. If you think it is, you’re not mature enough to have a baby.

4. A baby is not fun. Yeah, there are parts of parenthood that are fun. But in those early, formative months, it’s a lot of craziness, trial and error, questions, stress, confusion, worry, and sleepless nights. You aren’t going to have fun for a while, champ.

5. A baby is not temporary. Your life is changed now. You can’t just dump the kid off with someone and go about your pre-kid existence. You can’t party every weekend. You can’t party in the middle of the week. You don’t get to sleep 12 hours a day anymore. Your shitty minimum wage job will no longer cut it. Your child deserves all of you, they require the absolute best that you have to give.

6. A baby is not a dog. I shouldn’t even have to fucking say this. I don’t care how much you love your dog. I don’t care that your dog has pet insurance and is doted on and worshipped. I don’t care that you think dog owners have it harder because they don’t qualify for government assistance (yeah, I’ve actually heard these words come out of someone’s mouth). YOUR DOG IS NOT A FUCKING HUMAN BEING. PERIOD. IT IS NOT THE SAME. 

To help put this in perspective: Let’s say your apartment building is on fire. A baby is trapped inside. So is your dog. Now let’s say your best friend comes along. When given the choice between rescuing YOUR DOG and a STRANGER’S BABY most people are going to pick the baby. Yes, the fact that you take such good care of your pet is a good indicator that you’ll be good with a child. But if you think caring for a dog and caring for a baby are basically the same thing, you’re a fucking idiot.

7. A baby is not leverage. Pregnancy is not how you keep a man in a relationship. A child is not a pawn for use in your divorce/break up. If you think a child is a good way to manipulate people, you are a shitty person.

8. A baby will not grow up to be your best friend. It’s your child, not your buddy. You did not give birth to a minime. You gave birth to a goddamn individual. If you are still operating under the assumption that you won’t be like your parents, that you’ll let them wear what they want and talk how they want and do what they want, you are delusional. My kids’ grandmother put it best: “if your teenager doesn’t hate you at some point, you’re not doing your job as a parent.”

9. A baby is not a trophy. You are going to fuck up this kid. No matter what you do, you will do something wrong. And chances are, your kid is still going to be okay. If you have this grand idea in your head that feeding a kid only organic food and never letting them watch TV and making sure every hard surface in their life is covered in foam, you are totally missing the point of being a parent. A baby is not something you parade around and show off so everyone knows what a stellar person you are. You aren’t perfect. Your kid won’t be either. And that’s okay.

 

Please breed responsibly.

How We’ll Spend Our Summer Vacation

It’s that time again! The kids are out of school! Time to entertain them every second of the next 90 goddamn days.

Here’s a list of fun summer activities you can engage in. No. Really. They’re fun. I swear.

Bring liquor.

 

Water Parks

Because I know nothing gets me out of bed quicker than the knowledge that I will spend the next eight hours in wet clothes traipsing around a concrete jungle of slides in the blistering heat making sure my kids don’t drown in the pee-tainted waters. Oh you’re hungry? Why yes, I’d love to buy you a $14 grilled cheese sandwich. Thirsty? Let me just take out a second mortgage on the house so I can buy you bottled water. A souvenir? Yes, because nothing says “I had a great time!” like a $50 stuffed dolphin the size of my fist.

 

barbecue“Talking to you makes me want to kill myself!”

Barbecues

You mean you want me to invite over a shit ton of people so they can eat my food, play in my yard, shit in my toilet, drink all my beer, awkwardly mingle with me, instruct me on the proper way to cook a burger, and in return I shall receive boatloads of store bought potato salad and extremely unappetizing dips? And I get to clean up by myself? Where the fuck do I sign up?

Fireworks

Nothing says summertime like sitting in itchy grass surrounded by bugs and drunks, waiting an hour and a half for 15 minutes of colorful explosions which my children will lose interest in after about ten minutes and then ask if they can play Fruit Ninja on my phone.

bro“Bro, do you even bro, bro?”

The Beach

Sometimes you wake up on a Saturday and think to yourself, “I really feel like it’s a good day to pack up half the linen closet and 2/3 of the refrigerator, load that shit in the trunk, get the kids in swimsuits, drive to a public swimming locale, pay $10 for parking, haul all that down to the shore, slather the kids in lotion, and send them on their way so you can witness the parade of thong sporting club girls navigating the sand in strappy gold heels and frat boys in plaid shorts and flip flops chugging beer and tossing their cans on the ground like assholes.

Amusement Parks

For those times that going to a water park, where you can at least cool off in a mixture of urine and chlorine, just doesn’t adequately fulfill our desire to be fucking miserable. For those times, locate your nearest overpriced, overrated, overcrowded land-o-fun, fork over half your salary for the month, and let the misery begin.

roadtrip“I’m going to smother each and every one of you.”

Road Trips

Is there some place you’ve always wanted to visit but you feel that getting there quickly and comfortably is for sissy bitches? Why not cram the fam in to the car, fill every available space with luggage and snacks, and spend the next week slowly learning to hate all of the people you live with?

 

Would I Like California?

A friend of mine asked me this question today.

My answer was yes. It was also far more condensed than it might have been had we been speaking face to face. And I’ll tell you why.

Because every day I wake up and get my first look out the window, I fall in love with California all over again.

I wasn’t born and raised here, technically. I’ve lived here for a third of my life. But I can say, without question, that that third has always been my favorite third.

So when someone asks me if they would like California, what I want to do is sit them down and tell them everything. I want to tell them how the Pacific Coast Highway looks at sunset and how the redwoods look at dawn. I want to tell them how our summer days are hot, but the nights drop to sixty. How in the middle of July, you can sit on the beaches of Northern California under the stars wrapped in a blanket in front of a bonfire and still feel a chill. How our avenues are lined with palm trees and the streets of San Francisco are lined with architectural rainbows and  palettes of people. How I still smile when I see a trolley. That enveloping sense of pride I get when the frame of the Golden Gate Bridge begins to emerge from the distant fog, a symbolic arm stretching out its hand to escort me in to the city.

I think of Apple Hill in Placerville and the drives I took in the fall with my mother for apple wine and butter, and the trips to Tahoe for the weekend so we could go to “the snow”, and how everyone calls going to Tahoe “going to the snow”. I think of the Santa Cruz boardwalk and the Santa Monica Pier and those tiny towns that dot the northern coast, like Ferndale in its perpetual state of Christmas and Solvang in all its authentic Danish glory.

I think of those things and I marvel at how lucky I am to live in what I’m pretty sure, after 30 years of traveling and seeing damn near every state, is the most breathtaking place in the country.

It’s more than just my history here, the fact that this is where I kissed my first boy, made the friends I still have today, became the person I am now. Those aren’t what I thought of when I was 1500 miles away and missing home. What I thought of was the sense of belonging I felt, the peace that filled me when I stood in a ray of California sunshine. We have our crazies, we have our hippies, we have our gun-hating, overly-PC idiots. Totally. But what I see most here is love. People love living here. And they love other people. We are offended by injustice, we are disgusted by inequality. We snub bigotry and promote acceptance. We love. The people, I’ve found, are as magnificent as the scenery.

So would you like California? I don’t know. But for me, this place is home, and there is nowhere else I’d rather be.

Slogans for the American Public School System

So after reading this:

cursive-response

 

   I decided to make these:

steuhs

adhd

bully

classroom

crowded

lockers

lunch

metaldetector

 

 

 

 

How Women Should Respond to Criticism

Statement: You don’t have the body to wear a bikini.

Response: You don’t have the vocabulary to understand half the shit I say.

 

Statement: Women belong in the kitchen.

Response: Sexists belong in shallow graves in my backyard.

 

Statement: You’re a slut.

Response: No, I’m attractive and charming. You should try it sometime.

 

Statement: You aren’t very ladylike.

Response: I have tits and vagina. Those are the only requirements to be a lady, last I checked.

 

Statement: You’re fat.

Response: Go fuck yourself.

 

Statement: You’re a bitch.

Response: Cool, I’ll be sure to file that under Shit I Already Knew.

 

Statement: Wouldn’t you rather be working than at home with your kids/at home with your kids than working?

Response: Wouldn’t you rather be minding your own fucking business?

The Illustrated Driver’s Handbook for Fucking Idiots

CAR

This is a car. It is what you will be driving.

steering

This is a steering wheel. It is in your best interest, and everyone else’s, to keep at least one hand on the fucking thing at all times.

blinker2

Car blinker and lights switchcar-blinker-o

 

 

 

These pictures all represent your blinker. You also have a blinker on the back of your car. You can tell your blinker is on if there’s a little arrow flashing on your dashboard. Please use your blinker, asshole.

brake_pedalThese are the pedals you use to make your car go and stop. Your foot should not be on the brake pedal all the time. You use that one to stop. I’m talking to you, Prius drivers.

visor

This is your visor. Although sometimes it has a mirror, the visor is there to keep the sun out of your eyes, not so you can put on mascara going 90MPH on the freeway.

auto-dimming-mirror

These are your mirrors. They keep you from attempting to occupy space that another body of mass is already occupying. Physics, bitch.


cellphoneThis is a cell phone. PUT IT THE FUCK DOWN WHILE YOU ARE DRIVING, YOU SIMPLE BITCH.

cheeseburger

This is food. Do not shove it in to your facehole while trying to maneuver between semis, SUVs, stoplights, stop signs, passing trains, etc.

radio

This is your radio. If it is so loud that I can hear every lyric while my windows are up and you are making my car vibrate and I can hear your car vibrating, you are officially a dumb shit. Please exit the vehicle and give your keys to someone who is not.