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Mark Seliger for W Magazine

Unacceptable: The above cover for W Magazine. I know it's old (Nov. 2010) but somehow I just saw it and I never want to see Kim Kardashian near the name Salvador Dali ever, ever, again.

Acceptable: W Magazine printing a conversation Kim has with herself on their cover.

Acceptable: The U.S. Government is finally getting rid of that color coded terrorist alert system. I guess nine years of creating mass fear in a nation was just too much.

Unacceptable: Indianapolis' WXIN for conducting "Indianapolis' golden voice," where a reporter stopped random homeless people on the streets to see who had a great singing voice. The looks on their faces after coming to the realization that the media was making a bit of a mockery of them after they thought they may have finally been saved was not MasterCard priceless.

Acceptable: Jon Stewart calling out Indianapolis for being complete D-bags.

Unacceptable: The Real Housewives of Orange County. Just STOP would you? You are making Orange County look terrible one lip injection at a time. It’s not normal to be that tan, that blonde and that dumb.

Acceptable: The Real Housewives of any other city simply because I am not from there. I appreciate misrepresentation if I am not an affiliated member of the party.

Acceptable: Oprah going off daytime TV to her own network where she belongs. I have nothing against Oprah, I just have a problem with the fact that she can’t use indoor voices. If I have to hear that woman yell-talk about her favorite sheets again, I am going to throw my TV out the front door.

Unacceptable: Kelsey Grammer moving away to do his 29-year-old fling, I mean Broadway, but still remained married to Camille Grammer. Man up. We all knew what you were doing.

Acceptable: Jessie Eisenberg becoming more and more famous. He's kind of awkward/nerdy/weird and I kind of like that.

Unacceptable: Kids tripping out on bath salts. Come on. Can't you just stick to your Oxycontin?

Acceptable: John Travolta turning down Glee because if we weren't already questioning you after Hairspray, we would after Glee.

Unacceptable: Hugh Hefner on Twitter. You may as well tell us which fabric softener sheets you like to use in the dryer because there is nothing substantial going on when you tweet. Can't you at least upload twitpics of your girlfriends in footy pajamas? We need the weird Hef!

Unacceptable: An Arkansas supermarket shielding the cover of US Weekly because Elton John and his partner are on the cover with their adopted child. Really? Are you aware that in France they show boobs on network television…all the time? Not Cinemax. Not Showtime. Network TV. Get with it.
school girl



How many times do you see/meet a hot girl but find that she’s followed with a complete deal breaker?

There’s this website called sheshotbut.com where guys can anonymously post reasons a girl isn’t worthy of their time even though she’s hot. Here’s a few of the better ones...

SHE'S HOT, BUT SHE WEARS A SCRUNCHY

SHE'S HOT, BUT ALL HER EXS SEEMS TO RUN AWAY FROM HER AND NEVER COME BACK.

SHE'S HOT, BUT SHE DANCES ON POLES TO PAY FOR COLLEGE
SHE'S HOT, BUT SHE LOOKS HORRIBLE IN AN ORANGE JUMPSUIT.

SHE'S HOT, BUT SHE KIND OF LOOKS LIKE MY MOTHER.

SHE'S HOT, BUT SHE SLEPT WITH HALF THE RUGBY TEAM.

SHE'S HOT, BUT SHE WAS BORN IN THE 90S

SHE'S HOT, BUT THE BITCH IS CRAZYY
SHE'S HOT, BUT SHE BEAT ME AT BLACK OPS

SHE'S HOT, BUT THAT LAUGHS DEFINITELY NOT!

SHE'S HOT, BUT SHE WEARS A BUMPIT

SHE'S HOT, BUT HER SANDWICHES SUCK

SHE'S HOT, BUT SHE LIKES JUSTIN BIEBER

SHE'S HOT, BUT SHE ONLY WEARS LOOSE SWEATSHIRTS AND SWEATPANTS EVERYWHERE

SHE'S HOT, BUT I KNOW SHE IS A HO

SHE'S HOT, BUT SHE’S REALLY INTO NICHOLAS CAGE

SHE'S HOT, BUT SHE KEEPS MAKING ME SEE ROMANTIC COMEDIES

SHE'S HOT, BUT SHE’S A SCIENTOLOGIST

SHE'S HOT, BUT I KNOW HERPES WHEN I SEE IT.
SHE'S HOT, BUT SHE LIKES CLAY AIKEN.

SHE'S HOT, BUT I’M A SPINELESS, SNIVELLING MILKTOAST EXCUSE OF A MAN WHO’LL NEVER GROW THE COJONES NEEDED TO APPROACH HER ON THE ‘C’ TRAIN EVERY MORNING AT 7:08 SO I’LL CONTINUE TO CASUALLY BRUSH UP AGAINST HER WHEN THE DOORS OPEN AND WE JOCKEY FOR ASS-SPACE WHILE I DISCREETLY SMELL HER AND HOLD THAT IMAGE WITH ME ALL DAY ONLY TO EXPERIENCE THE SAME THING 8 HOURS LATER.

Find them on Twitter @sheshotbut and don't worry, they're working on a heshotbut.com
What a broken heart feels like

Have you ever suffered a broken heart? Once a guy told me I broke his heart after two weeks of talking/dating/flirting - whatever you want to call it. Call me heartless, but I know I didn't break his heart.

Either he had never had a broken heart before or he confused it with heartburn.

The term “broken heart” is abused these days and I'm guilty of using this term loosely. I mean, when I was 14 and found out ‘NSYNC called it quits, I was a total, blubbery mess...and "heartbroken." I was ripping posters off my wall, breaking old CDs over my knee - it was not pretty - but was that a broken heart?

When it comes to broken hearts, there are two kinds
: the first kind is the kind that most people have. You know, River or Apple (because no one is named anything normal these days) didn't call you back after the third date but you really, really liked him/her. I understand, trust me, but your heart isn't broken. A sure sign that your heart isn't broken is that you have enough of an appetite to eat a pint of Chunky Monkey ice cream to help "ease" the pain. Need another sign? You're able to quickly move on, quickly hook up with someone new and quickly get over it (results may vary).

Then there’s the other kind of broken heart, the kind that probably makes you insta-cry anywhere, that is of course if you can even muster the energy to get anywhere besides your bed. This is the kind of sadness that can get you when you least expect it: you think you’re fine then suddenly you find yourself balling at an intersection in your car. This is the kind of broken heart that affects not just you, but your whole life. It’s a sickness that only cures over time, not over Chunky Monkey, and even after a lot of time passes, sometimes the thought of that person still brings you to tears...or disgust (again, results may vary).

I think a person really has to be a part of you and your life to break your heart, and it takes time - years - for people to get in that deep. People date a lot and people come and go in your life like River and Apple, but there's no way two or three dates can cause such deep despair. If I’m wrong, please correct me, but broken hearts are serious business, people, and they're hard to come by.

A broken heart can come from other things too like death or loss - I know, I’m getting serious, but I’m trying to teach you a lesson - and these are the kind of real broken hearts that do affect you. So when you let measly relationships that aren't even relationships affect your life, what’s going to happen to you when you really lose someone who matters?

Broken hearts aren't fun; yeah, I know things didn't work out with Apple, but move on, step back from the ledge my friend and don't eat all that ice cream you sorry sap. It’s not worth it to be sad over menial situations.
Never trust a guy who
Photo by Etiam Vita


Has a picture he took of himself shirtless in his bathroom mirror as the background on his iPhone...and you thought Ed Hardy shirts were pretentious.

Tells you he's Metallica's accountant but can't tell you any details on the band like the names of certain members or statistics. If you're going to lie about your job profession, at least Wikipedia it to make yourself sound slightly knowledgeable.

Then proceeds to say "okay, I'm really a banker." A banker where, the Monopoly board on game night?

Roams a bar four times and reintroduces himself four times. As four different people.

Has hot dog links in his pocket. Come on. Didn't your mother teach you anything in life? Those are perishable.

Instead of shaking hands, he grabs--or shakes--your ass.

Asks you if you like to bend over instead of answering your question. Say yes or no, then walk away.

Shuts you up when any cast member of Glee is speaking during the Golden Globes.

Offers you one of his egg rolls on an airplane but doesn't eat the rest. Remember what mom said about not taking drinks from frat guys at parties? Chinese food on airplanes applies as well.




Reasons you're unapproachable

A while ago I wrote a post on Rich Santos’ article about why women are unapproachable to many men. I’m following this up because I need to reiterate this to all you fine young thangs.

Recently, while out with some friends at a bar, I noticed this girl a few seats over who was sitting with a group of guys.

Girl, we'll call her exhibit A, was perfectly poised, appropriately dressed (wasn't spilling out of her clothing), her makeup wasn't overdone, she didn't have a weird tan that looked like it would rub off on walls, and although she was sitting at the bar with one person and the others were all behind her, she had her chair turned completely around and was facing the rest of the group.

My first thought was "who is this girl, Adriana Lima? And why are all these men doting after her?" Then I paid closer attention to her actions and noticed how approachable she was by the way she was sitting, listening, talking and even drinking her beer, that I practically wanted to hit on her!

She was fully engaged in the group; she was laid back, comfortable in her environment, smiling, garrulous, using hand gestures as she spoke, and the way she held herself was alluring (arms weren’t cross, no smug and disgusted looks on her face, not hunched over, etc).
I have no clue what they were talking about but those guys were practically taking notes as if she were telling them how to build an atom bomb. The girl could make a discussion about the weather seem intriguing.

This girl, exhibit A, is the creme de la creme of how to be a lady in public. Granted, she was with guys, but if she was alone or with a few girlfriends and I were a dude, I would totally approach her, even if it was just to ask the time. Her vibrancy even attracted me from across a bar.

It’s so easy to forget you’re in public; sometimes I’m sure people think I’m a member of some extremist group when I’m out wearing a beanie, hood, sunglasses and headphones--this goes against everything I stand for. When I look like this and am so engulfed in my daily agenda, where I’m going and what I’m working on, I’m not even aware I'm scaring off potentials or causing people to fear their lives because I may be hiding something.

It’s also easy to forget to smile, make eye contact and be engaged in your surroundings (aka get off your damn Facebook when you’re out with your friends jerks! Stay home if you just want to creep on people).
So this is just a simple reminder to be fully engaged wherever you are. Think like exhibit A and you might see an exhibit B.
A love letter to Kanye West

Dear Kanye West,

I've been listening to you lot lately, and by a lot, I mean yesterday. I never thought I’d be writing this about you because I admit that I became jaded by comments from the greater good of the world about your talent and character which indubitably stripped any positive traits from your talent and character, but beside that, your song Runaway had me at first listen.

I may be at my whitest while singing, er uh, rapping, this song, but I can’t stop. Of course, the music video I directed in my head involves every—as you put it—douchebag and asshole I've dealt with together in a choir singing to me while toasting themselves for being such jerk-offs and scumbags. A couple of them, I won’t say who, are wearing tutus as well.

It’s like you’ve had some euphoric, hip hop resurrection and the gods of Def Jam have spoken to you with guiding light. You lost yourself for a hot second there; you were a self-absorbed, jerky, masochistic moron who loved to hear himself talk and cause a scene, but you’ve been revived.

This song makes up for everything. I don't care what you’ve done and what you’re going to do ten minutes from now; you can do whatever you want. You can interrupt the speech for whoever wins best actress at The Academy Awards in February and talk about why Beyonce should have won--even if she isn’t nominated--and then you can show up to Prince Williams's wedding drunk off your ass with a bottle of Hennessy in your hand only before objecting that it is you who should marry Kate Middleton. As long as you apologize by singing a song about how you're a douchebag while ballerinas dance around you, it will be totally and artistically acceptable.

I have never known another self-proclaimed savior of hip hop who can make such a mockery of himself in such a beautiful way and make me, dare I say it, appreciate him for it.

I try so hard to despise you but it doesn't work. You're, as you put it, a motherfuckin’ monster and you know it. Therefore, I give up on the war on hate against Kanye West. I don’t have to love you, but I'll put up with you.

Yours truly,
Jessica
A public service announcement: some guys aren't all that


Once upon a time I got a little too buzzed and a short conversation with a complete stranger that I had little interest in, escalated into an accidental hook-up (it wasn’t on my agenda, that’s for sure) that took me completely off guard (because he came at me with full force) and was terminally boring and unsatisfying (he just didn't do it for me).

After my buzz wore off not too long after, I realized I wasn’t even enjoying it. The whole time I had been thinking about what I should write my thesis statement on and what I wanted to wear to my friend’s dinner the following night; there wasn’t even enough attraction to make me want to stick it out and come on, you have to be cautious about STD's (if you’re not being cautious about them, you probably have one). Who the hell knows where he had been before that, let alone that day. It wasn’t worth it, so I stopped.

Here’s the point of the story:

You're probably a piece of shit that deserves to be shot in the dick if you:

Think a girl is a prude because she doesn't want to fuck you or let you stick your grimy, disgusting, no-good hands down her pants. You don’t deserve a penis. If someone doesn't want you, deal with it.

Think you are some kind of ladies man. Those are girls you're "with" are just with you because they consumed your entire bottle of top of the line Popov, fell for your one liners and were dumb enough to be lured into a dark room to “look for your keys.”

[Side note: Those "women" you sleep with all have something in common: Chlamydia. I'm just letting you know. They also hook up with your best friends, ex-best friends, co-workers, team mates, and each other after they drink too many Smirnoff Ice's.]

So here's to all you women who are sane enough to make responsible decisions before you end up in a pool of regret while picking up prescriptions to rid yourself of something one of the girls he hooked up with three nights prior has. Good for you. You know your worth and what you deserve. It's okay to let yourself go every now and then; we all have spring breaks, winter breaks and the first Tuesday of each month, but if you aren't even attracted to the sorry sap in any way, shape or form--let alone having fun--it's okay to up and leave. You're never going to see him again, hopefully.

You never know where your night might take you—you might meet someone great or someone who is a total jerk—you don't have to be into it for the sake of being into it.

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