Let’s face it, there’s really only one bae in your life these days, and it’s your streaming service of choice. I mean, who else would you spend hours in bed with daily? And as an added bonus, he never talks back, forgets to text, or expects you to stop what you’re doing mid-Scandal binge and have sex with him. He’ll just hit you with an “are you still watching?” every once in a while and leave your ass alone. What more does a girl need? I mean, realistically nothing.

Unfortunately, streaming services cannot magically come to life and date you. We don’t have the technology. Elon Musk, we’re counting on you. But if we did live in a universe where streaming services were the men in your life, here’s who they would be:

NETFLIX – Your Ride Or Die

When all other men have failed you, your Netflix bro is always there to pick up the pieces. Sure, sometimes after a weekend of non-stop hanging you feel like you’ve gone through everything he has to offer, but do a little digging and he’ll always have something unexpected for you to latch onto. You’ve known your Netflix bro for years—maybe you were even introduced to him by your parents—and have put so much effort into your relationship with him that he always knows exactly what you’re craving, even when you don’t. You feel comfortable sharing him with your family, friends, and even distant friends-of-friends-of-relatives because your relationship is so rock solid. Sure, you may wander a little bit and focus on a series that he can’t provide you (*cough* The Bachelor *cough*), but you know you’ll be back spending all day in bed together sometime soon. Honestly, probably within the next 24 hours.

HBOGO – Sugar Daddy

Your HBO Bro is the older, richer counterpart to your Netflix ride-or-die. You hit him up any time you’re kind of meh on your Netflix bro and want to mix things up a little bit by pretending to be a rich housewife with a baller cable package. Sure, HBO Bro is into some weird shit and honestly can be a little intense. Like, I’m tryna chill and drink Champagne right now, not listen to a three-hour in-depth explanation of the crisis in Syria, but you know if you hit him up infrequently then you’ll always be able to find something the two of you can connect on. You keep your HBO bro in your rotation for the two or three times a year where he really shows up and takes on you on an amaaaazing date that Netflix bro could never provide, like a roundtrip ticket to Westeros or a weekend away with Reese Witherspoon and her friend group in Monterey.

HULU – Friend Zoned Bro

Poor, sad Hulu Bro. You know he’s there. He knows you know he’s there. Any time you come to visit his page he gets so excited, literally begging you to subscribe. One day when you’re desperate you’ll give this guy a spin, but you know after 30 days when he finally asks you to commit you’re going to GTFO with some cheap line like, “Sorry Hulu, but I’m just not over Netflix.” This dude is in your life for when you are in the mood to watch something, anything, but he’s never going to be long haul. And honestly, you’ve already seen everything he has to offer. And sure, your parents love him because of all the Seinfeld re-runs, and every once in a while he’ll surprise you with something cool like The Handmaid’s Tale, but in the end you know that any time you’re hitting up Hulu Bro, it’s because every other bro on your list has failed to respond.

Amazon Prime – The Nice Guy

This is the guy that your friends are constantly telling you you need to get into, but something about him makes you feel like the price is just too high. Sure, your friends are constantly telling you about how much easier their life is with him in it, but you’re just not sold, and honestly, content-wise, this dude is just not pulling his weight. Man In The High Tower? Wtf is that? Maybe you and him will go on a couple of dates, but you’ll ultimately bow out after the first night when the sex is kind of meh. Still, you appreciate the fact that he likes all of your instas to this day and you’ll always consider hitting him up again the next time you need some d ASAP (one day delivery!) or get the urge to give Transparent has another season. Basically, he’s just your average nice guy who seems like the total package but ultimately fails to deliver. 

YouTube – Manwhore 

Well if it isn’t the dirtiest dick in town. If you’re watching shows on YouTube it’s because you have truly reached the end of your rope. Maybe it’s summer and you’re unemployed and in a slutty binge-watching phase, or maybe you’re just really desperate, but you do not hit YouTube Bro up if quality is what you’re looking for. He’s the type of bro that takes you on a “date” to the worst dive bar in the world or like, fucking McDonald’s, and when time comes to pay the check he realizes that he left his wallet in an Uber. You then spend the next three hours going down some weird, dark rabbit hole with him and come out the other end having just watched five hours of 9/11 truther videos and wondering what went wrong. For some strange reason, you keep him in your phone and hit him up every 6-8 months when you’ve (once again) hit rock bottom and just need entertainment, but you never tell anyone about him, and on the rare occasion you do see him out in public, you look away and pretend you never met.

SEESO – Who TF Is He?

If you read the word “Seeso” and thought, “wtf is Seeso?” that’s exactly who the Seeso Bro is. He’s that dude who you always forget when making a mental list of all the guy’s you’ve hooked up with in your life. Then one day you’ll be scrolling through your photo stream looking for TBTs and see one blurry, pixelated pic of the two of you at a bar and be like, “omg THAT guy?! Who was that guy?!? I think he was funny or something? I honestly can’t remember…”

Well ladies, it’s that time of the week again. Time to check in on the handmaids of Gilead, and honestly, if you don’t immediately donate your entire direct deposit to your local Planned Parenthood after this one, then IDK what to tell you.

We open on sex, but like, the good kind. The kind where both people are into it and have orgasms and take off their clothes and stuff. It’s a welcome change.

Offred: But that can’t happen again.
Audience: Girl, I tell myself the same thing.

Sadly for Offred, the sex is over and now she’s back in Handmaid world, cleaning blood off of a wall, like ya do. Aunt Lydia is there and so is Crazy-Ass One Eyeball Janine. Important foreign people are coming to Gilead and they don’t want them to know about the whole “we hang bodies from this wall as a reminder to all of our iron-clad regime” thing.

Side bar to anyone from Gilead who is reading this rn (because Gilead is basically real at this point): Ya’ll would have a much easier time washing your blood wall if you try to clean it regularly, rather than only cleaning it when fancy foreigners are coming. But like, I always tell myself the same thing about cleaning my bedroom so I get that it’s easier said than done.

Random Handmaid From Episode One: Foreign ambassadors are coming. They’re going to be at your house.
Offred: How tf do you know that? And where tf did you come from? I haven’t seen you since episode one?
Random Handmaid From Episode One: My commander. Small dick, big mouth.
Offred: Lol okay you can hang.

Cut to Offred at home chatting with Serena Joy. Turns out Random Handmaid From Episode One was right: A trade delegation from Mexico is coming and SJ is in full wife mode, making sure everything is on point for when the Mexicans arrive.

SJ: Hey so, while I have you here, if you could not mention the fact that you’re a sex slave while the Mexicans are here, that would be so great.
Offred: But I am a—
SJ: Awesome. Great chat.

Flashback to when the Waterfords were actually in love and shit. Still prayed before sex tho. That is troubling.

Hot(ish) Nick picks up Offred to bring her to the Mexican Ambassador, but first they engage in some very important this-shit-could-get-us-killed PDA.

Hot(ish) Nick: You look pretty.
Offred: I wear the same shit every day.

Offred is now being presented to the Mexican Ambassador, who is a woman in a giant yellow pantsuit. Freedom and feminism at its finest.

Seriously. If this outfit doesn’t scream “I’m allowed to do whatever the fuck I want” then I don’t know what does.

Mexican Ambassador: So, Offred, are you happy?
Offred: …..

Offred:…yes.

We now learn a couple important things about the world of Gilead (aka, us in 5 years). First, we learn that there is a famine in Mexico because of global warming. They don’t have oranges, but we do have oranges. Mr. Waterford is pretty shitty about it.

Mr. Waterford: I know you have rights but do you have…ORANGES?!?! 

Then, the Mexican Ambassador drops a fucking bomb—Serena Joy once wrote a book about “domestic feminism” called A Woman’s Place and was arrested for inciting a riot.

SERENA JOY WE SEE YOU NOW OKURRRRR??????

Mexican Ambassador: When you wrote your book, did you ever imagine a society like this?
Serena Joy: A society that reduced carbon emissions by 70%?
Mexican Ambassador: No, a society in which women can no longer read your book.

Audience: OHHH SHIT WOOOOOORRRRLLLDDD STAAAARRRR

The Mexican Ambassador keeps asking all the women if they like living in Gilead and it’s like, hey lady why don’t you try asking them when all the men who own them aren’t around? Like maybe declare a girl’s trip to the bathroom and get the real shit? Just a thought.

Flashback to Serena Joy’s old life, when she was allowed to wear florals. She and Mr. Waterford plan a fun date to the movies (surprised they don’t have to pray before that too) and they’re about to start the movie when Mr. Waterford gets a crucial text (hate when that happens…)

Mr. Waterford: Remember that terrorist attack we planned? The one on The White House, Congress, and The Supreme Court? Well it’s happening.
Serena Joy: Praise Be

Um…okay so a few things here:

1. I knew Serena Joy was a bitch, but I didn’t know she was a blow-up-the-government-bitch. I thought she was just a like, be-nice-to-your-face-then-subtweet-you-from-the-bathroom type person. This is a new level.
2. Maybe Mr. Waterford is new to the whole terrorism thing, but this def seems like the type of conversation you would not want to be having via text. At least do Snapchat. That shit disappears.
3. Turn down your brightness, dude. You’re in a movie. Honestly this confirms everything I’ve ever thought about what type of person uses full brightness in a movie theater. Terrorists.

Cut back to Offred, who is in her room chilling when Hot(ish) Nick shows up. Mr. Waterford wants to see her. The two of them start making out in the hallway like this is the hallway before first period. Seriously, it’s like these two think they still live in the United States or something.

Just when you thought you’d forgotten that Mr. Waterford literally needs to play Scrabble to get hard, here are Offred and Mr. Waterford playing Scrabble again.

Offred is over it and not listening, which would be fine and normal behavior for someone playing Scrabble with a narc like Mr. Waterford if this wasn’t Gilead and she wasn’t his weird sex slave.

Mr. Waterford: Am I boring you?
Offred: No.
Offred Internal Monologue: We’re on game 500 of Scrabble what the fuck do you think?

Mr. Waterford gets offended that Offred isn’t wet for Scrabble and tells her to leave. Then Offred remembers one crucial detail: Mr. Waterford is a fuckboy, and like all fuckboys, he’s a fucking idiot.

Offred: Can I stay here, pweeeeeeeeeaaaasssseeee *bats eyelashes*
Mr. Waterford: Yes. I am a weak and fragile male.

Then Mr. Waterford and Offred then start MAKING OUT, like she wasn’t just making out with Hot(ish) Nick like two seconds ago.

Offred—u officially nasty. Honestly, you gotta hand it to the girl for living in patriarchal dystopian sex slavery and still managing to be a player. Like, take notes. Ya girl has it going on. 

Now it’s time for a big party planned by Literal Terrorist Serena Joy, and all the handmaids are lined up getting your typical pre-prom pep talk from Aunt Lydia. No alcohol. Leave room for Jesus. Don’t tell anyone you’ve been conscripted against your will into sexual servitude. That kind of thing.

Oserena Bin Joydin shows up to take one last look at the handmaids to make sure they’re all presentable. Obviously, there is one person who is not presentable at all.

*cough*Janine*cough*

SJ: Um yeah who is the freak with no eyeball?
Aunt Lydia: Oh, that’s Crazy-Ass One Eyeball Janine. She’s actually the only person who is excited to be here so it’d be pretty sad if you—
SJ: Get her out of my fucking sight.

Crazy-Ass One Eyeball Janine: But I want to go to the party!
Aunt Lydia: First of all, chill, it’s not really a party. Second of all, I’ll make sure you get ice cream.
Crazy-Ass One Eyeball Janine: Oh. We good.

Honestly, I wish I loved anything as much as Janine loves ice cream. It’d make my life much richer.

Anyway, the girls all go into the party, which looks like the lamest fucking party I’ve ever seen, probably because it was planned by Serena Joy, who, need I remind you, prays before sex.

Offred: Ugh I used to smoke weed in the woods with Moira. This party fucking sucks.

Flashback to Serena Joy’s old life, when she was allowed to wear impeccably tailored navy skirt suits. Serena is upset because now that they blew up the government and installed a religious patriarchy, nobody will talk to her.

Hmm…wonder why the fuck that is?

This is why you don’t make alliances with men, ladies. They will betray you and make you wear green-blue forever. So rude.

Cut back to the party, where Gilead is about to pull out the big guns aka the fact that their country has children in it. The Mexicans, who haven’t seen babies in a while, eat this shit up. Honestly, this infertility crisis must be pretty serious if a bunch of people are anything but totally horrified to have a bunch of 4- and 5-year-old children show up at their party and start running around. Like, nobody is getting lit around this: 

Offred: Looks like Mr. Waterford is going to get his orange trade.
Random Handmaid Who Said “Small Dick, Big Mouth” Earlier: Offred you fucking dumbass they’re not trading oranges, they’re trading handmaids.
Offred: ……………………………………………………..?

Yup. And that’s why you never trust a bitch in a giant yellow pantsuit. The Mexicans aren’t here for oranges. They’re here for handmaids so they can make them come to Mexico, and not in a cool spring break way; it’s in a continued-sex-slavery-but-now-in-a-place-where-you-don’t-speak-the-language-way. Very cool, Mexico.

Cut back to Mr. and Mrs. Waterford, who are pretty fucking stoked on how well the party went.

Mr. Waterford: You’re an amazing woman. I forgot.
Mrs. Waterford: You forgot about the time we literally planned the terrorist attack that created our current government situation? Rude.

Then they start hooking up. Honestly, everyone is hooking up this episode. For an oppressive theocracy, Gilead is horny as hell.

Speaking of horny, Offred is at Hot(ish) Nick’s loft apartment again, but she’s actually not horny at all. She’s the opposite of horny: upset about the role of women and her inability to take charge of her own biological destiny.

Offred: *finally describes what Mr. Waterford does to her as rape*
Hot(ish) Nick: So…are we hooking up tn or….?

The next day, Offred is getting ready to go on her daily walk with New Ofglen—who, need I remind you, said last episode she used to suck dick for meth—when she runs directly into the Mexican ambassador. The two of them are alone, which seems like a pretty huge oversight on the part of the Waterfords, but then again they’re Christian misogyny terrorist so who the fuck knows what they’re up to…

Mexican Ambassador: Hey Offred. So great to meet you. Do you want some chocolates?
Offred: I lied to you. This is a brutal place. We’re prisoners. If we run they try to kill us, or worse. They beat us. They use cattle prods to try to get us to behave. If we’re caught reading they cut off a finger. Second offense, the whole hand. They gauge out our eyes, maim us in worse ways than you could imagine. They rape me. Every month, whenever I might be fertile.
Mexican Ambassador: Um cool so about the choc—
Offred: I didn’t choose this. They caught me. I was trying to escape. They took my daughter. So don’t be sorry. Okay? Please don’t be sorry. Please do something.
Mexican Ambassador: Right so, there’s actually caramel chunks in here. Pretty good stuff if you’d just—
Offred: What are you gonna trade us for? We’re human beings. How can you do that? How?
Mexican Ambassador: PLEASE JUST TAKE THE CHOCOLATES MEXICO NEEDS BABIES!!!

I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again—this is why you never trust a bitch in a poorly tailored yellow pantsuit. Any true feminist would have her pantsuit game on lock. The Mexican ambassador is a snake who talks a big feminist game when it’s convenient for her but ditches it when it’s not. She’s basically Taylor Swift. She clearly just snagged this pantsuit from a thrift store on her way across the border to lull the women into a false sense of security. We should have all known she was fake and phony as soon as we saw her enormous pirate collar.

But just when we think all hope is lost, the Mexican Ambassador’s friend (heretofore known as: bae), who has just been chilling in the background of every scene doing nothing, turns his feminism level up to 11.

Bae: Offred, I can help you.
Offred: Nobody can help me. I am a pris—
Bae: I can get a message to your hipster husband who you thought was dead.
Offred: Oh fuck yeah actually that would be huge, thank you.

Tl;dr: Serena Joy and Mr. Waterford are terrorists, Hot(ish) Nick has the good dick, The Mexican Ambassador is a snake, Offred’s husband is alive, and Rod Rosenstein appointed a special counsel to investigate Trump’s ties to Russia.

Pretty eventful week, if I do say so myself. 

This week, as everyone is talking about President Trump’s horror budget and how much it’s going to hurt people in need (i.e. healthcare, Meals on Wheels, anyone who’s not extremely wealthy), Taylor Swift has her eyes set on something a little more personal: making herself a shitload of money. If you’re thinking but wait, doesn’t Taylor already have a shitload of money? You’re right! But now she’s determined to make more, which is why she’s in talks to start her own music streaming service as a rival to Spotify and Apple Music. The service will be a more annoying, Taylor Swift-focused version of the music streaming services you already love. It’ll basically be like Tidal, except without Lemonade or the Prince discography or any of the things that made you forget to end your Tidal free trial in the first place. 

So like, why now, and why her? (Seriously…why her?) Well, Taylor has never been a big fan of music streaming. Back in 2015, she wrote an open letter to Apple Music protesting the idea that artists wouldn’t get paid for streams during free trial periods, because Taylor Swift would literally starve to death if Apple didn’t pay her .30 cents everytime someone wants to listen to “Blank Space.” That’s why she’s so skinny. And of course we all remember when T-Swiz pulled her entire catalog from Spotify, again over concerns that she wasn’t getting paid enough for the streams, and forcing all of us to have to switch over to YouTube if we ever want to listen to “Welcome to New York,” which, TBH, we do not. 

So despite the fact that it’s 2017 and everyone and their stepmom relies solely on streaming services to house their music collection, Taylor isn’t satisfied. Now, she’s filed documents trying to trademark a website “featuring non-downloadable multi-media content in the nature of audio recordings.” Which is literally Spotify. She apparently wants to call the site “Swifties,” which literally just made me throw up in my mouth. Again, this whole thing will basically be Taylor’s version of Jay Z starting Tidal, except all her friends are models and not giant music stars like Rihanna, Beyoncé and Kanye West. So like…what is she going to release? Exclusive BTS of Karli Kloss walking? No thanks. 

It’s unclear if Swifties will actually be a Spotify competitor, or if it’ll only have Taylor’s music, but either way she definitely won’t be getting our money. It’s probably a safe bet that One Direction, John Mayer, and Calvin Harris’ catalogs won’t be available, because those bridges were burned a long time ago. So basically, it’ll just be Taylor’s music along with probably like Meghan Trainor or some dumb shit like that.

As if the music streaming thing wasn’t bad enough, the documents also say she wants to launch a product line including “guitars, guitar picks, guitar straps, and drumsticks.” Woohoo. Now you can impress all your friends at camp with your matching T-Swift guitar and pick!! Honestly we can’t imagine anything less appealing. So next time you’re thinking about dating a drummer, at least make sure he doesn’t use drumsticks with Taylor Swift’s face on them. That’s a fucking deal breaker.