my ladies are bringing the fun (mollys, mushrooms, acid etc) to coachella next week, but out of respect for my BF of 3 years (who is completely drug-free/isn’t comfortable being around a fucked up-me), i will not be partaking in the altered good times. question is – how do i NOT let my jealousy/desire to be superfuckedup sabotage my own fun?

Your boyfriend is the one sabotaging the fun. Who the fuck goes to Coachella drug free? Seriously, that weekend is the closest thing we godless heathens have to a religious experience.

Ingesting psychotropics during a springtime music festival is a fucking sacrament, and your boyfriend would do well to back the fuck off and let you get a little shamanistic.

Let me guess, he’s one of those Heineken swilling douchebags who’ll repeatedly drag you to the beer gardens to drink piss-water out of a plastic cup all the while passing judgment on anybody who’d rather be high than drunk. Fuck that.

Tell him you prefer to expand your mind rather than dull your wits. If he’s got a problem with it, tell him to stay home. Nobody wants his type there anyways.

after reading all your posts, i realized that your typical answer to questions like “how do i tell someone i want to fuck them?” is plain and simple: just fuck them. i beg to differ. it is not that easy, especially for people who are a bit shy and conservative. i am one of those.

i want to fuck this college senior who is probably going to become my graduate student supervisor. i guess it would be an awkward thing to do since it is likely that i will work with this guy for 2 years or so…but that still does not deter me from wanting him. would you please be so kind to give me some steps before actually getting to the just fuck him step?

You beg to differ? Okay, fine. Keep doing whatever it is that you’re doing over and over again until you get a different result.

Also, keep missing the point. Keep letting life experiences pass you by. Keep making excuses for yourself, as if anyone gives a fuck that you’re shy and conservative.

If you want something, go get it. It’s not my job to give you strength. All I can do is point out that you’re an idiot if you think any of this shit is supposed to be easy.

“Painters paint. Real artists have a burning desire to create.”

Really? I don’t know what that kid’s story is or what your story is, but don’t you lot get tired of Rilke’s intolerable religiosity? So what, you read Letters to a Young Poet and now the only measurement for a “true” artist is that she perishes if she doesn’t exercise her artistry?

You know I’m immune to your sarcasm, right? I’m sure you’re used to making people second guess themselves with that holier-than-thou tone, but the full weight of your smirking ego doesn’t count as a valid point.

The measure of an artist is her art. We have a word for people who call themselves artists without a body of work to show for it — pretentious.

Funny thing, it’s the same word we use for smug college students who try to impress people with their summer reading list.

Why are your answers bitchy and rude?

Better question, why are you so thin skinned and prissy? Even better question, what makes you think I don’t wear my impudence like a fucking badge?

Fuck your etiquette. Fuck your social norms. Fuck your sensible shoes and your purse sized hand sanitizer. Fuck everything about you that makes you common, from your common sense to your common courtesy.

Come at me with a smile, and I’ll smile back. Come at me with attitude, and I’ll take off your fucking head. Respect is earned, bitch. I treat people accordingly.

you are so cliche

Not nearly as cliched as the kind of asshole who uses the phrase, “you are so cliche.” Don’t bother coming at me with ironic detachment. I’ve got you beat every time.

Ever thought about trying a different theme than the ‘I I tell it like it is because you suck, I suck, get over it’ motif? Or is that just the kind of person you’re stuck with being?

At least I’m not stuck being a humorless cunt. Seriously, do you not get how fucking hilarious I am? Oh, wait. One of my answers hit a little close to home, didn’t it? You’re feeling a little butthurt.

Let me guess. You’re coasting through a soft major at some middle-of-the-road liberal arts college, and it kind of bugs you how I pick on people for being lazy and ungrateful. You think that maybe if I’m stuck being some misanthropic nihilist it will somehow invalidate the fact that I struck a nerve. In a predictable fit of transference laced with self-loathing, you fire off a passive-aggressive letter because it’s easier than acknowledging the fact that deep down inside, you know you’re a spoiled little brat.

Sorry, kiddo. I’m having a shit ton of fun over here. I suggest you quit taking yourself so seriously and do the same.

Oh, and by the way, welcome to hater day, bitches!

I’m a boyfriend poacher.

I have this really shitty habit of enticing other girls boyfriends. I know that I don’t actually like them. I’ve had them leave their girlfriend’s for me and I’m suddenly not interested.

It’s simply the chase I dig, not the actual guy. Even with single guys. Once the chase is over I couldn’t be more disinterested even when I try and force myself.

It’s not that I need an “ego boost” or anything of that sort. I have a plenty high enough opinion of myself. I’ve never needed a mans approval starting when I was very young with my father.

What’s my deal? Should I just accept that I’m clearly not relationship material and leave guys (and the chase) alone all together?

Hold on a second there, little miss red flag. What started very young with your father?

I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that boyfriend poaching is just the tip of your iceberg of crazy.

I don’t know what your deal is, but get some fucking therapy and quit wreaking havoc on other people’s relationships.