Tuesday, February 25, 2014


File this under WTF DID YOUR MAMMA TEACH YOU???!?? —>  DON’T break up with someone on their birthday.

Do I really need to explain this…again??

Is there some sort of alternate planet people are living on where birthdays AREN’T special and no big deal if you make someone wish they had never been BORN on the very day of their birth???


William, my friend Allison’s ex-boyfriend, wasn’t exactly on another planet, but he was in another country.

He was in Spain.

For Allison’s 22nd birthday.

With Allison.

Tagging along on HER trip abroad in college.


Yes, William decided he was going to fly ALL THE WAY ACROSS THE WORLD to be with her on her birthday and then drop bombs. 


Birthday terrorist.

William and Allison had been dating on and off for YEARS and even though he was older than she was, they both had a lot in common and enjoyed each other’s company.

When Allison said she was going to Spain for two months to do an accelerated Spanish program, William was nothing but supportive and planned a trip to see her SPECIFICALLY for her birthday. His trip had been decided months prior.

Now, just because you decide to break up with someone doesn’t mean it should ruin a perfectly good vacation.

Just kidding. DON’T go on vacation.

But William was living on another planet (planet douche) and he was going on vacation, dammit.

He was going to Spain and there’s no place like SPAIN to tell someone that maybe ya’lls age difference is too great and you should part ways.



P.S. He dropped this news at her intimate candlelit birthday dinner.


Insert voice of Stephanie Tanner: How RUDE

He should have just sent her an email with his age difference concerns.

After the BOMB, William told her that he doesn’t have enough money to go stay somewhere by himself, so…"let’s just make the best of what’s left of my trip.”



I'm sorry...the "best"?????


I personally would have thrown him out the ventana (Spanish for window.)

To make matters even WORSE (and even more like a movie scene) Allison started crying right there at the table and said the old man server thought she was upset because it was her birthday.

“The guy kept repeating, 'Why you cry, you not old, very pretty,’” she recalls.


…Which made her cry even more.

(At least SOMEONE gave her a compliment on her birthday)

The whole thing was just horrible. 


Put this dude in a room with no ventanas.


Friday, February 21, 2014

That time I won the Olympics

Spoiler alert: I won the team GOLD MEDAL at this year’s Winter Olympics.


(No, I did not eat the medal like a McDonald’s chicken nugget.)

I know, I know, you’re tired of hearing/watching/reading about the Olympics. 

As my twin sister, Joy, pointed out last night: “We’ve been watching this for a month.”

Also, she’s “over” ice skating. Haha

But back to MY medal. Sorry, the TEAM medal – Joy included.

This is the second time Joy and I have competed in the Winter Olympics, a hilarious party thrown every four years by friends who know the importance of athleticism and drinking.

At our Winter Olympic debut in 2010, we dressed as Swedish meatballs representing the motherland, which gave us zero competitive edge and we ended up in 10th place.

This year, the rules were slightly different. The Olympic Games party was combined with a birthday party for one of the organizers and held at a dive bar rather than a backyard.

In addition to athletic events, we needed to come up with a county name, flag and cheer that incorporated the birthday girl’s name and interests.

Which was pretty easy because her last name is Pew. Do you know how many things rhyme with Pew? (Uh…two.) Ha

Do you know how many dirty slang phrases can be made using PEW?

It made for a pretty funny opening ceremony. (Helped by the fact that there were craft supplies and cut-outs of the birthday girl’s face to put on the "flags.")

The islands of "Puff Puff Pew" took first for creativity/extracurricular activities.

OUR TEAM representing the country of Pew-topia. Official team motto:"Pew in the pink..."

While everyone was busy making their signs and fueling up on ORANGE GATORADE DAQUIRIS (!!!!!!!!) (for the electrolytes...duh) the first athletic event began. 

A jumprope competition.


Now, I don’t know if you know this because I’M WAY MODEST, but I’m a world champion jumproper. 

Really!!! The 1994 World Invitational jump rope skipping championship in Seattle, Washington. 


Yes, this actually happened. And jumping rope is like riding a bike. (well...figuratively.)

So, when the competition was to see who among the teams can jump the most number of times in a minute, I smiled big, took a shot of liquor and WON THAT SHIT THREE TIMES OVER.

I highly recommend putting yourself in a (positive) situation where people’s jaws drop. It makes you feel pretty badass.

And if it weren’t for my stupid non-sports bra falling down, down, down…OH GODdown with every jump, I would have pushed up it even more. 

Dammit BRA!!! Ruining the Olympics since 2014.

My final result was 153 revolutions in 60 seconds. Which, ahem math majors, is more than two jumps a second, for a minute straight. RAWR.

(Then I did another shot of liquor.)

My feat  feet were so impressive that the remaining countries’ athletes didn’t even attempt to beat that number (the team before me had an admirable 45-50 revolutions per minute).

Country “Puff Puff Pew” during their turn with the rope laid the rope on the ground and all four teammates jumped to the right and left of it as a joke.

Even though they forfeited, the referee announced that their jumps combined still weren't enough to beat my score. Ha. RAWR.

So we got a point for Pew-topia.

This trivia was centered around the birthday girl, like what country her dogs were bred, for example, how long is the Inca trail to Machu Picchu (which she hiked with the swine flu several years ago) and what percentage of pineapples are exported from Hawaii, her honeymoon destination.

We tied for first place, because a conditioned athlete on our team knew that the birthday girl once had sex in a deer stand.



The next event was hula hooping, in which Team Pew-topia failed miserably. Nothing to report. A Swedish meatball would have done better.

Then came the group cheer, also worth a point. 

Each country had to perform their special routine and add flair as needed. 

We won that one too, helped by a fellow countryman’s ACTUAL SPLIT and my attempt at twerking. 

(Also our Charlie’s Angels-style finish with guns that made a “PEW PEW PEW!” sound.)

It was close, but team Pew-topia won the 2014 Olympic Games and we graciously accepted our mini-bottles of Fireball.

And twerked some more.

the judges' final scores

WINNERS!!! Why yes that IS a picture of Kip from Napoleon Dynamite and "I'm Training to be a Cage Fighter" on my shirt.

What a comeback from 2010!!!!

After four long years of waiting for the glory, it finally arrived in the form of priceless Big Bird medals, and we took a bow in front of all the other worthy countries except the county of Puff Puff Pew, because they were out back doing something. 


So, no need to keep watching the winter Olympics on TV!

The winners have already been crowned!!!

I’m currently accepting sponsorships.  Either from Jump Rope for Heart, or Victoria’s Secret.


The Olympics are delicious!!! 


(Training now for 2018.)


Tuesday, February 18, 2014


I had to Urban Dictionary the term “SMH” because everyone kept writing it on Facebook (I wanna be cool, too!!) and I found out it means “Shaking my head,” like in a bad way.

I haven’t ever used that term, because words need VOWELS (haha nerd), but I’m going to break that rule today because “SMH” is literally the only way to describe what this guy Jackson did to my friend Emily.

Jackson and Emily first met at a bar near her house, and quickly realized they had a lot of friends in common and figured they must have met in passing before.

They exchanged numbers and flirted over text message and in person for months. 

Jackson was very cute. So very cute, in fact, that Emily said he was the cutest guy she had ever met in real life.

And he seemed to like her, which was beyond flattering. He was a graphic designer, which added to his appeal, and she would fantasize about him being her boyfriend.

But in reality, they would just make out late at night outside the bar. 

Until one day, when Jackson asked her out to dinner for the next night. SWOON.

They had a nice time on their date and a lot of wine and when he dropped her off, they uh...dropped both their pants (haha)

Emily said it was REALLY fun and she woke up the next morning feeling awesome (“He’s SO hot!!!”

They both went to work and said they’d text each other later. 

But then Emily didn’t hear from Jackson the entire day. 

Ugh. How annoying.

The “feeling awesome” quickly turned into feeling cheap and gross.

She he had no idea how gross.

For, when Emily woke up the next day, she checked Facebook and looked in horror at her news feed.

Jackson had “checked into” the local hospital. 




“Dude. Been peeing blood for a week,” was his caption.





(You do the math.)

Emily screamed so loud her roommate woke up.



HOW CAN SOMEONE POSSIBLY THINK THAT IT'S OK to sleep with someone after they've been PEEING BLOOD for a week?!?!????

Who DOES that???




Emily sent Jackson the nastiest (fitting) text she has ever sent. 

“How completely horrible to read this on Facebook and to know you and I were together when you had this issue, do I now need to go to the hospital?”

There is no fear quite like finding out the person you slept with the night before has had a prolonged bloody infection in his penis that he neglected to tell you about. 

(And let’s not forget the obvious: you slept with someone who thinks it’s OK to post this news on Facebook. NO ONE WILL LIKE IT.)

Jackson responded saying it wasn’t contagious, it was a kidney stone or two or five at the ripe age of 32.

That didn’t make up for it. The whole thing was completely horrifying.

Is this going to have to be a new question to ask dudes before sleeping with them? 

“Ok, now, let’s go down the list…are you currently peeing blood? Because that’s a non-negotiable.”

It never ceases to amaze me the complete idiots there are in this world, many disguised as hot guys. 

Still today, Jackson refuses to admit he did anything wrong.





Tuesday, February 11, 2014


I heard the most amazing story this weekend from my friend Drea about the most uncomfortable date she’s ever been on, and I’d like it be a public service announcement for a lesson in problem-solving.

Yes! Problem-solving!

Because Ryan had problems, ya’ll.

Drea and Ryan are both in their mid-30s and met while watching the Superbowl at a trendy bar. They got each other’s emails (no clue haha )and started emailing each other at work during the day 

(Ed note: Work email messages! Such a lost art.)   

Their emails were very cute and funny and Drea was excited when Ryan asked her out for that Saturday night. He said there was a Mediterranean restaurant that had amazing lamb kabobs and she had to try them.

Drea immediately said yes; she hadn’t been on a date in a long time and was really excited about the prospect.

They agreed to meet at the restaurant and when Drea arrived, Ryan said he already put his name in for a table. They sat the bar and ordered pre-dinner cocktails.

Drea said Ryan wasn’t as cute as she remembered but still gave it 110 percent.

They were at the bar for a good 45 minutes and no one had come up to them about their table.

“Are…you sure they know you’re sitting at the bar?” Drea asked.

“Yes,” Ryan said, although he had not told a hostess they were sitting at the bar.

After 45 MINUTES (45 minutes!!! Making small talk while STARVING), Drea finally told him she was really hungry and maybe they could order a little appetizer in the meantime.

He shifted uncomfortably and asked the bartender for menus.

“So…what are you in the mood for?” Drea asked Ryan as they perused the menu.

“Oh. Nothing. I’m not hungry,” Ryan said.


“What? What do you mean you’re not hungry?” Drea asked.

“Oh, I ate before I came,” he said.


“So, I’m just supposed to eat by myself while you…watch me?” Drea asked.

"Maybe I'll have a bite," he said.


What guy asks a girl out to dinner and then DOESN’T eat dinner??!?

(Answer: One with problems.)

Drea was not amused. So far she had been disappointed by Ryan, it was now creeping up on an HOUR past dinnertime and he didn’t seem to care at all. The hostess still hadn’t come up to them.

Drea then told Ryan they should just stay sitting at the bar and order dinner so it doesn’t look as “weird” with her eating solo.

(“Can you imagine if we had actually sat down at a table and ordered one dish on a Saturday night???” Drea recalls. “The server would have flipped out.”)

Drea stared longingly at the appetizers on the menu that she thought they could split, a hummus dip, maybe some BABAGANOUSH, but since Ryan WASN’T HUNGRY, she politely ordered the $15 lamb kabob. By itself.

“You said it was delicious right?” she asked.

She was still starving.

Ryan ordered them another round of drinks and then the one, single dish arrived. 

The ONE dish placed in front of Drea while Ryan sat there…watching her eat.

“Do you want an extra plate maybe?” she asked, feeling like a glutton.

Now, I’ve never eaten by myself on a dinner date, so I don’t know this uncomfortable-ness, but Drea said she kept wanting to do the small-talk like, how’s your meal? And trading samples and stuff.

This situation cut into that dynamic and she said she ended up eating alone, not talking because she was trying to chew.

Ryan didn’t seem fazed or apologetic. 
Or anything

(Thankfully, the lamb was delicious.)

Drea then excused herself to go to the bathroom and called her best friend to say that she’s going to try and cut the date short and stop at Taco Bell on the way home because she was still hungry.

When she returned to the table bar, the bartender asked them if they wanted another round and even though Drea could use a vodka or 50, Ryan immediately said they were “good.”

“Ok, well…um…do you…want to go somewhere else?” Drea asked, already coming up with a reason why she wasn’t going to be able to do that.

“...Or…do you want to call it a night?”she offered.

“Well,” Ryan said. “First I’ll have to see how much my tab here is.”




...Which is why he didn’t order any dinner???

“Oh,” Drea said, feeling completely mortified.

What, did I just spend his last $40???  she thought. Is he going to be eating Ramen noodles for the rest of the week now?

It was odd. Odd, odd, odd, especially considering that Ryan had a very good job, one that she KNOWS pays more than her own salary and she could afford a $15 kabob. 

Mortified and feeling supremely guilty about eating all of his lunch money, Ryan looked at the bill and then confirmed, “Yea, I don’t have any money to go anywhere else after this.”




Girls don’t want to hear that you’re broke, even less that you’re THAT broke. 

Especially not on a first date.

Now here’s where the problem-solving comes into play.

If you have MONEY problems (and maybe they were unexpected money problems, I don’t know) change date plans from dinner to lunch.

And make lunch a picnic in the park.

Or postpone for a week! Damn.



(You’d think this was common sense.)

I mean, dinner was HIS idea. It wasn’t like she insisted they go to a pre-fixed $75 a person dinner and he was blindsided.

HIS idea to go to this very mid-priced restaurant on a Saturday night! 


And he somehow finds it OK to not order food without explanation, let his date know that she spent his last $35 and then let her know he’s so broke he can’t even afford a beer now. 


Ryan’s got problems.

...And an F minus in dating.

After thanking him profusely, Drea then insisted she take a cab home rather than have Ryan drive her (GAS IS EXPENSIVE AFTER ALL) and hahahahahahaha

She ended up spending $30 on the cab, more than her entire dinner cost.

But Drea said it was worth it, because she didn’t want to be around Ryan for one more minute after that.

So, she solved the problem.


Friday, February 7, 2014

Unisex Valentine’s Day gifts

Last year, I wrote a list of Valentine’s Gifts That Sound Lame But Aren't, and I decided to write another one this year with a unisex gift theme.

Maybe it’s because I keep getting Valentine’s Day gift offers in my email and most of their suggestions are hilariously terrible.

Various online websites, Bustle, SKYMALL want you to give the man in your life whiskey rocks (frozen square rocks that take the place of ice so his whiskey doesn’t get watery). And cufflinks.

But since you can just pick up rocks on the sidewalk and put them in the freezer and, who needs cufflinks?? I decided to come up with a list of gifts that I think are cooler and more meaningful and will get people to remember you (and your awesome gift) even if ya'll break up.

A really good knife

I never knew the power of a really good knife until I got one for my birthday this year and it’s the only knife that’s constantly dirty in my kitchen. I use it all the time and I don’t even cook that much!!! 

Who knew that a really good knife makes chopping tomatoes SUPER easy?!? It’s refreshing. 

The one I was given was a chef-style knife by Shun, if you want to splurge (Williams Sonoma). And it’s red!! 

(Bonus: if you happen to break up, you can always make “she put a knife in my heart” jokes.)

Inside joke art

Art is always good. Definitely local art. But a step better, get art made of an inside joke or phrase that can be put on the wall!! 

My friend in New Orleans does small chalk art, and many local artists can commission a piece with your particular phrase in swooping, fancy letters. 

For example, the first time I told this one guy he was special he said, “That’s why I keep a helmet in my trunk” and it was so funny and it was an ongoing joke between us for months. 

If I was still dating him, I’d get that phrase done in chalk on the wall. (Then again...I’m special.)

Rain boots

No matter where you live (well, except Los Angeles), it’s ‘GON rain at some point. 

Rain boots are way handy when a torrential downpour happens, when you go to a muddy music festival, a rainy Mardi Gras parade, or when you need to put shoes on and get something out of your car right quick.

My old roommate in New Orleans had awesome cheetah print rain boots and kept them by the door and I miss borrowing them. 

You can be fancy and get HUNTER boots like Prince William and Kate Middleton, but really, any rain boots (NOLABOOTS here!!) are good. 

And what guy you know HAS rain boots?? Start a trend! Walk in puddles together! Take pictures of baby ducks!

Pasta roller machine

Re-enact Lady and the Tramp! 

Also, who doesn’t love pasta??? (If you’re dating someone who doesn’t love pasta, re-evaluate.) 

This is a cool and cheap gift that someone can use for years. And they can make all kinds of pasta with it - spinach pasta, red pepper pasta, even scallop pasta (watch Top Chef New Orleans finale). Even better, YOU get to benefit from their newfound culinary skills! 

You can even beef it up (huh huh get it) by getting a jar of super fancy pasta sauce to go along with it, maybe even some sausage in your pants and a card with an innuendo joke.

Business cards

Give his/her entrepreneurial spirit a BOOST with specialized business cards!! Even just their name and “I do stuff,” “I fix computers” “I walk dogs”

Or even: “I make pasta”


Getting business cards is a useful way to show that you’re supportive of your significant other's skills/hobbies/LIFELONG DREAM. And it's cute to know that you spent time designing and customizing it.

And no joke, 250 business cards are $8 at Vistaprint through Feb. 11. $8!!! I can’t even buy lunch for that.

“Aloe-infused” socks

Ok, maybe this one is more for the ladies, but it’s been cold as sh*t lately and everyone has been wearing socks around the house (dramatic hand on forehead). 

And you don’t KNOW luxury until you know what it feels like to put your cold, tired feet into ALOE VERA-lined socks.

They make your feet feel so good and so soft that you can't stop wiggling your toes in them. It’s like walking on an oily cloud!! Uh...in a good way.

Bonus: they’ll make your feet look cuter for flip-flop weather. You can usually get them at local spas in their gift area, or, you know, WalMart.


Because hers are cheap and his are dorky and probably have “reflective lenses.”


There are a ton of cheap name brand sunglasses these days (thanks Obama economy) and websites like bluefly.com and even Sunglasses Hut have super discounted Ray Bans and other names I don’t know because I don’t own nice sunglasses.

I suggest aviators, because I think everyone (male and female) looks good in aviators. 

And with this gift, you can also add an accompanying card like “you are my (sunshine emoticon)” or “Yo! Future so bright.”

Month at a weird gym

Haha that picture.

I feel like everyone (side note: my arms hurt) is trying to work out more (#30sproblems) and getting your man or woman a month at a gym is not only super awesome but also a forced way to get them to think about you every time they go to a class!!! (Uhh...I may have issues.)

A month at a “traditional” gym works, but even better are weird or specialized gyms to give people a taste of something new. 

Every girl I know (Me! Me!) would LOVE a month at a barre class place, for example. Guys might like a month at a kickboxing or martial arts place. (In New Orleans, Mid City MartialArts and Fitness is great). 

Even more off the grid, in New Orleans, sign her up for The Chorus Girl Project and watch her learn and perform a dance from the 1920s!!! (It’s a hoot.)

And there you have it. 

My unisex Valentine’s Day gift list.


But don't worry. If all else fails, you can always just pick up some rocks on the sidewalk and put them in the freezer  :)


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