On not wanting to fight

Do you wanna fight?

Seriously, shall we go to the nearest dark alley and drop our weapons, raise our fists and throw down?

I’d win, because you’re a frail bitch with a coke problem (not very good circulation, I’m afraid; you’d black out and I would crush your fucking ribcage). I’d love to see you coughing up black, shaking your head and trying to regain reality while your drug-infused brain dipped between past and present. I’d love to crush you sober, too, throwing repeated punches to cranial arteries and that damaged bit of cartilage you call a nose.

"Check my privilege" seems to be your favorite phrase (god, it’s fucking annoying), but you don’t really follow through. You bask in the attention of celebrities at le Chateau (jesus, anyone who’s seen those fake butterflies knows it’s kitsch as fuck), but after skimming through most of your articles I’ve come to the conclusion that you never really HAD any privilege. You’re (white?) cogent enough to string together a few sentences, but you still come across as that tacky-ass girl who went away to finishing school after sixteen and came back trying to fight the privilege she still hasn’t gained. Really, you’re just a cardboard mock-up of someone you want to destroy, and you’ve spent the last decade or so trying to distract from the societal implications you believe come along with such an achievement. Aww.

We all know you were assaulted by men at gunpoint. Yah. I’m sure that has nothing to do with your anonymity (I don’t blame you) but perhaps everything to do with the fact that you’re still seeking revenge on every idle internet fuckface who stumbles on your blog during a search for “sleeping with my boyfriend’s friend.”

Check your privilege? Please. Don’t use that as the catch-all phrase for other people with ambition who don’t really give a fuck what tacky cling-ons like you think. Checking.your.privilege would mean ditching the drugs, showing your face (shutting the fuck up, as well), making meals at home.

I can tell by your writing style that you’ve written in before. (Each time, increasingly angrier.)

I’m pretty sure the last time you wrote in was a few days ago to tell me about the situation with your friend and her negative experience with my advice. (You have a very distinctive voice — intelligent, insightful, and seething.)

You’ll find your last letter added to the comments section of that post you quoted. Look for it. You’ll see that I already extended an apology to your friend. It was sincere, and if there really is anything I can do to make it right, please don’t hesitate to let me know.

Now, as for your increasingly violent tone, this shit needs to stop. I get that you’re angry, but pointing it in my direction is a waste of everyone’s time. I respect your eye for human weakness, but all this venom you keep spitting my way is doing you a helluva lot more damage than it is me.

I’m sure it feels momentarily therapeutic, but whatever it is you’ve got going on, sending me letters like this is just an exercise in projection. You say I’m a cardboard mock-up of someone I want to destroy (fucking amazing line, by the way), but it also seems I’m a cardboard mock-up of someone you feel comfortable openly fantasizing about murdering with your bare hands.

Dude. Get a fucking handle on your shit. I’m actually a living, breathing human being over here. I know you know that, which is why you’re coming dangerously close to crossing a line with letters like this.

To answer your question, no, I don’t want to fight. This little corner of the internet is the nearest thing to a dark alley in which we’ll ever find ourselves, and the kinds of weapons you and I have we can’t drop.

Instead, how about you take a step back and count to ten. I think you’ll realize that I’m not the one here seeking revenge. You are.

On abusing generosity

Why is it wrong to get a to-go box at the Chateau? I understand the girl was a ratchet prostitute, yet what if a regular person does it? For as much as they’re charging for steak, shouldn’t someone be allowed to take home the leftovers? We’re not all wealthy with cocaine habits.

First of all, what the fuck is a regular person? Are sex workers (ratchet though they may be) not regular people to you?

Second of all, there’s a time and a place for to-go boxes, and I’m sorry, but a terrace dinner party at the Chateau ain’t the fuckin’ Cheesecake Factory.

Besides, this girl wasn’t paying for her meal. My friend who hosted the dinner was picking up the tab, and she knew that. She abused his generosity in every little gross and greedy way possible, from ordering the most expensive items to drinking more than her share of wine.

It wasn’t like they offered to box her shit up. She went out of her way to ask for a doggie bag so she could take a few bites of steak back up to the hotel suite. It really was the last fucking straw.

My fundamental problem wasn’t with her being gauche (though she was, repeatedly and to a magnificent degree). My problem was that I don’t like watching wannabe hustlers try to take advantage of my friends, even the wealthy ones with cocaine habits.

On the way things are

I am 43, attractive, successful and fit. I have essentially been single since my divorce four years ago. I seem to run up against ageism over and over from men my own age! What gives? Are men in their forties all fucked up or am I expecting too much to want to partner with a man around my own age? #frustrated

I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news (otherwise known as reality), but 43 year old single men who are also attractive, successful, and fit simply do not date women their own age. That just ain’t the kind of world we live in.

Here in Los Angeles, attractive and successful forty-something men date women in their twenties. Not sure where you live, but best case scenario they date women in their thirties. If you find yourself a divorcee who’s already had kids, you’ve got a better shot, but only if he’s a serial monogamist who’s done with his mid-life crisis.

If you want a serious relationship, start looking at men in their fifties. If you just want to have some fun, feel free to start cougaring it up and sport-fuck a few twenty-somethings. (Yep, you can do that now too.) If you absolutely insist on partnering with a man your own age, then short of moving to a remote Alaskan mining town, you’re probably gonna have to just lower your standards.

I understand why this is frustrating, but whatever you do, don’t live in denial or let this shit make you bitter. Accept it. Come to terms with it as soon as possible, and know in your heart that there’s really nothing you can do to change the way things are.

What does “I don’t necessarily want to break up, but we should start seeing other people” mean? Because the way he says it, it sounds like “I really want to break up, but I also want to keep you as an emergency booty call.”

Yes, that’s exactly what it means. It also means your boyfriend is a selfish, apathetic coward who cares so little about you and your feelings that he can’t even be bothered with the inconvenience of ending your relationship.

The problem is that he’s not lying. He doesn’t necessarily want to break up, which means he might put just enough energy into the relationship to keep you around, so the next question is, how low are your expectations? Do you have the strength to say, “No. Our relationship is exclusive. You cannot be with me and also see other people.”

That’s the shittiest part of scenario. If you’re a strong woman with self-respect and the courage of your convictions, then he’s setting you up to be the one who ends things. If you happen to be a weak-willed doormat, that’s fine with him too, because like you said, he can always string you along as an emergency booty call.

Read this column over at Nerve.com

On how you’re doing

So, impressions of Hollywood: dating an actor makes you feel lonely and the pretty-boys aren’t as good at kissing as they look. How am I doing? - 19/f

You’re doing fine, especially for your age. Spread it out a bit, though. You’ve got a lock on Hollywood, so date a beach guy. Date a Downtown guy (both suit and flannel versions). Date a rich older guy. Fuck it, date a girl.

You’ve got a solid half-decade before anyone expects you to take any of this bullshit seriously, so get out there and swallow it up. Make a few mistakes. Learn your kinks. Figure out what you want. Fall in and out of love. Go do it all, and then do it again harder.

Go conquer the fucking city with your heart.

On getting a cat together

Where does “getting a cat together” fall on the seriousness of a relationship scale? My friend is dating and living with a guy I hate. They just got a cat. I feel that’s another step closer to marriage somehow.

Meh. Getting a dog together is a step closer to marriage. Getting a cat together is a step closer to a one-sided break-up.

Also, let’s be real. Unless this guy was already into cats (which is kind of its own red flag), he didn’t want a fucking cat. She wanted a cat, and he just wanted to make her happy.

Sure, she likes to tell everyone that “they” got a cat, but do you think he’ll ever once refer to it as “our cat” when she’s not in the room? Hell no. He tells his friends, “she got a cat,” and then they buy him a drink out of pity.

They might end up married. They might not. Whatever happens, one thing’s for sure: that cat won’t be living with him one day longer than she will.

On fun-sized advice

If someone openly says that they are not a good person, and also includes that they don’t know what it means to love someone, would it be stupid to date them? Is it stupid to even ask?
They are either telling the truth, and you shouldn’t date them, or they are playing games with you, and you shouldn’t date them.

What am I supposed to do when I’m in love with two different people?
That’s not a “supposed to do” situation. What do you want to do? Try doing that. (If you’re honest with the people involved, and they don’t want what you want, then at that point, hopefully you’ll know more about what best to do.)

What would you say to a loved one who is addicted to meth that tells you not to judge their sins differently than yours?

Addiction isn’t a sin. It’s a psychobiological mechanism that leads to shitty behavior — super shitty in the case of meth addiction — and you should feel free to judge that shitty behavior however you damn well please, because as a loved one, the negative consequences affect you too.

Friend’s bf said she has a rape statistic mentality. Friend offended at the wording. Asked bf, he says he meant she behaves like a victim, won’t take responsibility. Who’s right?
Your friend might very well have a victim mentality, but her boyfriend is definitely a dick for so casually referring to victims as “rape statistics.”

Why do you need the assurance that your questions are from humans?
Because I was tired of getting spam from robots.

What’s up the new heading font? WE FEAR CHANGE. WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN US.

Yes, I changed a font. It added a small measure of visual consistency across my sites. Plus, I just felt like it. Those of you who dig it, thanks for letting me know. Those of you who hate it, chill the fuck out. You’ll be used to it by Labor Day.

You’re always like “hey don’t assume I’m white, I’m anonymous and you don’t know shit blah blah.” Bitch, we’ve all seen your pasty fingers with hatefuck nails and holdin up a book in Powells. You’re white.

Bitch, all you can tell from pictures of my nails is that I ain’t Lupita Nyong’o. Maybe I’m Puerto Rican Barbie. Maybe I’m Blackanese. Maybe I’m whiter than Wonderbread stuck in Taylor Swift’s front teeth. Who the fuck knows? Point is, my privilege is checked to death and my nails look fucking fabulous.

Have you ever been punched?
Sure. Have you ever been fucked in the ass?

On statistical claims

What do you think about the claim that lesbian couples have a higher incidence of domestic violence than straight couples?

I don’t think much of anything about statistical claims without a source, and regardless of the numbers (or the methods used to determine those numbers), I’m much more interested in whatever underlying belief would cause a person to cite a given statistic.

So, here’s the better question: If lesbian couples do, in fact, have a higher incidence of domestic violence than straight couples, what does that make true for you? What belief does it reinforce? What belief does it refute? What does that say about you as a person?

This is the kind of statistic that a gay rights activist might use to highlight a need for more social services with regard to a particularly underserved segment of the population. Okay, fine. I can get behind that.

Unfortunately, this is also the kind of statistic that a men’s rights activist might use to reinforce his belief that women are more culpable than men with regard to their roles in domestic violence. If that’s the angle, then dude needs to step the fuck back.

Point is, if somebody is coming at you with statistics, it’s because they literally have something to prove. Make them prove it and then make them tell you why, because the numbers themselves are almost always less important than the reason someone wishes they were higher or lower.

On being the adult

I recently forgot to log out of my facebook and my mom logged on and read all of my messages to my friends. She now knows that I smoke and drink (stupid, I know, but I only do it during the summer). More than that, she now knows that I like girls, something I’d been hoping on telling her when I’m no longer underage and living in my parents’ house. I’m currently visiting my cousin in Oxford, and she called me crying and saying that she and my dad had never given me a reason to be this way. I didn’t know that my parents were incredibly homophobic, but they definitely are. To even the playing field, I logged onto her facebook and read her correspondences with my cousin, the only person who’s been on my side during this whole affair. She told him that she can’t stop crying and that she’ll never be able to trust me again. She wants me to switch schools for my senior year. I’m flying back to see her today. I don’t know if I should deny being bi or just tell her that there’s nothing wrong with liking girls, but I don’t think she’d believe me.

Can you advise me on what to do from here?

I’m very sorry that your mother is an ignorant drama queen.

Here’s the fundamental problem: Your innocence is a part of her identity. She still thinks of you as a child, and your budding womanhood is a threat to how she identifies as a mother and a brutal reminder of her own impending obsolescence.

Don’t make this about her homophobia. That’s a waste of your time. You have the rest of your life to slowly change her mind on the big issues. For now, your immediate goal should be to avoid drastic consequences.

Let her know that forcing you to switch schools for your senior year would be a dangerous and stupid idea, a knee-jerk reaction that amounts to little more than petty retaliation on her part. All it would do is increase your likelihood of further teenage rebellion and provide you with newer and better opportunities to smoke, drink, and experiment with your sexuality.

Don’t think of the impending conflict as a fight. Think of it as a negotiation. Your mother will be all blind rage and blubbering emotion. Don’t add to it by bringing more emotion to the table. Be cool. You have nothing to prove.

She’s making this all about her, so you can use that to your advantage. When she says stupid shit like she’s “never given you a reason to be this way,” simply agree with her. It’s not about denying your bisexuality. It’s about minimizing your bisexuality to help reinforce her own crumbling ego.

She has all the authority, but you have all the power. Use that power wisely. You’re stuck under her roof for what I’m guessing is another year, so make this an exercise in keeping the peace until you can start your own life.

Ironically, what I’m suggesting is that you be the adult in this situation.

On peace in the middle east

$40 million in your bank account, or peace in the Middle East for, say, 500 years. What do you choose?


If the 500 years of peace in the Middle East results from everyone in the region legitimately abandoning their respective organized religions in favor of rational, progressive, and cooperative humanism, then I choose peace.

If the 500 years is just the same ancient tribal bullshit without the bullets, then I’ll take the money and everyone can go fuck themselves.

On tolerating idiots

My boyfriend is ridiculously funny and charming when it’s just the two of us but is quiet and reserved in social situations. He says he just needs to ‘get to know everyone better’ but it’s been 3 months. He’s literally a different person when we’re alone - what is up with that? - 21/f

Dear 21/f,

When you say your boyfriend is “quiet and reserved in social situations,” what you really mean to say is that he “keeps to himself when he’s forced to hang out with my friends.”

When your boyfriend says he “just needs to get to know everyone better,” what he really means to say is that he “just needs a little more time to figure out how to tolerate those idiots.”

Yes, your boyfriend thinks your friends are idiots. The only reason he puts energy into being funny and charming around you is because you grant him what I imagine is very limited access to your vagina.

I’m sure he’d be funny and charming to your friends if they did the same.

(Just so you know, that sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach is what you get for misusing the word “literally.” That’s what’s up with that.)