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96. The Ex-Boyfriend Life Cycle

13 Sep

Popular culture tells us that you’re allowed half the duration of the actual length of your relationship to get over it, but what they don’t take into consideration is the entire ex-boyfriend life cycle.

This cycle is for people who haven’t found a new boyfriend or are unhappy with the guy they’re hooking up with. If you’re fortunate enough to have fallen in either of these categories and were probably over it for a large part of your ex-relationship, skip to the last phase of the cycle. For the rest of you drama-seeking betches, here’s what to expect when you’re expecting too much.

We Still Fuck Sometimes But He’s Not My Boyfriend Phase:Why would you revert to an earlier stage of your relationship where you still have to play games? You broke up for a reason. It’s called a breakup because it’s fucking broken.

Break-ups are hard.

You’re a betch, be single. Why manipulate one guy when you can manipulate three? Fucking duh.

This stage consists of still hooking up while being anxiously on edge about what he’s doing and with whom. It’s just a mess. This never ends well. Best to exit as soon as possible.

Usually, unless you get back together, something happens to get you very angry at your ex, there’s a massive blowout fight, possibly involving a #92 love triangle, and you enter the next phase.

The Over It Not Over It Phase: You claim to be #82 over it, but all you fucking talk about is him and how much he sucks and the whores he’s fucking. For someone who’s supposed to hate someone, you’re checking for updates as frequently as one checks their Facebook or Twitter. Literally, by checking Facebook and Twitter.

OMG did Jon put me on limited profile?! Jenna, you MUST go on Facebook so we can go through and compare EXACTLY which tagged pics of Jon we both see?

You are so not over it that you are under the impression that this is something Jenna wants to do.

Even though you claim to be over it, all of your friends know that you have carefully calculated each and every move you make in order to make your ex jealous, angry, or upset. If you manage to accomplish all three, congrats, this is the ultimate in #32 winning and greatest feeling of happiness as the #16 post break-up betch.

However, you’re only allowed to be in the continuous bitching stage for a third of the duration of the your relationship. To the besties of the girls in this phase: it fucking sucks if she’s trying to get over a 3 year relationship, consider branching out.

Phase of Silence: Eventually it becomes socially unacceptable to still be talking about your ex, so even if you’re not fully out of the last phase you better fucking pretend like you are. It’s like counting the dead after a battle. Silent.

The Actual Over It Phase: This is the rainbow after the hurricane. You actually don’t wish this person ill will. You don’t care. As we’ve said before the person who cares the least has the most power and is by default winning, but you’re out of the game now.

It's always a surprise when someone breaks up with Jen

At one point you might even give a smile and wave when you see him somewhere, possibly even a #88 stop and chat. This is the greatest symbol of the Actual Over It Phase.

Side Note: Claiming that your ex-boyfriend has now morphed into your guy friend is not allowed in this phase or like, ever. Like we’ve said before, #50 guy friends are bullshit. Unless you got fat.

91. Tennis

29 Aug

Naturally tennis is the betchiest sport out there.

Side Note: Before anyone gets on our case about horseback riding, golf or squash being betchier, just shut the fuck up now. We don’t agree. And yes, we have done all of the above. Don’t even try it.

Aside from the fact that tennis is an individual sport, meaning it’s all about number 1, it’s also one of the more elitist sports, thereby excluding poor people which we like.

Ready for the Round of 16!

Fine, the Williams sisters. They could maybe be as betchy as the Olsens if Serena didn’t have the man look going on.

Betches learned to play tennis at “the club,” it’s a popular family sport and you bet your ass a betch played tennis in middle and high school. Lots of betches even went to tennis camp, and while we were those people and liked it, in hindsight it seems pointless considering we haven’t played that much since like, last summer… Maybe the one before? Who knows, those stupid skirts make shitty tan lines.

Tennis introduced us to #63 pros at a young age, our first pro crushes were the hot college guys our parents paid $150 an hour to “rally” with us. Great investment, mom.

Also, it’s the only sport that your standard betch would play on a seriously competitive level, if you play another you might consider a tattoo declaring “I go the other way” across your chest. If you’re a female athlete trying to be on the cover of Sports Illustrated, you better fucking play tennis.

Since tennis is a sport for tall and #5 skinny betches, the betchiest players are the ones who get paid millions to wear slutty designer tennis apparel. Anna Kournikova and Maria Sharapova are what you get when someone who’s almost pretty enough to be a model discovers they sufficient athletic ability to land promotional contracts.

But even if you’re not on the tournament circuit per se, any betch who’s played competitively knows that the reason tennis is betchy is because it’s a mind game. It makes you individually competitive with other girls, not only within every point and game but over time the subject of “who’s better” is one that does not tire quickly.

Oh, and a true betch plays singles. It’s all about #1, none of this doubles bullshit. You don’t need some dumb bitch stealing your killer forehands with her stupid inconsistent volleys. We’ll go mixed doubles though.

Nothing distracts her from the game

But really, even if you’re not familiar with the game it should be obvious. What’s not betchy about a sport that encourages #42 dressing like a slut in tight outfits, lets you serve people without a law degree, and even if you never win a point your score is “love.” Talk about delusional dating.

Finally, tri-state area betches know the excitement of the US Open at the end of the summer which is like, the only sporting event we would consider watching female athletes participate in. The opening rounds are coming up, nothing’s betchier than forgoing work and instead “spending a few days at the Open” with a pro. We’re talking about your boyfriend, not a tennis coach.

How To: Facebook Like A Betch

18 Aug

It wouldn’t be an understatement to claim that Facebook is both the greatest and worst invention to ever hit planet Earth. If you could clock the hours spent on this miserable website you probably could’ve successfully figured out a cure for cancer, and you barely passed high school biology.

Facebook is a double-edged sword but we really can’t deny the potential for mass manipulation that comes with an account.  From the pictures with your besties to your fav movies and music, ever since you made your profile, it has become the be-all end-all in how you want the world to see you.

So the question is, what is the betchiest way to use Facebook? Let’s break it down.

Stalking: It used to be that being forced look at someone’s developed pictures from their vacation with their boyfriend was among the most boring activities in the world. Then came Picture Trail and the birth of digital photography. And now Facebook. Cut to last Monday at work and for some reason you literally have nothing better to do than look through your third cousin Julie’s vaca pics from her Bahamas album. Half way through you catch yourself and think ‘why the fuck do I care about this?’

Facebook stalking is dangerous. Choosing the right time and place is crucial. Every betch knows not to do this during class where there’s always the potential that the guy behind you could know your boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend and would find it strange that you’re carefully stalking each of your mutual friends. Oh, and whoops there he sees his own profile on your computer…’kward.

Also, there are few more awkward moments than when someone you’re barely friends with drunkenly reveals some personal information they know about you from clearly stalking your Facebook. I mean as betches, the rest of the world is obviously extremely curious of our whereabouts and outfits at all times, but it’s super creepy when you tell me you loved the dress I wore to my uncle’s wedding in Minnesota back in June.

However, it is extremely fun to discover that girl you once thought was normal until you saw her Facebook and find out she’s friends with seriously fat people and has daily inspirational quotes for statuses. “No matter how serious life gets, you gotta have that one person you can be completely stupid with.” Etc.

Back-stalking: The only thing better than regular stalking. It’s looking at someone’s pics backwards to see how fat they’ve gotten since high school. Or even more fun, back-stalking yourself. There’s obviously no better reason to be up until 3 in the morning than being adderalled out and backstalking to June 2007’s Spring Break pics.

Statuses: Ugh, what to say about the fucking stupid ass shit that pervades your news feed; the nice girl word vomit that invades your life in the form of Facebook statuses. The occasional location change is okay, like if you’ll be in Vegas or the Hamptons for the weekend, or the two times a year you’re permitted to post a link or comment that’s like, legit funny. Oh and if you do it more than this you can’t sit with us. Not just you, like, any of us.

How Good is Your Facebook Game?: Facebook has made it a million times harder to get over an ex because you now have to be constantly reminded of what he’s doing and with whom. But you can also do the same. Should you call someone out for something they’ve done on Facebook? It shows that you’ve seen it, which you know they know you have. But do you really want them to know?

Example of someone with no FB game: Eduardo Saverin’s psycho Asian GF.

“Likes”: That tiny thumbs up sign says so much yet so little. But call it what it is, this is a betch’s subtle form of attention-seeking, like making a positive statement and affirmation of friendship without having to put in the effort of forming a full thought to make a comment.

Would you ever like something someone did on Facebook if you didn’t like the person associated with it? Exactly. It’s your way of saying, see everyone, I have friends who care about my opinion and we have inside jokes and I’m on the inside, and even though this comment was neither written by me nor addressed to me, I totes get it.

But remember, be sparing with your likes and never like something you have written, unless it’s a total joke. There are few people who can get away with this without looking like a total loser.

Wall Posts: Wall posts say “we are real friends who keep in contact often and have things to talk about and here is one of our inside jokes you won’t understand. I could have just as easily texted you this comment, but I need the world to know how close we are.”

Also, is it really your birthday if it’s not up on Facebook? Think about it.

Pokes: Just…no. Poking is for fifth grade boys who tease girls they like for having cooties, and the nerdy kids who never leave their dorm except to go to class. Different demographics, similar sexual experience.

Photo Sharing: See #6 muploads and #22 group photog.

It’s undeniably irritating when your friend’s albums are set to only her friends. What the fuck is the point of looking like I’m having fun in these pictures if John can’t even see them. It is okay to ask her to change her settings only if she is your bestie.

There’s also the extreme anxiety that comes from 1) picking profile pics and 2) the decision to tag or untag.

Things to consider when making this decision: a) how hot/skinny do I look? b) Who am I pictured with? Find an honest and trustworthy friend with whom you can exchange “picture assessments.”

Also, the minimum number of pictures you need to have tagged to ensure you’re not a social leper? Let’s say 200 for guys and like, 700 for girls.

It’s enough stress to make you want to pop a #10 Xanax.

Image and Privacy Settings: There’s always a tension between maintaining exclusivity and showing how cool you are, while making it hard for employers and your grandpa to stalk you. Try to stay on the side of privacy.

The coolest people don’t or “appear to not” use Facebook very often. It gives them a mystery and the “I don’t give a fuck” attitude that betches strive for.

Hiding your pics or your wall is chill, but hide both? You’re up to something #55 shady.

You also shouldn’t “like” too many pages or join too many groups. Generally avoid the use of Facebook apps and if you do use them, don’t tell anyone. There is nothing worse than the receptionist at your Dad’s office friending you and then constantly sending you notifications of how many cows she’s just unlocked on Farmville.


Relationship Statuses: To maintain the classy, gradual Facebook split is one of the hardest parts of breaking up. First you change your profile picture, then you discretely hide your relationship status. It’s only a matter of time before people are asking each other if you broke up. Remember to not be too antagonistic on Facebook, like obviously deleting shit. That’s fucked up.

Chat/messages: The fact that these two are merging as a result of the #68 iPhone switch is totally changing the #32 game forever. No longer do you need someone’s pin. You merely need to have met them in a bar once three years ago or sat behind them in French in sixth grade to have an opportunity for them to flirt with you. Although, chat kinda sucks because by nature of how open it is, a lot of annoying people will inevitably chat you because you’re popular so they would. 2000 of my closest friends are available to chat? Sry ct.

It’s undeniable that Facebook has changed everything. For instance, it will inevitably ruin high school reunions. Now, when I see you, balding with your two kids and wife who used to be skinny, it will be no surprise as I have already witnessed your relationship blossom from the first profile picture of the two of you together, all the way to your engagement party at The W. I even know about the cool diaper genie you got at your baby shower, despite the fact that I haven’t seen or talked to you since high school.

Remember, who you are on Facebook is who you are in life.

The Head Betches like this.

84. Hating Long Distance Relationships

10 Aug

There are many instances in a betch’s life in which the dreaded long distance relationship decision comes about. Maybe you’re headed to college and this was your high school boyfriend. Maybe it’s the boyfriend you obtained while #3 abroad or maybe it’s your BF from college and he just got a job making bank at a bank across the fucking country.

Whichever way you managed to get yourself into one of these relationships, brace yourself to be fucking irritated ninety percent of the time. You see, the main problem with LDRs is that in order for them to work, they take a lot of fucking work. Not to sound repetitive but betches hate doing work, especially in an effort to have sex, something that presents itself to us as easily as jokes about fat people.

Your friends will also be excited for your boyfriend to visit

Honesty though, what’s the point of a relationship without being able to have sex upon demand? It’s like not being able to drive the cute little white Porsche convertible that your dad got you because you have a DUI.

Some betches may say that the anticipation of seeing your boyfriend every other weekend makes the sex all that much better. We say, bullshit. Yeah that excitement is great but it’s fucking short-circuited and the last thing you want is your boyfriend anticipating fucking the girl who sits next to him in his accounting class.

Then comes the problem of when you’ve become so deprived of sex that you find yourself wanting every guy you see, like an animal in heat, just because you cant have them. Betches get what they want; restraining yourself from wanting something is for nice virgins and dieting fat people. But paradoxically, betches don’t cheat so it’s hard to find a way to maneuver this sexual roadblock. So now all you’re left with is the fantasy of hooking up with the guy in YOUR accounting class. There’s something about the way he speaks about cash flow statements that makes me want to give him head.

What’s even worse about LDRs is having to speak on the phone all the time. You can’t possibly sustain a relationship through text messages so you both make it a point to call each other once a day. How was your day? Good. How was school today? Good. That shit gets boring fast and next thing you know you can’t stand the sound of his voice and the conversation is as scintillating as one with your grandma.

However when you do see each other, the only real options of things to do together are have sex and go out do dinner. And then you wonder why your ass is fifty fucking percent larger.

Then there’s jealousy. Sure betches are confident people and should never display weakness, but there’s something about LDRs that turn us into fucking psychos. No matter how “stable” you claim your relationship may be, it is inevitable that you will schedule daily facebook stalking sessions of your boyfriend’s friends’ pictures looking for him in the background, no matter how busy you are. You know you’ve hit an all-time low when some variation of the following goes through your head; OMG is that Eric leaning on the refrigerator there? I totally recognize the back of his head. Who the FUCK is that whore he’s talking to. It can only go downhill from here.

Next thing you know you’re left dating the bro’s facebook and suddenly regret being too cool to post your relationship status. Like we said, these thoughts are crazy.

Even worse are LDRs with a time difference. You clearly win if you’re the one in an earlier time zone but even so, these relationships are shorter lived than ones working in the same hour. Think about TV and movies. Turtle and Jamie-Lynn Sigler, Mena Suvari and Chris ‘Oz’, Justin Long and Drew Bar. Movies are supposed to glorify everything and those relationships barely fucking worked. How do you suppose ones in real life will turn out?

The benefits of long distance relationships are small, but they surface in scenarios such as winning over your #50 guy friends. This is kind of amazing in the sense that you have a free pass to flirt with your guy friends just as you would with your #52 GBFF and they can’t do anything about it. Now you’re that tease elusive girl that none of them can have but all of them want.

Enter the open relationship. Nothing screams security more than being almost positively sure that the guy you’re in love with is taking some fugly freshman on dates or to formals. “But we have a rule! No below the belt!” is like telling a guy he’s allowed to watch a basketball game but not the final quarter. Good fucking luck.

So betches, entering or sustaining a long distance relationship is highly discouraged unless the long distance part is temporary and you think there’s a significant chance that you’ll marry this soon to be pro. There are few things more depressing to a betch than spending three years of college in a dramatic LDR with a guy only to discover during senior week that you’re ‘over it‘, no matter how good the phone sex was or how pretty he said you look via skype.

83. Sisters

9 Aug

Okay so while we’ve all seen The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants which taught us that with a little magic, it’s possible for fat girls to share jeans with Alexis Bledel, real betches know that sisters are the besties who have zero chance of winding up on your WYDEL.

Betches love sisters because, like our #52 Gay BFFs, sisters can and will be totally honest with you. As someone in your direct bloodline, they actually give a shit about what others have to say about you. It’s a genetic fact that your sister shares more DNA with you than any other human being in the world including your mother and children. Unless of course you have another sister, in which case it’s a tie. So the question is, am I going to let someone go out representing my genes in fucking hideous jeans? NO fucking way. And that’s the beauty of sisters.

Another use for sisters - finding the loophole in child labor laws

Sure, as friends who live in such close proximity and who have a bigger cap for honesty, you’re going to fight. A lot. You know you have a little sister and not just a friend when you see her stroll down the stairs in one of your brand new sweaters and you don’t hesitate to scream, “Take off my fucking sweater bitch! Did I give you permission to wear that? It doesn’t even fit your fucking mosquito bite sized boobs!

As your sister, she will now have to go back and change after replying, “you’ll see how much you’ll be bitching when you’re an unmarried bridesmaid at my wedding, you old ass whore.” If this were your friend you’d have to bite your tongue or like, tell her nicely to take it off. Ew.

However, no matter how much you and your sister fight, it’s universal sister code that if someone talks shit about your sister, you do not hesitate to punch them in the fucking face or hook up with their boyfriend. “I can talk shit about my sister but YOU can’t you fucking loser outsider! Come back when you inherit our family’s ridiculously perfect looks and brains, stupid bitch.”

While we realize that you don’t have to have a sister to be a betch, it definitely helps. Some sisters are notoriously attached at the hip and do fucking everything together. In this case you want to look alike, because she’s the bestie you’ll be taking with you for your entire life so you want to make sure she’s pretty. However you definitely want to be at least slightly more attractive so when people inevitably compare you, you’re known as “the prettier sister.”

If you have a younger sister, you can teach her the ways of betchdom and hope she follows in your footsteps.

If you have an older sister, it’s definitely part of the reason you are the betch you are today, hopefully getting guidance in fields like fashion, not fucking bros, and how to manipulate your parents into giving you everything you want.

Pippa: I may be holding your train but at least I still get to go clubbing

It’s also a known fact that parents will pay for and let sisters do anything together in the name of “bonding.” “Mom can we go to Ibiza for the weekend pleaseeee?! We just REALLY need to talk about Lauren’s latest break-up, and what nursing home we’re going to put you in when you stop making money!”

If you’re the youngest of more than two sisters, be prepared to be the sibling bitch and have to do things like running to get the car keys, getting last shower on family vacas, and having anything nice you get ‘borrowed from you.’ Don’t feel bad though, this means you lucky enough to have older amazing betches to look up to and copy.

So betches, be thankful and nice to your sister. Unless she’s being annoying or selfish, in which case take advantage of it and project your anger onto her. Sisters are for life. From the Obamas to the Olsens to the Hiltons, there’s no one more worthy of a loan or your attention than the betch who saw your boyfriend sneak into your room when your parents were sleeping and didn’t say anything.

82. Being “Over It”

8 Aug

Every betch has been “over it” at some point in her life. “Over it” is one of those expressions we use a lot but takes on a whole array of meanings depending on the situation and our mood. Like we’ve said, betches are complex. Similar to #21 abbrevs, the expression “over it” is a cornerstone of our vernacular.

When a betch claims to be “over it,” she wants to project the image of being too good for something, therefore doesn’t care about it. “Over it” is the basic linguistic form of trying to #32 win.

Careful betches, just because you say you’re over it doesn’t mean anyone actually fucking believes you. In fact, stating you’re “over it” is probably the easiest way to tell the whole world you’re absolutely NOT over it. Even Shakespeare knew a betch who doth protested way too fucking much.

Take the following scenarios.

Fight with a #69 bestie: You and your bestie are going at each other via text for like, 10 whole minutes. It started small and irrelevant but by now you’re actually fucking pissed, in a bad mood, and have convinced yourself that she’s wrong even though you barely remember why you’re arguing. You’re definitely mad but don’t want to read her stupid fucking text messages anymore.

You throw her the “Whatever, I”m over it”

This is code for “shut the fuck up, I’m gonna go #1 talk shit about you to everyone I know cause I’m def not over it.”

Fight with a #53 SAB: Some asshole isn’t answering your texts.

If I say I'm over it will you get the fuck off me?

“You’re not gonna come over? Fine. I’m over it. Over it dot com.”

Wow. You couldn’t be more under it. Then you’ll pretend you’re over it until he finally fucking texts you.

Being “over” trends, venues, scenes, people, activities, nouns and verbs in general: This can apply to pretty much everything else in the world. For instance…

“Ugh, I’m so over Tenjune. Never going again.”

“I’m like, over chicken. Only salmon from now on.”

Since betches are always bored, it’s possible to genuinely be over these things. We actually hope you’re over certain things, like Blackberries, Entourage, and the #2 news. Even so, your underlying meaning when you say this to someone is, “ew, that’s so like, 4 years ago, but it’s cute that you still think it’s cool!”

So betches, keep in mind that if you have to say it, it ain’t so. However, we’re far from suggesting that you eliminate this term from your speech. It’s one of our favorite passive-aggressive phrases. At the end of the day we’re about as over ‘over it’ as Khloe Kardashian is over being the fat sister.

80. Bitching

3 Aug

It’s probably obvious that betches will happily bitch about anything and everything they can. This is what the #43 haters hate us for, but we’re saying you should embrace it. Even if everything is kind of okay, it’s um, “NOTOKAY.” No one can turn a small irritation into the imminent apocalypse as efficiently as a betch.

Ugh…. there’s nothingggg on tv… I’m inconsolable…

Where’s the dealer? How can he possiblyyyy not answer I REFUSE TO WATCH THIS MOVIE WITHOUT WEED.

Like we do with many aspects of the Betch Life, like #42 dressing like a slut and pretending to know about #31 wine, betches have turned the act of complaining into a field of study. Since a lot of you like to email us asking the retarded question of what the “betchiest major” is, we’ll say that nothing in academia is fucking betchy. Give up now.

Betches do... then go on permanent maternity leave

But for betches who are trying to learn a major life skill, you should unofficially major in Effective Bitching, with a concentration in one of these areas:

Best-Least-Most-Worst Competition: Betches tend to see things in extremes. It’s the best day ever! Or the world is ending, depends if your pedicurist had time for the full or half massage today. Betches express these thoughts in the only way they know how. Pure exaggeration and the competition for who’s the BLMW.

“No one wants YOU to roll our blunt! I roll the BESTTTTT blunts, even my ex-boyfriend told me so.”

“I need the LEAST amount of shots to get drunk. Cuz I’m the #5 skinniest.”

“I have the MOST homework out of everyone and it’s the MOST HARDEST homework ever. Since I’m not gonna do it, I’m avoiding MORE work than you’re avoiding.”

“I have the WORST hangover known to mankind right now. Someone fetch my iced coffee, there’s no way YOU can possibly feel WORSE than ME.”

Bitching at service people: This is every betch’s favorite kind because when you bitch at a service person, they can’t bitch back! We’ve never worked but we heard the first thing they teach you is that the customer is always right. They have no choice but to give in or else they could lose their sub-minimum wage job and possibly get shipped back across the Rio Grande, who knows. Why risk citizenship to the best country in the world in the name of talking back to a betch?

So betches will take full advantage of this, doing things like asking their gardeners to wait for a more mainstream hour than 11am to mow the lawn outside their bedroom; or threatening to sue their cable service for psychological damages if they don’t fix the DVR in time for Kourtney and Kim.

Commit these words to memory: “I’d like to speak with your supervisor.”

Hypochondria: We don’t know who invented hypochrondria, but we’re sure it was a betch. The slightest ache or ailment could be a serious dysfunction, so I better check webMD before my pinky finger explodes from the throbbing pain of its millisecond brush with my hair iron. Do you think Allie would understand if I skipped her birthday pregame due to third degree burns? I don’t wanna be in pics with her off-the-shelf Maybelline highlights.

"My plastic surgeon doesn't want me doing anything where balls fly at my nose"

The best part about hypochondria? You really believe your excuses therefore exempting you from potential call-outs. A hypochondriac never backs down from their so-called pains. Really bitch? You’re gonna tell ME that MY appendix doesn’t need to come out?

We realize that there are certain people in life who one might consider chill enough to be satisfied and grateful for what they have. These are usually people who had to do gross things while growing up, like share shit with their siblings or like, read a book once about a boy who had to mow his own lawn. Yeah, that.

These people are hesitant to complain. But guess what that means? They’re also never gonna get the shit that they want. So be proud to be a bitching betch and remember that when it comes down to it, the silent nice girl will be the one staring at you pathetically as you snag the window seat on the plane. Decide you’re low maintenance and the next thing you know you’re paying for a chipped manicure and convincing yourself that a bracelet from Kay Jewelers is an adequate anniversary gift.

79. Sexting

2 Aug

So it’s Sunday afternoon and you’ve just woken up, hungover as fuck and only moderately pleased to find that no one is sleeping next to you. After popping some advil, the next step is clear: look through your phone to see what kind of night you had.

After you get through the extensive and quite boring rounds of “where r u!?” “by bar nxt 2 hot guy w big adams apl where r u” you move on to the more interesting shit. That’s when you see it, your Sunday morning regret of the week. Fuck. You’ve gotten drunk and sexted.

Sexting has become something of a controversial issue, with anti-sexting shit like MTV’s A Thin Line Campaign, which urges teens when they’re sober to reconsider sending naked pictures of themselves and saying sexual stuff to each other. Yeah fucking right. Where’s MTV when it’s 2am on a Friday night and I don’t remember my middle name.

In October, Apple patented a device for parents who want to block their kids from sending sexually explicit words via their Apple products. Now this is totally fucking ridiculous. Like, how is this preventing anyone from doing stupid shit? “Help! I want to fuck you but my iPad won’t let me say nipple!”

Although sexting seems like a great idea in theory – what better way to accomplish your conflicting desires to be #53 shady and still #8 not fuck bros than by putting out with only your words – sexting is a very slippery slope.

As we reiterated with the Weinergate scandal, what you send out in cyberspace can will follow you for the rest of your fucking life and you can bet any bro you send sexually explicit shit to is sharing those messages with all his friends. If he wasn’t a SAB, you probably wouldn’t be sexting him in the first place.

Then again, there’s a fine line between telling someone you’re DTF and sending them a picture of your entire body. We may promote #42 dressing like a slut, but we definitely promote covering your boobs and vagina in pictures.

However, the amusement that sexting provides when you are not the sexter is the ultimate form of entertainment. There’s no situation that could match the hilarity resulting from showing your bestie the weekly sext you got from your creepy home friend only to find out he texted her the same thing. Victim of the mass sext. Honestly betches, don’t ever pretend like you’re so repelled by sexually disturbing texts from your guy friends, you know you’re wholly entertained. We told you there’s no such thing as guy friends.

The best thing to do when a bro you’re hooking up with initiates sexting is react the way a SAB would when you recommend he take you on a date. “I want to fuck you” should be replied to with “If you say so.” If you’re too fucked up to use this tactic you can take advantage of being drunk out of your mind and allow yourself to misspell everything, as if you’re absolving yourself of having made a conscious choice to send these messages. You’re not.

Good thing her Mac is designed to explode at the sight of her boobs

You may think that having a boyfriend gives you a free pass on the sex via text thing but you never know what kind of dramatic blowout breakup you’re going to have with this guy. So unless you have an equally embarrassing anecdote or picture of his unfortunately small dick, we’d steer clear of this option as well.

So betches, don’t drink and sext. Kim Kardashian may have used sex to get famous but she’s a member of the Lucky Sperm Club, so the same rules don’t apply. Plus, everyone still kind of thinks she’s a whore.

Remember that cyberspace makes the world a lot smaller and there’s nothing that says losing more than your evil ex sending a topless picture of you to your grandma in London. So save your dirty talk for the bedroom, your future kids don’t need to be tormented by a naked picture of you they found on the Internet, no matter how hot you used to be.

77. Shopping

27 Jul

As you’re probably reading this while navigating the shoe section of Bloomingdales, it should be obvious that the holy grail of all betchy activities is shopping.

Let’s be serious, shopping goes deep. It’s not just something we do, like going to our jobs tanning at our pools. It defines us. Going shopping is like, a tri-weekly soul-searching experience. It’s the only thing that brings us closer to Zen. Besides Xanax.

Whether you’re more of a Saks or Neiman girl, a boutique hunter, or a slave to the trends of Intermix, LF and Top Shop, you’re probably better equipped to maneuver your way to their fitting rooms while blindfolded than you are to find the bathroom of your own fucking house in the middle of the night.

We’re here to justify your shopping addiction. An alcoholic’s sponsor would tell him that he doesn’t need alcohol. Fuck that. You require shopping.

My closet is already worth hundreds of thousands of dollars? Whatever. I’m feeling a little empty right now.

Not only is shopping therapeutic, but the things we buy are essential in shaping the image we project to other betches. Every betch knows that one of the greatest challenges in wardrobe selection is finding the balance between dressing for the season like everyone else you know, and showing off her “individuality.”

Speaking of wardrobe selection, building the perfect collection each season is necessary and fun. Every betch has her staples: multiple bandage skirts, flowy silk tops in every color, a variety of jeans in all cuts and shades, stilettos for any occasion, and the obvious high-end items – the Hermes belt, the classic Chanel, the daytime Balenciaga, and so on.

Still, even though there are a few tops in your closet that you bought three weeks ago and haven’t worn, you like, really need to get another one for tonight.

Shopping is a ritual. It’s a way of life.

It’s not just about the clothes or having the best new shoes and handbags, it’s the lure of anything and everything that’s for sale. Betches get excited when they walk into the beauty section of fucking CVS. Ugh I really need that new Paul Mitchell Conditioning Gel Straightening Volumizing Finishing spray… maybe another Moroccan oil…

And finally we have online shopping. Ugh, where do we begin. It’s shopping without doing work. You already had your morning workout so why waste your Adderall on poring through clothes racks when you can sit on your computer and do the same thing? If you’ve found yourself waiting for the package from Nasty Gal, which you charged to your shady “emergency credit card” because you were nervous – not that your parents would see how much you spent – but because your mom would think that your dad’s ordering porn, you are not alone.

Plus, online shopping is great for the discounts, and since sales aren’t betchy, no one has to know you actually utilized a sale. Gross. Really though, are you a Gilt Groupe stalker? You should be. Like how can you possibly pass on getting 10% off that gorg Chloe clutch when you only have to spend a minimum of $250 on clothes? What a steal.

So what if you get a speech from your parents bimonthly about how you aren’t fooling anyone by splitting your purchases on three of daddy’s credit cards and that your lavish habits are irresponsible and undeserved, or some shit like that.

“You need to know the value of the dollar!”

No Dad, you need to know the value of my white collarless shirt from Fred Segal.

Besides, betches know everything, especially that the value of a dollar might as well be zero. That’s exactly why we don’t waste our time trying to make any. You know what betches know the value of? A husband.

So remember, you are what you wear and how you dress. Next time your dad flips a shit about the credit card bill, just stay calm and remind him of that thing you learned once in Personal Finance Management 101. You need to spend money to make money. And no man will marry you in last season’s Loubs.

76. Hating Guys Who Give You Their Number

26 Jul

So you’re at this bar and you met this guy you’ve been talking to for like, 25 whole minutes. He buys you a few drinks and suddenly your friends are ready to leave. You tell him it was nice to meet him and thanks for the vodka sodas. But before he lets you slip away, he drops the bomb.

“You should take my number, we should meet up sometime.”

Red. Fucking. Flag.

If a guy offers you his number without taking yours, the only thing you should even consider doing with that would be a fun prank call with your besties. This is how you show him how much betches love to make the first move.

Who does he think you are? A fucking nice girl who would actively pursue a guy? If I’m gonna wait two hours just to open your text message, what makes you think that I would ever spend the time unlocking my iPhone to call you?

We’re all about the feminist movement, but fucking please. What? Is he expecting you to text him and ask him out? Unless Prince Harry is giving you his number you’re not falling for that shit.

The bro’s end goal is obviously to have sex with you. Why would you be the one to do the work involved in expediting this process? When you call him first you’re a hop, skip, and a jump away from paying for his dinner and doing his fucking laundry. Not betchy.

A guy’s job is to impress you, but giving you his number and not taking yours is him giving you an opportunity to impress him. VOM. This is big for #70 delusional daters, who might take this as a sign that he’s in love with her. Sorry, if a guy is interested in you he will make sure he has your number.

Truth: Wake the fuck up. He gave you his number so that he could choose to ignore you if he wants.

Same goes for business cards. That’s code for “I’m a douchebag with a job.” The only seven digits you’re interested in taking from this conversation is an estimate of his income.

If you respond to this move, that means you’re texting him first. This means you start off losing, which is a pretty bad sign for the rest of the game. This isn’t the Special fucking Olympics, there’s no reason to start any game when you’re at a disadvantage.

It’s easy for any cheeseball loser to go around handing out his number like it’s a fucking Obama sticker in Times Square, but this just means that this asshole is afraid of rejection. A guy who gives you his number and doesn’t take yours means he lacks confidence, therefore he’s not a SAB and you also wouldn’t want to date him, so basically he’s good for nothing.

The only time a guy's name should be on a napkin is his bar mitzvah

Anyone who a betch would date would definitely not have a fear of rejection.

Disclaimer: This is not a go-ahead to become a phone number slut to pre-empt this problem. Your number should only be given if you’re into the guy and he’s earned it through impressive #47 pick-up lines or getting you fucked up enough that the only thing you can remember is your number.

If a guy only gives you his number he’s not that fucking into you. A betch is the ultimate prize and her attention is not something that comes easily. Would you hand a mink a knife and tell it you’ll be back for your fur coat tomorrow?

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