Dear Bitter Amanda,
My girlfriend keeps stealing my shoes. I bought these kickass plaid sneakers, and she thinks that just because she can get them on her feet and walk without tripping in them that she is entitled to them. But, Bitter Amanda, they are my kickass plaid sneakers. They go with my kickass plaid pants perfectly. And love them. I love them more than any other article of clothing I have including my lucky Red Sox baseball cap (which helped win not one, but two World Series' in the past 3 years). I love them more than chicken soup with rice. I love them more than- dare I say it- my iPhone. Yes, Bitter Amanda. I love my kickass plaid sneakers very, very much. And she keeps wearing them. How do I make her understand that my kickass plaid sneakers are not hers for the taking?
Shoeless Joe
Hannibal, MO
Dear Field of Dreams,
First of all, you should not be wearing plaid shoes with plaid pants. Period. Maybe she's doing you a favor because you're embarrassing her in public with your total lack of coordination. And because of that, she's probably a really good lady to have around. So help yourself out and do two things: go buy her a pair of plaid shoes in her size and then go buy some non-plaid shoes to wear with your plaid pants. Oh, third thing: chill the hell out.
And if I ever hear about you and your lady wearing your matching plaid shoes at the same time, I will make your life so miserable you'll wish you'd never written to me. Gag.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Dear Dumbass...
Dear Biter-girl,
So, what the hell is wrong with my woman? She simply does not know what she has with me. Let me tell you about myself… I am a writer—a PUBLISHED Writer!
My acomplishments are second to none. I have an amazeing intelect and imagination. I can “go places”, DANGEROUS and intense places— in my mind and take others with me in my segas. I Know...pretty cool. I am a Graduate in organizing knowledge. I know things.
Yet my woman doesn’t apreciate what she has! She just stays an arms distance from me. Wouldn’t you just cling to me?? I mean, think of your man—the guy who helps you to post on this webpage and enters your emails for you—you obviously hold onto him, and do whatever he tells you, right? So what the hell is wrong with my woman?? Afterall, I am a PUBLISHED Author. Maybe I should have her come here and read your response—that will set her straight. Tell your boyfriend/husband to compose a smart response, and then keep your picture up there so that she thinks it’s coming from another woman. (You gals can never figure things like that out.)
R. D. (Author, Published)
Dear Dumbass,
I wouldn't cling to you if you were a lifeboat and I was a victim aboard the Titanic.
Couple things, cowboy. First of all, I do not regret to inform you that Bitter Amanda is not going to serve as a billboard for your "novel." Nice try. Secondly, you'll notice I've removed the numerous links to your personal website, as well as your full name. And while usually that kind of crap is to protect privacy, this time...it was because you are a douchebag.
What I haven't taken out are your myriad spelling and grammatical errors. I hope you have a good editor for that Published Work, since you obviously don't utilize the spellcheck function that is standard on any computer.
(Whew. I feel better having gotten that out of my system! You?)
Now, to tackle that question of yours! I do hope I can figure out where all the letters are on this typing contraption! What the hell is wrong with your woman? Let me see...this is a tough one! My my my. Off the top of my head, I'd say that she was going through a mild out-of-body experience when she agreed to go out with you and has not yet found a polite way to get rid of you.
Right now, I want you to do exactly what you decided and let her read my answer:
Alright, lady, listen up. You need to get out and you need to get out now. I don't know you, but you deserve better. I mean, what's waiting for you in this relationship? A dedication in his lackluster sequel? Come on. Get your thesaurus, look up the words in a common break-up speech, find the biggest ones you can, and then deliver the wordiest Dear John letter possible. While he's struggling to figure out what you mean (and trust me, he will be) you get your things and you get out. Now let him back here to read the rest of my letter and start composing!
Alright big guy, I think we got her! *wink*
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
So, what the hell is wrong with my woman? She simply does not know what she has with me. Let me tell you about myself… I am a writer—a PUBLISHED Writer!
My acomplishments are second to none. I have an amazeing intelect and imagination. I can “go places”, DANGEROUS and intense places— in my mind and take others with me in my segas. I Know...pretty cool. I am a Graduate in organizing knowledge. I know things.
Yet my woman doesn’t apreciate what she has! She just stays an arms distance from me. Wouldn’t you just cling to me?? I mean, think of your man—the guy who helps you to post on this webpage and enters your emails for you—you obviously hold onto him, and do whatever he tells you, right? So what the hell is wrong with my woman?? Afterall, I am a PUBLISHED Author. Maybe I should have her come here and read your response—that will set her straight. Tell your boyfriend/husband to compose a smart response, and then keep your picture up there so that she thinks it’s coming from another woman. (You gals can never figure things like that out.)
R. D. (Author, Published)
Dear Dumbass,
I wouldn't cling to you if you were a lifeboat and I was a victim aboard the Titanic.
Couple things, cowboy. First of all, I do not regret to inform you that Bitter Amanda is not going to serve as a billboard for your "novel." Nice try. Secondly, you'll notice I've removed the numerous links to your personal website, as well as your full name. And while usually that kind of crap is to protect privacy, this time...it was because you are a douchebag.
What I haven't taken out are your myriad spelling and grammatical errors. I hope you have a good editor for that Published Work, since you obviously don't utilize the spellcheck function that is standard on any computer.
(Whew. I feel better having gotten that out of my system! You?)
Now, to tackle that question of yours! I do hope I can figure out where all the letters are on this typing contraption! What the hell is wrong with your woman? Let me see...this is a tough one! My my my. Off the top of my head, I'd say that she was going through a mild out-of-body experience when she agreed to go out with you and has not yet found a polite way to get rid of you.
Right now, I want you to do exactly what you decided and let her read my answer:
Alright, lady, listen up. You need to get out and you need to get out now. I don't know you, but you deserve better. I mean, what's waiting for you in this relationship? A dedication in his lackluster sequel? Come on. Get your thesaurus, look up the words in a common break-up speech, find the biggest ones you can, and then deliver the wordiest Dear John letter possible. While he's struggling to figure out what you mean (and trust me, he will be) you get your things and you get out. Now let him back here to read the rest of my letter and start composing!
Alright big guy, I think we got her! *wink*
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
Friday, March 28, 2008
Dear Lynyrd Skynyrd...
Dear Bitter Amanda,
As a young lady, my grandmother went out on dates with quite a few attractive young gentlemen before marrying my grandfather. They took her rollerskating, to concerts, to dinner and to other venues where fun is had. They were cordial for the most part, and (except for that obnoxious one that wouldn't take a hint, who she was forced to push down the stairs) expected little more than an enjoyable evening out. There was a distinct lack of pressure to see the same boy from week to week, and it was not frowned upon to see two different boys in the same weekend. Why have things changed, Bitter Amanda? Why must everyone be so serious? Why the push from some innocent flirting and a nice skate around the roller rink to one-and-only-even-though-I-just-met-you-last-week type thinking? Can't a girl just get some ice cream with a nice young man with out him demanding sole ownership of her affections?
A Free Bird
Dear Lynyrd Skynyrd,
If only. My grandmother's diary (I had to pick the lock to read it. Totally worth it.) is full of stories about going out with various men and makes it sound very casual and fabulous. Sure, she swoons over them in print, but it was really very innocent. I don't know why we've gotten away from that. I'm willing to blame men, though. And sex. I'm fairly certain my gram wasn't banging every dude she went to a movie with. (If she was, she did not journal those particular events. Thank you for that, by the way.) People are having sex earlier in the relationship, which is fine. Have at it! Go nuts. Whatever. Go away.
I'm definitely not against sex. (Just not in public. Keep that shit at home.) It just turns our options into Serious Relationship or Casual Sex. Where is the Casual Relationship? It gets lost. (I guess you could also ask where the Serious Sex is. But that is not something I have an answer for, unfortunately.)
Men, I implore you: casually date. It's ok! Women will accept! Just don't make us push you down the stairs. (You go, grandmas of the world.)
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
PS--Yes, am burning journals when I reach old age. *ba
As a young lady, my grandmother went out on dates with quite a few attractive young gentlemen before marrying my grandfather. They took her rollerskating, to concerts, to dinner and to other venues where fun is had. They were cordial for the most part, and (except for that obnoxious one that wouldn't take a hint, who she was forced to push down the stairs) expected little more than an enjoyable evening out. There was a distinct lack of pressure to see the same boy from week to week, and it was not frowned upon to see two different boys in the same weekend. Why have things changed, Bitter Amanda? Why must everyone be so serious? Why the push from some innocent flirting and a nice skate around the roller rink to one-and-only-even-though-I-just-met-you-last-week type thinking? Can't a girl just get some ice cream with a nice young man with out him demanding sole ownership of her affections?
A Free Bird
Dear Lynyrd Skynyrd,
If only. My grandmother's diary (I had to pick the lock to read it. Totally worth it.) is full of stories about going out with various men and makes it sound very casual and fabulous. Sure, she swoons over them in print, but it was really very innocent. I don't know why we've gotten away from that. I'm willing to blame men, though. And sex. I'm fairly certain my gram wasn't banging every dude she went to a movie with. (If she was, she did not journal those particular events. Thank you for that, by the way.) People are having sex earlier in the relationship, which is fine. Have at it! Go nuts. Whatever. Go away.
I'm definitely not against sex. (Just not in public. Keep that shit at home.) It just turns our options into Serious Relationship or Casual Sex. Where is the Casual Relationship? It gets lost. (I guess you could also ask where the Serious Sex is. But that is not something I have an answer for, unfortunately.)
Men, I implore you: casually date. It's ok! Women will accept! Just don't make us push you down the stairs. (You go, grandmas of the world.)
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
PS--Yes, am burning journals when I reach old age. *ba
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Dear Cheeta...
Dear Bitter Amanda,
Boy at work. Look good. Smell nice. Make brain stupid. Drool. Paperwork soaked. What to do?
Tarzanna
Dear Cheeta,
It's a trap. Do not fall for it. Men know that looking good and smelling nice are pretty much the only tricks up their sleeves that we will still fall for. They haven't figured out the rest, like good manners or the long-lost art of being a gentleman. (I can't say I'm worried they'll crack the code on those.)
It's happened to the best of us, sunshine. Laminate your important paperwork and invest in some dry-erase markers. Ignore the boys to the best of your abilities. You'll thank me later.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
Boy at work. Look good. Smell nice. Make brain stupid. Drool. Paperwork soaked. What to do?
Tarzanna
Dear Cheeta,
It's a trap. Do not fall for it. Men know that looking good and smelling nice are pretty much the only tricks up their sleeves that we will still fall for. They haven't figured out the rest, like good manners or the long-lost art of being a gentleman. (I can't say I'm worried they'll crack the code on those.)
It's happened to the best of us, sunshine. Laminate your important paperwork and invest in some dry-erase markers. Ignore the boys to the best of your abilities. You'll thank me later.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Dear Titanic...
Dear Bitter Amanda,
I know this guy. He's not my ideal, but he's fun enough to hang out with on at least a friendly basis. I have reason to believe he is interested in me, and that if I decide to give the signal, it's possible I'll have something to do on any given weekend. I am at odds as to what to do with this information. He's very intelligent, well versed in many subjects and a decent conversationalist, and I could use a night out, to be perfectly honest. However, as sometimes happens with high intelligence, particularly concerning the male of the species (possibly some function of the less robust Y chromosome?), he does lack certain social skills, such as basic table manners. I worry that his faux pas might be indicative of larger inconsiderate/gross-boy-type issues. I'm not concerned about the rarity of a toilet seat not returned to its proper downright position, or the occasional unwashed dishes in the sink. I'm more worried about combinations of the two, like peeing in the sink because the toilet lid is down. Or peeing on the unwashed dishes in the sink. Far be it for me to change a man's ways (I certainly have no desire to be a female Pygmalion), but I must say this: I will not tolerate sink pee-ers. I draw the line there.
I admit I have no evidence of this creative urination style with regard to the male in question, but it has been my experience that people who mistake coat sleeves for napkins and soup bowls for drinking vessels outside the sanctity of their own home are prone to other, more serious transgressions. He is also what popular culture would deem a "foodie", so, should I deign to give him the time of day, we would likely be spending much time in restaurants. Perhaps schmancy ones. I'm all for intelligent conversation with foodies in schmancy restaurants, but if someone is having difficulty remembering to use a fork, let alone the correct fork, how is one to cope? This is what troubles me.
My question, Bitter Amanda, is this: Am I being too picky or not picky enough? Is it really too much for me to ask that a man have a brain and be aware that manners exist, or have I just been deprived of any available man's attention for so long that my standards have dropped to a point where those previously considered unacceptable weasel their way up to a "well, perhaps if he buys the drinks"? Could the answer be different if he were very attractive? In short, am I lowering the bar, or is it still too high? I just don't know anymore.
Sincerely,
Pole Vaulter
Dear Titanic,
Men are like icebergs. The part you see is in no way an indication of what is under the surface. Sometimes, very rarely, that's a good thing. You may find one of those fabled men who have more to offer a girl than a night out and free drinks. But more often than not, it is bad. Just like the situation you're describing, you can't tell how pig-like a man is until it's too late. You can never be too cautious about this sort of thing.
Sometimes, women do set the bar too high. Women who have seen too many Meg Ryan movies and read too many romance novels. There is absolutely nothing wrong with standards (this keeps us from dating sink pee-ers), but sometimes you need to step back and ask if they are realistic. If you only want a man who has a Pulitzer Prize, then perhaps you need to widen the horizons. Strictly into Olympic gold medalists? A nice idea, but there aren't very many of them, statistically speaking. But a man with good manners? That is certainly not unheard of! (Well...)
Nothing wrong with hanging out with the guy you talk about, but don't stop looking for a man who does the dishes in the sink, does his business in the toilet, and puts the lid down when he's at your place. (Note: if you are this man, email me. Who knows? Maybe I can do some match-making.)
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
I know this guy. He's not my ideal, but he's fun enough to hang out with on at least a friendly basis. I have reason to believe he is interested in me, and that if I decide to give the signal, it's possible I'll have something to do on any given weekend. I am at odds as to what to do with this information. He's very intelligent, well versed in many subjects and a decent conversationalist, and I could use a night out, to be perfectly honest. However, as sometimes happens with high intelligence, particularly concerning the male of the species (possibly some function of the less robust Y chromosome?), he does lack certain social skills, such as basic table manners. I worry that his faux pas might be indicative of larger inconsiderate/gross-boy-type issues. I'm not concerned about the rarity of a toilet seat not returned to its proper downright position, or the occasional unwashed dishes in the sink. I'm more worried about combinations of the two, like peeing in the sink because the toilet lid is down. Or peeing on the unwashed dishes in the sink. Far be it for me to change a man's ways (I certainly have no desire to be a female Pygmalion), but I must say this: I will not tolerate sink pee-ers. I draw the line there.
I admit I have no evidence of this creative urination style with regard to the male in question, but it has been my experience that people who mistake coat sleeves for napkins and soup bowls for drinking vessels outside the sanctity of their own home are prone to other, more serious transgressions. He is also what popular culture would deem a "foodie", so, should I deign to give him the time of day, we would likely be spending much time in restaurants. Perhaps schmancy ones. I'm all for intelligent conversation with foodies in schmancy restaurants, but if someone is having difficulty remembering to use a fork, let alone the correct fork, how is one to cope? This is what troubles me.
My question, Bitter Amanda, is this: Am I being too picky or not picky enough? Is it really too much for me to ask that a man have a brain and be aware that manners exist, or have I just been deprived of any available man's attention for so long that my standards have dropped to a point where those previously considered unacceptable weasel their way up to a "well, perhaps if he buys the drinks"? Could the answer be different if he were very attractive? In short, am I lowering the bar, or is it still too high? I just don't know anymore.
Sincerely,
Pole Vaulter
Dear Titanic,
Men are like icebergs. The part you see is in no way an indication of what is under the surface. Sometimes, very rarely, that's a good thing. You may find one of those fabled men who have more to offer a girl than a night out and free drinks. But more often than not, it is bad. Just like the situation you're describing, you can't tell how pig-like a man is until it's too late. You can never be too cautious about this sort of thing.
Sometimes, women do set the bar too high. Women who have seen too many Meg Ryan movies and read too many romance novels. There is absolutely nothing wrong with standards (this keeps us from dating sink pee-ers), but sometimes you need to step back and ask if they are realistic. If you only want a man who has a Pulitzer Prize, then perhaps you need to widen the horizons. Strictly into Olympic gold medalists? A nice idea, but there aren't very many of them, statistically speaking. But a man with good manners? That is certainly not unheard of! (Well...)
Nothing wrong with hanging out with the guy you talk about, but don't stop looking for a man who does the dishes in the sink, does his business in the toilet, and puts the lid down when he's at your place. (Note: if you are this man, email me. Who knows? Maybe I can do some match-making.)
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Dear Princess Leia...
Dear Bitter Amanda,
Considering your vast knowledge of the human condition, I am hoping you can assist me. I find myself at an age where many of my friends are getting married. These weddings are usually full of women I do not know, and would like to dance with. But they are often dancing with their friends in a big group. How do I know when I can approach one of them and get a dance? What signs should I be looking for? Is there some sort of code I am unaware of? Please help me, Bitter Amanda. Much like Obi-Wan Kenobi for this generation, you are my only hope.
Thanks,
Single Dude
Dear Princess Leia,
You flatter me. Really. Too kind. All that bullshit. I’m sure you intended to, thinking I might help you. And you’re correct—but you’ve also left me confused. I mean, obviously you know some things about women. And yet your letter would suggest otherwise. You’re looking for signs? A code? News flash, champ. It’s right in front of your face. Of course there are signals! If a woman is dancing with a group of women, she’s probably willing to dance with just one person. Imagine, if you will, a group of [straight] men dancing with each other while all the women stand off to the side of the dance floor. Isn’t that sad? Don’t you want to go up to those women and shove them in the direction of men? That’s kind of how women feel when they’re dancing in a group. Don’t get me wrong—they’re having a good time. But when we see you standing around on the edge of the floor, looking around and bobbing your heads, we just want to shake you like a bad mother with her screaming child. Stop worrying about rejection, grow some balls, and just ask one of them to dance! If you’re not creepy or rude, the odds are heavily in your favor! We just respect you asking—really. That’s the big secret. You have to ask. Sound like something you can do, champ? Should we review?
-Don’t be creepy.
-Don’t be an asshole.
-Don’t be a creepy asshole.
-ASK.
Give that a try.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
Considering your vast knowledge of the human condition, I am hoping you can assist me. I find myself at an age where many of my friends are getting married. These weddings are usually full of women I do not know, and would like to dance with. But they are often dancing with their friends in a big group. How do I know when I can approach one of them and get a dance? What signs should I be looking for? Is there some sort of code I am unaware of? Please help me, Bitter Amanda. Much like Obi-Wan Kenobi for this generation, you are my only hope.
Thanks,
Single Dude
Dear Princess Leia,
You flatter me. Really. Too kind. All that bullshit. I’m sure you intended to, thinking I might help you. And you’re correct—but you’ve also left me confused. I mean, obviously you know some things about women. And yet your letter would suggest otherwise. You’re looking for signs? A code? News flash, champ. It’s right in front of your face. Of course there are signals! If a woman is dancing with a group of women, she’s probably willing to dance with just one person. Imagine, if you will, a group of [straight] men dancing with each other while all the women stand off to the side of the dance floor. Isn’t that sad? Don’t you want to go up to those women and shove them in the direction of men? That’s kind of how women feel when they’re dancing in a group. Don’t get me wrong—they’re having a good time. But when we see you standing around on the edge of the floor, looking around and bobbing your heads, we just want to shake you like a bad mother with her screaming child. Stop worrying about rejection, grow some balls, and just ask one of them to dance! If you’re not creepy or rude, the odds are heavily in your favor! We just respect you asking—really. That’s the big secret. You have to ask. Sound like something you can do, champ? Should we review?
-Don’t be creepy.
-Don’t be an asshole.
-Don’t be a creepy asshole.
-ASK.
Give that a try.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Monday, February 11, 2008
Dear Genius...
Bitter Amanda,
I was having trouble getting work done today. I needed some motivation. And I realized what the best motivation EVER would be: a sex kitten. Someone who would reward me with sexual favors when I was productive and got shit done. Not someone to have a relationship with, just a cute piece of ass who is strong-willed and won't put out until all the work is done.
Where can I find one of these?
~Seeking Motivation
Dear Genius,
Holy damn is that a good idea. (And you know I hate to admit other people are smarter than me!)
I mean, it sounds a bit like prostitution at first glance. In the Julia Roberts Pretty Woman sort of way. But I don't think your average whore works the way you've described. So it's really more like a friends-with-benefits thing.
Since there are no matchmaking services for this sort of thing...(Colleges and universities everywhere should have postings like this, similar to a ride board. (HA!) Pairing you up with other like-minded, strong-willed individuals. You'd monitor each other's progress and stay on track.) I suggest you ask around. Perhaps you have some friends you wouldn't mind sleeping with?
See what you can do, and keep me posted. I love to hear about non-relationships!
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
I was having trouble getting work done today. I needed some motivation. And I realized what the best motivation EVER would be: a sex kitten. Someone who would reward me with sexual favors when I was productive and got shit done. Not someone to have a relationship with, just a cute piece of ass who is strong-willed and won't put out until all the work is done.
Where can I find one of these?
~Seeking Motivation
Dear Genius,
Holy damn is that a good idea. (And you know I hate to admit other people are smarter than me!)
I mean, it sounds a bit like prostitution at first glance. In the Julia Roberts Pretty Woman sort of way. But I don't think your average whore works the way you've described. So it's really more like a friends-with-benefits thing.
Since there are no matchmaking services for this sort of thing...(Colleges and universities everywhere should have postings like this, similar to a ride board. (HA!) Pairing you up with other like-minded, strong-willed individuals. You'd monitor each other's progress and stay on track.) I suggest you ask around. Perhaps you have some friends you wouldn't mind sleeping with?
See what you can do, and keep me posted. I love to hear about non-relationships!
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Dear Lifetime Movie...
Dearest Bitter Amanda,
So, this guy I know asked me out over email (he didn't have my number.) And I was on the fence about it, he seems like a nice guy but not really my type. So I decided: go out with him once, if it's awkward then it ends there, if not then maybe I have a shot of finally getting laid. Well, our schedules were completely opposite, we never got a chance to go out, so we continued with small talk over email. Well, the last email I got from him casually mentioned the following:
"I am moving out of my wonderful new place because my roommate had a psychotic episode and tried to choke me and shoot me so I will be busy next weekend moving. I am never doing the roommate thing again. Time to find a new place. Anyhow..."
Umm, how am I supposed to react to that? I've only met him twice in person, we haven't been emailing each other for that long, and AWKWARD!! I mean, I'm glad he survived his ordeal, and I would have understood if it was worded more like "I had the scariest weekend ever..." but he talks about it like it's the weather. How am I supposed to respond? Now I think he's weird for reacting so casually to the entire episode, and who wants to date a weirdo? But I also desperately need to get laid. What's a horny girl to do?
Signed,
Confused and Celibate (but not by choice)
(PS. When I saw him in person before he asked me out he was talking about his "wonderful new place", and it was almost like he was waiting for me to go "hey, you should invite me over sometime so I can see it." Glad I didn't take the bait on that one.)
Dear Lifetime Movie,
I don't have very many good things to say about men, but I will go out on a limb and give them this one: they never cease to amaze. Their illogical and head-scratching behavior really keeps the mystery alive, at the very least. I suspect that with his roommate sob story, he was going for sympathy and wanted your maternal instincts to kick in so you'd fawn all over him. (Typical.) And he's trying to appear manly and strong by passing it off as a very casual near-death experience. (Again, typical.)
Regarding his date invite, you sound pretty apathetic towards him. (You didn't even give him your number!) And horny or not, you don't want to be apathetic towards a boyfriend. Quite frankly, they are too irritating and too much work to only feel "ehhh."
You have to worry about a guy who can't recognize a batshit-crazy roommate when he has one. I'm not saying this guy is batshit-crazy, but you probs want to sleep with a better judge of character.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
So, this guy I know asked me out over email (he didn't have my number.) And I was on the fence about it, he seems like a nice guy but not really my type. So I decided: go out with him once, if it's awkward then it ends there, if not then maybe I have a shot of finally getting laid. Well, our schedules were completely opposite, we never got a chance to go out, so we continued with small talk over email. Well, the last email I got from him casually mentioned the following:
"I am moving out of my wonderful new place because my roommate had a psychotic episode and tried to choke me and shoot me so I will be busy next weekend moving. I am never doing the roommate thing again. Time to find a new place. Anyhow..."
Umm, how am I supposed to react to that? I've only met him twice in person, we haven't been emailing each other for that long, and AWKWARD!! I mean, I'm glad he survived his ordeal, and I would have understood if it was worded more like "I had the scariest weekend ever..." but he talks about it like it's the weather. How am I supposed to respond? Now I think he's weird for reacting so casually to the entire episode, and who wants to date a weirdo? But I also desperately need to get laid. What's a horny girl to do?
Signed,
Confused and Celibate (but not by choice)
(PS. When I saw him in person before he asked me out he was talking about his "wonderful new place", and it was almost like he was waiting for me to go "hey, you should invite me over sometime so I can see it." Glad I didn't take the bait on that one.)
Dear Lifetime Movie,
I don't have very many good things to say about men, but I will go out on a limb and give them this one: they never cease to amaze. Their illogical and head-scratching behavior really keeps the mystery alive, at the very least. I suspect that with his roommate sob story, he was going for sympathy and wanted your maternal instincts to kick in so you'd fawn all over him. (Typical.) And he's trying to appear manly and strong by passing it off as a very casual near-death experience. (Again, typical.)
Regarding his date invite, you sound pretty apathetic towards him. (You didn't even give him your number!) And horny or not, you don't want to be apathetic towards a boyfriend. Quite frankly, they are too irritating and too much work to only feel "ehhh."
You have to worry about a guy who can't recognize a batshit-crazy roommate when he has one. I'm not saying this guy is batshit-crazy, but you probs want to sleep with a better judge of character.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
Monday, December 24, 2007
Three Sizes Too Small.
I recently hung out with my holiday hero! Together, we were mean and discussed our smaller-than-average, cold, bitter hearts. It was a good time.
Happy Holidays!
Monday, November 19, 2007
Dear Restraining Order...
Dear Bitter Amanda,
Recent life experiences have left me with a bitterness so intense, I can taste it like yesterday's hot dog. I crave something sweeter. Like revenge. Do you have any guidelines or tips on getting even?
Best Served Cold,
Gazpacho
Dear Restraining Order,
Ahh, hell hath no fury. It warms my cold, grey heart. I can only assume you're speaking of relationship-related scorn.
(If I'm wrong, email me again and I'll get back to you. But I'd strongly advise against using the word "wrong.")
Let's see what we can do for you, sunshine.
Try to turn your problem into an amusing anecdote. ("My boyfriend broke up with me by bringing me a present! I guess they just didn't have a greeting card with the appropriate sentiment?") Yours won't be as amusing as mine, but keep that chin up. In time it will improve. (Maybe. No guarantees. You might be one of those bad storytellers.) That way you can throw it around wherever you go, which is a subtle (and quite frankly, classy) way of bringing someone down. Making him the butt of every joke lets the whole world know that he was the butt of your relationship.
There are always the tried and true standards. The Chanel suit of revenge, these tactics just don't go out of style. Making sure that any girl he gets close to knows about his unadvertised traits is a good way to ensure that he is alone. ("God, I'm so glad we're through! I don't know how many more Friday night Lord of the Rings marathons I could have taken!") While you're at it, become friends with the new ladies so that he is in a constant state of AWKWARD.
Now...there are other ways to get your revenge, but it has been advised that I not endorse any of them. So you're going to have to use your imagination. *cough*spread rumors*cough* Excuse me. Rely on your bitter instinct here. *cough*syphilis is unattractive*cough* Damn, I'll have to have that cough checked out.
Hope that satisfies your craving.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
PS- As for guidelines, I believe there is a phrase in the popular vernacular that sums it up. Go big or go home.
Recent life experiences have left me with a bitterness so intense, I can taste it like yesterday's hot dog. I crave something sweeter. Like revenge. Do you have any guidelines or tips on getting even?
Best Served Cold,
Gazpacho
Dear Restraining Order,
Ahh, hell hath no fury. It warms my cold, grey heart. I can only assume you're speaking of relationship-related scorn.
(If I'm wrong, email me again and I'll get back to you. But I'd strongly advise against using the word "wrong.")
Let's see what we can do for you, sunshine.
Try to turn your problem into an amusing anecdote. ("My boyfriend broke up with me by bringing me a present! I guess they just didn't have a greeting card with the appropriate sentiment?") Yours won't be as amusing as mine, but keep that chin up. In time it will improve. (Maybe. No guarantees. You might be one of those bad storytellers.) That way you can throw it around wherever you go, which is a subtle (and quite frankly, classy) way of bringing someone down. Making him the butt of every joke lets the whole world know that he was the butt of your relationship.
There are always the tried and true standards. The Chanel suit of revenge, these tactics just don't go out of style. Making sure that any girl he gets close to knows about his unadvertised traits is a good way to ensure that he is alone. ("God, I'm so glad we're through! I don't know how many more Friday night Lord of the Rings marathons I could have taken!") While you're at it, become friends with the new ladies so that he is in a constant state of AWKWARD.
Now...there are other ways to get your revenge, but it has been advised that I not endorse any of them. So you're going to have to use your imagination. *cough*spread rumors*cough* Excuse me. Rely on your bitter instinct here. *cough*syphilis is unattractive*cough* Damn, I'll have to have that cough checked out.
Hope that satisfies your craving.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
PS- As for guidelines, I believe there is a phrase in the popular vernacular that sums it up. Go big or go home.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Dear Awkward Button...
Ok. So after a company shindig, there was still a keg of beer left. So whats a group of twenty-somethings to do besides take it back to a coworkers house and kill it by playing some beer pong? Well, the socially awkward kid who we work with... gave me a peck on the cheek... when I went to leave. I've worked with him for years and have barely spoken to him. I don't think I've ever touched him, even a simple handshake.
What does it mean? Was it just a friendly but drunken good bye? Was he trying to make out with me and missed my mouth? Was he trying to get into my pants? I'd be ok with that, no ones tried to get into my pants for a while. Except for me, but they're my pants. If I don't get into them every morning, I can't go to work. So thats no fun. And does that mean my standards have dropped dangerously low? Am I just overthinking this way to much?
~Need to get laid, and soon
Dear Awkward Button,
Wow. That must have sucked for you. Since he's a boy, and an awkward one at that, there's no way of figuring out what his goal was. Not to mention, you didn't give me nearly enough information. I mean, what line of work are we talking about? Is awkward unusual? Are you more on the friendly-to-everyone flight attendant end of the spectrum, or more on the engineers-who-don't-know-how-to-have-regular-conversations end? Was he ignoring you all night and then randomly kissed you? Or was it something he was probably working himself up to? Was he kissing everyone? Or were you the target?
See what I mean? Not enough info.
Based on your minimal (and yes, disappointing) description, I'd just chalk it up to him getting somewhat plastered and finding the courage to not be awkward. You probably could have tried to turn it into something else, since he's a boy and they don't strike me as very picky regarding action.
And yeah, you're definitely overthinking it.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
What does it mean? Was it just a friendly but drunken good bye? Was he trying to make out with me and missed my mouth? Was he trying to get into my pants? I'd be ok with that, no ones tried to get into my pants for a while. Except for me, but they're my pants. If I don't get into them every morning, I can't go to work. So thats no fun. And does that mean my standards have dropped dangerously low? Am I just overthinking this way to much?
~Need to get laid, and soon
Dear Awkward Button,
Wow. That must have sucked for you. Since he's a boy, and an awkward one at that, there's no way of figuring out what his goal was. Not to mention, you didn't give me nearly enough information. I mean, what line of work are we talking about? Is awkward unusual? Are you more on the friendly-to-everyone flight attendant end of the spectrum, or more on the engineers-who-don't-know-how-to-have-regular-conversations end? Was he ignoring you all night and then randomly kissed you? Or was it something he was probably working himself up to? Was he kissing everyone? Or were you the target?
See what I mean? Not enough info.
Based on your minimal (and yes, disappointing) description, I'd just chalk it up to him getting somewhat plastered and finding the courage to not be awkward. You probably could have tried to turn it into something else, since he's a boy and they don't strike me as very picky regarding action.
And yeah, you're definitely overthinking it.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
Thursday, November 08, 2007
Dear Mrs. Fields...
Ok. So I ordered some Chinese food to be delivered to my house. Because I'm single and lonely and have no one to take me out to dinner. And the fortune cookie that came along with my meal said "This is a wonderful time in your life to look inward for answers." And its one of those fancy fortunes, which has a Chinese word on the back.
Nan pun yau. Boyfriend.
Umm, is it just me, or did the fortune cookie tell me to look inside my life, to figure out why I don't have a boyfriend? Go fuck yourself fortune cookie!! I don't need your 'advice'! Go shove your nan pun yau up your kung pao szechuan ass!
Signed,
Setting my fortune on fire
Dear Mrs. Fields,
It's a cookie. You're looking at this all wrong. (Thank God you people have me.) Eating with a boy is often a contact sport. If they're really hungry, it's like that hippo game that kids play--get your hands out of the way! Guard what you really want to eat, and kiss any leftovers goodbye. To a boy, "leftovers" are simply food that you left on your plate for him to eat. You got to eat in your pajamas if you felt like it, and you could put anything on the television. And if Chinese food makes you gassy? No matter! Nobody to censor yourself in front of! (Not that boys feel the same need to leave some aspects of life private. Since they are gross.)
Moral of the story, eat the second fortune cookie and ignore the first one. Your single life rocks.
And seriously, calm the hell down. It's a cookie.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
Nan pun yau. Boyfriend.
Umm, is it just me, or did the fortune cookie tell me to look inside my life, to figure out why I don't have a boyfriend? Go fuck yourself fortune cookie!! I don't need your 'advice'! Go shove your nan pun yau up your kung pao szechuan ass!
Signed,
Setting my fortune on fire
Dear Mrs. Fields,
It's a cookie. You're looking at this all wrong. (Thank God you people have me.) Eating with a boy is often a contact sport. If they're really hungry, it's like that hippo game that kids play--get your hands out of the way! Guard what you really want to eat, and kiss any leftovers goodbye. To a boy, "leftovers" are simply food that you left on your plate for him to eat. You got to eat in your pajamas if you felt like it, and you could put anything on the television. And if Chinese food makes you gassy? No matter! Nobody to censor yourself in front of! (Not that boys feel the same need to leave some aspects of life private. Since they are gross.)
Moral of the story, eat the second fortune cookie and ignore the first one. Your single life rocks.
And seriously, calm the hell down. It's a cookie.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Dear Keep Your Damn Pants On...
Dear Bitter Amanda:
Are you *really* that busy? Or are you suffering from a dearth of questions? I'm sure there are *some* poor saps out there that need your advice.
I need my fix, dammit!
Impatience McGee
Dear Keep Your Damn Pants On,
Oh, calm the hell down! Go find a hobby or something.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
PS: Am still deciding how I feel about being compared to an addictive substance. Is Bitter Amanda the new crack? Thanks, I think. *ba
Are you *really* that busy? Or are you suffering from a dearth of questions? I'm sure there are *some* poor saps out there that need your advice.
I need my fix, dammit!
Impatience McGee
Dear Keep Your Damn Pants On,
Oh, calm the hell down! Go find a hobby or something.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
PS: Am still deciding how I feel about being compared to an addictive substance. Is Bitter Amanda the new crack? Thanks, I think. *ba
Thursday, October 04, 2007
A note.
Why haven't I been berating any of you lately? Reality television and dating guides, my hopeless friends. Check it out and I'll see you in a week!
[For the 2nd Annual KDB Melanoma Walk...go read the link above for more information!]
Try not to disgust anyone while I'm gone--PDA kids, I'm looking at you.
[For the 2nd Annual KDB Melanoma Walk...go read the link above for more information!]
Try not to disgust anyone while I'm gone--PDA kids, I'm looking at you.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Dear Julius...
Dear Bitter Amanda,
I was at a party and a guy who has been interested in me was there. He told me he was going and was excited he would see me there. I went with some friends and everything seemed to be going fine but he just kept avoiding me! I left because I thought this party was lame and I found out later that he went off dancing with the friend I showed up with! I talked to him about it and told him I was mad. He kept apologizing but I just cant shake the feeling he's using me. I also talked to my friend and she said she didn't see what was wrong with it when she knew I had feelings for him! How do I act and am I overreacting?
Betrayed By the Best
Dear Julius,
Alright, I have several points to make here, so stay close. First of all, you're not overreacting. I'm about to give you some of the most basic advice out there, courtesy of my mother. Ready?
Trust your instincts.
It doesn't always make sense, but you get that feeling for a reason. If your gut tells you he's bad news, then princess, you should listen. It's smarter than you think it is.
Second of all, boys are LAME. They consistently behave in ways that boggle the mind. They claim to be simple creatures; easy to figure out. This may be true, but first you have to put yourself in this ridiculous mindset of mixed signals and illogical moves. For example, you're a dude and you're into a girl. You see her at a party. What should you do? Ohhh, talk to her. Hang out near her. Acknowledge her general presence. And if he's really into you, he'll figure that out. Bu if he can't come up to you and hang out after being "so excited to see you," then maybe you're too good for him and should set your sights higher. Because, I repeat, boys are lame.
THIRD. Ladies, this is just ridiculous. You can't dance with your BFF's mancandy. I know, I know--"we're just friends and it didn't mean anything!" But it LOOKS like it means something, and you KNOW that. We've all been on both sides of that. And it sucks. We are better than that kind of treatment! I am so tired of seeing women treat their friends like crap at the first sign of testosterone in the area. So remember this: even if you know it doesn't mean anything, your friend might not. And nobody wants to be labeled the bitchy friend--dance with too many of your girls' crushes and that's what you'll get.
So princess, what should you do? Talk to your friend. Tell her how you felt, and if she doesn't try to understand, then you totally have my permission to spread the word that she's the bitchy friend. The guy is another story. It sounds like he has to grow up. (Like most of the male gender.) If he's really into you, he'll man up and make some time for you.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
I was at a party and a guy who has been interested in me was there. He told me he was going and was excited he would see me there. I went with some friends and everything seemed to be going fine but he just kept avoiding me! I left because I thought this party was lame and I found out later that he went off dancing with the friend I showed up with! I talked to him about it and told him I was mad. He kept apologizing but I just cant shake the feeling he's using me. I also talked to my friend and she said she didn't see what was wrong with it when she knew I had feelings for him! How do I act and am I overreacting?
Betrayed By the Best
Dear Julius,
Alright, I have several points to make here, so stay close. First of all, you're not overreacting. I'm about to give you some of the most basic advice out there, courtesy of my mother. Ready?
Trust your instincts.
It doesn't always make sense, but you get that feeling for a reason. If your gut tells you he's bad news, then princess, you should listen. It's smarter than you think it is.
Second of all, boys are LAME. They consistently behave in ways that boggle the mind. They claim to be simple creatures; easy to figure out. This may be true, but first you have to put yourself in this ridiculous mindset of mixed signals and illogical moves. For example, you're a dude and you're into a girl. You see her at a party. What should you do? Ohhh, talk to her. Hang out near her. Acknowledge her general presence. And if he's really into you, he'll figure that out. Bu if he can't come up to you and hang out after being "so excited to see you," then maybe you're too good for him and should set your sights higher. Because, I repeat, boys are lame.
THIRD. Ladies, this is just ridiculous. You can't dance with your BFF's mancandy. I know, I know--"we're just friends and it didn't mean anything!" But it LOOKS like it means something, and you KNOW that. We've all been on both sides of that. And it sucks. We are better than that kind of treatment! I am so tired of seeing women treat their friends like crap at the first sign of testosterone in the area. So remember this: even if you know it doesn't mean anything, your friend might not. And nobody wants to be labeled the bitchy friend--dance with too many of your girls' crushes and that's what you'll get.
So princess, what should you do? Talk to your friend. Tell her how you felt, and if she doesn't try to understand, then you totally have my permission to spread the word that she's the bitchy friend. The guy is another story. It sounds like he has to grow up. (Like most of the male gender.) If he's really into you, he'll man up and make some time for you.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Dear Babysitter...
Dear Bitter Amanda,
What is the proper response to a man-child that asks for your number before he asks for your name?
-Digits
Dear Babysitter,
Well clearly your best course of action is to make him feel like the drooling, grunting caveman that he is. Allow me to model a conversation for you. Please note that depending on his level of evolution, he may or may not get that you're calling him a moron. Even if he doesn't, though, it'll hit him later as he relays it to friends, perplexed.
The Missing Link: "Can I have your number? *grunt*"
Your Royal Hotness: "Hi, I'm *insert name here*."
TML: "Huhhh?"
YRH: "Nice to meet you."
TML: "Whaaa? Number? No?"
You see what I did there? You play out the conversation as though he'd properly introduced himself first. In doing so, it's thrown him off his course, because he didn't hear any numbers. Then you can give him a phone number--check out this page. It's called The Rejection Hotline, and it's a real number you can give someone, but it leads them to a recording about how they just got hardcore turned down. I've never used it, but it sounds like good fun!
Best of luck, buttercup.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
What is the proper response to a man-child that asks for your number before he asks for your name?
-Digits
Dear Babysitter,
Well clearly your best course of action is to make him feel like the drooling, grunting caveman that he is. Allow me to model a conversation for you. Please note that depending on his level of evolution, he may or may not get that you're calling him a moron. Even if he doesn't, though, it'll hit him later as he relays it to friends, perplexed.
The Missing Link: "Can I have your number? *grunt*"
Your Royal Hotness: "Hi, I'm *insert name here*."
TML: "Huhhh?"
YRH: "Nice to meet you."
TML: "Whaaa? Number? No?"
You see what I did there? You play out the conversation as though he'd properly introduced himself first. In doing so, it's thrown him off his course, because he didn't hear any numbers. Then you can give him a phone number--check out this page. It's called The Rejection Hotline, and it's a real number you can give someone, but it leads them to a recording about how they just got hardcore turned down. I've never used it, but it sounds like good fun!
Best of luck, buttercup.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
Thursday, September 06, 2007
Dear HUGE MISTAKE...
Dear Bitter Amanda,
I am in grave danger of engaging in PDA. HELP!!
-Terribly Tempted
Dear HUGE MISTAKE,
Nooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!! STEP AWAY FROM THE OTHER PERSON! Just say no! Unless you are getting married and the PDA you're referring to is a kiss at the altar, there is absolutely no excuse for PDA.
SYPHILIS!
Get out of there, Eve.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
I am in grave danger of engaging in PDA. HELP!!
-Terribly Tempted
Dear HUGE MISTAKE,
Nooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!! STEP AWAY FROM THE OTHER PERSON! Just say no! Unless you are getting married and the PDA you're referring to is a kiss at the altar, there is absolutely no excuse for PDA.
SYPHILIS!
Get out of there, Eve.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
Dear Clarabelle...
Dear Bitter Amanda--
While struggling to engage my dearest in a game of footsie, I started to wonder why boys always make the girl do all the work. It seems more often than not they sit there like disinterested cows while the girl struggles to charm the pants off the boy in question with her flirtations and feminine wiles. After a few days/weeks/months of batting your freaking eyelashes to an ignorant bovine stare, you start feeling like a whore. What gives? And what can be done?
50 Winks and No Bed
Dear Clarabelle,
What gives, you ask? Boys are stupid. That's what gives. They don't put in the effort required to make women recognize when they are trying, so they clearly cannot see when someone does. It's either that, or they DO know and are playing some pathetic game of "how long WILL she bat her eyelashes my way?" to feel better about themselves and boost their precious ego. (Sidenote, boys: If you are, you need to stop right now. Because we're very Twisted Sister about this issue, and if you're messing with our heads we are not going to take it anymore. You'll miss out entirely.)
Sadly, most guys are clueless , oblivious messes when it comes to your attention. They don't do subtle and they can't understand it. You're going to have to either set your sights higher or make your attraction more obvious. I'm talking about in his face, "I WANT TO KISS YOU" obvious. And girl double-talk confuses them, so try to avoid that. You can't say, "I like you. I mean, I LIKE YOU like you." He'll just look lost, scratch his head/balls/both, order another beer, and ogle some other woman. Use small, common words and simple sentence structure. Remember who you're dealing with, after all. It's not ideal, but at least he'll finally understand.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
While struggling to engage my dearest in a game of footsie, I started to wonder why boys always make the girl do all the work. It seems more often than not they sit there like disinterested cows while the girl struggles to charm the pants off the boy in question with her flirtations and feminine wiles. After a few days/weeks/months of batting your freaking eyelashes to an ignorant bovine stare, you start feeling like a whore. What gives? And what can be done?
50 Winks and No Bed
Dear Clarabelle,
What gives, you ask? Boys are stupid. That's what gives. They don't put in the effort required to make women recognize when they are trying, so they clearly cannot see when someone does. It's either that, or they DO know and are playing some pathetic game of "how long WILL she bat her eyelashes my way?" to feel better about themselves and boost their precious ego. (Sidenote, boys: If you are, you need to stop right now. Because we're very Twisted Sister about this issue, and if you're messing with our heads we are not going to take it anymore. You'll miss out entirely.)
Sadly, most guys are clueless , oblivious messes when it comes to your attention. They don't do subtle and they can't understand it. You're going to have to either set your sights higher or make your attraction more obvious. I'm talking about in his face, "I WANT TO KISS YOU" obvious. And girl double-talk confuses them, so try to avoid that. You can't say, "I like you. I mean, I LIKE YOU like you." He'll just look lost, scratch his head/balls/both, order another beer, and ogle some other woman. Use small, common words and simple sentence structure. Remember who you're dealing with, after all. It's not ideal, but at least he'll finally understand.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda
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