What do you think about the death penalty? Or punishment in general? Have you ever read Discipline & Punish? I can’t stop.

I’m against the death penalty, as no government “of the people” deserves the right to take a life any more than an individual person does. As far as punishment in general, our criminal justice system is a punitive and grotesque method of social control that is the single greatest obstacle to our freedom. Too often, those involved in our legal system confuse their duty to protect the people with the authority to punish them.

Hey there,
Do you believe a mid-life crisis is anywhere in your near future?
Just curious.

Is this a fucked up way of asking my age? I don’t know. I looked up the characteristics of mid-life crisis — alcohol abuse, conspicuous consumption, depression, paying special attention to physical appearance, relationships with younger people — I mean, seriously. How am I supposed to tell that shit apart from an average weekend?

I want to be a woman- free and beautiful. Almost done with my last year in high school, ready to move out and go to art school. Where do I start?

Beauty ain’t free. Neither is art school. A good place to start might be limiting your use of phrase, “I want.” Good luck!

If you would, some advice? I’m stuck at shitty college 20 minutes away from home (that’s an apartment my mother, her boyfriend, and their baby). I can’t decide on my major and I am dreading “making friends” with the Disney Channel rejects that live in the same dorms as I. What the fuck am I to do? I know what I want (FUN friends, a job, a car), I just don’t know how to get there.

— Animal

Stuck at a shitty college? Fuck you.

Walk ten minutes in any direction. Stop at whatever fast food shit hole is in your field of vision. Go inside and ask the woman at the counter for a job application. Look her in the eye and say thank you. Walk back to your dorm room and pin that application to the wall next to your desk.

That, my friend, is a job.

What you have is an opportunity for a career. You’re lucky to be at that college. You’re lucky to have Disney Channel dorm-mates. Getting to pick a major is a fucking privilege.

I got my first shitty job when I was fourteen years old. Since then, I’ve earned two degrees and spent well over a decade in my chosen field climbing my way up from entry level bitch to madam fucking executive. None of it has been easy.

My wild weekends? I earn that shit.

You want to know how to get there? Quit whining, get rid of the attitude, and do the fucking work. That’s the only way anything will ever happen.

In the meantime, if you really can’t decide on a major, pick the one with the fewest bullshit prerequisites and that allows the most flexibility in course selection. Your major is absolutely meaningless in the real world, so fill your schedule with whatever classes fascinate you.

Good luck, and I hope you never have to fill out that application.

I lost my virginity at 13. Everyone found out and people I dont know still ask me about it.

I like to believe that i loved the guy and i just didnt know what i was doing. Now every guy since then has just tried to use me. But ive never done anything with anyone after that. I dont know why i just told you this.

“Post hoc ergo propter hoc” — look it up. It’s me calling you out on the logical fallacy that “I lost my virginity at 13,” therefore “every guy since has just tried to use me.” That’s not the way it works. Your problem isn’t how early you started fucking, it’s that now you’ve got a victim mentality.

You have the capacity for unimaginable strength, power, and beauty. I just hope you discover it before the wolves devour you. Tell you what, a solid place for you to start would be to read The Mastery of Love. Trust me on this.

I was talking to this guy for a short while. HE gave me his number, and HE suggested that we hang out sometime. I texted him, made small talk, and he asked me whats good for this week. So I told him that I was going to a rave and that he should come with me. He said yea, and expressed interest in going. He stopped replying after a while. I texted him day of the rave and asked if he still wanted to go. No reply. What the fuck is this niggas problem? Did I get stood up, or dyou think he got arrested (or something else preventing him from texting me back)?

You never made plans. He didn’t leave you outside the rave holding his glow stick. You weren’t stood up.

It sounds like he’s either flakey or incarcerated. Either way, delete his number, turn up the Tiesto, and dance like you don’t give a shit.

would you rather have a time machine or a mountain of blow?

— alex d.

I think the feds asked John DeLorean the same question back in the 80s. As I recall, he didn’t give the right answer.

I’m with you on this: “Truth be told, I find that people who build their identity around any external institution — be it a sports team, a religion, or an alternative lifestyle — are weak minded and lack personality.”

But HELLO. You identify as an “LA Party Girl”. Your institution, as it were, is…well…drugs.

Sorry, but that seems just slightly hypocritical.

I still love you, though.

— Kris

Having an identity is not the same thing as identifying via an external institution, and drugs are no more an institution than the war on drugs is an actual war. It’s not like I belong to a gang called the “LA Party Girls.”

I have my own style. I have my own world view. I have my own moral code. Sure, this blog has a theme, but don’t confuse a literary device for a personal creed. The difference between me and your average bible-thumping blogger is that I don’t have to ask what Jesus would do. I think for myself.