I just learned the true meaning of "Sploosh."

I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you over the sound of my repeated spontaneous orgasm.

Via IndieWire: Archer Live Action Movie: Why Producers Want Jon Hamm For the Title Role

Putting the "men" in "entitlement."

A 27-year-old on OkCupid sent me an intro message the other night, and I wasn't interested, so I deleted it without responding.

This morning he sent a followup message: "You're too pretty to give up on. I'm very persistent!"

Sweetie? This brand of "persistence" does not end with you getting the girl. Please don't make me get all J. Lo in Enough -- no one needs to see my midriff, I'm too lazy to learn boxing, and I would look absurd with that haircut. So maybe just quit being a dick.

I've also noticed many profiles that say things like, "If I send you a message, it's rude to just ignore it and leave me wondering. The least you can do is write back to say you're not interested." Um, no, actually. The LEAST I can do is ignore you. It's one click to delete a message. Writing you back adds the effort of keystrokes, so... that's more I'd have to do, not least. See how words work?

And boo hoo, a stranger finds me "rude?" Not polite and acquiescent like a proper lady should be? I'm sad. No, really. This is my sad face.

If a guy doesn't respond to my message within a day or two, I don't wonder -- he's not interested.

Via Body For Wife: She Doesn't Owe You Shit

It's in "People" magazine. Because it happens to People.

I just learned that May is Mental Health Awareness Month, so I'm going to post about it a bit, even though the posts never really go well. But I have a lot of friends who deal with mental health issues, and I dabble (maybe), so I think it's important. Though I'll try not to harp on it, because I understand it's kind of a buzzkill.

Plus, Kristen Bell, who's just delightful. And duh, obviously the little sister from Frozen was depressed and anxious, damn. Elsa was all shitty and agoraphobic, totally repressed because her parents wouldn't let her feel her feelings. Wouldn't even build a snowman with her kid sister, SHIIIT.

That's why Anna was sad, disenchanted, and about to marry some asshole she'd known for a day just so she could get some attention. Baby girl had ISSUES.

(Seriously, though, good for her for talking about it, and in People magazine -- possibly the most mainstream publication ever. And being chill about it, just, "Hey, this is common, and seeking help for it isn't something you should be ashamed of.")

Kristen Bell Discusses Dealing with Anxiety and Depression:

Net-fix

This DVD arrived in today's mail, proving once again that sometimes Netflix just gets me.  

"Oh, honey. We at Netflix know you've had a long, stupid workweek, and have a busy weekend ahead. We know you need to spend your scant free hours drinking irresponsibly, eating popcorn for dinner, and watching Gretchen Weiners find true love with the Lord's guidance in a movie that looks like it was originally developed for Lifetime. No, wait -- this has Hallmark Channel all over it. You go MST3K that shit, sweetie. You've earned it."

I really hope she finds out how "fetch" Jesus is.

Or, as a friend said, "Maybe he makes her realize butt stuff doesn't count." 

WE RIDE!

Marky Mark can still finger me. But the Funky Bunch cannot help.

I saw this movie WAY too many times during my adolescence, and this is one of the greatest things I'll see today: Movie Yelling With Jaya and Matt: Fear.

"...The movie was described to me as 'Mark Wahlberg fingers Reese Witherspoon on a roller coaster and then he murders her dog...'"

"And like, I basically could not stop thinking this family is going to be FUCKED forever. Her little brother had to run over a guy to get keys off another dead guy to get a walkie talkie to call the cops! That’s a lot when you’re 10!"

"That ten year old had a DAY"

BWAH HA HA.

And yes, in hindsight, putting a guy's hand up my skirt on a roller coaster does not seem smart, not least because, yes, "there is NO WAY Mark’s fingernails aren’t busted as fuck." But hearing that Bush song totally still makes me wanna come on the Kingda Ka.

I'm not ashamed to say I went to Amazon to buy this movie after I read this, so I could watch it as a grownup, but it's $10, and fuck THAT. How YOU doin', Netflix?

P.S. "...And THAT’S WHY you don’t change the clock in dad’s office so you can stay out late getting fingered, honey. The moral really should be never get fingered on a roller coaster, though. That’s a terrible idea."
"Do Not Get Fingered At The Six Flags."
"The motto of the 90s."

10 Things I (Won't) Date About You

I'm going with a basic list for last night's date recap (Waffles Guy, date 2), because no storytelling would be better than just throwing it all out there:

1. He really likes Triumph the Insult Comic. He was surprised I didn't, because it's "such similar humor to George Carlin's." 

THAT is when I should've left. BUT...

2. He ordered Bud Light Lime. On purpose. And paid for it. With money.  

3. He mocked Rhonda Rousey for saying she was depressed after a loss, because "she just didn't get her way," and "male fighters would never say something like that -- they'd say, 'OK, I'll get back to the gym, work harder.'" 

So... You can't be depressed but ALSO plan to improve? But "that's not what a champion says."

He actually seemed pretty dismissive about mental health issues in general, which is odd because he works in a facility that treats addicts and people with psych issues. But fuck you, dude -- I'm only moderately crazy ("dysthymic," I believe is the word), and therapy and meds have helped me a lot. And I know at least two people who'd probably be dead if they hadn't sought help.

4. There's "gentleman," which I enjoy, and then there's repeatedly insisting I put your coat over my shoulders even when I've said I'm not cold. Dude, it's 65 degrees out, and I am a grown-ass woman who can determine when she needs a coat.

5. Related: While walking, he told me he was switching sides with me on the sidewalk so I wasn't walking closest to the street. 

I forgot that was a THING. 

I don't usually get feminist-tweaked until you start treating me like a child, and then suddenly you're staring down the barrel of 40 years of family issues. I know when I need a coat, and it's our second date, so... you're gonna, what, get hit by an out-of-control car so I don't? Way to volunteer as Tribute.

6. Discussing movies:
Him: "I never saw Lord of the Rings. Is that the one with the kid with the glasses?"
Me: *blink*"...No. That's Harry Potter."
Him:"Oh, right! I've never seen those movies, either."

I don't care if he didn't see them. But how the actual balls do you confuse the two?

7. He said Breaking Bad was "just OK," and that Better Call Saul is better. I hope someone gives you Stevia. (Kidding.)

8. Audible eater. (Of FOOD, shut up.)

9. While not as disgusting or graphic as I would've thought, hearing how diverticulitis presents in an adult male is still pretty boring.

10. When I asked if he was a Trump voter: "There are two things I don't talk about in public: religion and politics. One I know far too much about, one I know nothing about. I won't tell you which is which, but I will say I went to Catholic school for 12 years."

Wow. I am in awe of the enigma of you.

I realize some of this is just me being an asshole. But... I mean, the valid points are REALLY valid. (It also hit a lot of my big-issue nerves, but that's ME, not him, so I'll get into that later.)

P.S. I let him kiss me because I was still curious after he didn't on the first date, and I'll give him credit: Solid kiss, one hand around my waist, one hand in my hair. Good work, sir. A little too much moaning for me personally, but overall, good for you.

"Greasy-Haired Douche Lightning" wasn't as catchy.

Watching #GreaseLive, and just thought it was worth remembering that Danny Zuko was a total fucking douchebag.

Um, no, YOU have a Giles fetish.

Seen in an OkCupid profile: "I am definitely a stereotypical academic in the sense that I love wearing corduroy blazers and holing up in ivory towers."

*blink* OMG. Take me, sir. Take me hard.

The only things we have in common are burritos, mushroom hatred, High Fidelity, and grammar, but let's be honest, I've based relationships on less. I dated a guy for 8 months because we could both quote George Carlin.

Plus, another of his favorite movies is Josie and the Pussycats, so he clearly also enjoys dumb, fluffy things.

Hello, Professor. I will be your dumb, fluffy thing.

"Did your dick get stung by 90 bees?!"

Sometimes I forget how much porn (erm..."erotica") I follow on Tumblr until I open the app at work and "OMG, that's a vagina. Gahhh, shut it down, shut it down!"

See also: wang. Giant, scary, first scene of "Trainwreck" wang.

“Your dick doesn’t end! Why doesn’t your dick end?!”

In which nothing you do matters if you're not married.

Dude, what the shit is wrong with you?! That girl is, like, 12 years old* and a floppity bajillionaire
megastar. Who gives one iota of one kitten's dick if she's not married? Jesus. You leave Katniss alone, Diane Sawyer!

  

"...This whole year of, ‘Who am I without these movies? Who am I without this man?'" Girl, preach. Let's get together and have coffee and braid each other's hair. We'll talk.

Speaking of hair, I should probably call my hairdresser right now and warn her that once I see Joy, I'm also going to hack my hair off with some raggedy scissors and then have her fix it. It seems fun and cathartic. Or I'm just a crazy celebrity copycat.

* OK, fine, she's 25 -- same difference. Clearly a spinster. Christ, I need more cats -- I'm totally behind here.

In which nothing you do matters if you're not married.

Dude, what the shit is wrong with you?! That girl is, like, 12 years old* and a floppity bajillionaire
megastar. Who gives one iota of one dick if she's not married? Jesus. You leave Katniss alone, Diane Sawyer!

  

"...This whole year of, ‘Who am I without these movies? Who am I without this man?'" Girl, preach. Let's get together and have coffee and braid each other's hair. We'll talk.

Speaking of hair, I should probably call my hairdresser right now and warn her that once I see Joy, I'm also going to hack my hair off with some raggedy scissors and then have her fix it. It seems fun and cathartic. Or I'm just a crazy celebrity copycat.

* OK, fine, she's 25 -- same difference. Clearly a spinster. Christ, I need more cats -- I'm totally behind here.

Cinematherapy

I'm not sure what it says about me that watching Silver Linings Playbook usually makes me feel better. But as cinematic spirit animals go, I could do worse than Tiffany Maxwell. (With a Jamie Rellis chaser.)

Unexpected Pixar rage.

I'd steeled myself to feel all the feels and FINALLY go see Inside Out.

But what I did NOT prepare for was the bullshit short cartoon they showed before the movie. It was about a lonely boy volcano, with a face, looking for volcano love, singing an insufferable song about being a lonely volcano and not being able to find a lady volcano.*

Now I have a goddamn VOLCANO reminding me that I'm dying alone?! A VOLCANO needs a soulmate?

Thanks for reminding me I'm at the movies alone, Bitch Volcano. Maybe you need to look inside yourself for validation -- did you ever think of that?

Pixar can go fuck itself. In 3D.

* "Lady volcano" is my new favorite euphemism for my vagina.

"Swallow my doubt, turn it inside out..."

I had far too many feelings yesterday resulting from being social, so of course now that I have a free day to myself, as soon as I woke up they all came rushing back, and it was like a team of squirrels took over my brain and started playing emotional volleyball -- "Confused about this!" *pass* "Insecure about that!" *pass* "Oh, hey, what about having kids, wanna rehash that one?" *pass*

Right. So I'll be here all day with a slow drip of coffee martinis, watching comfort movies. I dare you to be sad when Justin Timberlake is serenading Mila Kunis with Kris Kross's "Jump." (Plus...dat ass.)

Or, hell, this seems like a pretty solid state of mind to finally go see
Inside Out and just embrace it all. (Obviously with a venti spiked Starbucks and a big fuck-off tray of theater nachos. That's just being prepared; I learned that shit in Girl Scouts.)