OkCupid

So, a while back I found myself on OkCupid as sort of a social experiment. I didn't really want to meet anyone, because I'm kind of a purist in that sense, but I was just kind of curious about it. So I joined. And I got a lot of traffic from the kind of dick-driven trolls I thought I would at first. My profile information was snarky and uninformative at best. But there were a few interesting interactions as a result.

- The Banter Guy. This guy messaged me with the full intention of bantering with me. In the end, I made him angry by way of being a complete smartass and he never messaged me back.

- The Married Guy. His message was literally "Would you be okay with fucking a married guy, or are you not into that?". Oy.

- The Soulmate. One of the guys that messaged me was someone I thought was actually sort of attractive and had a personality to match mine, in a way. He messaged me this whole tongue-in-cheek response and that I seemed like the good kind of crazy. So as a reply, I reciprocated his interest and followed it up by asking if he thought black and green were good colors for our wedding invitations. He never wrote back.

And finally..

- The Angry Guy. This guy was a gem. He messaged me a really sweet message, but I didn't stay on the app long enough daily to reply to my messages in a very timely fashion. Fortunately, OkCupid has a disclaimer at the bottom of your profile that tells how often you reply to people (often, selectively, rarely, etc). This guy must have missed that boat. He followed his message up a day later with a message that said "Fine, I guess you're a stuck up bitch. Fuck you. I hope you get shot or robbed.". Dream guy.

So, all in all, my experience with OkCupid was mediocre. I'm no longer there, as my social experiment is over. Plus I think I'm gonna marry Angry Guy. I hope he likes black and green.

CH- CH- CH- CH- CHANGES

Good evening, readers of my blog. Yes, both of you. How are you? I don't care. :)

Well, New Years Eve is almost upon us.. and you know what that means. That's right. All of your Facebook friends will soon be sharing their goals and memories with you, even though you couldn't possibly care less. So, like a considerate motherfucker, I'm going to do that here. And really only here. Because my goals are my own and the life changes ahead of me are also my own. So here are my three forthcoming 2014 major plans:

- Health. Everyone has at least one person in their life that is making it their goal to lose a fuck ton of weight in the new year. I'm less concerned with my weight and more concerned with my health. So in 2014, I plan on being primarily vegan and as healthful as I possibly can be. I'm pushing 30. My metabolism is about to quit on me. It's time to kick my own ass into gear by also working out more to aid in my increased health!

- Internet. In the new year, I fully plan to use the internet more to my advantage. I'm an aspiring comedian. I have this time off to do comedy things and I'm not doing them, except for my live shows. I'm going to make better use of my time and of the internet in 2014 and have a sketch or a character or some sort of comedy video up on YouTube at least once a week.

- Relocation. This one has taken me a long time to come to. Initially, when I was thinking about what to do when my lease is up in June, I had a lot of ideas about where I want to relocate. You'll find out at midnight tomorrow when the post goes up, but I will be relocating in the summer of 2014. Details then. :)

So there you have it. These are my realistic goals and plans for the coming year. My last blog post of the year is scheduled for tomorrow night at midnight, like I said, so from the present, I wish you all a safe and a happy New Years Eve. May you get drunk on all of the booze and arrive safely to and from your destinations of choice.

Some kind of sincere love I guess,
Shface

Surviving Christmas, Trophy Wife and Shit Like That...

Christmas is finally over. I know for some people Christmas is this magical bullshit time of year, but my family is a ball of stress that makes Christmas damn near unbearable. However, here are some lovely fucking things from my holiday because things.

Twas the night before Christmas (Eve) and all through the Olive Garden I stumbled after this strong ass margarita. 

The next day was Christmas Eve, wherein my mom's side of the family gets together and pretends they don't hate each other for a day. Oh, we also eat. And eat. And eat. And then we eat.

No. Seriously. 

Then on Christmas Eve, I looked like this. Cool shot. Not really. 

These two hung out. Good for them, ya know?

And then, as it always does, Christmas Day brought me the cold I inevitably found on Christmas Eve.

I got some things because I was good all year, jerks.

The next day, I put clothes on and went shopping. When I did it, I looked like this, only less stupid maybe.

I hung out with my mom and had a time.

Then once my mom and I got on each others' nerves, it was time for me to go home.

When I got home, I decided to not be a fucking hermit and go out and do some stuff. Mostly wait for buses.

Yes, I'll have one.

Yes, I'll have one. Just one.

A journey to Barnes & Noble for the last two seasons of The Golden Girls they no longer had led me to this:

Which just sounds like hardcore masturbatory training to me.

And on my journey home from the day's adventures...

....a man whose love of Angry Birds is only matched by his love of dental hygiene. 

---------------------------------------

In other news, I've been discovering that I am starting to like television again. I accidentally caught the Christmas episode of Trophy Wife on ABC. I fell in love immediately. First, it has Marcia Gay Harden, who I have had the biggest girlcrush on since I was probably fourteen years old. 

No, like, seriously. Look at her.

Anyhow, after being initially hooked by the queen that is MGH, I actually gave the show a chance and I fell in love with it. It's very, very funny. The title gives the impression that it's another sexist, tits bouncing for the guy bullshit bag of dicks sitcom, but it's really not at all. It's smart and sweet and really funny. So much so that I really adore Michaela Watkins after having spent so many dislike dollars on her during her time on SNL. If you haven't seen it yet, see it. (Tuesdays at 930/830 central on ABC)

Alright, this is too long.

Go fuck yourselves.

DailyGrace

A couple years ago upon a beautiful internet accident, I came across a vlogger called DailyGrace. A woman my age, who liked alcohol and comedy and was doing exactly what I didn't know could be done, but still what I had thought I'd wanted to do. For the past two years straight, five days a week, I've been able to depend on a DailyGrace video. Through her connection with both YouTube and MyDamnChannel.com, she was able to be found wherever I wanted... or really, at either YouTube or MDC.

This week, I went back to MyDamnChannel, where the archives of DailyGrace lie and decided to do a complete rewatch from the beginning and spent an entire day absorbing the awesome. Thanks, unemployment.

However, her cryptic - and now edited - video from today suggest that she and MDC might be breaking up.

She also ended the toast made at the end looking toward new beginnings and "it's grace". And her old YouTube channel now can also be linked by www.youtube.com/ItsGrace 

(ps - go subscribe)

I think one of the best things about working for the internet is the creative control one must have. I think that this breakup - aside from its potential sticky legalities - could be tremendous for Grace. She certainly has the skill to keep her audience and now she may have the time and the room to alter her schedule and content in ways that MDC might have had her restricted on. 

No matter what happens, this will not be the last we see of Grace. I hope whatever happens, we all still get a little slice of life from Grace Helbig, even if it's not every day or we're not being hazed.

It's nice to see someone succeed at the absolute dream of a comedian. 

I wish you the best, Grace. 

SNACKS.

Christmas and Whatnot

Well it's the 23rd. My shopping is done, nothing is wrapped and I'm at my grandmother's house for the next three days. My skin is broken out, my period is due and I've made a conscious decision to eat anything within in arms reach. My family is in disarray, the times are volatile, I'm waiting on my new debit card (Thanks, Target), the kitchen is too far, I don't feel like I spent enough on my mom. I woke up with a headache, my laundry is almost done, I don't fit in any pants that have a button. I'm sleeping on an air mattress that deflates just enough to be annoying everyday. The only thing that's on TV right now is a shitty episode of Saved by the Bell. The only coffee in this house is the three day old coffee my grandma reheats in the morning. I could really use a shower, I could really use a nap, I could really use a better diet and maybe some exercise. The gent is with a new woman, my computer needs more memory, Obamacare. Coconut oil, ski hats, snow is coming. Good moisturizer, bad hair color, giant sweatpants, grateful for gifts. Secretly hating some gifts. Manners, politeness, white lies, getting hammered to repress your hatred for some of your family.


Have a good Christmas, fuckers.

Phil Robertson

So, by now I'm sure you've heard that Phil Robertson of Duck Dynasty, a show I'm most pleased never to have watched, has been suspended from the network for being quoted as being homophobic.

Now, while I'm all for A&E's decision and I do think what Robertson said verbatim was rather soft compared to some things some other people of "note" have said regarding homosexuality, I am ashamed of people who condemn A&E for choosing to take Robertson off of their channel.

"But what about Freedom of Speech!", they cry.

Yes, here in America, even in the po-dunk, hillbilly parts of the country, we have the freedom to say what we want. However, having the right to say what you want whenever you want, doesn't always mean you should. When it hurts other people, you probably should shut up. When you're using your religion against people, you probably should shut up. If you're a public figure and you're asked a controversial question, you also have the right to say "no comment".

People defended his comments, which included the suggestion that from homosexuality stems bestiality and promiscuity (which is false, in case you're stupid too), by saying "but that's what he BELIEVES!".

SO?!

So fucking what if that's what he believes?! You're telling me that if I believed that all Asians were demons sent from the loins of hateful monsters and I said that in a public forum that that's okay? Just because I believe it?! (PS - I don't believe that. Just an example. Idiot.)

The fact is, if you believe that homosexuality is a sin, you are a coward hiding behind your religion. You are denying people you may and/or may not know the right to LOVE. Don't we all deserve love? It's not your job, place, responsibility, right to tell people that they do not because they are attracted to someone of the same sex. Is homosexuality only okay when it's two heterosexual women pleasuring each other on your computer screen so you can jerk off into a tube sock you hide under your bed?

In the end, equality will win, as it always has and you will be the idiots looking ignorant and full of hatred for no reason.

So defend Phil Robertson for his stellar belief system.
Progress will defeat all of your bullshit.

SHOWING OFF, COMPLAINING AND THE HOME STRETCH

As of late, I'm getting REAL sick of hearing people complain about things in their lives that they have the full and complete ability to change. You can change almost anything in your life. And some people have had life-altering events hit them at the core and they haven't uttered a word of complaint. If you find yourself complaining a lot about something in your life, do the following:
-Shut your yap
-Step the fuck back
-Look at the situation
-Realize it's not the end of the world
-Work toward fixing it
-Get the fuck over it
Stop making everything about you. Even though life is unjust and rough sometimes, someone (even someone you KNOW) has it far worse than you do, so maybe keep those petty complaints to yourself.

Conversely, there have also been a lot of people in my life who are presently showing off in the most obnoxious fashion. People I once respected and thought the world of. People who caused a world of pain they will never know because they never had to see it. Let me lay it on the line for said people who have the need to show their lives off to whomever has their eyes open; no one is impressed. No one cares that you have things. No one cares that you have money. Rather, we feel sad that you are nothing but materialism now. You look stupid and pretentious and you caused hurt that I cannot promise will be forgiven. If you find yourself being a total asshole, do the following:
-FUCKING STOP IT.

Alrighty then, rant over.

I'm in the home stretch of my new life plan. I'm formulating the letters and words I need to share with people in my life. I have to say, I was more excited about this before, but I think it will do me a world of good to say the things, good and bad, I've waited to say.

In other news, I've bought my New Years dress. It should arrive Monday. All I need are boots and jewelry and my outfit is complete.

I, on the other hand, will never be complete.

HOW I WOULD SPEND MEGA MILLIONS WINNINGS

I know we all fantasize about how we would spend great amounts of money, even just for a little bit. But last night, I was talking to my mom on Facebook and we were really delving into what we would spend that money on, since the Mega Millions are up to $550 million (about $250 mil take home). So, I thought, where better to share my thoughts of this than in a public forum?

So here's a list of ways I would spend Mega Millions winnings:

1. I would buy two new cars. I'd buy a Jeep Wrangler and probably something sensible like a Prius or a Camry. XM Radio and whatnot too.
2. I'd buy two MacBook Pros. Just because I could.
3. Think my 4S could use an upgrade to the 5SOS or whatever's coming up next.
4. I'd pay my rent through the end of my lease.
5. I'd buy an apartment outright in New York City.
6. I'd rent a place in Los Angeles, where I'd grow my own year round garden of vegetables.
7. I'd go visit my place in Los Angeles and get my hair and nails done at the best salon.
8. I'd see the best god damn dermatologist in the world.
9. Personal trainer, right?
10. I'd hire a masseuse and pay them an outrageously large salary.
11. I'd hire an on-call dessert chef.
12. I'd always have $100s in my pocket and I'd give them to awesome strangers.
13. I'd donate a gross amount to the Trevor Project.
14. I'd defunct The Salvation Army (and their homo-hating ways) with a replacement organization that won't ring terrible bells in your face during the holidays. Instead, they'll be inside and will offer you a delightful snack or a coupon for wherever it is you are.
15. I'd buy my own public access channel and use it for fun sketches and to expose up and coming interesting people.
16. I'd buy one of everything at a Sephora and pay the women in Victoria's Secret to leave me alone while I shop for intimates.
17. I'd have a closet dedicated to material crap like nailpolish and lipgloss.
18. I'd have fifty denim shirts and wear them everyday for fifty days.
19. I'd take a trip to Europe on a whim and be there as long as I'm there.
20. I'd give about half of the money to my mother, who would undeniably do the same for me.

The fact is, I grew up dirt poor. I'm basically dirt poor right now. I've never known what it's like to have money. I have a hard time saying I'd buy a home theater or a Ferrari. Those things aren't practical for me. I don't think if I had money I could make my life more about things than sharing the wealth. It sounds lame and I can hear you calling shenanigans on me, but I truly think money can make you happy, but not when you use it to replace experiences with things.

THINGS I NEED TO GET CRACKIN' ON...

-Christmas shopping. I haven't done a fucking thing yet.
-My letters to folks I have things to say to by the end of the year.
-Taking my dog to the vet. Boy needs his shots.
-My stupid YouTube channel.
-Buying more leggings. Or else I'll be naked.
-Ordering my New Years dress. Or else I'll be naked.
-Sleep. 'Night.

HOW TO DEAL WITH DRAMA

After a night out with friends and realizing that it requires an hour long preparation involving a 5-Hour Energy to actually participate in a full night out, I remembered the downside of going out; DRAMA. I've never fancied myself a dramatic person in any capacity. I'm very non-confrontational for the most part and drunken drama is the least appealing. However, if you are of age to be in a bar (or have a really tits fake ID), you will recognize this drama immediately.

There is only one way to deal with drama; AVOID IT AT ALL COSTS.

If you have friends that are consistently dramatic when you go out, stop going out with those friends.
If you have friends that are consistently dramatic when you stay in, stop staying in with those friends.
If you have friends that are consistently dramatic in their love lives and will not shut up about it, you should probably point that out to them and promptly tell them to pipe the fuck down.

Life is far too short to have that drama in your life. And whether you are the drama or you tolerate the drama, you need to find a way to get it the fuck out of your life.

If you insist on keeping your loudmouth drama queen/king friend in your life, you have no choice but to take on the role of den-mother/father and be the voice of reason CONSTANTLY. Because let's face it, on any given night when someone pisses you off enough to get mad and act on it, that friend is going to be causing five times the drama you would about it. You can't rely on that.

So, if you find yourself surrounded by that drama, you either have to be the one controlling the evening or you need to get yourself some new friends.

I recommend the latter.

Goodnight/morning, fairweather fucks.

She's Just Not That Into You

So, obviously I've been doing some introspective searching, as far as my love life goes lately. And since there's that lovely love life manual for females, He's Just Not That Into You, I thought there should be a similar manual for men.

Frankly, when a man is not picking up on your signs that you're not interested or just doesn't care and proceeds to try and pick you up anyway, it's really a-fucking-nnoying. So, here are some fool-proof ways to tell if the woman you're desperately after is into it or if you just need to fuck off and make it happen elsewhere...

She will always be happy to see you.
Women aren't as secretive as you might think. We often show our emotion by simply showing our emotion. Most of the time, women won't be quick to pretend like you're not there if we're excited that you are. She'll engage you in conversation, even if it's awkward conversation. Women who ignore men want to play their sexual cards. They want you to be interested, but they'll never follow through.*

The touch.
I know this one sounds like bullshit straight outta Cosmo magazine, but touching really is fairly telling of how a woman feels about you. Women who are interested will touch you in some (non-pervy, pervs!) fashion during a conversation. I didn't realize that was true until I caught myself doing it with a guy I was flirting with.**

Smiles.
Intrinsically, we all smile when we're around people that make us happy. It's so common that I'm sure no one ever really realizes they're doing it. If she's into you and she likes what you bring to the conversation, she'll smile a lot. If you find yourself thinking "Wow, that wasn't even clever or funny", she's probably interested in you. You know how when you're into someone, everything they say is like some weird magic, even if it's absolutely nothing of any sort of note.***

The invitations.
If she invites you to hang out with her, be it alone or in a group, this means she wants to see you more. She has an interest in what you bring to the table and wants to either show you off or get to know you better in a more personal setting. But what if I'm busy?! Well, if you really like her, I'd recommend canceling whatever crap you had planned for the evening and go hang out with the cool girl. However, if canceling isn't an option because you're probably a huge pussy (just kidding. kinda.), politely decline, but make sure she knows you're still interested. Something like "So sorry, I'm busy being a pussy tonight, raincheck?". This way it leaves an opening for a later opportunity. But please note that by asking for a raincheck, it's only polite to take the reins on your next outing opportunity with her, since she ballsed up to ask you out.****

The Ask Out. 
If she's given you this much to go by and you don't ask her out, you really are a fucking pussy.*****


*The exception to the rule would be a painfully shy woman. Try to pick up on her body language. If she's fidgety, she's probably just shy. If she stands tall and confident and ignores you, she's fucking with you. If she stands tall and confident and engages you in conversation, she's interested. If she stands tall and confident and engages you in small talk, she likes you as a friend.

**Some women are really non-tactile and shy. Don't count yourself out if she's not stroking your arm while you tell her the funniest joke in your repertoire; she may be too awkward or reserved to attempt it. Plus, she probably read that she does it in Cosmo magazine and thinks it's a load of bullshit.

***Some people are just polite. If it's a smile with teeth, she's pickin' up what you're puttin' down. If it's a thin-lipped, no-teeth smile, she's just being polite.

****If you have no other friends, she's just pitying you... or if you have too many mutual friends she already invited to a gathering, she's just being polite.

*****Period.






Hope these fool-proof tips were helpful!
I'm off to get Shfacefacewasted.


Happy weekend!

Giving Luck on Up

While luck is never something I truly believed in, it occurred to me recently that to not believe in something requires you to not act as though you believe it. I guess we all have that secret box in our brains that wants to believe that magic can happen just by putting good energy into the ether. But sometimes, the sheer coincidence of these things makes it hard to NOT believe.

For example, my mom and I have a thing about pennies. We would say pennies are a sign of something good. But how? Is that just false hope? While cleaning my apartment yesterday afternoon, something in me decided that I was no longer going to buy into it. It's gotten me nowhere and given me nothing but false hope that the bullshit wishes in my brain piece would somehow magically come true because I found the most expendable form of currency in America on a filthy street corner. However, when I left the apartment to take out the garbage, clear as day, there was a single penny on my front porch. Is the universe just fucking with me or is there really no rhyme or reason to how things happen?

I'd be shocked that after almost 28 years of life that the universe is just built on a heap of happy accidents.

So I'm not giving up on luck or dreams or wishing; I'm giving up on the expectation. In the scheme of things, the only thing we can depend on is what the universe throws our way. It's out of our control. We can steer it in certain directions, but ultimately, everything is an accident.



Editor's note: Is it a cosmic coincidence that I blogged about luck on Friday the 13th? Cause that's just fucking weird.

5 STEPS TO BE OKAY WITH BEING THE ONE NOT GETTING ENGAGED

I've never been the girl that dreams of her wedding. That's just not my style. If it's yours, by all means, embrace it. I'm just not wired that way.

However, when you're creeping up on thirty and are as single as is humanly possible, the whole social norms of relationships vs. age seems to play a big part in your life, whether you want it to or not. When your Facebook photos are of you and your other single friends drunk off your ass and your closest married friend posts photos of the same night where they drank red wine and played Bananagrams with her whipped husband and all of their pansy ass mutual friends, it's hard to not feel like you don't have your life together.

So here are some tips on how to feel more "together" and how to realize that it's not bad to be the single one:

1- However together other people may seem, everyone has bullshit in their lives. These days, if you can't instagram it, it's not worth having in most peoples' eyes. This is why so many people instagram their food and their nails and their blowouts and their expensive shit; they want to seem like they have their lives together. But behind those filtered photos is a laundry list of shit that's wrong with their lives. So even though they can take thirty selfies until they find the one that catches their newly dyed hair in the right light, know that a Nashville filter cannot hide their subsurface problems.

2- Don't be ashamed of having fun. I went through a lengthy phase where I felt like a douchebag everytime a photo of me in a less than sober state appeared on Facebook. Scrolling down the page would be that photo of me, followed by a friend's new baby and another friend's perfectly manicured hand with a giant shiny rock on it. But just because we all live our lives differently doesn't make one of us better than the others. Single people don't have the responsibility (or the weigh-down, if you will) that people with children (or sometimes husbands -- hahahahahahahahahahaha. ahem.) do. Which leads me to my next point.

3- Don't let any married person or person with a child tell you that you will embrace their lifestyle one day. Maybe marriage is not for you. Maybe having children is not on your to-do list. THAT'S OKAY. You're allowed to not want a child and you're allowed to not want to fuck only one person for the rest of your life. Don't let friends who want that make you feel bad for not wanting it. Ultimately, you know what's best for you and what makes you happy, so do you. Which leads us to..

4- Remember that even though you don't have a wife/husband or a child to clean up after, you still have plenty of life's responsibilities to handle. Don't let your friends make you feel inferior because you couldn't possibly understand what it's like to have to take care of a child 24/7. Life is hard for everyone in different ways. I'm sure taking care of another human person or adjusting to life with a significant others is a difficult thing to do, but so is being unemployed and trying to figure out how to pay your bills. We all have our crosses to bear. Make sure your friends aren't trying to pass theirs off on you just because you took different paths in life.

5- Be happy for your friends. I know this one seems like a "WTF?! How is that supposed to help me?!" kind of a thing, but if you're truly happy for your friends, they're less likely to rub their blissful milestones in your face. Remember, your friends are your friends for a reason. And even if they're annoyingly happy, at least they're happy. And they'd be equally happy for you if this was the path you were taking.

Remember that marriage isn't, like, the one big key to happiness in life. Sure, it's great to have someone love you and to love someone, but it's not the end all be all. If you're happy with yourself, your life and the people you permit to be in it, your life will be equally, if not more, fulfilling as your married friends'.

Barry Manilow

Shut up. I already know what you're thinking.
Okay, I don't... but I CAN feel your judgment, so pipe the fuck down anyway.

Now, I know Manilow is not the coolest cat to most of you, but he truly changed my life for the better. There are songs of his that I listened to as a child that to this day grip my soul with a giant fist and squeeze it til I cry. Songs about pain and about loss and about love and about lust and about happiness and  betrayal. Manilow has a song for everything, really.

First of all, this is one of the only things that in therapy I can truly blame my mother for. I was but a victim in the womb of the Fanilow gene. There isn't a time in my life I don't remember hearing his music. As a three year old feeling the pain of He Doesn't Care on the Manilow album. As a four year old learning Broadway songs I may never have known while bopping around my living room to Showstoppers. As a five year old wanting to sing the Baby It's Cold Outside duet with him on Because It's Christmas. Listening to Even Now at six and crying missing my dad. Watching Copacabana (yes, lifetime made a movie based around the song - starring Manilow & Annette O'Toole) until I literally broke the vhs tape. Getting my friends in 8th grade into his music. Blasting his cover of If I Can Dream in my bedroom at sixteen while I lay on my floor just consuming the music. Hating my life listening to Read Em & Weep after my first real heartbreak.

Barry Manilow is commonplace in my life. He's probably the only constant.

The first time I saw him in concert was when I was four. We saw him in the alley on our way out and I cried. I'll never forget seeing him that close. The black leather bomber jacket he wore, his glasses, that ten foot spiky hair. I can still see it clear as day. I saw him again when I was probably about 10 and then again when I was about 14. I won tickets to see him live a couple years ago. If he's here, I will never not go.

I know it's not particularly the coolest musical choice, but neither is ignorance, my friends. So many people dismiss his music at hearing Mandy or I Write the Songs. But let me tell you, there is no other musician/vocalist/performer that has such deep access to my heart the way Barry Manilow does. Ask your mother; I'm sure she feels the same way.

SOME FRIENDS ARE AWESOME AND SOME UPDATES

I realize I've gotten a bit too real on this blog. I fully intended it to be a more comical December, but I've been hit with some big things this month! Not all bad, but most stressful. So, here's what's been going on in the few days I've been scantily blogging..

I helped my mother seal the deal on the end of her relationship. We got rid of her car and got all of her stuff to her new residence. Someone give that woman some good luck. She could use it.

I bawled my eyes out to a Barry Manilow song today. This one. It had me thinking of my grandfather and what an awesome guy he was. And how he was essentially my father. The best guy I've ever known. But I digress.

I've done some comedy.

I made a pie.

I'm going shopping this evening with two of my lovely friends for a New Years dress. Then we're going to get some dinner because food. Like OMGz.

I got rid of my car yesterday after I found out that our neighborhood had been hit by people hacking catalytic converters off cars. That was fun. But I made almost $400 off that majesticness, so I am a-okay with it.

My shoulders hurt from dragging bags and bags and bags of groceries home the other day.

I should really do my hair and my face before I have to go shopping.
I think I'm getting worse at blogging.

SOME FRIENDS ARE CUNTS AND OTHER OBSERVATIONS

Sometimes in life, though it's tough to accept, we have to let go of friends. I'm facing that time right now and I thought I'd share the tips I've given to myself in dealing with it.

Step one - Accept the fact that their change, regardless of what it is, is THEIR change. When you change outside of someone else, you are the only one changing. You don't bring people with you. And that is what is happening. Your friend has changed in some way and isn't bringing you along for the ride.

Step two - Don't dwell. I found it very easy to dwell on the friendship we had. We were close. Sisters. I'd only felt so comfortable with another friend once in my life. I miss the closeness; having someone to talk to constantly. Now that things are different, it's not the same and it will never be the same. So it's important not to dwell on the memories.

Step three - Look at the relationship, or what's left of it, and if ultimately you're being hurt more than anything, it's time for that friendship to see its last day. True friends don't hurt you on purpose. True friends don't hurt you repeatedly on accident. True friends are friends. If in the end, it hurts more than it heals, it's time to say goodbye.

Step four - Say goodbye. This is the part that's coming in the next couple of weeks. I'm an all or nothing kind of person. And if I'm not important enough to be in your life, except the rare occasion when you pencil me in, I'm taking the "nothing".

Step five - Look to your other friends, the real ones, to fill the void that friend once did. This is not an excuse for co-dependence, but rather an ear to listen and a shoulder to cry on. These are basic friend principles that shouldn't need to be said, and hopefully the rest of your friends are as understanding as mine.

DINA LOHAN HAS A DUI

Just a reminder.

New Years Eve (pt. 2)

Auld Lang Syne, motherfuckers.

I bought my ticket to the New Years Eve function I'll be attending. 

I feel very positive about NYE this year. In fact, I'd very much care to skip Xmas altogether. I don't need anything, but a great dress and a face to make out with at midnight. But I digress.

I fully intended to write a long post today, but unfortunately I have procrastinated my day away AGAIN. So I must run due to having to clean, pack, make myself look less like shit, walk my dog, imbibe gross amounts of coffee and go do a comedy show! 

Maybe a follow up post later.

Be well or be in a well. 

-Shface

You're Doing it Wrong

Here I sit in a Barnes and Noble at 5pm on a Wednesday. Children are screaming and I wish their parents nothing but the best... and also immediate sterilization. Today I thought I'd take a journey to solve my biggest problem of the moment; dating. I traveled through many sexist flirting guides that told me about how I'm not doing it right. I'm not dressing to impress properly. I haven't mastered the quiet hair flip or the holding eye contact while sipping a straw as if I'm fellating it. I don't want to play the I'm-not-going-to-text-him-back games or any of that shit. I'm too straightforward for all that nonsense.

Nothing about this was helpful. I've never been good at pretending to be something I'm not and I'm not going to start at 28. Now is definitely not the time for that.

And to prove it, I just got checked out by a very attractive human man.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be giving him extended eye contact and smiling coyly until it's time to mock up our wedding invitations.

PEOPLE ARE DICKS AND OTHER OBSERVATIONS

So, I spent most of today inside. I was up until 6am talking to an old friend on Skype, laughing my ass off. So I slept until about noon and hung out in bed with the dog all day. Eventually around 7pm I ventured out. I needed something to eat and to simply stimulate my brain with something other than the YouTube vortex that consumed my entire afternoon. Plus, it's 50 degrees in December in Chicago, so I wanted to soak that up a bit too.

So I got on the bus not really sure where I was going to go. I decided as the bus progressed further into the more happenin' part of town that I was going to go into Old Town to eye up a tiny xmas tree to make my own this weekend. But before I'd go over there and look, I decided to pop in to Starbucks for a tiny iced coffee. The girl behind the counter clearly didn't want to be there and was talking to her friend who came to visit her. I politely waited for them to finish talking before I gave her my very simple order (tall iced coffee w/ soy). And even still she was very glib. (not to be confused with Barry Gibb)

I brushed it off. She and her friend clearly had bigger problems and I think we'd all been there. So I was gazing at the lovely coffees Starbucks was selling that I could ask my roommate to bring home for free, since he works at one. The guy preparing the coffee looked at me and said "Iced coffee, right?" and I confirmed. I continued to read the label of the Christmas Blend coffee in my own little world, when the same guy turned to me and as if I were both retarded and hard of hearing said "YOUR DRINK IS READY. THAT'S WHY I SAID THAT.". This really put me off. Hard. I'm not sure why. He's a stranger with zero impact on my life in general. So I decided not to let him have that power. I popped my straw into my drink, looked him in the face and said "Sorry, I guess I'm fucking SLOW. Have a good day... DICK." and I left.

It soured my mood a little, I'm not gonna lie. I may come off as crass and obnoxious on occasion, but one thing I never leave the house without is my manners. I'm always polite, especially to people serving me food or drinks.

So while I stewed on that, I took a quick jaunt across the street to the beautiful Christmas tree haven on Wells. I didn't go in to price them out, but it seems they have the teeny tiny tree size I'm looking to fulfill in my apartment.

It was then I decided I wanted to go look at clothes. I found a dress on Forever21's website that had a dress I really love and wish to procure for my New Years Eve gathering I'm attending. I was being stalked in the Forever21 by a woman named Tamra. I'm pretty sure she thought I was stealing stuff. I had my phone out trying to vlog a thing or two and she kept walking up behind me. It was not only insulting, it was also a weensy bit creepy. First of all, I was wearing a fitted leather jacket that I can barely fit my tits into, let alone an oversized sweater. Secondly, I didn't even have my purse. I had no means to steal anything, nor would I. Upon annoyance at Tamra's close attention to my every move and my inability to find the exact dress I've been clamoring about for days, I decided to book it.
Plus, I didn't want her to see the thirty necklaces I stuffed into my bra.*

I walked from there to the grocery store, where I spend approximately 75% of my time in general. I have an affinity for grocery stores. This one is particularly cozy and huge with an enormous liquor store upstairs and some of the most attractive men I've found in the city of Chicago.

I walked around the store with a slice of banana cream pie for about an hour, in a desperate attempt to find something that would satisfy my need to eat dinner. After many options, deliberations and running into the same adorable guy, I grabbed the box of taquitos that somehow knew my name and how to scream it and decided it was time to get on home.

So here I am. Half a slice of banana cream pie and a handful of taquitos deep in my evening and I'd say all in all it was an okay day.

I think tomorrow will be hours and hours and hours at the bookstore and some valuable blogging time. Unfortunately, the guys at that Starbucks are even bigger dicks than Johnny McYouMustBeRetardedFace.

I promise my blogs will gradually get more entertaining or gradually less entertaining very soon.


Maybe she's born with it.
Maybe it's mayonnaise.




*joke.

An Open Letter to the Gent I Like,

Hello. How are you? Great. Me too.

You look nice. You always look nice. I always want to say you look nice, but every time I try to give a compliment it comes off as insincere. SO... you look nice. No, that wasn't sarcasm. Ugh.

Your eyes are particularly blue tonight.

Um. So, I know you've made out with a few of the girls I know. And that's cool. Hell, if I were attractive, I'd make out with a bunch of attractive people too. But for some reason whenever we're in a social setting, regardless of who you came with or who is around, you always find your way to me. You hug me like you mean it. The last time you wouldn't let me go for a solid 30 seconds. We always talk and laugh and have genuinely interesting conversation. Why do you do that?

We flirt pretty hard and I've all but said the words "I like you". Is it that you need to hear them? Because I do. I like you. So much so that it's taken over my blog. My blog where I've shamed women who do exactly what I'm doing right now. You make me stammer when we talk. No man has ever made me stammer. I'm not the stammering type. I've given you every opening and opportunity to make a move. And while you've made so much progress over the past year and have very clearly gotten more comfortable around me and with flirting with me, there's still something missing. You made out with those girls, but you talk to me and flirt with me even when they're around. But if you made out with them, then you're clearly not too reserved to seek out what you want. Is that the problem? Am I misreading your seemingly clear signals? You see, you leave me confused. I don't want to mistake your sweet, kind nature for flirtation... and most of the time I don't feel like I'm mistaken at all. Until we part ways. Then it's brief texts and nothing until I see you by chance again.

So if you're out there in the ether reading this somehow, just know that I do like you. Know that I'd like to hear about your job and your life and your stories. I'd like to know you. And as much as I envy the girls I know you've made out with and regardless of whether or not I'm misreading your signals, I'm honored that you choose me to talk to when there's a room full of people probably far more interesting than I.

I have nothing to hide anymore.
So, if you're not out there in the ether reading this somehow, you will know soon.
And so will I.

Like,
Shface

New Years Eve

Fear not, anonymous loyal readers, this shant be another serious-why-am-I-unloved post. I promise.

Today I have been doing some thinking about... well, my thoughts. Meta, right? But I digress. I've been thinking about how much shit I take from people and why I do that. If I am in a bar and some stranger smacks my ass, I won't take a second to think before I turn around and punch that motherfucker in the face. So why is it so hard for me to ask for what I want in life?

I have a friend who took our friendship for granted and since left me in the dust.
You all now know I am being trounced upon beautifully by the gent I like.
*There are others, but two examples shall be enough.

Why do I let people walk all over me? I know why. Fear. If I tell my friend she's hurting my feelings, I fear she will lash out at me, make it my fault and be angry about the situation. If I tell the gent that I like him (though I believe I've literally done everything but) and he somehow (though he'd be misleading) didn't feel the same and rejected me, I don't know how my heart would take it.

But what's the alternative? Permit someone I trusted to be my friend to continue to hurt my feelings? Maybe if I tell her that she's hurting me, the hurt can stop one way or another. Carry on with the heartache of never knowing whether or not the gent wants to see me more than just occasionally?

Risks are better when they're taken. Unless it's the board game. Then you should pay for them.

How the fuck does this all tie in, Shface?!

I'm gettin' to it, calm down..

Today I made a decision regarding my life. New Years Eve 2013 is going to be a defining moment in my life. Last year I sat in my room and drank a bottle of black cherry rum until I blacked out. This year, I'm going to a party. I'm going to find the perfect dress. I'm going to be with my friends and be happy regardless of everything that's trampling me.

I've made December 31st my deadline to say what I want to say to everyone in my life. Everyone. Gent, my shitty friend, my father who I haven't spoken to in four years, everyone. I want to start 2014 with a clean slate. I want to know what the people around me are feeling and thinking and I don't want to spend my short life wondering what could have been.

Hmm. I guess this turned out to be a serious post after all. Well, that's two in a row now.

Boobies.

-Shface

Love - A Serious Post (I Know, It's Weird for Me Too)

I'm breaking the mold tonight.

I'm not a serious blogger in a couple senses. I don't do it often and I don't fare well with emotional material. Not just in blogging; in life too. I find that this is one of the things that probably makes me impossible to love, if you're not my mother or a friend I've had since I was eight. I realized recently that I don't find myself worthy of love. It just came out of my mouth one day. I don't know why I feel this way, but I'm sure it would take a team of really kickass psychiatrists to figure it out. I lead my life with a false sense of confidence that apparently was indecipherable even to myself.

I don't date. I refuse to. I hate the concept. I've never casually dated. Nothing about getting dolled up and pretending to be who you're not while painfully discussing your high school years and their relevance to what a shitty person you actually turned out to be is enticing to me. So, needless to say I have to really, really like a guy to be interested enough to date him. Please don't mistake this questionable fastidiousness for arrogance. I don't think I'm better than other people; I just don't fancy wasting my time. I have to know someone's personality, their level of intelligence to some degree, if they can differentiate between "your" and "you're". There are a lot of factors that make a man "dating material" in my eyes. Maybe I'm missing some great experience. As I never went to college, I don't think I was ever properly socialized. I'm socially awkward to say the least.

How is this myriad of rambles in any way relevant to anything, Shface?!
Keep your fucking panties on. I'm getting there.

Well, over the past year and a half or so, I have been "in like" with a gent. In serious like. I think about him all the time and when I do, I feel it in my gut. Like I'm going down the first drop of a roller coaster. I can feel it as I type this. I haven't felt this feeling for about five years. I... don't know what to do with these feelings. I see so many of my friends go from girlfriend/boyfriend to girlfriend/boyfriend without batting an eye. I don't do dating. I've only done two serious relationships in my entire life. Why do I not feel worthy enough to do anything about it? This wasn't even the initial reason I wanted to blog about love.. but I guess it all ties in.

In some respects, I'm happy to have been single for three and a half years now. It's comfortable. I have me. I can rely on me. I'll never leave me. But sometimes, it'd be nice to have someone look out for me. To pursue me. To listen. To talk to. To love me. And to love.

I've hit the swing of my social existence where a lot of my friends are breaking up in their relationships. It makes me sad for them. I remember that pain. I remember it well. I don't remember the love. The love now feels artificial. It wasn't, but it's such a distant memory now that it feels so absurd.

Is there a point to this post?
Not really.
I just had some genuine thoughts about what's going on in my head and my heart and my gut and I wanted to share them.. here.

And if you're reading this, gent, the ball is in your court. Lolz.

Goodnight, dipshits.

DON IS BACK

My quality laptop is again functional.
There are some videos a-comin' on my YouTube channel and I can easily blog here more.
So surprise. Here comes the fun.

Anyone else miss the Fishy McBites McDonalds commercials?

100 THINGS HAVING THIS BLOG HAS TAUGHT ME.

Well. It's my 100th post. Barely a milestone for how long I've had this blog-o-nonsense. So here's a list of things I've learned from having this blog. The title said that; I didn't have to.

Let's fuckin' do it...

100. It's okay to blog even if you only have one person that literally follows your blog. Cause sometimes other people read it. And strangers.

99. Urineface is not an acceptable word.

98. I'm always unsatisfied with Paranormal Activity movies no matter how much I liked them.

97. PLOTHOLES.

96. DANCEFIGHT!

95. Bud Light Platinum was a thing I was excited about and subsequently disappointed by, similar to my relationship with my father. Too soon?

94. Paula Deen cums butter.

93. The Woman in Black was pretty to look at but ultimately disappointing; similar to my last boyfriend. Too late?

92. Bitches masturbate.

91. Facebook sucks at ads.

90. I'm a terrible blogger.

89. Relationships are full of retarded bounds.

88. Dancin' Kim.

87. Have some manners, ya beast.

86. Virgin Mobile blows.

85. If you're not ready for a pet and you get a pet, you'll probably die.

84. Dr. Pepper 10 is the most misogynist beverage.

83. Cinco de Mayo only requires you to drink tequila and pretend to be Mexican.

82. DON'T JUDGE ME.

81. I'm a terrible blogger.

80. Keep your emotional Facebook status bullshit off my newsfeed.

79. Breaking up ain't the end of the world. And ain't ain't a word.

78. If you listen even a little bit, you can figure out what a woman wants for the gift-giving holidays.

77. The 90s were way fucking better than now. Eat it, milennials.

76. FUCK YOU, PEDIASURE!

75. Still a terrible blogger.

74. Some bitches don't blow they dudes. Also, I'm white.

73. I was wrong about Amanda Bynes.

72. My brainleaks are slightly terrifying.

71. Father's Day is the best day to take your mom out to lunch.

70. I admit I liked 50 Shades of Grey.

69. I admit I had the best marketing idea for 50 Shades of Grey. Idiots.

68. I remain the world's worst blogger.

67. Archer makes me hot.

66. How to Be Single is a blog entry I've been trying to figure out how to make into a video for a very long time.

65. 3D movies are better when there's no reason for them to be 3D.

64-60. People who want Miley Cyrus to still be Hannah Montana piss me off.

59. Faking happiness through Facebook is not happiness.

58. Faking happiness through Instagram is not happiness either.

57. Faking happiness in general is not happiness.

56. I've met a lot of celebrities... and I forgot about a lot of them.. because I have the memory of a goldfish.

55. Adding "the fuck?!" after each sentence does not make the funniest entry on your blog.

54. There is a right way and a very very wrong way to use your cell phone in public.

53. Seriously. I'm not a good blogger.

52. PMS always makes for a fun rant.

51. Facebook needs to stop trying to make me feel bad about stuff.

50. I've only had ten entries in 2013.

49. Told you I was a terrible blogger.

48. PerezHilton is a dipshit.

47. Kim Kardashian is a dipshit.

46. I take back whatever I said about Amanda Bynes and I wish her the best.

45. Black cherry rum gets you druuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuunk.

44. ...and you subsequently forget to blog.

43. Put down the botox, bitches.

42. Miley Cyrus is not a racist.

41. People who ragged on Miley and not on Robin Thicke post-VMAs are either ignorantly or intentionally misogynistic.

40. Gayz R kEwL.

39. I have A LOT of fucking pet peeves.

38. Dave Foley is lovely.

37. Greg Proops is lovely.

36. Greg Proops has a podcast that I cannot get enough of. Of which I cannot get enough.

35. Whose Live is the T1TZ.

34. Those cool gays can get married in Illinois now. YAY!

33. Fireball whiskey, amirite?

32. "Jessy" will never be a variation on the spelling of my name.

31-2. I'm a terrible blogger. And lazy.

1. IHAVEAYOUTUBECHANNELYOUSHOULDCHECKOUT.
SEE? I MADE IT REAL EASY FOR YAS. GO HERE. DO IT.

Here's to 100 more over the course of the next two years...

JESHFACE AND THE WHAT WOULD I SAY APP

Only YouTube Can Prevent Forest Fires... or Somethin'.

So back before vlogging and VidCon and all that shit, I used to vlog with friends. It was how we kept in touch living all over the country. We'd share little parts of our lives and set them free on the internet. One of my videos had about 60,000 views because I smoked a cigarette in it. The cigarette was not the point of the video; I was just a smoker at the time. I was unaware of YouTube's smoking fetish community.

That being said, I've vlogged on and off for the past six or seven years. Like an abusive relationship I just can't let go of, when I became unemployed this year, YouTube came calling. You see, friends, I am an aspiring comedian as most of you know. I want to do comedy for a living. I'd hate to see myself working some shit 9 to 5 job just to barely make ends meet. I'd rather take an enormous dock in pay and make people laugh and be creative for the rest of my life.

So the day I was fired, I immediately took to my camera. I shot probably somewhere around 10-15 videos over the past month. But I couldn't find my voice. I couldn't decide what I wanted to say or what I wanted my channel to be. I knew I wanted it to be funny and entertaining, but I found myself at a creative block. Making long, pointless vlogs that reiterated that I was bored and had nothing to say.

Today, I uploaded several videos to this channel and I feel proud and accomplished.  I shot two that were the same old thing and then I went back to an old idea I had. I shot it and I liked it. Then I shot another. They're not my finest work and I won't have the means to edit until I get my laptop back from Acer, but I laughed at what I put out into the internet ether. And I think that as long as I find it funny and it gets a little bit of the weirdness out of my brain, I'll call it success.

So I decided that structure, as always, is not for me. My channel will be a delightful cornucopia of comedy videos. There won't be a rhyme or reason to what I post. If I have an idea, I'm gonna go with it. And yes, this has all been an elaborate story to get you to watch. I want to laugh, but more than anything, I want to make other people laugh.

And I assure with my new technologies arriving in the coming weeks, things will actually look better on my channel soon as well.

You can find me on the YouTubes right HEEEEEERE!
Please subscribe if you wish and if you have any suggestions of things you'd like to see me do, don't hesitate to let me know.

My next project is in the works.


Love and all that shit,
shface.

Fireball, Improv, Unemployment, Pumpkin Spice, Greg Proops and Illinois

It's been a long time since I've written anything of substance here. However, a lot of things have happened in the interim. For your pleasure/torture, I shall summarize...

At the beginning of September, I met Dave Foley, who is my long time hero and love of my life. It was fucking majestic.
I also saw Greg Proops record his podcast.. but I'll get back to that one on a future blog because he deserves one on his own.

September was whatever.

Started doing improv shows at One Group Mind bi-weekly. (Come see them, you twats!)

I lost my job.

I am trying to get acting/comedy jobs in lieu of getting a shitty day job.

I decided I want to move to Los Angeles when my lease is up.

I realized that I have a fear of women who have a sickening love of pumpkin spice things.

I, however, found a deep, deep love for Fireball Whisky.

I saw Whose Line live. (Ryan Stiles is a real person!)
Illinois passed the Marriage Equality Bill. 

I have just eaten Chipotle for the first time in two months.

Great now we're caught up. 

How have you been?

I don't give a shit.

BYE!

Pet Peeves (Part 2 Maybe?)

I feel like I've posted about my laundry list of pet peeves before. However a few more have come to my attention within the last hour or so, so I wanted to share them. After all, why have a blog if you can't rant incessantly about things nobody cares about, right? Right? Shut up.

I hate when people only know a handful of things about you and that's all they bring into a conversation as a substitute for humor. Allow me to elaborate. If it's the year 2000 and Jenny really really likes NSYNC and then one day says "I'm so excited about the concert I'm going to next weekend" and someone says "Oh, NSYNC, huh?", THAT pisses me off. Just because Jenny is excited about going to a concert, does not automatically mean she's seeing the ONE band you know she likes. Jenny may have a shit ton of other interests.

I hate having to repeat myself. My mother has always told me that I mumble and I'm sure I do. However, I would truly rather you ignore what I said than ask me to repeat what I just said. For some reason it drives me nuts. Especially the people that do that lean-in thing when they're asking you to repeat what you said. Ughhh. That's the worst.

I hate when people half-ass things. If you're going to do something, do it all the way or don't fucking bother. It's more insulting to have to finish the dishes you didn't do than to just have to do them all. Ya dig?

I hate when people spell a variation on my name wrong. Most of my family calls me either Jess or Jessie. Which is fine, I'll respond to either. (Just don't call me Jessica. The only person with that privilege is my mother because she birthed me and any man I choose to date for a long period of time because that's just fucking love.) Now, somehow my family has a real issue with spelling my fucking name in its variation of "Jessie". As a kid, I spelled it "Jessi". I don't know why. I just wanted to be weird and different. (Imagine that.) However, my family will often spell it "Jesse", which is a fucking boy's name, first of all. That one doesn't bother me so much because gender roles are dumb. The one that really gets me is "Jessy". Like.. I have never seen an actual person spell their name like that. Ever. Even the spellcheck on this shit says it's fucking wrong. That's actually why I started going by "Jess" a few years ago..

I hate people without manners. I don't hate them as people, I hate their bad manners. Poor manners are just the worst. Behave like a good human. Say please and thank you. It's not rocket science.

I hate it when people try to hide information they don't even realize they've made public. You look like an idiot. Get a haircut.

I hate reverse veggie shamers. This one really grinds my gears. I have been an on and off vegetarian for the past ten years or so. Do I love animals? Most definitely. Do I sometimes share information that is beneficial about the process of meat makin' that breaks my heart? Guilty. Do I do it to shame others into giving up meat? Definitely not. Is a steak sometimes the most delicious thing possible? Fuck yeah. I love pigs and cows and chickens and the processes of making meat is absolutely cruel and terrible. That being said, I would never try and shame the everyday carnivore, even the ones in my life, into not eating the meat they so love. It's not my job to tell you how to eat or how to live. If you fucking love steak, eat your steak. Do it! However, I'd say 7 out of 10 times someone finds out I don't eat meat, they immediately get some kind of defensive. As if my not eating meat is going to cause me to preach about how they should not. That's where the reverse shaming comes in. "Plants have feelings too", blah blah blah. Shut the fuck up. Plants (sans Monsanto) aren't going to give me cardiovascular problems or pump me full of weird hormones. But even that's an argument left inside my head. If I'm not shaming you, why are you shaming me? Great. You love bacon. That's tits. I love pigs. That's tits too. Can't we just coexist without our eating habits even mattering? BACKDAFUQOFF!

Alright that's enough.

Gay 101

With the demise of DOMA and Prop 8 today, I've been trolling a lot of the news Facebook posts and squashing the hateful hopes of those opposed to gay marriage. So I thought it might be a cathartic move to make a blog post.

I want to preface this post by saying that I'm what's known as a "gay ally". I'm a mostly straight female. I've dabbled in the lady sexuals and I'm not opposed to it, but my primary attraction is to men. Kristen Wiig is always the exception to that rule.. but I digress.

I grew up in a primarily liberal household. Nothing extreme, but liberal nonetheless. I grew up saying things like "that's gay" and "what a fag". My first gay friend and I went to high school together. His name was Bob and I remember when he came out to me. I didn't have a reaction. I always kind of suspected. It wasn't a big deal. My second gay friend I met at a different high school. Since, I've had numerous gay friends. However, I don't consider them my "gay friends". They're my friends. They don't do friendship differently because they're gay. Also, before I left high school, I retrained my brain to stop saying "that's gay" and I haven't used the word "fag" or any incarnation of it for YEARS. That rhetoric is unacceptable.

Now, I'm going to do a few things. I'm going to bust some stereotypes and tell you some facts about homosexuality.

- Teaching homosexuality does not create or promote homosexuality. The only thing it promotes is equality. Teaching children that regardless of who you find attractive, you're still a valid human being and you're no different than anyone else.
- Homosexuality is not a choice. If you believe that it is, I want you to pinpoint the moment you chose to be heterosexual in detail. The odds are real good, as in there's a 99.999999% chance, that you did not choose it.
- Not all homosexuals are in love with you, so get over yourself. Listen, Karen, just because the woman sitting next to you at the bar just openly stated she's a lesbian, that doesn't mean that she's interested in you sexually... It just means you're both presumptuous and ignorant.
- Homosexuality is present in most species. We are the only species that rejects it.
- Religion and homosexuality are two very different animals. I respect your right to be Catholic, Christian, Baptist, Buddhist, Atheist, whatever you are. One of the perks of living in this country is a freedom to belong to whatever religion we so choose. However, when the subject of "gay marriage" comes up, somehow the first hat thrown in the proverbial ring is the bible. If you firmly believe the strongest point in the bible is that homosexuals are sinful and should not marry, then you have not read the bible. I was raised Catholic and became Agnostic at 18. Never was this an issue for me and it was barely addressed in our bible studies growing up. You know what was addressed? One of the central focuses of what is supposed to be the bible's message; treating others as you would like to be treated. Apparently many of "god's children" wish to be treated with outright prejudice and hate.  Please, for the love of your god, the next time you're trying to use religion as an excuse for your fear and ignorance toward homosexuality, realize that we are not all of your same creed. And even if you see that as unacceptable, it is not your place to tell other people how they can or cannot live. You cannot make choices for other people in the name of god. Perhaps instead of trying to denounce gay marriage, do something good for your community. Do something with a charity. Do something productive. I think anyone's god would want that over persecuting innocent people for who they love.
- Beastiality and homosexuality are not the same. Using that comparison is not only petulant, but it makes you look like an outright idiot. People that fuck horses are committing a form of rape. Homosexuals have safe, intimate, CONSENSUAL sexual relationships. Just STOP. No one is going to be impressed with this argument. They are just going to feel sad that you think this is a legitimate argument.

Homosexuality is natural. It's natural because it happens in nature. In all forms of nature. It has for years upon years. There's no denying that.

I hope one day we can live in a country more open-minded and willing to accept those who lead different lives and harm no one in the process.

I Miss Her Old Face

As I scroll through my Tumblr dash this morning, I come across a very recent photo of Courteney Cox. The first words out of my mouth were "I miss her old face". Then I realized, I say that a lot. And what does that say about women in Hollywood and therefore our society today?

Look, we're all born with something fucked up about us. We just are. That's life. I have a lot of those things, but would I actually go get work done to fix them? Probably not.

There was nothing fucked up about Courteney Cox's face. She was beautiful. She was my very first girl crush. I remember the day FRIENDS started back in '94 and I watched it religiously every Thursday. Courteney was my everything. The only thing she's trying to hide her formerly flawless face from is age. Age is something that seems to terrify women and men alike. Why? You know if you get that botox you're still going to be 50 years old right? You know if you buy that Jag you're still the same 52 year old man with a big car payment right?

Now, this is in no way a personal attack on Courteney Cox. While I hate Cougar Town and I think it kind of embodies a lot of what I hate about our society, I still adore Courteney. I think she's funny and adorable and I love her to bits. And there are many people guilty of this, not just her. Lindsay Lohan, who is my age (27) has had what appear to be cheek implants and collagen in her lips. WHY?! I mean, Lohan has a whole host of other problems, but does she really think that looks right? She was gorgeous before. (Also note - Bruce Jenner, Barry Manilow, Lisa Rinna (sp?), etc)

I would estimate 85% of all plastic surgeries to stem from fear. Fear of age, fear of rejection, fear of not being the most attractive. And while men are not immune to this, my concern here is for women.

So I just want to say the following...

Personally, I think plastic surgery to a degree that makes your face nearly unrecognizable is setting women back a bit. Age happens, ladies. We're all gonna get old. But if you take care of yourself and accept the fact that aging is a part of life, your care and confidence will allow you to age gracefully. Who are you getting this surgery for? Is it because you really cannot stand the way you look or is it because you're afraid of what other people will say about how you look? Reflect in and think about it. If you like the way collagen looks in your lips and it makes you comfortable and confident.. then great. But if you like the way collagen looks in your lips because men/women take notice.. you're setting your gender back. If you want to fuck with your face to please yourself, do it. I say fucking go for it. Give yourself a new face. But don't do it for someone else.

You're beautiful as you are no matter what anyone says. It's okay not to feel beautiful and it's okay to have to work your ass off to be what you feel is beautiful. But don't be someone else's version of beautiful.. because then you're living for someone else. Live for you.

Sorry this was more of a serious post today, but it's something that's been kind of bugging me lately.

Boobies.

Things I Fucking Love (pt. 1)

In an attempt to start blogging and vlogging more often, I'm trying to put down a sort of schedule for myself in an effort to be somewhat consistent. That said, I've dubbed Sunday "Things I Fucking Love" day, wherein I will tell you about things/products/foods/stuff/junk I fucking love as of now. So here is this week's Things I Fucking Love...

Coconut Oil
As a human with a number of stupid skin problems and hair that commits suicide all the time, I absolutely adore Coconut Oil. There's really not much you cannot use Coconut Oil for. It's an oil treatment for your hair, it's fucking great for your skin, it's a makeup remover, it's a sunscreen, it heals bacterial infections, it fades bruises. And that's just topical! You can also eat this magnificent stuff! It doesn't taste very good, but it's fucking phenomenal for the immune system, it works wonders on your skin and it also is an appetite suppressant. It has to be virgin and it has to be organic. There's a "that's what he/she said" joke in there somewhere, but I'm too lazy to find it. So go click up there where it says "Coconut Oil". No, not that one. The other one. The other one. The FIRST one! There ya go.

Black Cherry Rum
If you are of legal drinking age, or if you are not - your life choices are none of my business - get your filthy mitts on a bottle of Cruzan Black Cherry Rum and a 2L of Diet Pepsi. Add ice and good god, it's a Wild Cherry Pepsi that will fuck you up!

Bill Hader!
It wouldn't be a day if the day didn't involve something about Saturday Night Live. This week, Bill Hader is on the list of things I love. Homeboy celebrated his 35th birthday on the 7th and will of course no longer be on SNL. So let's just celebrate his face. And sweater choices. Herb Welch lives!

Improvisation
As an improviser, I fucking love improvising! It's that simple. If you've never seen improv, do yourself a favor and find the nearest venue! You can find a Second City in Chicago, Toronto and Hollywood. Or there's always UCB NY or The Groundlings. And certainly there are smaller, lesser known theatres with improvised shows as well.

Toddlers and Tiaras
I want to preface this one by saying that I fucking hate reality tv.. but somehow T&T always sucks me in. The parents are usually awful people and the concept of pageants makes me sick.. but it's like a trainwreck I cannot get enough of.

Simple Skin Products
I have very angry, very sensitive skin. I have a little bit of an obsession with skin products because I like to experiment and see which ones work and what they do, consumerism blah blah blah. My friend told me about Simple skin wash and I tried it and I fell in love with it. Fucking in love with it. And every skincare product I've bought from them has been amazing. I recommend the face wash, the exfoliating cloths, the toner and the moisturizer. They're only a little bit pricey, but they're worth it.

Alright, idiots. That's all of my things I fucking love for today.
Have a stellar Sunday, kittens.

Perez Hilton, Amanda Bynes, Kardashians and all the other worst things America has to offer...

I want to preface this blog post by saying that I have a love/hate relationship with celebrities and pop culture. There are a few celebrities whose lives I'm interested in. Not deeply invested, but just slightly interested in.

That being said, in this weirdass, beyond voyeuristic society we live in, there is a very fine line between stalking and "paparazzi", between "a source tells us" and outright slander. And while celebrities really deserve no pity for the life they are handed to play pretend and other people to watch, I have to say that over the past few years I've begun to feel sympathy for a lot of them.

The trigger pulled on this blog post is of course the saga that is Amanda Bynes. I don't know where I stand on Amanda Bynes. Not that it matters where I stand. I don't know her. I will never know her. Her daily life is no concern of mine.

She may be perfectly fine. She may only smoke tobacco and never drink. She may have been set up for a DUI. She may have only thrown a vase out a window. A NY cop may have sexually assaulted her. But because the powers that be are the media, we may never know which is the truth.

Now, does it appear as if she's fine? No. She's showing signs of a potential mental illness. Possibly schizophrenia or severe bipolar disorder. Or is that just what the media wants us to see?

This unanswerable question brings me to my next question...

Who are these "sources"?

I have to be honest when I say that if I read a magazine article or a blog post and the sentence begins or ends with "A source close to XYZ says..", "a source said" or anything where the source is unnamed, I immediately discredit the article or blog post and stop reading right there. Because to be honest, if you cannot name your source and it is not a report on some underground political mishap or something, I don't buy it.  You made that shit up and there's no one to say you did not. Period.

Now how does this all tie in to Perez Hilton specifically?

Aside from Perez being the master of the unnamed source articles, he's also an enormous hypocrite. A while back when he vowed to stop bullying celebrities in the name of blog, I immediately gained some respect for him. I never really cared for Perez, but his site always did bring in the best celebrity gossip. Plus his website was easier to navigate than TMZ's. So, honestly, it came down to laziness for me.

But recently, he's sort of going back to his old ways. He preaches all day long about being a good person and being a healthy person. Health also includes mental health. If you're trying to tell people to be better people and to practice good health, wouldn't it be prudent to lead by example?

That aside, in the case of Ms. Bynes specifically, Perez found it necessary to begin harassing her. On her sprees of calling people ugly, he got thrown in there. Upon my own mini investigation, I noticed that this was because he was harassing her on twitter. Trying to get a rise out of her. Trying to make her lash out so he could screen cap it, put it on his blog and cry victim. Mind you, this is someone he maintains was his "friend". He's harassing his alleged "friend", who has the potential to be mentally ill to get her to lash out at him in the name of a juicy blog post. To me that's just out and out harassment.

Personally, I don't give a shit about Amanda Bynes. It's a shame to see someone in a downward spiral, but I don't know what goes on in her life. None of us see it. She very well may be happy and healthy. And I certainly don't give a shit about Perez Hilton. I think he's an obnoxious jackass who loves attention. But I do care when people become spiteful hypocrites toward those who can't defend themselves.

This is what America is now. And I fucking hate those Kardashians. Why do you care?! They're not even interesting! I'd rather listen to Kathleen Turner and Fran Drescher have orgasms in surround sound for a week straight than listen to any of the Kardashians talk for thirty seconds. If you smashed all their IQs together you'd get a total of cheesecake. Bruce Jenner's face looks like a vagina.

Which is gonna kill us faster; deep frying stuff or GMOs?

Channing Tatum looks like a monkey.

This blog is getting out of hand.

I think I've made my point?

An Open Letter to Jenna Marbles,

Hi, Jenna. My name is Jess. I realize I'm writing you a letter on my own fucking blog, but let's just ignore that for now.. considering there's a real good chance you'll never read this anyway. I'm 27 and I'm from Chicago.. and I don't always sound like a retarded robot.

I've been a fan of yours since the beginning and I love your videos. You made Sexual Wednesday a thing and ya give my chihuahua something ogle at for a few minutes every week (Marbles). He's a fabulous little gay boy if Marbles is ever lookin' for a hot date.

Anyfuckinway, your most recent Draw My Life video was really, really touching. It cut me to the core because I've been there. So lost in life. Not even necessarily unhappy, but just lost a little. I think everyone hits that bottom now and again. It teaches you to appreciate the best parts of life, I think.. I dunno, I'm not a doctor.

Anyfuckinwhey, I just wanted to say that I realized when I was feeling those lost feelings (post-breakup at the time as well), that was around the time I found your videos. You taught me to feel like a comfortable, confident human woman child person and not the mousy little nothing I was. You changed my life and how I look at myself and others. You helped me to stop hating other women for no reason. You taught me to wear shoes I can wear all night and not just for two hours. You took all the words out of my mouth about hating being a grownup. You taught me how to Landshark. You taught me that looking good doesn't have to come from some expensive designer shit. You taught me how to not give a single fuck, but still be a compassionate human being. You helped me find confidence. You helped me find myself. I hope someone can give you a hand to help you up when you're feeling lost the way you did for me.

Thank you for everything, Jenna.

Love and love and things that rhyme with love,
jeshface