There’s a woman at my office (the receptionist), who’s really attractive (duh, receptionist).  In my professional capacity I don’t have much interaction with her but I’d really like to find a way to create some without being another creepy dude making contrived moves(I know that’s what I’m doing, hopefully with less creep).  Who knows if we’ll even click… this isn’t about trying to fit where I can’t, but I’d like to give it a legitimate try without boning my chances by being a typically awkward guy.

Pen, company ink.  I get it.  I’m adult enough to not let that kind of shit get to me if it doesn’t work. Aside from not dating someone from work, what should I do?

Aside from not dating your receptionist, you should also not hit on your bartender, you should not ask out your waitress, you should not proposition your stripper, and you should not kiss your prostitute on the lips without permission.

Listen, jackass, this isn’t about being adult enough to not let shit get to you if it doesn’t work. It’s about being adult enough to respect the boundaries of professional relationships.

how much cock do you suck before you do 2keys of coke of a strangers rock hard cock. also, how does a flat dried up cunt like yourself get a cock hard enough to snort noodles off of, let alone cocaine? i bet its hard, like watching all your friends from the last 200 years write a will whilst you still think you’re young enough to go clubbing like the fuck slut cum whore gorilla ogre vulture wanna be cougar you are. cougars are hot, i’d fuck a cougar/ but you’re like… a god damn sabre tooth tiger. maybe back in the day… but now? hot shit damn fuck I’m outmatched. Gimme one that can get wet and slick my stroke. Not have a stroke while slicking my stick. fuck off, get it wet. if you cant get it wet… well when it comes to men if you can’t get it wet you can’t get it yet. deal with it. lube your nasty little fuck slit. we can lube it for you for round 2. but we gotta cum in it to once to lube it for twice. fuck off. they sell lube on every corner you dumb cunts. get some. i’d fuck half of you cougars if your pussies weren’t so damn dry/ like the sahara in that cunt. tried fucking a cougar 3 times…. shits like sandpaper mixed with flypaper. its not that hard. get it ready, and a guy from 16-61 will love it. tight, wet, slick. 3-4 minutes and hes spurting like your pussies have been hurting for a hard cock. if that’s not enough. come get some from me. i love a tight cougar pussy. ill fuck one any day, any time. long as you’re up for round 2 a little later. i’d also love some ass. yeah that’s right i love to fuck ass too. get your stink on my wink. smoke some grass while i fuck your tight ass. cougars who have never been preferred. 40 year + untapped assholes…. I’m trying not to cum right now. so tight. so fresh. pound your ass right onto my flesh. right now. any unfucked cougar ass. give me some skin. fuck it like youd suck it. on that note suck it like you would help a lady who was stuck. in a building from the war.we save those cunts from war so theyll fuck us like a whore. any lass id save id fuck like a duck. id make an honest woman out of her sure, but only if she can fuck and suck like sister parish. if not, the HEADmistress can keep on CUMMING on.

Wow. You’re a magnificent idiot.

I mean, sure, people submit stupid shit like this all the time, and while I’ll give you credit for the sheer bulk of your obscenity, I have to say, you still fucked up big time.

You see, for whatever reason, you decided not to submit this through my anonymous form. Instead, you sent it directly to me through your gmail account.

Maybe you didn’t think about it. Maybe you didn’t care. Either way, you made the awesome mistake of sending a message like this with your full name still attached to it.

You jackass. Don’t you know who you’re dealing with? If you fuck with me, even for fun, I fuck right back, and in your case, it was all too easy.

You have a very unusual surname, and it took three fucking clicks to learn the name of your mother (Michele with one L) to whom I forwarded this message on your behalf.

That’s right, fucko. Say hey to your mom for me.

Small college campus. Ex harasses and insults me over weekend. His girlfriend is spreading shit about me. I feel anxious about leaving my room and generally uncomfortable on campus. Normally I just don’t give a fuck. What is going on?

You’ve just forgotten that no one gives a fuck what your douchebag ex and his latest skank have to say about you.

You’ve also forgotten that you don’t give a fuck what your douchebag ex and his latest skank have to say about you.

Quit forgetting. Remember how little you care whether he keeps breathing? Remember how much of a badass you are? Remember how big the world is outside your small college campus, and how none of it really matters?

Yeah, I thought so.

Really? Of all the people to sell out to, you picked Murdoch, evil overlord of the most hated soul-crushing, fact-mangling corporation?

What, you’ve never watched The Simpsons? Never chuckled at Family Guy? Seriously, dude, I’m not over here giving Glenn Beck blowjobs or anything. Rupert Murdoch doesn’t even know my name. Literally.

Besides, hiring my narrow ass and geniuses like my editor Sasha Frere-Jones should be all the evidence you need they’re doing things differently at The Daily.

Listen up, all you lovers and fuckers. I’ve got some killer news. I’m pleased to announce that I’ve been tapped to be the advice columnist for The Daily, Rupert Murdoch’s new iPad newspaper.

That’s right. I done sold the fuck out to the man.

I’ll be writing a Wednesday and Sunday column in the Arts & Life section called Dear Coquette that will be every bit as shady as Dear Coke Talk. It’s great. Not only do I get to stay anonymous, but they really are letting me do whatever the hell I want.

If you don’t have an iPad, now you gotta reason to go get one. If you do have an iPad, download The Daily app. Do it now. Don’t worry, it’s free for the first two weeks, and after that it’s only 99 cents a week. You know I’m worth it, bitches.

Go ahead, read my shit in today’s special Valentine’s edition. It’s a column about laziness, monogamy, and hot MILF action. Good times.

Just so you all know, I’m about to hop on a plane to New York City for fashion week. I’m gonna take a few days off from the blogs while I’m whore talking it up around Manhattan, but don’t worry, I’ll be back soon.

Happy V Day, bitches.

I have a great relationship that has lasted over a year. He’s a wonderful, intelligent man. The only problem seems to be that he has a hard time complementing me. I think he thinks its awkward, or something. Do I just overlook it, because of all his good traits? He treats me well, and finds other ways to make me feel special, but my ego thinks theres something missing.

Yeah, no. There’s a difference between legitimate intimacy needs within a romantic relationship and not having your ego stroked often enough.

Just remember, a compliment given out of expectation is no compliment at all.

Don’t be that girl.

I’ve got Valentines issues.  Normally I brush the day off as the commoditization and cheapening of love with meaningless knickknack gifts.  However, I’m currently in a sticky situation with a guy friend.  I told him I liked him and asked if he wanted to date, but he wouldn’t give me a straight yes or a no.  Ever since then, we’ve become even closer friends that talk constantly and spend a fair bit of time with each other.  We’ve gotten pretty physical and have even been close to kissing before, but nothing to seal the deal.  How do I handle Valentines Day?  A gift? Candy? A valentine saying make a move?  I don’t know what to do…

First things first. Get it out of your head that any single act of physical intimacy is the thing that will seal the deal on the status of your relationship. You do not live in a romantic comedy.

Sure, anything from a simple kiss to some hot nasty sex can signify romantic intent, but swapping bodily fluids isn’t what’s going to make your shit official.

That being said, neither is Valentine’s Day. It’s just a Hallmark holiday for couples to waste disposable income memorializing the fact that they still fuck. Big deal. Don’t freak out about it, and don’t be threatened by it.

In fact, Make Valentine’s Day your bitch. Use it. If you want to get romantic, go ahead and do it. If you want him to be your Valentine, then fuck it, he already is.

It’s a perfect opportunity to make some sort of overture, because if it blows up in your face, you can shrug your shoulders and blame it on the holiday.

I wouldn’t bother with gifts and candy. Maybe just a card. The important thing is just to be playful about it all and let the ridiculousness of the whole day be your justification for making a move.

That’s right, you be the one to make a move. Find the right moment and lean in and kiss the bastard. Worst case scenario, it’s an awkward mess you can blame on the holiday. More likely, though, you guys will spend the rest of the night making out.

Good times.