The
Betch
In
Apartment
23

Even if you don’t watch Vanderpump Rules, you’ve probably heard about/seen the iconic “it’s not about the pasta” moment in Monday’s episode.

2018 Oscar Nominations came out this morning, which means you’ve already seen them if you give any kind of a shit (if you don’t but now you’re embarrassed, the list is included here).

The 2018 Women’s March is Saturday, January 20th, and while I totally understand that January is a hibernation month, it’s kind of important that you make it out of bed for this.

Playing “hard to get” has always confused me as a dating concept.

If you haven’t heard about The Five Love Languages yet, you need to take this quiz immediately.

If you grew up watching Sex and the City or Gossip Girl, you probably had a pretty warped idea of what dating in NYC looked like. (If you didn’t, cancel whatever date you had in mind.

Maybe once a year Every so often, you discover a new workout class or get a weird burst of energy at 5pm (LOL), and working out feels amazing all on its own.

I think we can all agree that January is bullshit, and it’s time we stop pretending otherwise.

Catch up on this week's Bachelor recap here!

I’m not going to lie, the research for this article was pretty harrowing.

In all honesty, I think the most successful example of role-play I’ve ever seen was on Sex and the City, when Samantha takes advantage of her boyfriend’s acting talent as an excuse to never learn his actual name (inspirational, truly).

Ah, New Year’s Eve, the universally appealing fuckboy.

If you’ve spent any time on the home page of this website living outside of a cave, you know that today is basically a national holiday, and not the shitty kind like Columbus Day.

In this day and age, if the subject of a guy refusing to give head comes up in TV/movies/over brunch, the response from women in the area (and any eavesdropping TTH men) is immediate and severe.

If he gets you makeup or lingerie, sorry, but it's over.

In the latest episode of Straight Up with Stassi, VPR star Stassi Schroeder decided to do something that made a large portion of her very niche fanbase most of America collectively facepalm: She diverged from her areas of expertise (sex, fashion, and wine), and spoke out instead about the recent slew of sexual assault allegations, as well as the #Metoo campaign specifically.

There’s plenty to hate about Lena Dunham already—her infantile, grating narcissism, her dubious alignment with Taylor Swift’s girl squad, and every line she’s ever uttered as Hannah Horvath come to mind (I somehow watched every episode of Girls, so if you tell me you never wanted to smack her in the face, I know you’re lying).

Naming the best couple on Vanderpump Rules is easy: It’s Lisa and Ken, and they may well be the best couple on the planet.

You know the thing I just came up with old saying: show me a sexy man and I’ll show you a woman’s hurt feelings verified fuckboy.

After a schizo month of half-summer/half-rain (I’m told we used to call this “fall”), we’ve arrived at the shittiest season of all: winter, when the outside world fights me for my title as Ice Queen gets as cold and dark as you made your cubicle until the interns took their questions elsewhere.

Personally, I’ve always felt kind of embarrassed while giving a hand job—it’s kind of like splashing around a kiddie pool next to Michael Phelps and expecting him to cum his pants be impressed (because guys are the Michael Phelps of touching their own dicks, GET IT?).

It’s officially fall (she says while sipping an iced coffee in 71 degree weather), and that means the season of lingerie as outerwear is coming to a close.

Back in the day, “Sorry Not Sorry” wasn’t just the shockingly catchy hit by someone who manages to remain the least interesting ex-Disney star even while releasing a documentary about her cocaine addiction Demi Lovato—it was also the title of a ~*very political*~ Pantene ad that encouraged women across the world to spend less time apologizing and more time buying shampoo.

Halloweekend 2017 is coming up, and we all know what that means…sweatpants, a bottle of wine, and 48 hours of Stranger Things.

If Buzzfeed’s financial success and our slavish devotion intellectual fascination with horoscopes have taught us anything, it’s that we really fucking enjoy learning new ways to frame upcoming conversations about ourselves.

Photo courtesy of NBC.com This week’s episode of This Is Us confirmed a couple of things for me: 1) This Is Us functions very effectively as a long-form PSA for appropriate use of birth control and 2) I’m a psychic genius, because I pitched this story before even WATCHING Tuesday’s episode in which, yep, we get a pregnant Chrissy Metz.

Because I had no friends as a child I’m cool and literary, I’ve sadly had more than one conversation about the word “ambivalent.” For those of you fortunate enough to not be friends with me, here’s the problem with that word—much like self-tanner or sexting, the people using this word with the most confidence are really the least likely to be doing it correctly.

Heads up, you need to keep up with the news.

Because my MO is apparently to just discredit myself before I even have the chance to give amazing advice, I’m going to start this article off with a confession about my last DTR* experience. (*DTR = the “define the relationship” conversation, BTW.

Read: Celebrate National Mean Girls Day With This Grool Drinking Game If you didn’t know that today was Mean Girls day, two questions for you. 1) Why are you so dedicated to shoving your head up your ass and 2) what are you doing on this website???

Currently, I have four different methods of hair removal in play—threading, epilation, shaving, and waxing (I’ll let you guess which one goes where, if you’re into that).

Okay, I’m sure I’m going to watch tonight’s episode and find out some further heart-wrenching news about the circumstances of this character’s death (oh, spoilers BTW), but I have to go ahead and say it: I just don’t think Jack Pearson of This is Us is such a great guy.

I’d like to be upfront about a couple things here: 1) I am (fairly recently) un-single and 2) I was possibly the least cool single person who’s ever existed.

A couple of years ago, the 50 Shades trilogy hit the shelves (as in bookshelves, remember those?), and our lives were more or less unaffected never the same.

Now that we are officially living in the age of Deanie Babies, it’s time to acknowledge the fuckboy type that we’ve all let come too far: the guy who comes off as emotional, sensitive, and into you (while directly in front of you), then turns around and treats you like a stranger. (The term I’ve heard most commonly for this is “softboy,” but that just makes me think his dick doesn’t work.) The problem with this guy is that he’s “emotionally evolved” enough that he’ll try to avoid lying to you outright—instead, he’ll often actually present himself as going out of his way to be honest, while telling you misleading garbage that serves his own needs.

As per my usual morning routine, at roughly 8:54am today I finally got out of my apartment while picking up my Uber’s third “where the fuck are you” call.

When my boyfriend found out I was writing an article about guys' go-to sex positions, he displayed an emotional range that I usually reserve for getting my hair cut or finding out a TV show I watch is cancelled — you know, the really traumatic stuff.

If you’re not a total airhead, you probably experience a decent amount of anxiety on a daily basis.

Before you jump down my throat for suggesting a dick malfunction could ever be a betch’s fault, please know that I am familiar with the vile shit guys come up with when we dare to suggest that ED is not our problem.

Let’s get something clear from the start: one of these is not actually dating.

If you’re reading this, congratulations.