The reason you’re not married yet is because I don’t really care why you’re not married and no one else does, either. Seriously, nobody cares. You shouldn’t care. Marriage isn’t a tiara. It’s not a ribbon to cut or one of those big novelty lottery checks. You don’t “deserve” a husband. You’re not Veruca Salt. You should be happy with whatever life gives you, because the only thing you truly “deserve” is a grave, although there just aren’t enough funeral pyres in these modern times. But I don’t want you to freak out. If you’re not married, or single, or unhappy, then life is working out as it should. No one has a right to happiness. As Americans, we only have a right to the pursuit of happiness. This explains why we love cars so much. The road trip is more important than the tourist trap. Enjoy the view. Roll down the window. Keep reading »
As I write this, the floating concrete mall known as Manhattan is experiencing a “wintery mix,” which is what happens when Old Man Winter has food poisoning. Walking to work this morning I got snow up my nose, elbowed in the fat wings by a grumpy Hobbit wrapped in scarves waiting for the subway, and went ankle deep in an enchanted ice puddle. It had to be enchanted, because I’m sure it laughed at me as I cursed. As a little kid, I was certain that snow was just God shaking a giant powdered donut over my house, but now that I am older, I know that snow is just Death’s dandruff. The winter is only enjoyed by Vikings, Tauntauns and people in relationships. Keep reading »
So long as love rides shotgun in your life, nothing can ever truly be that bad. It is the singular prize that trumps all others, the reward that sweetens every success. Truly, it is the hot fudge on the ice cream scoops of personal achievement. Now, excuse me while I puke a little in my mouth. Actually, I’m going to shotgun a cheap beer and play some Grand Theft Auto 4 to make amends for such an unforgivably cheeseball observation. More on love and rewards and, ZOMG, trust, after the jump…. Plus, a fable!
Keep reading »
Douchebags were a conspiracy of the patriarchy, a medieval-looking invention that simultaneously suggested that female sex organs were filthy, stinky and repulsive to men, and promised to cure this imaginary affliction. But it doesn’t cure anything. Douchebags can, in fact, upset the natural bacterial culture of the vagina that protects the organ from infection.
There’s also the small matter that unwashed men and women can rid themselves of odorous funks by showering regularly, or even semi-regularly. Vaginas smell like sex and sex smells good. Nibble your lower lip and roll your eyes into the back of the skull good. It is one of those scents that inspire immediate physical reactions. The smell of warm bread makes you drool. The smell of a roaring fires makes you cuddly. The smell of sex makes your skin glow like the digital warriors in “Tron Legacy.” Keep reading »
While there are still a few days left in 2010, we’re going to feature some of our best and favorite posts from the last year. Each of your regular Frisky bloggers has picked out her 10 favorite posts from 2010—some you may remember well, others might have slipped past your radar. Either way, we hope you’ll relive the best of The Frisky in 2010. Here’s the wisdom our token male, John DeVore, shared this year. Keep reading »