5 Things You Should Definitely Not Bother Doing

1.  Eat your weight in ice cream.  Look, I know right?!?!  Sounds fantastic eh?  But I bet there’s a few things you haven’t really thought through.  You’ll get fat.  But it’s so much more than that.  By deciding to do this you’ll be entering into some kind of never ending “eating your weight” snowballing-time-space-continuum where as your weight is ever increasing from eating the ice cream, you’ll subsequently have to consume more and more ice cream in order to make it match your weight, which is continuously increasing.  You see?  Do you see?  It’s madness I tell you, madness.  Sugary delicious cold smooth and creamy heaven like madness, but madness nonetheless.  It’s essentially suicide.  So, you are welcome.  I basically just saved your life.  No worries though, you can pay me back by taking me out for ice cream.

 

2.  Start a rock band.  Let’s face it.  This is just stupid.  You can’t play any instruments, you can’t sing…and to be completely honest you don’t have any friends.  Better just stick to singing along to rockband by yourself…what’s that song that you love again…I’m a creeeeeep.

 

3.  Learn to shoot a bow and arrow.  I don’t know.  Maybe it was that Lord of the Rings marathon you had over Christmas holidays that Legolas sure is fox in tights if ever there was one.  Or maybe it was that one bizarre night when you got super drunk and dialed your crazy ex…went over to his house…had sad pathetic mistake sex and he has since promised to keep his distance only watching you from afar though he defines afar as through your bedroom window and on surveillance cameras that he installed when you went out shopping a few days ago.  Whatever it was, you got it into your head that becoming an Archer was one of your ‘must do’ activities of 2013.  Not to worry though, I’m here to stop this nonsense and save you from yourself.  Before you know it you’ll have spent $300 on a specialty bow and arrow set that will only get used once because when you wake up the next day to take stock of the injuries inflicted you shot your neighbor in the arm while he was out mowing his lawn, forearm bow-string burn, numerous paper cuts from taking down and putting up your target, you basically almost died! you’ll never touch it again.  Plus, paper cuts really hurt, yo.  Use your head.

 

4.  Stop stalking your crush.  Now I know what you’re thinking (huh?).  You’re confused (what?).  You’re unsure (uhhh?).  Am I really advising you to continue stalking your crush??  I sure as fuck am!!  I mean, you’re almost there.  I can practically feel her caving from here.  I’m telling you, it’s working.  If it’s not the excessive telephone calling followed by hangups or the endless texting of What Dooin? that wins her heart, it’ll be the way you regularly drive by her house or respond to everything she ever tweets on twitter (and I mean everything…even the jokes that require no reply).  I’m getting all ooey-gooey just thinking about the romance of it all.  Swoon.  I’ll be eagerly waiting for my invitation to the wedding.  I’ll want to have the chicken not the fish, just sayin’.

 

5.  Find a career that makes you happy.  I mean, sure, in theory this is a great idea.  But can we be realistic for a minute here? What with having to update your skills on your resume and having to take an hour to brainstorm all the possible career paths that might be compatible with your specific skill set like extensive knowledge of She-Ra comics, the ability to eat an entire pot roast in one sitting and an affinity for not wanting to touch coins because they’re just dirty and cold, I mean honestly, you really just don’t have that kind of time.  Plus, if you were to get a job where you were happy, it might lead to having the energy to finally use that gym membership (that you pay heavily for every month), you wouldn’t need to drink constantly and thus you’d probably bankrupt the liquor industry and those people have families too ya know.  I mean Think of the children!!!  Plus what about all the ex-girlfriends/boyfriends that will feel unloved if you were to stop getting almost blackout drunk on weeknights and drexting them gems like whaaaaat r u oing now? and I loooooooooooooooooooooove you and fuck you i dun lov you anyway and my favorite of them all alkdjf duqlen oin;as; me.  So, be responsible, be a good person, and be miserable for the sake of this world.

 

Dear Boys, What Are You Wearing?

Something She Said

Stories about sex and dating, screenshots of sexist online dating messages, murder jokes, elaborately long fruit puns–you never quite know what you’re going to get.

What are you wearing?  That’s what the message says.  What are you wearing?  That’s what all the messages say, from all the boys, at some time or another, and I haven’t a fucking clue how to respond.  Hell, I’m not even entirely sure it’s a question.  I’m stumped.

 What do you want from me?!?!?!?

 

When you ask this thing what are you wearing?; when you say these words what are you wearing?; when your message appears across my screen what are you wearing?:  I mean, am I supposed to tell you the literal truth?  Because here’s the thing of the thing.  When you and I are together, when we’re at the stage that I’m ready for you to see the skivvies, oh yeah, I’m wearing the Red Lacies.  The sexy boy shorts.  This illicit thing.  For sure.  But when I’m at home, alone, away from you.  You can be damn sure that I’m wearing my adorable jogging pants.  No they’re not tight, they’re just normal, don’t make this weird.  They’re regular soft and stretchy comfy pants.  So no, I’m not wearing that sexy lingerie you’re dreaming of.  And no, I’m not sauntering around naked.  Don’t be an idiot.  I have shit to do.  Like cooking bacon that splatters.  Or jazzercising in front of open windows.  And that stuff can’t be done naked.    Obvs.

But I mean I get it.  I’m a writer, after all, I can be creative.  I can amp it up for you.  But is that what you want?  Is that really what you’re asking me?  Do you want me to create some verbal fantasy that I think you’ll think is sexy?  Or are you aiming for a realistic picture of how adorable hot I look in real life, at that very moment?  Or is there a third (and forth) possibility?  Are you hoping this will lead to sexting or phone sex?  Or even more hopeful, is this your way of testing the waters of booty call lake, to see if I’m interested in getting wet, in having a quick dip?  I honestly don’t know what your deal is, boys, and thus, here is my plea:

Dear boys,

My dear sweet boys.  What is it exactly that you want from me?  The reality of it all?  Or do you want the smoke and mirrors and pay no attention to that man behind the curtain?  Do you want to be able to picture me in the very way that I am, at that very moment that you message me?  Or is your aim the sugar and sexy spice that comes standard on our date nights?  Are you trying to get into my skivvies?  Is this the time for fantastical fictional narratives?  Honestly, tell me boys, seriously, what the fuck do you want from me when you type those confusing words–What are you wearing?

Yours Truly,

Judgey Wudgey

aka Something She Dated
aka Your favorite jogging pants sexter
aka That girl at the coffee shop
aka flip that bacon girl it’s burning
aka Dating Vancouver a better place one “something” at a time