The Frenemy.

With every action there is a reaction, just like with every Cosmopolitan article there are three 20-something men telling us how they “really see it.” Who cares if these men dole out high-fives and wear polo shirts like “Axe deodorant representative” is their official job title? Who cares if they’ve got “pump and dump” engraved on the watches their grandfathers have passed down to them? When Carl, 27, a professional Hollister model and steak fanatic tells us that “for me, girls who wear stilettos are sexy because they’re in so much pain they can’t speak” we better listen. Whether or not Cosmo finds these college-aged experts on the street, passed out in the bar bathroom, or simply having a penis somewhere in the zone we’re standing in, they are experts on women and we cannot argue with them. Because they are men. And men are always right. Our buddy Scott K. investigates: 

Sure, you already read Cosmo, ladies, which makes you a Sexpert Sextician with a PhD in Sexy. But aren’t you sometimes still, like, super confused by men? I mean, what is the deal with men? SO CONFUSING. Who wouldn’t want to find out if Katherine Heigel and that guy from Transformers can overcome their hatred for one another and learn to love that baby that they’re caring for? That movie could end dozens of ways! Which brings us to Cosmopolitan’s “Ask a Guy!” section, where real men answer your real sex questions using real English. Finally, here are all your topical relationship worries addressed by certified hunks! Hunks. 

How does your sexual partner’s concern for the cholera epidemic in Haiti adversely affect your intimate moments?

“Whenever a girl gets too mushy on me, whether she wants a ‘second date’ or wants to talk about the catastrophes plaguing the third world, that’s definitely a boner no-no! Brad, 25, sous chef

“Men don’t like it when they’re about to see some boobies and girl be remindin’ them of the suffering of their fellow human beings. Dudes be like, ‘Damn, girl, now you got me donating money to the Red Cross when all I wanted was mutually-agreed upon intercourse!’” Wilford, 29, alcoholic

“’Cholera?’ ‘Haiti?’ Are those words? Is this a trick?” Sebastian, 23, special envoy to the U.N.

“Guys hate being reminded of the diseases that killed off their Oregon Trail family when they were kids. That’s the kind of thing that really haunts you.” Archimedes, 26, alchemist

If a girl you’re dating farts near you, what is your preferred method of leaving her apartment/the restaurant/the church?

“I’ve trained my face muscles over the years to remain motionless no matter what disgusting noise comes out of my lady companion. I am able to perfectly mask the contempt that overwhelms me until I have a moment to excuse myself and flee the scene. Ideally, we are in the middle of a date and I have just left her with the bill. It is what she deserves.” Alphonse, 30, seal trainer

“A lot of guys are big fans of the whole ‘fake my own death and move to another state’ routine, and I’ve got to say it’s worked for me so far. I probably singlehandedly keep the black market passport industry in business.” “Johann”, 29, bootblack

It’s Game Day, but your girlfriend wants to go shopping somewhere emasculating. What do you do?

“Every Sunday, I wake up at 5:30 a.m. To preemptively slash the tires of my Road Ranger. ‘Oh no, honey!’ I say when I wake up and pretend to notice. ‘The tires have been slashed, and AAA won’t be able to come til tomorrow! Looks like we’ll have to settle for the Seahawks game!’ I think she may becatching on at this point, though.” A Different Brad, 27, tennis pro

“I drop hints like I’ve paid the Jumbotron guys to show a giant proposal to her on the screen, but never come right out and say it. This conveniently postpones the fight we have until after we’ve watched the whole game together.” Alex, 26, mortician

Well, you heard it here first, ladies. If you don’t agree…well, that’s just why you’re single. Fart.

It’s Halloween weekend, and I just can’t wait for the mediocre hijinks that will no doubt ensue over the next couple of days!  It’ll be just like a regular weekend, except with more cowboys, sexy nurses, and DJ’s that yell “are we having a HAPPY HALLOWEEN?!?!” FYI: the answer is “WOOOO.” I haven’t completely constructed a costume, yet. In my mind, however, it is completely possible to construct a full-blown Poison Ivy costume ten minutes before I have to go out while I am already drunk, so that’s my plan. Perhaps it’s best if I just go as my usual “dead thing with tits.” I’m not really a big costume person, I’m a big “let me judge what other people wear” person. For example, here are some people and costumes that I personally think are the worst and I hate you for them:

THE ONE IN THE MIDDLE IS “DADDY’S LITTLE SCHOLAR.”

-girls in groups of six or more that go as some dumb ass theme like “Whoreoscopes” or “Bowling Pinned” or “The Sexy Deadly Sins” and it just means that they all wear tube top dresses they glue shit on and a lot of eye glitter. Therefore, the one girl whose figure isn’t that of a 12-year old girl looks bad in the tube top dress and Ashely knew that would happen but she’s a bitch.

-The dude who needs to go as the most topical recent celebrity death because he’s a douchebag. The dude who thinks it’s funny to go as the BP oil spill because he’s a douchebag whose parents pay for his gas. The dude who goes as Captain Morgan because he’s an alcoholic douchebag.

- The guy in the full-on gorilla suit. Who are you? Why are you here? Who sent you here?! WHY CAN’T I SEE YOUR FACE?!

- The costume that I don’t know what it is because it looks basically like a normal outfit but it’s some obscure television character or anime character or something. This doesn’t bother me because I’m sure some people get it and enjoy it, but when I question who you’re being you treat me like I live under a rock that blocks brain waves from function. I’m sorry I didn’t correctly translate your casual attire!

-I’m sorry, but I’ve seen so many “sexy government jobs” that if I see one more D-cup who spent 46 dollars at Party City to portray a courageous union job with benefits, I’m going to funnel poison down her throat.

-The person who wears a normal outfit but puts on a post-it note or a sticker or something that he wrote “i’m george clooney” on or something. FUCK YOU THAT WAS MY IDEA.

Anyway, that’s enough of that- I’m sure we’ll all go out and have a great or okay time. For now, in the spirit of the start of the weekend, I’m currently sitting on my bed pregaming with 5 dollar white wine and watching Halloween 35: Youth Murder. Now, one of the main reason these movies never scare me is because I’m not a 17 year old who wears belly shirts and likes getting locked in haunted houses. Thus, I’m not too worried about getting dream murdered or guy in mask murdered. However, there are some spooky movie ideas that would definitely make me sleep with the lights on:

1. HE DOESN’T TEXT BACK: You have 0 New Messages…..

2. PRETTY GIRL DIES ALONE: This October, funny girls are the last to die..single.

3. THE LIQUOR STORE IS CLOSED: Two minutes can be a matter of life or sobriety.

4. THE FAMOUS AND SUCCESSFUL EX: First comes break up then big break.

5. SEX AND THE CITY 3: CAT LADIES When everyone they love leaves them

6. THE DRESS THAT CAN’T BE REMOVED: In a dressing room, nobody can hear you scream

7. UNFLATTERING HAIRCUT: It might grow out..someday.

8. THIS ROM COM HAS AN UNHAPPY ENDING: Despair: 1 Sandra Bullock: 0

9. EVERYBODY SMELLS YOUR PERIOD

10. SALAD MADE YOU FAT: ALL ALONG

Halloween is just around the corner, and I couldn’t be more excited about it. Besides it being the one night a year where you can proudly cling onto your childhood in public, it’s also the one night a year where you can eat candy and gorge on alcohol when you haven’t even been dumped. It’s a win-win for adults everywhere! However, there are some things you should keep in mind while preparing for the big holiday. I lay them out for you here:

10. DO be wary of Scream Masks

I’m sure, like me, you’re awaiting the Scr4am movie with bated breath. It’s gonna be exactly like the previous 3 but with different hot murder victims…and cell phones! Now the killer has to adjust to the fact that he can’t just threaten you on your landline anymore. Who even has one of those anymore? Anyway, I can’t wait for some teen in a bra could say “If this were Facebook, I’d get poked” before a metal rod went through her stomach and the audience would laugh because they aren’t cavemen. Anyway, this movie did remind me, however, that a lot of times at frat Halloween parties, people just wear normal clothes and a Scream mask. Which means that, since Scream has become topical again, a real killer could be easily hiding at your next party. Take precautions and turn off all the lights at a Halloween event. If, when you turn the lights back on, there are dead sorority girls everywhere, leave because dead bodies really ruin any good party.

9. DON’T tell people about your costume ahead of time

Because you haven’t made it yet. You haven’t even thought about making it, you lazy underachiever. But you figure you’ll get around to it because it would be so epic! Now that it’s the weekend before Halloween, you realize how many people think you are going as Jennifer Lopez’s Body. You panic. You go to one or two thrift stores, buy a couple of mismatched shirts and face paint, feel supremely discouraged and end up wearing a sheet and going as “Ghost with a Beer ” and everybody realizes you’re a big liar and you’ll never amount to anything! Dad! Come on, it’s just Halloween! Move out of my house already!

8. DO go in an entirely separate costume than your significant other

First of all, you don’t look like Brad and Angelina. You look like a chick in a wig and a dude who doesn’t look like Brad Pitt. Second of all, if you want to have and keep friends, do not flaunt your happiness. We hate that you are together and in love and you must accept that your friends do not feel empathy for your lovely situation. Third of all, if you go as something like a Ying and your girflriend is the Yang, you have to spend every monent with her because if you leave her you just look like a crazy person with an imaginary friend, and you can’t even hit on other girls because she’ll know that the Yang is somewhere behind her, ready to pour punch on her head.

7. DON’T open up your bag of Halloween candy before October 31st:

Yeah, I bought my Halloween candy weeks ago. I sat the bags on the counter and was like “all the children will love this” and then I drank four glasses of wine and said “I’ll just have one candy now” and then by the end of the night I was sitting in a wrapper pile of shame. I had go to the store the next day and buy gross gummy candy because I understand that I have no self-control or respect for myself. Some things you don’t need to learn about yourself.

6. DO hand out raisins and popcorn balls to children

I know, it’s the lamest stuff you can give out. Nobody’s going to like you for it and you won’t be popular anymore. But I want you to seriously think about this. These little sticky fingered brats are knocking on your door asking you to give them your things and you have to because their parents dressed them up in lies. Why should you care if they like you or not? They’re just going to go next door and get a big bar of candy from your creepy neighbor. A little thing called “have you ever tried saving money to buy your own damn candy?” will make a child stronger for this hard world.

5. DON’T think outside the box

You’re right. That Jersey Shore/Lady Gaga/Sarah Palin costume is as original as you thought it was. My eyes are blown away by the creative workings of your topical, hilarious brain. And..no. No. You did not smear red paint on yourself and go as..dead Lady Gaga. I’m dying! This is too good! You, like the octopus who predicted the World Cup, have an uncanny ability to choose between two options nobody has ever thought about before! A vampire?!?!?! I..I didn’t even know people knew what those were anymore!

4. DO upstage the costumes of people with less money than you

You know, you’ve worked hard to graduate from college and get a job. You’re proud of the fact that you’re able to pay your bills, raise a family, and think about the mortgage. So now that you have the money to dress up as Voldemort from the Harry Potter series, you better believe that every high schooler who makes 9.50 at the Scoop’n’Serve isn’t going to have as an elaborate and expensive villian impression as you do. The poor little sap. Anyway, you’re going to go as the guy that spends 400 dollars on a crazy awesome costume rental. The guy that, even though the girl who put on a blazer and a witch was hailed for her Christine O’Donnell impressions, spent a lot of money so is obviously cooler.

3. DON’T expect the pumpkin carving to go well

I want you to look at the pumpkin you have laid out on your table over newspapers. I want you to apologize to it for the surgery massacre you are about to perform on it in order to make it look like it has a face. Than I want you to look at your finger pads. Prepare them to get get stabbed and covered in your blood by accidental knife puncture. Than you may carve your pumpkin, finish half of it it with great detail, get tired and finish in a rush, have it not look like anything, and leave it on your porch till Christmas.

My mother taught me to do this when I was younger, and I took it to heart. I don’t even take candy from her without smashing it and dissecting it first because the woman could be a crazed maniac, waiting and lovingly raising me for years before she snaps with the very trick she taught me to stay away from! And even though I haven’t heard of anything like this happening in decades and poison would really be a smarter way of going about candy-tainting, I keep my guard up. Even if I bought the candy myself. Because somebody once told me that your worst enemy…is yourself. I believe everything I hear.

1. DON’T forget what Halloween is really about

So get your costume ready to ward off evil spirits, brutally slaughter your livestock to the Gods of the other worlds, throw the bones into the flames and have yourself a happy halloween!  Or at least try to learn the Monster Mash. I don’t know how to do the Monster Mash.

Cyborgs are robots with both robotic and biological parts. They are partly human with the mechanical workings of an artificially intelligent creature, and they aren’t just for the Terminator franchise anymore.  How? With the success of movies like The Social Network, Youth in Revolt, and Stutter My Way Into Your Heart, it’s clear that the lovable nerd is here to stay. In a twist that can only be experienced in an M. Night movie, the tan All-American rugby player has taken backseat to the the guys who gets dodgeballs thrown at him in the cafeteria. The hot jock who has frosted hair without the assistance of bleach, the high-fiving business major whose favorite book is Horton Hears a Who, and the six-foot tower of man meat are now forced to share their GQ spreads with the guy who they paid to do their English homework. However, the adorableness that is Jesse Eisenberg and Michael Cera, the officially crowned “King o’ the Nerds” is catching on even beyond the Silver Screen, the SNL Digital Shorts, and anything with Adam Brody. No, these Eisenborgs are creeping into local bars, supermarkets, and internet dating sites, trying to use the recent ‘sexy nerd’ phenomena to their sexiest advantage. It’s the one type of men women find attractive that takes little to no effort on their part. They don’t have to work out! They can download all the indie hits right from the comfort of their own home! It’s all so lovely, but ladies, I want you to heed my warning. The Eisenborg, unlike the actual Eisenberg, lacks one glowing quality that makes the real things that more attractive: a lucrative Hollywood career and millions of dollars in the bank. Now, if you’re asking me truthfully, my type is Jewish nerds. But I want a real nerd, not the second-rate imitations that popped up ever since Arrested Development became such a cult household hit. here are some ways to spot a fraud: 

-When he tries to talk to you in a public forum, he uncomfortably laughs, scratches his head, and softly scolds himself out loud. Jonah Hill is there. He will make a reference to your breasts by accident.

- He thinks it would be fun to have sex without a condom, and he likes when ‘you look like you might be lesbian.”

-He tells you that he found your profile on “The Facebook.”

-The only outfit he wears are corduroys, a button-down and a tie over a peacoat, a sweatshirt.

-His favorite bands are Vampire Weekend, anything with Ben Gibbard, and the Sex “Bombs.”

-He carries a condom in his wallet because he’s actually had sex before.

- His favorite graphic novelist is “the guy who draws Garfield without Garfield.” 

- His mom is a popular female comedian and his dad is another popular male comedian that is currently on SNL.

-His favorite actor is Michael Cera because he has so much artistic range, just like he feels a range of emotion while reading Catcher in the Rye or hanging out with his best friends who used to be in Undeclared.

- He actually liked Youth In Revolt.

-Although he makes many references to being Jewish, when you ask him what his favorite Torah passage is he says “Hannah and Her Sisters.”

Most of us, being past the age of ten, have been doing lots of activities for years. Some things we have even been doing for decades! Most of these things I have lost of experience with I have gotten better at: walking, talking and acting sober at Thanksgiving are three examples. However, there are some things that, time and time again, I cannot master. Nobody can master. They’re menial impossibilities, and I loathe them all:

1. Shaving: 

Every time my lower body starts to look like Teen Wolf, I begrudgingly put my leg on the edge of the tub and prepare myself for the inevitable bloodshed that is about to commence. Because in about three to four minutes, my bathtub is going to look like an SVU crime scene except without the hilarious Ice-T side comments. Shaving is impossible! All right, maybe this is partly my fault. Sometimes I just use a rusty razor that I’ve kept in my bathroom since 1996. And sometimes I use regular Dove soap instead of shaving cream because if I’m in a rush, because shaving cream never washes off and I find it on the back of my knee hours later. Yet, in my defense, even when I do everything right, I find myself slicing open the artery on my thigh as I spurt blood across my Pantene Pro V and curse the day smooth legs became sexy. I become weaker and paler as I use the energy from my last pint of blood to drag the razor agains the last spot of lather, and then I get out of the shower and oh. Great. My ankles and knees are still covered in hair.

2. Flipping an egg:

Why this is so hard, I have no idea. This morning, I cracked an egg in order to create the simplest dish known to mankind- the dish where you take a pan and open an egg in it and that’s it. Except there’s this flipping part. The flipping part happens when I take deep breathes and slowly, as to not disturb the energy of the room, move the spatula towards the egg. I wiggle the utensil underneath the frying egg and whisper ‘i’m sorry i’m sorry’ to my English Muffin that is burning but I am concentrating and can’t save it from the fire pit. I slowly make a motion upwards where it freaks out and slaps itself against the side of the pan and half of it runs down the side and if it’s an omelette. Well. If it’s an omelette it’s going to be delicious but it’s also going to look like a pile of garbage. A pile of garbage who can’t make an omelette! You are what you eat!

3. Wrapping presents:

I know there are some people who hand me these presents that are wrapped up all great and the tape is perfect and I’m like ‘you know what, your gift to me would have been fucking wrapping this gift as shitty as I did so I don’t feel like a child.” Because mine look about as professional as a blind baby monkey’s would. They look terrible. I rip the paper. I have no concept on the correct way to use tape. I cut paper pieces that are too small. Or too big. But instead of cutting it to size i just kind of fold it in. Listen,  I have been giving CD’s and books for presents as years because these are the only things that have a shot of looking like I can use paper products and don’t need to be hospitalized for insanity. Screw you, it’s the thought that counts!

4. Leaving voicemails:

First of all, I don’t like to use the phone in the first place. The whole point of text messages and the Internet is that I have the luxury of thinking before I get a thought out, which is just the opposite of phone conversation. So when it’s “leave a voicemail”  time, I suddenly forget why I was calling, what I had to say, or even who I am. If it’s somebody I want to sleep with or something, the voicemail I will now leave will make them not only want to not call me back, but will also make them check under their bed for years making sure that I’m not under it waiting. I sound insane! I don’t even remember to say my name in the beginning of the message, either. However, when I realize this fact near the end of the message and say “this is alida by the way”, that phrase is followed by such frantic insane laughter the listener is frightened. They are now worried that this isn’t Alida, but somebody who has cut off the face of her and stolen her identity. Which would be crafty!

5. Folding clothes:

Why the hell does ‘one sleeve fold, other sleeve fold, fold that in half’ work sometimes for shirts and not for others? Why do I have to fold anything? Why can’t I just have millions of hangers so I don’t have to spend 30 minutes trying to fold an oxford I don’t even wear like an OCD brain freak? This is exactly the reason I don’t work retail: every time I go into the GAP and unfold a shirt to check out the size of it, I get pee-shy and can’t fold it back right. Later, I get a murderous side-eye from the employee watching me, knowing that I’m just going to put it down wrong and they’re going to have to spend ten minutes trying to fix the mistake the pale little shit in the glasses made.

6. Walking in heels:

This might also be titled “walking.” I think it’s heel toe, heel toe. But I don’t do that. I do the “clomp clomp.” Every time. Why? Because I look hot. You see, nothing turns on somebody more than limping along like a crazy crooked person with bent knees. Nothing is sexier than walking ten feet before grimacing and whining by a mailbox. Nothing is more sensual than taking off your shoes and rubbing down your feet the second you find a chair. 

7. Keeping nail polish on for more than ten minutes:

Now that I have wet polish on my nails, this is obviously the only time I need to stick my hand into a drawer, pick a lock, or just bang my hand against various objects. If the polish survives until the drying stage has commenced, I will no doubt break a nail, chew my polish off like an animal, or blowtorch each individual nail.

8. Composing yourself at weddings:

You might start with pristinely done makeup, a relatively flattering dress, and a bright facade of composure, but by the end of the appetizer course you’ll be a whole new brand of mess. At first, you might just enjoy the feeling of love in the air, the overflowing platters of shrimp cocktail, and the cute little grandmothers wearing sequins. But once that open bar is finally open, you’ll be grinding with the waiter during eighteen different K.C. and the Sunshine band covers and Mulan dishonoring your family. Once you realize that you are single and dancing with your uncle and that whiskey sour would be 12 dollars usually but is free here, you throw away your scraps of dignity along with the salmon dinner. You might cry and clap during the mother-son dance, you might ass grab your eighth cousin twice removed. Who knows? There are so many ways you will embarrass yourself tonight,

9. Eating dinner on a first date: 

I try to wait until somebody has proposed marriage to me before I allow them to see me eat. I am not a good eater. You see, I have this habit of “eating as if somebody’s going to take the plate from me in three minutes and I also want to have a conversation while this happens.” I also tend to pick at my food like a rat. Why take a bite of bread when you can rip the bread into forty six pieces all of which you will dip butter into? Not only that, I become Edward Sloppy Hands and spaghetti just goes wayward all over my mouth and chest. I will not finish the meal with sauce in my mouth, but I will finish it ON my mouth. I will burp ladylike by covering my mouth. This will not be a pleasant experience, so it’s better if we have sex and children before watching me eat tarnishes my reputation forever.

10. Handling your period with grace and dignity: 

When it’s that time of the month, I see no problem with curling up in a ball on the floor. Now’s the time to eat eighteen packets of cookies and choke anybody who comes near your claws. Now’s the time to scream at WE television when they play a repeat of “The Secret Lives of Women.” Now’s the time to break your computer when it plays a song that reminds you of your ex. Even though this part of your life happens EVERY SINGLE MONTH, you better collapse into a ball of sweatpants instead of taking a Midol and go to work. MEN JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND #4%#@($$%#

In a world full of skinny jeans, jeggings, and other flattering forms of pants you paint on yourself, it’s no wonder that lots of people go on diets. Diets make you skinnier and also slightly more miserable/aware of your flaws. Dieting is not for the fat or the skinny, just for people who want to work very hard to seem naturally thin. I went on a diet once, so I respect that. I measured my cereal and then the diet was all like “stop drinking so much vodka is empty calories” and I was like “Empty?! Where else would I get my courage?!?” So I just kind of stopped. Well, I started eating healthier as in some days for lunch I just bury myself in six or seventy pounds of spinach and eat my way free. Anyway, throughout all of my years of eating, counting calories, and just saying ‘fuck it I want to spoon funfetti into me using a squirt gun”  I have read a lot of stuff about dieting. I name some important tips here:

1. Listen to celebrities because celebrities never lie: Ah, yes. Sometimes when I need a good scholarly read at the airport, I pick up a copy of Us Magazine and a dictionary (a lot of that stuff is just beyond me). More times than not, there’s an article or two about Hollywood diet secrets from the world’s tannest and brightest ab stars. And more times than not..celebrities never diet! “I eat what I want. I eat things in moderation but I’m such a fan of pizza I can’t resist pizza and I spoon lard out of the can and wake up with this amazing figure.” Are you kidding me? Every time I read something like this, I feel like I have to personally go to Reese Witherspoon’s house and burn her at the stake because SHE IS A WITCH!!! She is a freak of nature or a youthful demon and I need to beat her until her secrets are revealed. You million dollar bitch, we make our choices: we either eat pizza and look normal, or we eat fist-sized portions of butternut squash and get photographed half-naked for men’s magazines. There is rarely an in between unless if the devil is involved. Which leads me to the celebrity claim of “I’m a curvy girl. I have hips.” Um, where? No. No you don’t. I do not work out with my grandmother’s abandoned Thigh Master so I can have the curvy thighs I already have. Jennifer Love Hewitt, I rip the cover of your Self magazine shoot and burn your face in the flames.

2. Bikini Season is only ____ away: AHH! Bikini season to ladies is like hunting season is to deer: MURDEROUS. For three months out of the year, every girl in the world is required to wear her bra and underwear in public and parade around splashing people and having a fun time. To prepare for this, starting around January 2nd we have to stop eating everything that is good. We have to fear tactic our weight loss by imaging ourselves in the ocean with people pointing and laughing at us. We have to start eating tuna without the mayo. BECAUSE IT IS BIKINI SEASON the time of year where girls go to the ocean and hunters shoot at them.

3. GRILLED CHICKEN: OH HAVE YOU MET GRILLED CHICKEN?! GOOD! EAT IT ALL THE FUCKING TIME! Take a look at that grilled chicken, partner. Because you and that dead piece of bird are going to really get to know each other. You’ll be eating a lot of this chicken, and no, I don’t care if you’re a vegetarian. Chickens DIED FOR YOUR THIN. I want you to take that white plate and put a piece of grilled chicken on it. I want you to take some broccoli and I want you to sprinkle some lemon zest on it because butter sucks. I hate butter because it’s not butter spray. Butter is milk and cream while butter spray is zero calories and just a bunch of spells that fool you into thinking you’re eating food. 

4. LOW-FAT is the real party starter: There was this one time where I tried this thing called Fettucine Alfredo at the Olive Garden. It was my divine point of life: I was 11 years old, so I had no fucking problems. I got handed crayons to color in an olive with a face. And at meals beginning, I got handed a steaming plate filled with pasta cheese and cream. That’s pretty much it. It was an ethereal experience for me, until I realized that like Juliet mused of Romeo, if I was to be with my love I would end up poisoned and bloated. Thus, when I was old enough to start dieting, I began to use ‘low-fat sour cream’ as the distant memory cousin of fat and good times. It kind of tastes like yogurt with salt in it, but who cares? A little bit of roasted garlic and sour cream and skim milk and laughing cow low calorie cheese blocks melted in and..it tastes just like..the reall….I’m sorry I’m crying. I can’t go on. But seriously, low fat food is so delicious. I actually really like to put cardboard on my health bread instead of cheese because come on, that’s way better.

5. Here are some things that show off my counting skills and I am allowed to eat:

6-8 almonds. 2 cups low-fat popcorn. 1/20th of a slice of cheesecake. 2 stares of cotton candy. 16 Oreo wishes. 3 slices of paper you have drawn a cupcake on. 47 seconds of holding hands with a large jar of olive oil than breaking up with it. PILES OF ALL SORTS OF FISH.

6. Water is your friend: Well, I don’t really like drinking water. I know there are some people who do, and I say ‘what are you a fish?!?!’ because I’m really bad at insults. Anyway, there’s lots of tips like drink 8 glasses of water a day to which i’m like so a shower counts for about 6 of those right?’ The worst tip of all is when they tell me to sip water between bites. Um, have you ever seen me eat, diet? I just kind of shovel and breathe through my nose. Shovel and breathe, shovel and breathe. This tip also goes for ‘wait 20 minutes after a bite so you’ll see how full you are.’ This does not work for me because I like to play the ‘eat as many tacos as you can in 20 minutes until your stomach is like ‘oh wow you have reached new levels of pain.” 

7. Heed friendly reminders:

If you eat less, your torso will grow very very long and you will start wearing ugly ruffle skirts. You will also dare me to tell you that you resemble Kristen Stewart, but are probably too high to respond to the accusation.

8. Jenny Craig is one crazy bitch so bow down: 

 I guess Jenny is kind of the Xenon to weight-loss. She’s like, this magical being that takes B-list celebrities and makes them talk about how they never thought they’d eat brownies again until they met her. I know there are dark forces around her, because the commercials advertising Craig are always like “lose 20 for 20 dollars (PLUS THE COST OF FOOD)” and nobody ever really knows how great and dark that cost may be.

9. Eat like a foreign person:

The French smoke 46 cigarettes a day before they eat one extremely rich pastry. The Spanish fish for themselves and Asians use tiny pieces of wood to slowly bring rice to their mouths. Who cares if these are just massive stereotypes?!?! Americans eat like big old idiots, and if we do not stop eating like one we will grow overweight and die.

10. HEROIN

Listen, eat in moderation or some shit. Go for a run. Feel pretty fucking good if you’re doing what makes you happy. Cream cheese, whiskey, OR diet soda. Diet or don’t diet, at least have a drink.

THIS IS HOW I SUCK OUT YOUR SOUL!! 

You will need:

-yourself

-another person, something that substitues for another person, three to sixty other people

Prep Time: 

-it depends on who you are. Sometimes this means four years of amicable courting and a 30,000 dollar religious ceremony that forces people to choose between salmon, chicken, and an artful stack of vegetables. Sometimes this means eight whiskey sours and shaved legs. Or it could mean two whiskey sours, six steamy makeout sessions and the confidence to ‘make your own decisions about when the right time is.’

Cooking Time:

HA. As if I could tell you.

Directions:

(for this recipe I am using self and one other person of same or different gender)

-Preheat oven. To do this, you must stare at the person you would like to bed and send lusty mindwaves to them with secret messages like “my underwear is clean and naughty” and “once we do this I forge an emotional attachment to you and my texting will increase. LOL IF THIS MEANS NOTHING TO YOU THO.” Be aware of the fact that you can hear yourself swallow and that the person you are sitting next to can hear you swallow as well so now you’re worried that they know you’re nervous.

-Excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. Check to see if your hair is nice and try to pee really hard so you don’t have to like, leave in the middle to pee or something. Not that that’s ever happened or is possible, but like, when I have to go to the bathroom I REALLY have to go to the bathroom!

-Try to walk like an attractive person might walk, but instead don’t. Kind of collapse yourself onto the person of interest in an attempt to surprise make out with them like that whole act wasn’t planned or anything.

-When you climb onto somebody much like a koala bear climbs onto whatever kind of fucking trees koalas climb on, it shows how ready for hard makin’ out you are.

-So now you, make out really hard. Don’t worry, we’ll get to the dirtier stuff soon. I guess some signals to show you are ready for more than kissing are: pay attention to the neck. The neck is right under the head so it shows how convenient this whole scenario is. Place hands on chest but not lower because you are not a slut. Giggle and shit. You’re cute and dammit, you’ll let the room know it!

-When other person suggests ‘perhaps we should take this to another room’ be all like ‘whaaaaaaa?!?! I’m so coy! What do you mean by this? You Tarzan, Me confused?!?!” But then walk all excited to the other room which is the bedroom.

-So here, you’re standing by a bed and have broken some momentum. That’s okay. Just go back to face smashing and oh man, have you ever kissed somebody and you hear them breathe through their nose and it’s like..oh wow that sounded weird?! No?

-Awkwardly fall onto bed. If it’s your bed, you should leave little surprises on the bed like thumbtacks and Hershey’s Kisses because sex can be a delicious or painful experience and I love metaphors.

-Fumble with clothes. Okay, so if you’re a guy, you have these buttons on your jeans that are hidden beneath another flap of fabric. This means that everybody has trouble removing said pants. It’s like, I got one button! But there’s two more! If you’re a girl, you’re wearing about thirty different things on your bottom half. Crazy belts, shoes that tie around your ankle, regular tights over fishnet tights, rompers, and hopefully not wallet chains. I’m going to be honest with you, at the end of the day I sometimes have trouble undressing myself. So when you and your lovah first start out like ‘taking clothes off is fun and easy’ you will eventually break out into the same hot sweat you feel when you’re worried that you’re stuck in a shirt in the dressing room.

- Kick the last bit of pants off your ankles like a horse digging into dirt.

-VICTORY! Well, now you better roll around making out more so you can confirm that you both like each other.

-Now it’s time for foreplay, which is what you do when you’re tired of kissing and rolling around in sheets and your hands get bored. But listen- I don’t really want to talk about crotches. What you people do with your crotches on your own time is none of my business. If you want to treat them like babies treat cookies and grab at them and put them in your mouth, who am I to stop you? Ugh. Here’s my best piece of advice when it comes to foreplay: treat it like you’re brushing your teeth. If you’ve sang ‘happy birthday’ in your head twice and it still doesn’t feel finished, I guess keep working at it until the spinach comes out of your teeth. No. Treat foreplay like the bus in Speed: if you go too fast and hard with it, it’ll explode and you’ll be like ‘well now I’m just left with Keanu Reeves and nothing to talk about.’

-Well, if one of you needs to wear a condom, put one on now. Try not to use one of those condoms that are obviously free and passed out at college events because you should look like you buy these things ahead of time. Condoms are funny because they are like octopus gloves!

-Turn on da sex playlist. Some good sex songs are any song by Shaggy, classical music and Toni Braxton. You must put music on, or else you will just be able to hear all the gross squish noises you are about to make.

-Now intercourse may commence. If you’re in missionary, you must pray to whatever God you worship during the course of it. If you’re on top, you must wear a bra so things don’t get crazy and if you are acting like a dog you must not call it doggy style because puppies don’t deserve the smear on their dignity you are no doubt giving them. 

-If you do like it, you should say things like “Yes!” like the band or the one word agreement. If you sort of like it, you should say things like “Yes” without the exclamation point. “Right there” is something you say when you spot that earring you lost on the floor, and “Fuck Yes” is something you say when you finally find that book you thought you lost. 

-If you feel the need to talk dirty, say things like “my body is mud and you are getting ALL OVER MY HARDWOOD” or “I’M A VACUUM CLEANER AND YOU’RE CAT HAIR ON A CLEAN WHITE COUCH.” I’m sure you understand what I mean. 

- Okay, so the goal of sex is this: put an uncooked hot dog into a Funnel. Now roll around your bed for 8-10 minutes in all sorts of crazy motions and make sure that the hot dog never moves from Funnel. I’ll take a moment for you to be really turned on by this statement.

-At this point, after you have an orgasm, you become Meg Ryan and the woman at the deli says to the waiter “I’ll have what she’s having.”

-An orgasm for a woman is like getting away with sneaking into the men’s bathroom when there’s a line for the woman’s bathroom. See? That’s just my negative Cosmo influence! I have orgasms all the time and I can’t control them! Oh no that’s my medical drama influence. I think that was on Grey’s Anatomy. 

-Now you must pant a lot and pretend like you are not disgusted by sweat. Touch your hair and realize all the bobby pins you carefully put in it are now all around the bed and your hair looks like crap. Your makeup looks like shit. Smile like this is a great thing.

-Maybe now you fall asleep. Maybe now you want to go get some water and text your friend “SO WHAT HAPPENED ON GILMORE GIRLS?” But either way, now you have to find your clothes in a pile of one sock here, one sock there. Your underwear is twisted and in the other side of the room! If I try to do this in the dark, I’ll put my clothes inside out and if I try to do this in the light, you will see a weird birthmark or maybe a bit of cellulite! I’ve never felt so naked because I am naked!

-Drink a lot of water, go to the bathroom and try to unsmudge your eyeliner. 

-Now you must do a lighthearted activity together like watch Sister, Sister.

-This is everything you’ve dreamed of. Take a long shower and relish in the joy of things going in or around other things.

Serving Size:

One, two, or the entire viewing audience of “Under a Tuscan’s Buns” and other porn movie parodies. 

I’m heading out tonight to stare at people, find bathrooms to pee in, and try to secretly adjust my tights in public. It’ll be a rocking time I’m sure, but Saturdays never fail to remind me how much more fun I have before or after going out than actually being out. These things are better than a night of bars and parties: 

-pre-gaming with six cups of red wine because nobody really should order wine at a bar. Blessed be the eight dollar bottle of Yellowtail Shiraz.

-deciding in your head the outfit that you will wear before you put it on, find out that the ‘brain you’ looks way better in this outfit AND has shinier hair.

-throwing all of your clothes into a big pile on your bed because you are mad at your outfits. Promising that you will clean the mess off when you get home, which really means you are going to faceplant yourself onto the only clean clothes in your room when you get home.

-finally deciding on the outfit you wore last week because all black is very slimming and almost French kind of.

-admiring your makeup before it melts off into a puddle of embarrassment and smudges by the time you get home.

-coming home and seeing how terrible you look when you are drunk but this makes you laugh into the mirror because who gives a shit I feel great!

-trying to make nachos but dropping the cheese block, microwaving a plastic plate, spilling salsa into your open utensil drawer, using half the sour cream, and dropping most of the meal on your dress.

-taking half your outfit off for a sweatshirt top but leaving your tights on without pants.

-pouring yourself another glass of wine because you think you’ll actually drink it but no, you’ll take two sips and wonder where your life is going.

-staring at an infomercial while the room spins a bit because you don’t want to wash your face and brush your teeth.

Anywaayyyy…I’m really writing because I need your help for a big project The Frenemy has coming up. It’s exciting! It’s huuuge! I need you to send me your 21st birthday stories. Anything and everything, good or bad, funny or embarrassing…send to

IAMTHEFRENEMY@GMAIL.COM

To those who are brave enough to send, I toast this half (okay all) filled glass of vino to you!

1. “I’ve never felt this way before.” 

C’mon…yes you have. I know that you’re telling me this because you’re super super excited about the guy or girl who took you out to a generic pasta restaurant and wore a peacoat, but don’t try to fool me with your lies. Saying something like “this is basically the first time I’ve ever experienced emotion” is your way of saying “please gush over my story so you can see how my iron heart is melting.” I’m not saying that you don’t like them, but don’t try to trick me into thinking that this is THE ONE and I have to arrange a bachelorette party and flowers and shit for your devoted ass. Because you’re 20. And he probably might break up with you. And you used this phrase with your last boyfriend, and he broke up with you for videogames.

2. “If there wasn’t (insert person or obstacle here) I would have kicked her ass.”

Well, you’ve never gotten into a fist fight, have you? Because when you really want to turn somebody’s face into shepard’s pie, it doesn’t matter if there’s a pack of policeman or an angry tiger colony in front of the dumb acrylic bitch. You’re going to whack at her with your little manicure paws until somebody larger holds you back or you find a knife to throw at her neck veins. And that gaping wound will remind her whose best friend you shouldn’t be calling a skank. So when you tell me that you would have gone all crazy up in this place, I don’t believe you because you are wearing pink and the only thing on your record is a big smiley face stamp. You have a Burberry purse, for fuck’s sake.

3. “I am above all the drama.”

You know what kind of people say this kind of crap? People who love to post passive-aggressive statuses (stati?) on Facebook. People who go to the mall to make fun of the friends that aren’t there buying Express tops with them. People who talk shit. For example, I don’t hate drama. I love drama. Because I think that drama is a genre. I do not think drama is “why Kiely talked smack about Kelsey when you KNOW she is the bigger bitch in this situation,” because I’ve read all of Shakespeare and not just in Spark Notes and I appreciate the written word. So when you tell me that you don’t know why some girls are always in the drama, I say to myself “well this girl is going to call me fat while she irons her hair straight and wears a halter top.” But whatever: she does not get involved. 

4. “I hate liars and fake people and I don’t need them in my life.” 

This is kind of a deviation of the previous phrase because the same kind of girl usually ends up saying it. Anyway, I have a newsflash for you: this phrase goes without saying! It’s a given! What kind of people are all like “yeah liars are pretty much my people. I love when people lie to me because it’s like the surprise party of language! I love betrayal!” And what the hell does “fake people” mean? Is it like..dolls? Do you hate dolls? That’d be okay, I guess. Dolls are really kind of creepy because they always stare and they have dead people souls in them. Horror movie FACT.

5. “Literally”

I’m sorry, but nobody gets this one. It’s used as inappropriately as Alanis Morrisette’s “Ironic” as in: not right at all. Do you know how many people have said to another friend when they saw their ex-boyfriend at the same party ” I LITERALLY had a heart attack”? Answer: a lot. And nobody’s like “oh my gosh are you okay? Does your diet need to change? Should you be sitting right now? Did you see Jesus?!” Because that means you had a fucking heart attack! It means it really happened! Literally means true, not exaggeration! SAT’s for the win! Anyway, just like “there were literally, like, millions of people there” means “there was about 86 people in my house,” using a word to exaggerate a concept by misusing the real definition of the word..well, that doesn’t work. It LITERALLY just doesn’t!

6. “We hooked up”

I mean, I’m glad that you are getting it on with somebody. Really. I’m happy for you. But the problem here is that I don’t know how much or how little you’re getting it on with somebody. Because ‘hooking up’ means anything from kissing a bit in your car to doing the dirty on a futon in the basement. And while we’ve all happily accepted this vague definition, if somebody tells me ‘they hooked up’ it means that I am going to have to follow that with “so what’d you guys do?!” and you will have to now clarify the sexual acts you have experienced. Which means that the first declaration of “we hooked up” is extraneous and unnecessary. And less is more. Just tell me what you did. Got it? Good.

7. “Do you want to hear something crazy/weird/amazing?” 

Again, this is the kind of sentence that is completely extraneous. Like, if I say yes, you’ll be like “oh I wasn’t listening because I’m going to tell you anyway.” And if say no, you’ll be like “well I’m going to tell you anyway.” And then you’ll tell me. And it’s not even going to BE that crazy or weird. It’s going to be something pretty average that happens but it’ll involve somebody we know so I guess I’ll be more invested in the story. Just tell me the story. Don’t ask questions. Believe me, I won’t either.

8. “God, I feel fat today…!!……..?”

Wellllll. So listen. I am your friend. I cannot tell you that the striped sweater dress you wore makes your body look like a piece of candy corn. In fact, I don’t want to tell you that. Because when you wear something that doesn’t look like an afghan from hell, you have a great figure. And I don’t want to think otherwise, although that dress is really stupid looking on you. And not only that, but I really do like giving compliments when somebody isn’t sitting on their dock fishing for them. If we’re friends, I think you are pretty. If I think you look especially pretty, I will tell you. Case cah-losed.

9. “Did you like (insert lover here)?!” 

Yes. Yes. I loved him. He’s great. Because if I don’t say I like him, you’re going to launch at me like a bat and attach onto my face and rip my eyes out. You’re going to defend the person you don’t know OVER the person who will hold your head in their bosom when you cry after he betrays you. It’s new, I understand. So even if he called me a heffer sandwich whore who will die in a pile of cats and couches, I have to pretend I think he’s great. Because you need to learn these things on your own damn time. And if I don’t agree right now, you will eat my soul and I just don’t need that.

10. “What do you want to do tonight?!” 

I DON’T KNOW I WILL AGREE WITH WHATEVER YOU SAY! I SAY “I DONT KNOW” EVERY TIME JUST SAY FUCKING ANYTHING I WILL AGREE.

With all the awesome drunk e-mails I’ve been getting, it’s comforting to know that there’s a whole lot of you out there who, like me, live lives of shame and regret one gin and tonic at a time. However, besides the prominent use of my favorite words “whiskey” and “bitchy”, I’ve been getting more horror dating stories than I can count on six of my hands alone. Most of these stories would make Cosmopolitan fans blush from the bottom of their stilettos all the way up to the ‘new eyeshadow colors for fall!” But I dig them. Anyway, if you guys have all these mishaps going on, the only logical thing to do would be to give you all my great dating tips. You’re welcome, in advance:  

1. Choose the right outfit: 

If you’re going on a first or second date, you might want to do your grandma proud and not put all your little whore chips on the whore table. Of course, after six or seven gimlets later, you’re usually tempted to try and repeat that one magical Taylor Swift song about the relationship that started with dry humping in a bar bathroom. So you need to be prepared for the crumbling logic. Anyway, try to dress in things that are hard to take off- I like clothes that are made entirely of winding zippers, locks and bolts. Sometimes I wear fishnet tights underneath overalls. If you’re one of those tricky little insistent bitches, try to wear an article of lingerie that you’d be embarrassed to be seen in. Buy a pair of underwear that says MARRY ME! with the name of your date in your own blood. Wear a breast-feeding bra. A bra made of bologna. Whatever will terrify you enough to keep your clothes on. Scare tactics work- my DARE officer beat me down with staggering statistics and I’ve never smoked a marijuana stick in my life.

2. Tell as many white lies as you can: If you haven’t heard of the band or haven’t seen the movie, who gives a shit? Everybody knows the biggest deal breaker of all is when somebody hasn’t gotten around to seeing a movie you have casually mentioned to them. That’s why it’s just better to pretend you seen it. There are so many books out there, maybe I did read it and just don’t remember! If you didn’t keep me so busy with this date, I’d probably be reading it anyway, book hater! It’s better that you lie because it also motivates you go and do things like listen to music! It’s understandable to lie about these things, in fact, there have been times I have kicked people out of my house when they’re waiting for The Social Network to come out on DVD. Why would you wait, moron? The Internet is ever-changing!

3. Use some discretion:

When somebody who finds you attractive wants to get to know you, I urge you to remember that they don’t want to get to know you, they want to get to know the you that they want to sleep with. So it’s better off if you don’t reveal the things about your personality that make people not want to do this. Sleep first, trap later. These things include but are not limited to: funny times you have thrown up in public, the issues you have with your father, the issues you have with your ex, the amount of times you cry yourself to sleep during infomercials, what fan fiction you read. I actually try never to speak. I smile, I nod, and fiddle with my hair or breasts.

4. Drink your personality:

Like they say, you are what you drink. I am ‘everyday’, ‘a lot’ and ‘secretly’ because my drink of choice is excess! However, I usually like to hide these parts of myself from guys I first meet, which is why I choose my poison very carefully. For example, show a potential mate how laid-back you are about fall and order a pumpkin-flavored beer. Show how you enjoy watching all The Real Housewives by drinking a glass of white wine and popping some Xanax at dinner. Drinking vodka from a water bottle is a great way to show how you are perpetually sixteen, and nothing says “I’m going to go act like I don’t do this, but I’m going to go home with you” than a frozen daiquiri. Choose wisely.

5. Be enthusiastic about any similarities you have

No way, dude. Green is your favorite color too you want to travel to Europe you like an old pair of jeans the smell of gasoline petting dogs laughter and rain too?! This is just like fate. I’ve never met anybody who liked to eat before, so I better act like this is the coolest coincidence ever that makes me assume we are definitely perfect for each other. Let the connection commence!

6. Cross your legs

The reigning queen of sexy sitting positions, nothing says “I’m listening to what you say but I can look hot while doing it” more than crossing your legs! Don’t put your hand on your chin though, what are you, a thinking kind of nerd?!

7. Share one story about your childhood in order to look like you’re revealing something about yourself:

When I was six, I used to have this dream that I was flying but then my grandmother  taught me how to make these cookies and my dog ate them all and this is an obscure way to reveal that I have had a very layered past that you might be interested in exploring more.

8. I am the best ________ in the world!

If you’re going to impress them, you better exaggerate some minute accomplishments! Did you know that I am the best foosball player IN THE WORLD? That I am the best snow angel maker IN THE WORLD?! DID YOU?! DID YOU!?

9. Eat like a person.

Whenever I go out to eat with somebody, I try to remember that he’s not the same as a television. Usually, I am eating my marinara in front of a reality TV show and therefore can shove spaghetti sloppily down my throat like my mouth is the suction of a vacuum cleaner. However, this isn’t always the best idea when you are out with somebody. Try to use a fork, or even a knife if you are so inclined. Chew and swallow. Wipe your mouth with a napkin and not your hands. I know, I know, they’re like napkins made of flesh. Try to refrain. Remember- this is the first time in weeks you don’t have to use a microwave. Relish and enjoy the moments.

10. Think about all the relationships that have gone wrong for you in the past. Think about why they went wrong. Become convinced this is how this new person will treat you. Act like an insane person. Never forget.

11. Ask them about their favorite murder. IF HE ANSWERS RUN

MISTAKE: JUST THIS SCENE LOL

When I was a kid, I was taught that you shouldn’t touch fire. I didn’t actually learn this lesson, though, until I put my sticky stupid baby hand on the stove. And it really fucking hurt, so I stopped doing it. This is the kind of mistakes you learn from through experience. Later on in life, somebody told me I shouldn’t murder somebody. I’ve never done it, because it’s the kind of mistake you learn without experience. And then there are the mistakes I make time and time again, always regret, and never ever stop making. Rihanna says it’s because I like the way it hurts:

1. Clear Rum: The only people that really and truly enjoy Bacardi White Rum are people that are underaged and still in college. Enjoy it while you can, sister. The first time I over did it on some sort of fruit punch and rum concoction was the first time I literally stuck my entire head in the toilet and tried to climb through the pipes as it could have possibly been a portal to the past. I would find the me of two hours ago and punch her in the stomach until she promised not to have that last shot of rum. The next morning, I just thought about the smell of rum And I projectile vomited my feelings and my kidneys at squirrels and other small moving targets. I told all my facebook friends “No MORE RUM LOL” yet two years later, I was shoving my face into a garbage can trying to read the thrown out school paper in it in order to pass the time between wretches. Lesson learned? For now!

2. Ordering a salad/the vegetable sandwich with mozzarella cheese and pesto at a restaurant: Whenever I go to lunch, I always scan the menu for something that says “mac and cheese” “lots of fucking cheese” or “avocado with who gives a shit what else.” Yet somehow, I always end up ordering the salad with maybe tuna tartare if my mom is paying, the orange vina-regret, and the LBS. O’ BIBB LETTUCE. If I’m feeling carb wild, I always get that ciabatta sandwich with the huge slimy slice of mozz and some grilled eggplant tongues. I never like it, but why order something you like? You’re watching your figure! BUT I’M NOT EVEN. I’m just going to go home and secret eat, anyway. 

3. THOSE FUCKING SHOES: You know the shoes. They are such cute shoes and they look great on you. And just when you think they are as into you as you are them, they rip your foot skin off until it gets all red and wet and you limp around like a crazy person and your feet are ugly for a week afterwards. Yet, when that other right outfit comes along, you pull them out of your closet, wiping your blood off the patent leather and surrounding your feet with about three boxes of bandages. You have hope. All the bandages fall off and you die of pain.

4. The terrible idea: I get it. He was in a band. His name is Scoot and he looks like a vampire because he has been “jamming in his basement for three years straight.” He has a colorful tattoo of a radio and a piece of steak. Her name is Has-been. She has thick red framed glasses and plays the Speak and Say in a local Brooklyn band. His name is Zap. He paints Norman Rockwell photographs but adding images of dead people and images of war. These people are never good choices. You know they’re just going to ask you for rent money and “where to get a good high around here.” But they are so cute! I mean, if I didn’t get herpes from Jumpy, why should I get it from Leap? 

5. Watching the scene where Bambi’s mom gets shot, Mufasa dies, or “that’ll do, pig.”: Oh sure, I might have to go out and have un-waterproof mascara on, but I’d really like to get my heart ripped out of my chest and have it stomped on by a bunch of fake fucking animals first.

6. Yeah, I can totally survive on 2 hours of sleep: I know it’s a Tuesday at 1am, but it’s not like this episode of Sister Wives is going to watch itself! Oh look, it’s 9am! Now I will be a miserable bitch today!

7. That movie, that restaurant, that bar: I know making decisions is hard. I know this because I try to never make them. I whine continuously until somebody finally says “fuck you we’ll..” and they’ll just make the decision for me. Because every time I decide on Chinese, I realize I don’t even want Chinese and I spend the whole dinner screaming at my weird creepy MSG filled vegetable eggroll. There’s no eggs in here! I hate Big Daddy! Put on something else! I’m not indecisive, I just choose to judge your choices instead!

8. The red-tinted brunette hair dye: Chocolate Cherry is never the color you wanted. Never. Why? Because it’s a gross nasty candy, too.

9. Looking at pictures of your ex’s new girlfriend: She’s prettier than you, isn’t she? Skinnier? Holy shit this picture actually looks like she’s funnier than me! Nope. That’s just your masochistic insanity speaking. Because she is wearing a sherpa lined hoodie. And her favorite book is Sweet Valley High: What’s This Plot? Just…back away from the Facebook. Put the gun down.

10. Not taking that umbrella. Taking that umbrella. It’ll rain. No it won’t.

                     This phone might be ancient but the sentiment isn’t!

Even though I’m still in my early twenties, I’m already scared of the younger female generation. When I was thirteen, I wore little butterfly clips in my hair and had a huge crush on Sean Hunter. If my parents saw me drooling over 25 year-old high schoolers like Chuck Bass, they would have installed a chastity belt under my Animaniacs underwear immediately. But that’s not my point. What really freaks me out about the tweens of today is the wealth of technology they have access to. I had AOL dial up. They have I-Phones. And what gets me is, like Miley “Lolita” Cyrus,  this will will make them lose their childlike innocence much faster than I did. I blame this mostly on the text message. You know why? Because the text message has destroyed romance for everybody. If the text message was a tiny Italian actor, it would be Joe Pesci in Goodfellas because it really fucks you up. Don’t believe me? Let me explain:

1. Want to keep it quiet? Too fucking bad!

Nothing warrants a shit-eating grin more than meeting a cute person you want to make out with on a possibly consistent basis. You go to work hungover, you get yelled at by your boss, your sandwich spills all over your smug little lap, and you’re still wearing this dumb-ass grin like a baby who just rubbed cake all over its cheeks. You’re on the crowded subway smiling at crackheads because your I-Pod shuffled to a romaaaantic song. You suck, and you know it. Anyway, finding somebody you like is kind of like holding a bubble. You know you’re going to fuck it up, either for you or some child. So perhaps you try to stay quiet. Guess what? You’re not and it’s because of texting. Maybe it’s at the bar, maybe it’s at lunch with a friend, but when you hear the phone vibrate you grab at it like a begging dog. You smile at your phone like it’s living and just tried to convince you that Hereafter will be a good movie. Your friends will watch you grin at your Droid, they’ll catch on, and they’ll shove a few drinks in you. Thirty texts/minutes later you’ll be deciding with your pals whether or not a farm wedding is a good idea or not.

2. Sexting. 

As a lovely reader e-mailed me, “sexting is not everybody’s cup of tea.” Good point, but I think she was being a little generous because sexting is nobody’s cup of tea. Well, I take that back. It’s exactly what cups of tea are useful for- keeping boring people awake. I’m not a big advocate of any kind of technology sex but this one could be the worst. You see, I’ve never thought that waiting a couple of minutes for a sexy response, laboriously typing out the next move, and substituting “r” for “are” ever turned me on. “I want you so bad” might sound like you can’t  but mostly it just means “The place I am currently at is boring so I have to distract myself from these conversations.” Maybe you’re reading something on your phone that is “sexy”, but your significant other is probably just sick of hearing their boss talk about “that hilarious Jay Leno.”

3. Hangovers just got worse

If Ke$ha is singing about it, it must be relevant, so when she laments how she will “get her drunk text on and regret it in the morn,” I know there is such an intense shift in the culture paradigm I must write about it. Anyway, I can relate. I’ve talked about it before, and I’ll write about it again. Nothing is worse than waking up and seeing I wWf3 f YOU! to the one person you intended to hide your relentless drinking from until they were too invested to leave you. Nothing.

4. Let me tell you the worst about myself now

Texting is kind of like the tracking device I was always afraid the CIA was keeping under my car when I made a harmless joke about hurting the president. I’m excited to get to know you, too. I want to know what you’re doing when you’re not with me, but if I’m being honest, I’d rather imagine it. It’s the dreaded “what are you doing?” thing that really gets me because it’s a Catch-22 dirty nasty trap. If i tell them “I’m not wearing pants, eating salt, and watching A&E” you’ll know the true me that even my parents can’t face. If I try to make up something cool like “I’m at an art museum wearing ALL AMERICAN APPAREL” you’ll think that I want to do stuff other than eating pounds of sodium on a Thursday evening. If I don’t respond, you’ll think I’m uninterested! And that’s not the only worst part. Having a text conversation is not only the most boring  yet addictive hours of your day, there really is no good way to end it. Everybody has time to text! It’s the only time that a one- word answer, or even a one letter answer “k” doesn’t always end the conversation! It could go on for days and days! The problem with this is you usually don’t text people to this extreme unless you don’t really know them. There really isn’t an extended text conversation you can have unless if it’s just to banter about things that you like with somebody trying to get to know you. Again, it also reveals a lot of things you can’t hide. Like the fact that I make a lot of terrible puns, or think The Village was the greatest comedy of our time. But that’s all they know! It makes everybody seem quirky or insane. And just like you can’t get to know anybody twelve words at a time, you can’t get to know anybody well 12 words at a fucking time.

5. Dignity Loss!

For one thing, I’ve walked into traffic, bumped into people, and lost track of a conversation while checking my texts on more than one occasion. So there’s that. But as another reader put it, “I hate it when girls think about texting a guy again because he never responded to their first text. No, a catastrophic event did not happen to disrupt him from receiving or replying! Plain and simple: He didn’t text you back.” Although this made total sense when I read it, it kind of reminded me of how much I don’t always see this logic. The truth is, if somebody hasn’t returned my phone call, I probably won’t call them back if I’ve already left a message. The same does not work when I think about texting. I don’t see a problem in texting twice, maybe three times if there’s Absolut involved. All it does is solidify what I already knew from the first lack of response: he or she is not going to get back to me. It’s done. This person doesn’t have “a long day at work.” This person did not “lose their phone charger.” We know what really happened in the back of our stupid minds. And all another text message with a ? or a ?? does is make me feel more embarrassed at the rejection the next time I bump into them. Look at it this way: you know how easy it is to respond to a text message from somebody you like? And you know how you read texts from people you don’t give a shit about and put your phone down without responding? YEP. Do yourself a dignity favor, phone a friend and make yourself a strong drink or something with cheese. Leave the T-9 alone.

Last night, I mentioned that I would go out to bars with my friend Amanda and try out some “fun fearless” tips to meeting men. Well, it didn’t go well. 

Lesson #1: Don’t use idiotic pickup lines

For one thing, Amanda and I didn’t really remember any of the tips we had read from Cosmopolitan except: “If he’s wearing a NASCAR cap, approach him with ‘I noticed your hat. Are you into racing?’ It’s an opener that seems natural, not contrived.” Anyway, we spent a good long while trying to find a guy with a stupid cap so we could tell him we had noticed it. And when we couldn’t we had to leave the creative pickup lines to our own devices, which was kind of like leaving behind a safety net made of glass shards. Anyway, we discovered that ‘hi’ would have to do, which is a word most commonly used as a greeting or introduction in American culture. Oddly enough, this common phrase brought us to another problem.

Lesson #2: Go to a place where hearing and sight are possible

Once we decided to use the ‘hello’ as a way to strike up a conversation, we suddenly realized that are eyes weren’t on ecstasy after all: we were in a place where there were strobe lights and relative darkness instead of dignified normal light. Kind of like a scary haunted house..of sex! Every man that we saw who might be interesting looked like a wild and crazy shadow! Now the lights are blinking! Now it’s dark! There he is! Where’d he go? When we tried to talk to people, pesky Top 40 got in the way because everybody knows it’s not enough to hear Rihanna sing in the background, she has to scream over the entire bar. That way we can all enjoy her regardless of hearing capacity. This usually meant most conversations went like this: “What’s your name?” CALL ME RUDE BOY BOY  “What’d you say?” WAKE UP THE MORNING FEELING LIKE P. DIDDY “I guess this song is okay!” Amanda and I had to rely on our animal senses of smell and touch. Like bats or raccoons or blind people with hands.

Lesson #3: A lot of people have bizarre mating rituals

I guess when men are on the prowl for another woman, they release a strong spray of Axe and Old Spice deodorant. Smelled from thousands of feet away, the male uses this musky gym scent to bring woman closer to their pelvic region so that woman may rub their bottoms against it. This was previously referred to as dancing, but is now just the precursor to making out. Making out in public is okay if you are dancing because music can really move a lot of people to experience strong emotions. Dancing while making out also hides that you are making out because it looks like you are dancing! It’s like becoming invisible by placing your hands over your eyes.

Lesson #4: If you aren’t dressed up, you aren’t dressed at all.

When it comes to choosing an outfit, Amanda and I thought the best route was wearing things like jackets because it’s October and it’s fucking cold. Boy were we wrong! Turns out, every Saturday night turns into summer and you have to dress in an outfit that is less modest than a towel. Why? Because you’re wearing lots of necklaces, of course! It’s a FANCY ACCESSORIZED TOWEL! We also thought that wearing things that looked nice on us and flattered our body types would be a smart move. Fooled us twice! Turns out, you must wear outfits that are tight. Not form fitting: tight. You are a human hotdog. A hotdog made of humans instead of dogs. Dress accordingly. 

Lesson #5: Abandon all your manners! Shoot your manners in the face!

Example one: We met the peacoat-wearing band douchebags that promised us their music sounded like “Maroon 5 and One Republic. Have you heard of those bands?” To which we replied “marry us now you talents!” At this point, we didn’t want to spend any more time with their lip rings and popped collars, and they didn’t want to spend any more time with our reasonable ears. However, instead of saying something like “good bye” they looked over our heads, stopped feigning interest, and waited five minutes to make an elaborate excuse to go to the bathroom. We waited around for hours and hours because they promised to come back! We’re still there! Whatever, New Aged Balls or whatever you were called, maybe I’ll buy your single on CDBABY but no I won’t. Example two: no personal space, here! Better just go up to somebody and start dancing! Even though Amanda was sitting, birthday boy James gracefully tried to grind against her knees like they were two dwarf bottoms. He kissed me on the cheek, though, because we go back for nanoseconds and nanoseconds! A time was had by all. 

Lesson #6: Stare. Stare. Stare.

That’s all you fucking do. Walk around so you can shake your hips and hold your drink. Stand in a spot. Stare at people. Keep staring. The kind of stare that makes you look like you’re going to follow somebody into a parking lot. Stare more. Maybe they’ll approach you because you are staring. Walk and stare, much like a sheep or a cow.

Lesson #7: Be a superficial piece of shit.

With all that staring, you don’t have much room to be a nice and sensitive human being. Remember how much you would get mad if somebody judged you solely on your looks? Remember how people are more than their faces and stuff? No, you don’t. Because today, you are judging people on looks alone. Why do I know this? Amanda and I went into the girl’s bathroom and asked women what made them approach men. They said “Look good. Be a bitch and look good. Make sure they look good.” Then she told me she had an orgasm when she peed a minute ago, which I guess was pretty impressive. When I asked another if they cared about personality, she said “No! NO! That comes like, fourth.” That was when me and Amanda ripped out our brains and threw them on the floor and filled our caved-in heads with judgmental eyes.

Lesson #8: Maybe next weekend, stay home.

The most important lesson of all.

A reader named Liz sent me a fascinating Cosmopolitan article called “20 Fun, Fearless Ideas To Help You Meet A Man.” This article was very useful to me because I need Cosmo’s help in all sorts of ways. I wouldn’t even know how to go to the bathroom or brush my teeth without Cosmo. I’d wear my booties with the wrong dress! I’d never find anybody! Anyway, tonight I’m taking these tips out for a spin, armed with low cut shirts and my trusty friend Amanda. One of those tips is to “order two different drinks at the bar…take one over to a cute guy and tell him the bartender messed up your order.” Which is sort of like bribery, and something I’m definitely not doing because I barely have enough money to fund my own drinking. Also, I don’t want to insult the intelligence of some random bartender who did nothing wrong! The service industry is hard enough! Anyway, I’ll report on those tomorrow. Tonight, I will write my own ways I think are good for meeting a man (or woman..dammit Cosmo, when will your stupid little mind expand):

1. Steal his wallet: When at a bar, grab the first cute guy’s butt you see and swipe his wallet. Take twenty dollars from it. Approach man and say “you dropped this.” Give it back to him. Buy him a drink..with his own money! Chivalry isn’t dead, after all.

2. Go to the grocery store: Wait behind a large display of fruit that is rollable, like apples or oranges. When you spot a hot guy, push the fruit pile towards him, then sprint around the display and push him out of the way! You have saved his life. Hold a piece of fruit towards his forever grateful face and say something cute like “should’ve had V8!” Laugh maniacally. Get engaged.

3. Meet at the park: When you see a cute guy playing football or frisbee with his friends, wait till the ball gets thrown in your direction. When you return it, first find a large menacing dog. Tease him with the ball. Throw the ball back. Set the dog free. When he is inches away from death, take the raw steak you have kept in your purse and distract the dog with it.

4. Trip him. Until he learns.

5. Go to a sports bar. Find a guy you like, and ask him what team he roots for. When the guy reveals his answer, beat somebody from the opposite team senselessly with a bar stool. Look at him deadpan and whisper ‘anything for love.’

6. Follow a man home and hide under his bed until he’s fast asleep. When you are sure he won’t wake up repeat “You will love your name and address here for the rest of your life” until it is dawn and you climb cat-like out of his window. Call your mother, you’ve met the one.

7. Buy fifty or so hamsters: Make sure they are robotic but covered in life-like hair, so as to fool everybody. Let them out in a crowded bar. Scream “my babies! my babies!” Whoever rescues the most is worthy of your eternal love.

8. Go up to somebody you find interesting. Make sure this man is not sporting too much visible chest hair or isn’t slapping women’s asses. Talk to him. Decline a drink because if you don’t like him, you don’t have to hang out with him. Make sure you’re not that drunk. Talk and see what happens.

9. Enter the nearest coffee shop. Have an interesting book that makes you seem well-read. Try The Girl With The Dragon Tramp Stamp.  When you see somebody you find interesting, open the book and pretend you are reading it, but really just stare at him. Laugh loudly at funny parts. Nod at smart parts. Look horrified. If he doesn’t look up and begin an intelligent conversation, throw hot coffee on him and yell “you broke my heart!”

10. Wear a shirt that says “I <3 Fatal Attraction.” Go to Wall Street bars and flirt with married men. Wear a necklace of butcher knives and faux rabbit feet. Tell him they are real.

11. Drink a lot of colorful martinis like “Caketinis” and “Pieopolitans” until you are good and boozy. Go up to some random dude and make out with his face. This is exactly how Julia Stiles’ snagged a man in The Prince and Me or whatever that movie about doing it with royalty was called.

12. Go up to somebody and ask them “Are you David?” When he says no, look embarrassed and say “Of course you can’t be. He’s chained in my basement!” Buy him a muffin, see where it goes. 

13. Bring a camera and snap a photo of a person you’re interested in. A while later, tap him on the shoulder and ask to speak to him privately. Show him the picture. Tell him ” I’ve been sent by an elite underground crime ring to murder you. But I’m really working with the CIA. Come with me if you want to live.” He’ll love that you quoted a little bit of The Terminator! And he’ll think he’s special enough to be murdered!

14. Buy a cop uniform at your local Party City and plant a hefty amount of heroin in his pocket. Bust him, and then reveal the truth after you’ve put him in your car! Go out to a cool dive bar with the best live music.

15. Ask him if he wants to hear a story. When he says yes or no, start describing the plot of Fool’s Gold in great detail. 

16. Go to an art museum. Ask him if he’d like to take place in the biggest art heist this country’s ever seen. Wear all black so he knows you’re serious.

17. Gather 20 men you meet at a bar and make them wear tuxedos. Ask them to battle over your love in a series of rock climbing dates and rose ceremonies. 

18. The Sixth Sense: Tell a man you can see dead people and make him intrigued enough to follow you around. Keep him in the dark about a very important secret regarding him and ‘being alive.’

19. The Sleepless in Seattle: Fall in love with a man across the country because you heard him on the radio. Interact with his child through a series of letters. Meet Tom Hanks on a monument.

20. The You’ve Got Mail: Fall in love with a man through the internet because you have AOL. Interact with him through a series of emails. Meet Tom Hanks in a park.

Ever since I asked you guys to send me your stories of Dating, Love, and Rum in the Time of STDs, I’ve been getting awesomely shameless e-mails that I can’t wait to write about. (Sidenote: Keep ‘em coming) However, I won’t be able to do much of that today because it’s Friday and I have to drink and topple the tiny paper bricks that make up my self-esteem tower. Friday is the day you take your intellectual capacity and humiliate it with a large cup filled with liquid that destroys your relationships and your liver. Anyway. This brings me to an email I received:

Last May, I took a trip to the Cape with 12 of my best friends. At a bar one night, me and two of my friends started a conversation with a man. I introduced myself as one of the girls sisters (she is in fact, my “little sister” in my sorority), proceeded to make out with her in front of this man, and then take his cigar. Should I really be surprised that he wasn’t interested in continuing the conversation?
The next night, I dove into a pool at the club (which was strictly off limits), proceeded to get kicked out of the club, and then cry to the bouncer about how I’m the unluckiest person alive. 

Well, if this isn’t a classic case of “Friday Night Debauchery Brings Saturday Morning Regret” than I don’t know what is. As you might know, after a couple of shots of Stoli we tend to enjoy the sounds of our own voices more. Raising them in joyous exuberance is a great idea! Everybody wants to hear you shout and cry! Cry, actually, because now you’re sobbing. Great. You’re making yourself proud. Anyway, nothing is worse than waking up in the morning with the night before weighing on you like The Freshman 15. Don’t worry, Little Foot. I’m here to give you a step-by-step guide explaining how to do some damage control after a particularly crazy night out.

 1. Look at yourself in the mirror: Breathe in and out. Tell yourself “I am not my last drink. I am not my last drink.” Stare deeply in your eyes. Your bloodshot, mascara-caked eyes. This is who you have chosen to become. Accept this woman. Do not forget her image. When you go to work on Monday, hair clean and eyes shining, may you see the ghost of this beast in your reflection. May you learn many a thing.

2. Approach your phone: Do it slowly, gently, as to not wake it. It’s no doubt had a long night too, given that you must have spent a good amount of time between shots buried in its helpful T-9. Brace yourself for the worst as you check ‘sent messages.’ Bathe in this pain. The guy friend you hooked up with? Your ex? Colors of your wind, my friend. Own it, but do not address these texts. 2am text messages are like watching The View: everybody loves to make fun of them, but nobody takes them seriously. People might talk, people might share. Accept you fucked up and keep your god damn phone away from your slimy little beer hands next time, okay?

3. Call a good friend: Before you go around posting on Facebook “OMG I DONT EVEN KNOWWW WHAT HAPPPENED LAST NIGHT” don’t be a dumbass and find out. Call the closest friend you have. Ask them the worst thing you did. Even if you didn’t blackout, you have to understand that everybody thought you were a moron. You better find out why from somebody who loves you. 

4. Once you find that out, act accordingly: If you murdered somebody, make sure you bathe yourself in bleach and burn the clothes you wore. If you just cried and told everybody you love them, sit in a dark room. Burn soft candles. Ask the universe why you are sad. And if you hugged everybody and told them how much you lovvvvvvvve them, watch Angela’s Ashes and stop being so annoyingly optimistic.

5. Assess your drinking habits:  Two rules: 1. I mean, if you’re in a bad mood, don’t drink whiskey. This is a fact. You are a modern person who has access to a computer. You’re not a beat poet. You’re not an abusive 1950’s husband. You’re not my grandfather. Being angry on whiskey bring you nothing positive, it just makes you sweat sugar and rage against all kinds of machines. 2. Don’t embarrass me by drinking cupfuls of lukewarm, generic beer Same goes for more than two bar shots. There’s something called ice. Put your shots on it. If you’re drinking shit, you’re going to feel like shit, and I think you deserve it. Remember: you either like to drink, or like to drink well. If you get a hangover from something with the word ‘tonic’ in it, I feel for you. ‘Punch?’ not so much.

6. Buck up, champ: Deal with it. Yes, I’ve had to explain to a friend or two why I thought calling them a bitch was hilarious. I’ve had to listen to people accuse me of repeating stories I don’t remember telling. I’ve had to bandage wounds I shouldn’t have gotten. You sassy tramp, you messed up and now you’ve got to live with it. If you don’t like it, don’t drink so much next time. Write your mistakes on a little post-it note and put it in the pocket of your sluttiest skirt. Read it. Hope the list doesn’t get longer.

7. Pay all tickets and make all court appearances.

8. Try to keep at least one promise made: If you agreed to go eat poison and go throw up on the Twilight Display at Hot Topic, don’t do that. If you agreed to go see a matinee movie with your friend you don’t hang out with often, do it. I swear, one drunk promise kept is like, a million karma points. It’ll make you feel better for all that karaoke you sucked at.

9. Take a shower: You nasty little thing! Whenever I see a girl get up on Saturday morning and not jump into the tub and scour her skin raw, I get really grossed out and want to spray her with a firehose. You are loaded with germs! I know what you did- after the third time you went to the public restroom, I know your unbalanced ass planted itself right on the toilet without the aid of a squat. I know you rested your head on the subway metal bars, and I know your face was all happy and close with that bass player who didn’t get ‘why heroin is illegal.’ Change your sheets. Actually, give them to haz-mat. Wash your clothes! Soak in boiling water! 

10. Eat some eggs, lay around in pain. When 9pm rolls around and your hangover’s gone, for fuck’s sake LEARN YOUR LESSON.

The Frenemy has got a lot of great stuff coming up, so I would love some of your feedback and stories. I received an e-mail the other day that I loved (as I love all of your hilarious messages). It read:

I’d like to make a request.  You spend a lot of time talking about the uselessness of lady mags, generally from the point of view of someone who likes to party, tends to make messes, has self-respect but occasionally does dumb shit, and doesn’t like to be told that she needs a man.  I think this is fantastic, but I wonder if you might offer some alternative suggestions, rather than simply railing on the “conventional wisdom” stuff. The fact is that I am a self-respecting, non-body-image-problem having, mature single lady in her twenties, and I am single.  Though I don’t feel I need a relationship to be happy (in general I AM happy) I don’t want to be single now. 

Well, good point, reader, and right on. Anyway, I’ve got a couple of ideas I want to talk about, and I need your stories.

Send me a message on tumblr or email me at IAmTheFrenemy@gmail.com. Tell me:

-your dating horror stories

-your dating successes

-your worst and best bar night stories

-why you’re happy being single, or why you’re not

-Why you think you’re single (ex: I make more sense on three gin and tonics than I do otherwise)

-anything you think is worth telling me or want to see me write about.

Also, don’t sugar coat that shit. Make it gritty, blunt, and raw as hell.

I want to hear your feedback bitches! Mostly because I’m a stumbling in heels, drunk texting, four drink minimum mess myself. If we’re going to satirize Cosmo and all that terrible advice we get from it, we better start having some sensible counter arguments, ya hear?

Send away, friends! I’ll drink to that!

Romantic comedies have always inspired and delighted me. With their wacky best friends, their impossible situations, and their swelling girl pop, nothing gets me more elated than settling down with a bucket of butter and a good chick flick. In fact, I’ve watched them so much, I think I’ve got a couple of ideas of my own. Anyway, buckle up Hollywood, here I come!

1. Romantic Comedies with Kate Hudson:

Movie: Cake Walk

Tagline: Love is Sweet. So is Revenge.

Premise: Kate Hudson has made a lucrative career out of being a fantastic pastry chef. Her specialty is large elaborate wedding cakes even though she has been too busy for a relationship for years. She’s not single, she’s got meetings! She is very into her career, shown through wedding montages with extremely over-themed weddings. Everybody is still concerned, however, that having and handling a successful business will make her slowly die single. However, when the wedding of the most important person (probably a senator or a famous blonder person) in her city is getting married, she figures she’s a shoo in for making his cake, and she’ll be pastry famous and her parents can stop yelling at her for being a spinster. NOT! The most famous and attractive pastry chef of England just moved to the city of Kate’s residence, and now the bride want them to prove who’s the better baker! In a series of elaborate contests! Luckily, this British pastry chef is also Kate’s ex-boyfriend who she almost married! Hilarity ensues! So does flour on the face and slipping on the kitchen floor montages.

2. Romantic Comedies with A Popular Comedian as the Leading Man/Reese Witherspoon:

Movie: The Wingman

Tagline: Bros before…love after

Premise: Daniel Tosh, finally taking the throne as Dane Cook’s “sweater-wearing frat boy” predecessor, has been best friends with Adrian Grenier for as long as he can remember. Adrian has always been the better looking one, but he’s kind of a douche and Daniel is really caring and gawky. Or at least funny, which is something girls also like. Daniel is always winging it for Adrian, but not just at bars because that would make a short and boring movie. No, he helps cover for the fact that he cheats on lots of women by going along with Adrian’s lies and scheduling his many dates like a bro-secretary. He also meets these women at burger places or bars or whatever when Adrian’s late, to keep them distracted until he gets there. However, on this one very special occasion, he meets Reese, Adrian’s new conquest who is a successful lady who invented an amazing kind of juicer. Daniel falls madly in love with Reese, but all the while she’s dating Adrian who is cheating on her and making her feel terrible. They hang out and drink wine on his floor, but she still for some reason loves Adrian a lot. Considering that Adrian and her have no chemistry and Daniel and her have lots, you really wonder how this will end.

3. Ensemble Comedies

Movie: Blockbusting

Tagline: This December, love breaks records.

Premise: This movie chronicles how hard it is to make a popular romantic comedy! Because it’s a romantic comedy about the making of a romantic comedy! ZING! Think of every possible untalented and popular movie star you can think of. They are in this film. Then add two or three talented wild cards who have about six lines in this film because they are above it but not the cash. So..here we go. Bradley Cooper is the director of a Romantic Comedy that is sure to be a box office smash. It is his first film since he got divorced, and he’s very stressed that he will make a film that shows how jaded he is. He hates love! His loyal and sarcastic publicist, Courtney Cox, is confident that he will do well with the film and they have lots of laughs over their LA bluetooths. The star of the movie within the movie is bitchy A-list actress Blake Lively, who is dating big movie star Chris Evans, also her co-star. Their entire career is resting on the fact that they are doing their first movie together, and much pressure is being put on the fact that most movies starring couples bomb. Her best friend is hometown buddy Adam Brody, who makes her happy and keeps her grounded. Chris Evans is kind of gay. New production assistant Emma Stone is trying to be sexier in order to catch the eye of Zac Efron, while producer Aaron Eckhart is having an affair even though his wife Kerry Washington is unaware and pregnant. Ke$ha makes an appearance. Romantic comedies are hard to make! Most of them kiss, one of them breaks up because this movie is realistic.

4. Indie Romantic Comedy:

Movie Premise: Food for Thought

Tagline: Love. Breakfast.

Premise: This takes place in a small, depressing lower-middle class hometown. Everybody is not as attractive as the main characters, but have lively personalities to make up for it. The girl is pretty, but she wears puffy jackets and walks with her hands in her pockets. Everything is grey-washed. The guy wears ties and does everything slowly. The two meet in the grocery store or when she’s barefoot. The guy works in the prominent cereal factory that everybody works for in the town. The girl works as the girl that gives free samples of said cereal and wears a hair net. She has a terrible boyfriend, brother, father, or male influence in her life but she is quirky and off-beat hilarious. She listens to records and is good at catching toads. The guy paints things but his hands are tired from doing so much factory work so his hands bleed on the canvas and he is pissed. His mom smokes cigarettes.  Her boss has pens in his front pocket and he hits on her. They eat at diners till all hours of the night and muse. They never eat the cereal. They fall in love but in the least romantic way possible. They also grow up.

5. The Stoner Romantic Comedy

Movie: The Blunt Truth

Tagline: Love is a joint effort.

Premise: A very stoned man meets a normal intelligent woman. She changes his life and he grows and blossoms. He makes her less uptight. They fall in love. Who cares how? Maybe she has a good job, or is super organized, or is a reporter. She’s all like ‘hey why smoke so much pot’ and he’s like ‘i wear dirty jeans and have a solid group of friends. Watch us have well-written banter!’ and she’s like ‘i don’t have friends but I can pay my rent!’ This is where middle ground steps in and is all like ‘so have you ever thought about me?’ And they’re like ’ no we’re too busy sparring!’ Here’s Paul Rudd!!!And the black guy from the Office/Hot Tub Time Machine! Funny pot jokes! Sweet and touching ending!