The Bachelorette Recap

Just when you thought I couldn’t get any shallower, The Bachelorette is back. I live for all things Bachelor Nation and I will admit I am particularly excited for this season with Kaitlyn because I think she is kinda slutty which I mean as a total compliment. Get it girl.

Last night, things kicked off with the first group date and a disssapointing in depth look at my favorite aspect of the show: the bogus job titles. I love how ABC thinks they are progressive by choosing a Bachelorette with a tattoo who occasionally says fuck. If that was a prerequisite, I could have been the Bachelorette in 4th grade… I was pretty promiscuous back then.

The guys seem super pumped about moving into the “mansion” as they call dibs on their fucking bunk beds. This is concerning because if you are that excited about sleeping in a room with 4 other assholes, you obviously still live with your parents OR are homeless (Hi JJ).

I love that they threw Britt a bone (literally) and let her cry on television for another 12 minutes before she goes back to her waitress job in North Hollywood. I actually like Britt but we need to go shopping and learn the importance of a nude lip. Call me.

So it’s the first group date and the guy’s head to a rapey warehouse to beat the shit out of each other. “Boxing is a lot like relationships” OKAY CHRIS BROWN! Last time I checked, love isn’t similar to dodging punches but whatever.

Ben Z is hunky, Justin has a kid named “AURELIUS” so he’s out, the other blonde looks like he’s on the front page of Megan’s Law, Daniel is a “fashion designer” so there’s that and legally Kupa has to stay around for another few weeks to fill the racial quota. Jared decides to crash the group date fresh from the hospital in bright yellow shorts which hopefully was a choice influenced by a concussion from boxing.

The first one on one date is with Clint, who I like because he has a real job. The beginning of their date is an underwater photo shoot, which freaks me out. Nothing says everlasting love like forced intimacy for a picture and simultaneously almost drowning. Cute!

Back at the house, Tony and his middle parted hair start preaching his idea of love and this bastard needs to go home and bang one of his bonsai plants. Where did they even find this guy? “Love is as perennial as the grass” SHUT THE FUCK UP TONY.

Amy Schumer joins Kaitlyn on the group date and tries to teach the guys how to have a sense of humor, which is a failed mission. JJ is a straight up, butt-chinned asshole. He is a “former investment banker” which is code for unemployed, I know I know I know you think I am a monster because he got teary eyed talking about his daughter. I don’t buy it, she’s three she is hardly a real human yet and I haven’t seen you facetime her once. JJ is the new Juan Pablo and ES NOT OKAY.

Kupa is basically interrogating Kaitlyn making sure he is not only there because he is black… then when he realizes she legitimately liked him he starts back pedaling and ends it with a fist bump. BYE FELICIA. Kupa and his soul patch need to pack up and get the fuck out.

TO BE CONTINUED…

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Also new podcast up today with Heather McDonald where we further discuss The Bachelorette and much more here: tinyurl.com/thebitchbiblepod

Bitchy Bellini

It’s Memorial Day and that means paying respect to our troops who defend our country and keep us safe … and day drinking #AMERICA. If you are like me and like to be asleep by 8:30pm, getting your drink on begins at 11am. Nothing says good morning like a fruity and frisky bellini. With fresh peaches and juice, it’s basically a fucking smoothie.

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  • Peaches
  • Orange or Grapefruit Juice
  • Mint
  • Champagne (or Prosecco)

Directions: Puree fresh diced peaches in a blender with dash of juice, blend until smooth and then strain to get rid of any chunks/skin (gross). Let chill then add one healthy spoonful to bottom of Champagne flute and top with the good stuff. Garnish with fruit and mint. Cheers bitch!

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The 10 People on Facebook

The Supportive Acquaintance – Likes ALL. YOUR. SHIT. Despite the fact you and this person BARELY know each other, you appear to be the very best of friends on social media. Sends you super unfunny gifs and you two have been trying to get drinks for 7 years… but it ain’t gonna happen.

The Perpetual Humble Bragger – Whether it’s a promotion to be the manager at Cheesecake Factory, a romantic trip to Mykonos or just a constant reminder how hard it is to be naturally thin, this person just can’t fucking help themselves #SPOILED.

The Ex – To unfriend or not to unfriend, this is the question. Facebook friendship mostly maintained for stalking purposes and to send vague yet passive aggressive messages via status updates like this;

“If it’s over, let it go and
Come tomorrow it will seem
So yesterday, so yesterday…”

And you get to troll HARD on their new side bitch. Win win.

The Parent – Doesn’t understand hashtags, loves a good puppy video and posts the same picture an average of 59 times. Most likely to post political, semi-racist and culturally offensive material which creates tension with your quirky Libertarian friend from Los Feliz.

The Shameless Mofo – No birthday wishes, no likes, just un-consensual molestation to your newsfeed with personal vendettas and self promotion– so basically me. Hi! #THEBITCHBIBLE

The Buzzkill – I don’t want to see any bible quotes, sobriety anniversaries, dolphin rape epidemics, terminal illnesses or death announcements on fucking Facebook. Keep in mind this is the same platform for fucking Candy Crush invites. WRONG PORTAL!

The Skanky Hoe – We get it, you’re over your awkward stage and got the lap band surgery. We don’t need to see you, your belly button ring and polyester lingerie set on the reg. This is applicable to men also. Put a fucking shirt on, no one wants to bang a guy at the gym at 2pm on a Tuesday. Get a job.

The Underachiever – Nearing the 9th year of their stint at the local community college, still lives at home and only socializes with people and places in a 4-mile radius of their teenage area code. If you have been in a Junior College longer then you attended high school, it’s time to give up and just become a drug dealer.

The Overachiever – The bastard that graduated from MIT in 2 years, created an app that cures cancer and now is dating Karlie Kloss and only flies private. Just when you are feeling like a baller for getting a new car sans co-signer, you get wind that this person just bought an island. Usually an Indian guy overlooked in high school you wish you paid more attention to. For the record, I luh that Tikka Masala. Call me boo.

The Mormon – Wedding photos, pregnancy photos, dorm renovation photos. Mormons are pleasant as fuck so it’s hard to make fun of them … except they can’t drink but probably cause they are just always pregnant?

Please passive aggressively share and for a play by play of my evening with Taylor Swift (for real) listen to this weeks podcast here: tinyurl.com/thebitchbiblepod

Bad Blood

Taylor Swift is premiering her new music video this Sunday and every celebrity and Serayah (who is that?) are in this fucking video. I can barely get my 84-year-old Grandma to do my half hour podcast series and Tay Tay’s locked down the entire CAA client list. Rumor is the song is about Katy Perry and I’m hoping for full-blown passive aggressive awesomeness. Secretly I think Taylor is sending a message a la Regina George like “Lol Katy, all these celebrities hate you too! Go hang out with Demi Lovato and be miserable! “

Famous people should literally never complain about anything. You are the luckiest sons of bitches on the planet. Someone recognized me at Target 3 weeks ago so I’m basically a local celebrity but still have managed to stay super down to earth despite my wild success. Let’s be clear, I would do a lot of weird shit to further my career. I’m not above it. I’d fake an illness, lose a limb, gain 400 lbs, smuggle some drugs. Hustle has no moral compass and I’m comfortable with that. I curse the day I was born without any serious physical defects… I’d probably have an endorsement deal by now. OR get cast in this music video.

Maybe I am delusional but I feel like Taylor would really love me. She’d be hesitant at first because I cuss so much and exercise casual racism for shock value but soon she’d use me as an external outlet to say all the things her publicist won’t let her. She’d become super dependent on me and I’d allow it while I secretly poison her cats and decide it was worth the emotional turmoil because we only fly private which I love.

So far we have Gigi Hadid, Cara Delevigne, Jessica Alba, Lena Dunham, Ellie Goulding, Hayley Williams, Ellen Pompeo, Serayah McNeill, Lily Aldridge, Kendrick Lamar, Karlie Kloss​, Zendaya​, Martha Hunt and Hailee Steinfeld​. WHAT THE FUCK IS MARISKA HARGITAY AND ELLEN POMPEO DOING IN HER VIDEO. Who’s next? Fucking Vivica Fox? At least that would make sense cause she would be filling a racial quota. Who the hell do I need to rescue a cat from and bake with to get in this video? I’m coming for you Lorde.

Side Bitch 101

We need to address an epidemic sweeping the nation and compromising our gender morale… the social outbreak of the SIDE BITCH. In life you either want to be the USDA prime filet mignon (a la cart) or the basic baked potato. It doesn’t matter HOW MANY BACON BITS AND CHIVES YOU DROWN YOURSELF IN, you aren’t the mother fucking entree. This reads harsh because it seems wildly obvious and baffles me how many side bitches live in denial.
“He works so much”, “His great aunt’s dog died”, “He has a yeast infection” the truth is, if he isn’t taking you to dinner, has never seen you in daylight and still has a parenthesis in your contact info… For example: Jackie Schimmel (neurotic bitch with blonde hair), you are the sidest bitch on the block.

I can speak informatively on this subject because I have been a side bitch. It was brief and it was brutal. He only offered me his roommates alcohol,  only saw me after 9pm on Wednesdays and I am almost positive thought my name was Jade. He would occasionally bring me to work events because I am sociable, can clean up well with a professional blowdry and know how to handle my alcohol. I was poor and would date about anyone I could steal fruit snacks from. I eventually pretended he was hit by a truck and ignored his late night calls. SIDENOTE: Anthony if you are reading this, you are short, rude and smell like latex and failed entrepreneurship. Phew, that felt good.

So let’s assume you are a few chromosomes short and are unsure if you too are the lukewarm creamed spinach in the meal of your romantic life. For your convenience here is an idiot proof list.

You only hang out on weekdays, specifically ones with none of his selected television programs. Plans are usually made an hour in advance and typically take place at his apartment or god willingly his condo, I love a man with real estate. Saturdays simply don’t exist in a side bitches world.

You’ve never met any of his friends, or if you have it was in a very large and very casual group setting. Very few details are shared regarding your relationship and sober affection is virtually non existent.

You don’t do dinner. This has a loophole for manorexics who simply are gearing up for their summer bod, but usually is because they don’t want to have the intimacy that comes with sharing a meal together. Dinner=dating=monogamy=girlfriend=death.

You aren’t friends on Facebook. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, nothing matters in life unless it’s FBO (Facebook Official) not your education, not your career, not your love life. You think you’re above Facebook proclamations? Or is that the side bitch universal code of conduct…. Think about it.

You can’t get him to accompany you to ANY event. Asking him to be your plus one at your friends wedding is basically like asking him if you can murder his whole family and then sell their organs on the black market. You find yourself bribing him to be with you. This is a low point.

You’ve heard it once, you’ve heard it 400 times… “he doesn’t do labels”. Let me be very clear, if a guy is into you he doesn’t want you to be with anyone else. It’s an animalistic testosterone thing. I am not a biologist but it’s the truth. Guys who “don’t want to rush things, don’t like labels and aren’t ready for a girlfriend” are fucking other people and probably on a Saturday.

You are reading this list and are having a mega epiphany that all of the above runs scarily parallel to your current situation. Mazel Tov, you are a side bitch. Although this is hard to accept and even harder to free up your Wednesday late night rendevous, remember it is always better to be the Filet Mignon (or Tofu Steak if you’re a sad vegan) than the fucking baked potato #ENTREELIFE

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The only thing sadder then living as a side bitch is that I spent 15 minutes out of my day creating the visual above. For more tough love download, subscribe and share The Bitch Bible podcast series here: tinyurl.com/thebitchbiblepod

The Fault In Our (Reality) Stars

A side ponied Lauren Conrad once prolifically stated, “I want to forgive you and I want to forget you.” Most of my life lessons were acquired through reality television, particularly from “The Hills.” For example: don’t bang a guy with two first names #justinbobby, buy waterproof mascara, and ALWAYS CHOOSE PARIS OVER THAT FUCKHEAD JASON.

One thing LC and I never saw eye to eye on was the moronic idea of forgiveness. Although I greatly admire her career longevity and polyblend dresses at Kohls, I think it is better to embrace the fairness in non-forgiveness, then to reprieve disingenuously. SO MANY BIG WORDS.

Why does a bitch need to forgive in order to move on? I personally blame Lauren Conrad and pseudo religious bullshit. We are barraged with the idea that one MUST forgive in order to truly move on. Last time I checked, someone else’s feelings on forgiveness shouldn’t define your internal feelings and how you choose to resolve them. All I’m saying is if somebody stabbed and ate my dog, I would never forgive them. Like ever. And that shouldn’t make ME the bad person. Right?

Some shit is just unforgiveable.  I think living in a world where forgiveness isn’t inevitable makes a bitch less prone to do something douchey in the first place. If I watch one more HLN murder case where the victim’s family “forgives” the murderer I am going to lose my shit. Forgiveness is a privilege that should be earned, no? While searching for articles to plagiarize, I found the below bible quote…

Colossians 3:13
Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.

Forgive me for what?  I never shoplifted a sheep from Noah’s Ark or stole Mary Magdalene’s morning after pills. Essentially we are only taught to forgive out of obedience and this homegirl ain’t down. Fuck, I can be so deep when I put my mind and my liquor to it. Don’t say sorry if you don’t mean it, don’t forgive someone if you don’t mean it and please don’t ever spend $450 on a Paper Crown dress.

TOO MANY FEELINGS

Just when you think Asia couldn’t get anymore annoying, a hotel in Tokyo opens up specifically for women to cry in. If Sanrio goes out of business or the country bans designer fannypacks this hotel is going to be booked solid for a decade.

The Mitsui Garden Yotsuya Hotel is now charging emotionally unstable women for rooms fully stocked with hydrating eye masks, make-up remover, a plethora of sad movies (Nicholas Sparks for days) and even some lotion infused tissues. This makes me want to shank myself in the ovary.

I have always been a huge pioneer woman of the ‘No Crying in Public’ movement because I think crying is like pooping or drinking excessively, best done in the privacy of your own home or well kept public restroom. When I cry, my retinas really glaze and give me this amazing greenish hue, which can be worth the emotional turmoil but I prefer to keep things at bay. Feelings happen, I get it. Too many feelings, and you may end up in Tokyo… here are some warning signs you may need a hotel reservation for the Presidential suite.

You are moved by very regular and common happenings. The first snowflake of winter, a baby bird, the smell of a stranger’s newborn. I like to limit my sentiments to the three D’s: Death, Dumpings and Degrassi.

You hyperbolize (I learned this word during my one and only semester at college) fucking everything. For example, you get stung by a bee so you become hysterical, overdramatize pain, insist you are allergic, make 45 of your closest friends come over to assist with medical treatment, realize you’re fine, then apologize profusely and cry AGAIN because the bee lost its life and vow to volunteer at a beehive preservation fundraiser.

You are constantly apologizing. Bitches with too many feelings are always worried they are bothering people. Probably because they are. I will admit there is something adorably endearing about this. Maybe because I am an ice princess and need a little osmotic feeling? I am not a doctor. Also someone please tell me what “osmotic” means.

You are simultaneously obsessed and revolted by love. Imagine what your social media profiles look like to a distant stalker, visuals are the easiest way to decipher if your emotional pendulum is too active. Do you have sunset romance scenery immediately followed by an Alanis Morissette quote? Pictures of kittens followed by a bonfire burning all your exes clothing?

When you’re up, you’re UP and when you’re down, you’re down. And when you’re not sure, fly to fucking Tokyo and get out of town.