Betches
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So you’re a woke-ass betch but you keep getting curved?

I've read just about every article there is on why ghosting is wrong and you shouldn't do it.

The most important Instagram event of the year is finally here.

Any betch who's into makeup will tell you that finding a good lipstick can be a fucking ordeal.

Someone who is probably now dead or less famous than Angelina from Jersey Shore once said something about the fact that boredom doesn’t exist because of creativity.

As far as religious holidays go, Easter is pretty lit.

Unless you’re a Kardashian and can afford to pay a flock of nannies salaries that rival what most surgeons make, babies typically symbolize the end of a betch’s most epic party days.

Spring cleaning is the one time a year you’re allowed to put your shit in garbage bags without looking as trashy as Angelina moving into the Jersey Shore house.

Honestly, spring is the absolute worst season to dress for.

Besides serving as a solid excuse to sit inside, complain about the weather, and watch HBO GO all day, rain sucks.

It used to only be okay to wear black and red if you were Kirsten Dunst in Bring it On or like, Avril Lavigne.

Karl Lagerfeld once said that “sweatpants are a sign of defeat,” but that was probably way before Gigi Hadid and the rest of the fashion betches created the athleisure movement to make it socially acceptable to wear comfortable clothes in public.

Thanks to the masterminds at SoulCycle, Kate Hudson’s latest attempt at relevancy, and LuLuLemon (s/o to my dad’s Amex), athleisure has become a standard code of dress.

Arthur George, Rob Kardashian's sock company that you probably forgot existed, recently pushed their line of "wedding socks" this week, which is odd considering the closest Rob Kardashian has ever come to being married was knocking up Blac Chyna and having her steal both his baby and his Eggos while he was out of the house.

Everything I am (which isn’t much, but let’s not get sidetracked) is a direct product of the 90s.

In case you haven’t noticed, it’s basically 2004 again.

In case you haven’t noticed, American Apparel is having a total meltdown.

Okay people, it is 2017.

In a definitive ranking of Hollywood transformations, I’m putting Emma Watson at #2, right under Michael Jackson and right before Caitlyn Jenner.

Now that Nick's contract has finally run out with ABC The Bachelor is finally over we can all properly prepare ourselves for the shitshow of the summer aka Bachelor in Paradise.

I love St.

Ah, one of my favorite holidays is upon us.

There’s nothing I love more than a holiday that encourages you to get shitfaced off green beer as an excuse to celebrate a part of your heritage that represents 2% of your genetic makeup.

In today’s world there’s no shortage of batshit people doing batshit things in their quest to look younger and hotter than their younger sister that sells lip kits.

Unless you didn't get on Instagram yesterday, you may have noticed that we had a casual blizzard in NYC.

Just when I wanted to trade in watching The Bachelor for watching paint dry, Corinne Olympios, nap queen and personal hero of mine, said this: “My heart is gold, but my vagine is platinum.” And sorority girls all over America got out their bedazzlers and went to town on making matching T-shirts because #feminism.

We’ve already established that you can now drink yourself pretty, but what's better than incorporating drinking into your beauty regimen?

My nail lady and I are practically besties, usually only communicating in a series of soft smiles, appropriate chuckles here and there, and nods for yes or no.

“The most dramatic season yet” of The Bachelor is wrapping up aka the season I had a decent nap every Monday night.

Music festival season is in full force, so brace your social media yourself.

In case the world wasn't already going to shit, apparently now your makeup could be sabotaging your Instagram photos.

Let’s face it, this season of The Bachelor has been one shit storm after another.

Finally a beauty treatment that celebrates our strengths, like drinking flavored water and barely doing any work.

While Donald J Cheeto was screaming internally attempting to win back the American people at his first solo address to Congress, another desperate power play was being made in the dead of night.

Ah, my favorite time of year is finally here: The Oscars aka The Plastics of awards seasons and a day celebs spend starving themselves and holding their makeup artists hostage for 23 hours straight.

In case there weren’t enough terrifying beauty trends in 2017 already (see: Lisa Frank makeup and the comeback of spray tans via the Cheeto Dictator of the United States), now people are tattooing freckles on their faces and redheads all over the world are ugly crying over their unused concealer sticks.

Betches of the Northeast and Midwest, prepare to bitch about the weather like never before (or at least since 2014), because another Polar Vortex is on its way to fuck everything up.

At first, ‘90s nostalgia was harmless.

Time to start flirting with your molly plug again: The Coachella lineup was released on January 3, and it’s so fucking awesome I’m reconsidering my hatred of the festival.

At last, science has confirmed something betches figured out a long time ago.