Bitch Slap of Common Sense: Don't Look Stupid

Ladies, ladies, ladies.

It was over 70 degrees today in Los Angeles. 80 on the valley.

Take. Off. Your. Scarf.

Take. Off. Your. Scarf!!

You're wearing a scarf. Wrapped fifteen times, so that it looks like a lavender goiter protruding from what used to be your neck, but what I now assume is some sort of scarred/ Frankenstein bolt appendage since you choose to put eight pounds of fabric around it.

You're one step away from looking like a Dickensian ragamuffin who will ask me for porridge.

Whatever cute shape you might have is ruined because you look like you killed a muppet and attached it to yourself as some sort of gruesome prize.

You look stupid. Literally. You look like you have little to none of the sense God gave you. It's hot! It's not scarf weather! If you can wear it with short shorts and a tee shirt, TAKE IT OFF!

I don't care if Jennifer Aniston does it, young lady! She looks stupid too!

Now that we have that settled....

Can we discuss the Uggs?

I mean, It was over 70 degrees today in Los Angeles. 80 on the valley...

POOP not GOOP: The True Spirit of the Holidaze

Gwyneth constantly reminds us how much fun she is.

Her GOOP guide to Christmas gifts runs from the sublime (Hermes Womens Cape Cod Watch - $1,850) to the completely stupid (Recycled Bamboo Utensil Set - From $24.74). She does at least call the watch a “dream” present (for us, the Poors)… and who wouldn’t want a bamboo fork for Christmas? Think of all the times you’re sitting, eating, and think, “Geez, if only my utensil were recycled bamboo! My tofu porridge would taste so much better!” If you’re going to get me something stupid and utilitarian, at least get me batteries for my vibrator.

Gwynnie also recommends giving the book Debretts Guide to Modern Manners, 11.99 GBP, with the comment “We can all brush up on our manners.” Nothing says I love you, or I respect you, like the gift of good manners. Apparently. Except we’re pretty sure if we got this, we’d think the gift was saying, “Hey schlubby asshole. You’re a pig. Learn some fucking manners for once and stop vomiting on my lawn when you’re drunk!” Hmmm. Maybe we could use this book. Sorry grandma.

We’re the type of people who don’t want practical gifts. Give us a pretty, shiny, wanty gift! Electronics, jewelry, rent money - you know, the dispensable things in life.

Our girl Gwen also helpfully tells us what the Holiday Spirit is.

Holiday spirit is a feeling of warmth, of togetherness, of connectedness. We get that by giving. … We get it by not getting riled up and potentially verbally abusive when someone steals the parking place we have been demonstrably waiting for (note to self -- it still counts, if you're alone in your car, cursing with the windows up).

She is a WAY better person than we are. We think the Holiday Spirit is not getting out of the car and beating the shit out of the parking spot stealer with the whiffle ball bat you got your kid. Cursing in the car does NOT count. So say we. Jeebus, Gwyneth, you must be on a pretty good dose of the Prozac to never get mad about anything. Usually we’re too drunk* when we’re driving to really get mad, but we’re just sayin’.

By the way, we should all pity little, stupidly named Apple and Moses, because Gwyneth offers exactly no gift ideas for children. I hope they enjoy playing with the $40 Magnetic Wooden Tongs she recommends. Something tells us they won’t enjoy the emergency room trip needed to fish those things out of someone’s nose. And plus - what the fuck are magnetic wooden tongs?

The Brutally Honest Babes' POOP Guide says the Holiday Spirit is:

Stealing the Christmas cookies left for Santa

Doing the best you can

Trying not to fight with your family (and if you do – drinking makes it better)

Not giving self-help books

Giving gifts out of love

Counting your blessings

Bribing your children with vague threats about Santa’s Naughty ‘n’ Nice list

Dressing up like a slutty elf for your significant other

Stealing the best gifts at the Grinch gift exchange without guilt

Dropping what you can into the bin of the bell ringer

Doing a kind deed

Loving yourself

Praying for a better world in 2009

* This is what we call humor. Don't drink and drive, kids!

Unsolicited Advice: Ugh, For the Love of Your Deity of Choice, Put That Away!

So there I was, on the treadmill, walking my way upwards to nowhere, trying to not smell the guy who just got on the treadmill beside me. Really, this post could be about showering the month before you go to the gym – yes I’m talking to you Mr. I’m Not Even Sure HOW THE FUCK You Get to Smelling That Bad and Then Decide to Go to the Gym Man. But this post is about something else, something insidious and disturbing.

It’s about this:


1970s. Gym. Shorts.

Did you shudder? I know I did.

I innocently turned my delicate nose away from Mr. INESHTFYGTSTBATDTGTTGM and what to my eyes should appear? A cheeky middle aged man, probably a douchebag studio executive in this part of LA, wearing the above and smiling heartily at me as if to say, “Yeah little girl – you like these hairy legs, don’t you?”

No. No no no.

I reeled. I got a bit dizzy. My look of horror was palpable and horrible. Still in shock, I beheld another pair!!! ANOTHER PAIR! I’m not making this up. I write comedy, not horror.

The second pair was attached to another douche. FYI, the wearing of said shorts renders you automatically douchey. Do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars, go directly to douche. This second male person was younger, and in pretty good shape, and looking very proud of himself - just like old dude.

Now, many horrible things have come out of Los Angeles... leggings, Grey’s Anatomy, Dov Charney. TERRIBLE THINGS. But the 1970s gym shorts as modern male apparel might just take the cake. Actually, I think I can blame the shorts on Douche Charney, as they sell them at American Apparel.

Ladies, and gents of the homo persuasion, may we please all agree to take on this problem of monumental proportions Lysistrata style? If ANY MAN ever wears these shorts, ironically or not, they get NO SEXING. For reals. I MEAN IT! NO SEXING FOR THE DISASTROUS GYM SHORTS! This cannot be allowed to catch on! Think of the children! Won’t someone please think of the children!?

Thank you.

Lucy

Caught Between a Rock & Republic & a Hard Place

Dear E. Jean: I’m not the richest or most glamorous girl on the block. I’m not able to buy whatever I please on a whim, such as the Jimmy Choo bag I’ve been saving for, but I dress stylishly and receive lots of compliments. My best friend, whom I adore, means well, but she can drive me insane when she thrusts in my face the latest Gucci wallet she just bought. It causes me to feel inferior and to envy what she has. Not only that, I start to feel really competitive, and this puts a strain on our friendship. What can I do to fix this without going on a shopping spree that will put me in debt?—Trying to Chill

Dear Loco for Logos:

If you define your self-worth on the Paris Hilton Scale of Logos for Logos’ Sake, then you have bigger problems than your BFF. Why would you allow yourself to feel inferior over a wallet? Have you no talents? No brains? No accomplishments with which to fill your coffers of self-worth?

Really missy – you’ve made us put on our Cranky Grandma hat up in here! A true friend does not care what logos or expensive shit you have, and a proud female person does not define herself in that way. Put your enthusiasm to better use – read a book and educate yourself, read a newspaper and learn about the world, create something, volunteer for a bigger cause than yourself, seduce a sexy man who enjoys housework*. If you feel happy about yourself no matter if you shop at Target or Prada, then your beauty will shine - a beauty that has nothing to do with your purse or wallet.

* If you find this man, please reply back to us with his phone number.

POOP not GOOP: Masturbate Your Way to Health!

Lucy: My new best friend Gwyneth Paltrow e-mailed me today.

Ethel: She’s suing us for making fun of her? Bitch!

Lucy: No, no – she’s giving us more GOOPy goodness.

Ethel: Yay! Time for us to be full of shit then! Or POOP to be more precise.

Lucy: The Subject of the e-mail was “It’s Goop – DO”. It’s like she’s asking us to mock her. Do is one half of do-do which means POOP!

Ethel: Hahaha!

Lucy: She gives us advice from all three of her doctors: her New York doctor, her London doctor and her Los Angeles doctor.

Ethel: She needs three doctors? What the hell is wrong with her? Why are we taking advice from a dying woman?

Lucy: We’re not actually.

Ethel: Oh, Okay then.

Lucy: I only have one doctor – and she’s just the cooch doctor.

Ethel: Three doctors in three cities. Stars – they’re just like us!

Lucy: Okay – GOOP doctor number 3534321 says to sleep and exercise regularly. Well I learn that every month from lady magazines.

Ethel: Plus Vogue tell us about all the clothes we can’t afford.

Lucy: Yes! Fail, GOOP. Fail. POOP says sex is way more important than sleep, and that it also qualifies as exercise!

Ethel: POOP is pro-sex!

Lucy: Next, Doctor 234.5 says that everything everywhere will kill us because it’s toxic, so to not eat for twelve hours after dinner to detoxify.

Ethel: “Detoxify” to me means “Drink More Liquor”.

Lucy: Well liquor is cleansing.

Ethel: POOP says drink for twelve hours and then you’ll really clean yourself out! Plus, you need to drink to forget that everything everywhere is killing you.

Lucy: Win! We’re also not supposed to eat anything in a package.

Ethel: But Jeno’s Pizza Rolls come in a package, and I’m pretty sure those are the best food ever.

Lucy: Indeed. There seems to be a flaw in her reasoning.

Ethel: Gwyneth would not approve of the stew I am making. The meat is not organic. The mushrooms are from the bottom of my fridge and they were probably sorta bad as of yesterday. And the potatoes are white! And white foods are of the devil!

Lucy: Nay, I say! NAY! Potatoes give us chips, and potato skins with cheese, and BAKED potatoes! GOOP hates whitey, but POOP says all the food colors are beautiful, especially covered in cheese!

Ethel: I have my own method of detoxifying.

Lucy: Do tell!

Ethel: Have some tea, do a yoga pose or two maybe, and then go masturbate. You’ll feel better in no time!

Lucy: GOOP says follow a complicated menu; POOP says masturbate!

Ethel: I think our methodology is much more fun.

Lucy: Plus, POOP is fun to say. Hey – maybe she named this stupid website GOOP because it describes all the nasty shit that comes out of you when you follow her directions?

Ethel: But where does it come out?

Lucy: I don’t want to know. Let’s go drink wine.

Ethel: Poop yeah!

I'm Hairy Noon and Night; Hair That's a Fright.

DEAR ABBY: Is there a rule of etiquette regarding how men should wear long hair? My boyfriend's hair isn't long enough to pull into a ponytail, but it's long enough that he is constantly sweeping or shaking it out of his eyes. If we were to go to a funeral or similar ceremonial (or formal) event, what should he do? I need some input. -- HAIR-RAISING QUESTION

Dear Hair Which Has Been Raised:

Boy, Abby is on FIRE this week. She recommended hair gel to you. Yum! Long, nasty hair gelled back into a… something… we don’t know. She just said to gel his hair. Is it 1987 where Abby lives? Judging by her picture, we think so.

We’re confused – it’s not that long if it can’t be put in a ponytail, yet he’s luxuriously shaking it out of his eyes. Is it some kind of horrible Jonas Brothers monstrosity?

OK, the curly Jonasseses aren’t that bad, but the straight hair one is, like, vom. But it looks like you can ponytail that crap. So, we’re just babbling confusedly really.

Maybe it’s an uggo Zac Efron thing? Douche-tastic!

If so, we’re sorry, but it cannot be saved without a cut. Many of the younguns like these new gorpy haircuts, but we are anti-gorp here at BHBs. The Harry Potter movie where all the boys sported that crappy floppy hair was a total bonerkiller. We recommend either a haircut or a commitment to grow the hair longer so he can be a ponytail guy. Ugh – kids today. Get off our lawn!

An "Alf" Shirt Would be Perfect...

DEAR ABBY: How do you tell friends and family that you're not interested in being fixed up? I'm a male, in my mid-40s, happily divorced for many years and have no desire to remarry.

I raised my children on my own, have a good job and many friends, but no desire to get into a relationship that could lead to more of a commitment than I am willing to make.

My life is good, but I'm constantly bombarded with questions like, "When are you going to get married again?" or, "Why don't you let me fix you up? I have the perfect woman for you." I don't know how to respond to this constant badgering. Please advise. -- THANKS BUT NO THANKS IN OHIO

Dear Too Popular For Own Good:
We have to laugh at the advice our dearest Abby gave you. Namely, to have a t-shirt made up with the slogan “Been There, Done That” on it. Ha! She was probably kidding, but we’re making fun of her so we don’t care. Actually, it’s a great idea, because who wants an aging asshole wearing a t-shirt with a hot 80s catchphrase on it? That tee is a great way to scare off the women. May we also suggest a “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” shirt and one with Urkel on it.

Oh noes! You are a straight, single guy in your 40s and all women are desperate to get married so they all want you. Ha! Just kidding. You’re probably reasonably good-looking, or no one would try to set you up with their friends. Can you really blame your nosy, irritating hangers-on for trying to hook you up? The dating pool is dismal, especially the older you get. But you’re having fun, cheap one night stands with drunken 22 year olds and you can’t give that up for a relationship. We understand.

Tell your friends to bugger off. Man up already and tell them how you feel. This isn’t a tough conversation*. You could tell them you have the scabies or something so they don’t want their women friends to touch you, but that’s extreme. Jebus, call us when you have a real problem, whiny.

*Now, telling all your nosy, irritating hangers-on that you’re a woman trapped in the body of a man who yearns to be free – that’s a tough conversation.

The One in Which We Adopt Made-Up Internet Words

Dear AskJohnQ.com:
ok what does it mean when a friend is sometimsey ? you know like when sometimes they you like sometimes they seem like they dont ?? I work with a friend that is like this . sometimes when I say hi she is all jolly and then there are those times she is like whatever I mean she says hi but she just different acting . sometimes lunch breaks she says hey go to lunch with me talk with me some days she just looks real crabby . I only go to lunch when she ask me wich is cool since I like being alone on lunch breaks anyway . really the lunch thing is fine I would rather be alone on lunch but I am not mean about it . then there was the time she begged me to go to the club with her I didnt wanna go but went anyway . when i called to meet up with her for going clubbing she acted like she didnt want me to go . why did she beg and force me to go then when I do go she acted like she didnt want me to go ?? well at first it was just gonna be me and her meeting another girl and she didnt wanna go alone and then her sister and cousin decided to go . so was it that she found other people and didnt need me to go ?? maybe she just wanted to use me ?? she is like this alot !! do you think she uses me ??

Dear Captain Grammar:
OK, we are totally adapting “sometimsey” as our new favorite word. That’s pretty much the only reason we picked out this question. Sometimsey we are like that.

Your co-worker only wants to hang out with you when there is no one better to hang out with. Sad, tough to hear, but true. We BHBs have both been there before, even though it might be tough for our adoring public to reconcile such, as we are so insanely awesome. But it’s true, and it hurts until you stop letting it hurt you.

You can either continue to hang out with Sometimsey and choose to not be offended when she snubs you, or you can drop her like Dorothy dropped Stan Zbornak after he screwed that flight attendant. Either way, this person is not really worth your time or consternation. Find a better, truer friend yourself and have fun good times with them. We all deserve better than a sometimsey. We all deserve a friend who is alwaysey. Except for Osama Bin Laden. Really, fuck him.

*Sigh* Insert Clever Title About an Asshole Here

DEAR ABBY: "Robert" and I have been married seven years and have two sons, ages 1 and 3. Something is bothering me that didn't before -- Robert's driving. My husband speeds, tailgates, honks his horn to make others go faster and uses racial epithets. If I say anything to him, he accuses me of not trusting him or says I'm looking for something to complain about.

I am concerned for our safety and the impact Robert's behavior has on our sons, not to mention my worry about road rage. If either of our mothers drove with us they would cringe. What can I do? -- ROAD BULLY'S WIFE IN SAN FRANCISCO

Dear I’m Glad You and Your Husband Don’t Live in My City:

We think we may have flicked off your asshole husband at one point or another! The quick but not so easy solution is to stop riding in the car while he drives, or allowing your sons to do so. Immediately. Now, your husband obviously has multiple issues – he’s an angry racist twat for starters. This will cause mucho bad blood we’re sure. But what’s more important, keeping Mr. Rage Pants mollified or your safety? It’s a no-brainer.

Once you make good on your threat to never drive with him, calmly explain to him that you are afraid for your collective safety. Google some accident statistics and show him why speed and tailgating lead to tragedy. Nowadays, even honking at the wrong person could get you shot. Does he get this angry off the road as well? He may need professional help. If he resists changing, then consider that his fits of childish piss and vinegar are more important to him than you are.

As for the racist insults, well, perhaps you want to have a long conversation with yourself about the guy you married and the kind of sons you want to raise.

Viva La Burrito!

No More Apologies.

Women apologize for many, many things they should not, but my rant today is about apologizing for food.

It seems a cake cannot emerge from it’s frothy pink box without some woman at the table beginning the ritual.

“Oh, that’s so baaaaaad!”

“I shouldn’t”

“I’ll have to work out so hard after!”

“It’s evil!”

On and on, ad infinitum. Usually every female at the table will say one of the above, if only to prove to all the other women in the room that she’s sufficiently body dysmorphic enough to be in The Shame Club.

The Shame Club, the Club people like Perez Hilton have convinced us we should be in, because we dared to be female, dared to turn 19 and still be alive, dared to have cellulite, and dared to not vomit today.

You know what’s terrible? I have some suggestions, and funnily enough, cake isn’t on the list!

“Oh, that’s so baaaaaad!” – BAD is Hillary Clinton’s thighs being discussed instead of her policies.

“I shouldn’t” – I SHOULD’T perpetrate girl on girl hate crime by bashing any woman’s looks and discussing them as if they were the end all be all of her personhood.

“I’ll have to work out so hard after!” – I’LL HAVE TO really think about the fact that today is the 89^th anniversary of the 19^th amendment.

“It’s evil!” – EVIL things are honor killings, cancer and racism.

NOT CAKE!

Say it with me: I will not make a negative commentary about anything I eat. If it’s so deplorable, I will not eat it. The end.

~Lucy

A Quiz: Whither Cramps? Or, How to Get Laid

Dear Mens:

We Brutally Honest Babes wish more sexing for the world. First, we think there would be less war, anger, terrorism, etc. if the world had more (carnal) love, sweet love. After all, if the jihadists who do terrible deeds just had their virgins in the first place, there would be no need to strap on dynamite jackets. Second, sexing is fun.

Mens, take our short quiz and learn.

Your woman says, “Ouch! Dear me, I seem to be experiencing beautiful natural cramping as a result of my feminine cycle. My lady flower is indeed wonderful, but sometimes ouchey, alas.” [May also be heard as, “Fuck me and fuck my fucking ovaries fuck!! Die die die!!”]

You:

A: Grimace at the word “cramps”

B: Say in reply, “Ugh – you’re not getting your period again, are you? Guess I’ll beat off to porn.”

C: Both A and B

D: Grab your woman a vicodin, a glass of wine, a hot water bottle and put “Atonement” on the DVD, remarking how Keira Knightley is too skinny, but how dreamy James McAvoy is and how he is a lesson in sensitive yet strong manliness.

If you answered A or B, I’m sure you enjoyed your evening on the couch.

If you answered C, stick a fork in you, you’re done.

If you answered D, you may not get sexing when your lady is all sore boobs and cramps, but as soon as she’s out of that, raise the mast, you’re off to plunder the depths! (And by “plunder the depths” we mean “get laid”. It’s just a nicer way of saying same. And more piratey.)

See, you might think that cramps are some kind of personal inconvenience to you, a ticket to bitchytown as it were. And as true as the whole bitchytown thing is, it’s not really about you. Shocking we know. Your lady is in genuine pain, and your reaction should be one of sympathy. Now, crotch bleeding does not give your lady a blank check to stab you with a spoon or anything, but give her a small break, OK? She’s bleeding out the crotch.

Think of cramps as an opportunity to build good will! And goodwill leads to sexing.

April's Fool

Dear Abby: When a person cooks a meal, isn't it also his or her responsibility to do the dishes when the meal is finished? If not, then who should? I think the cook should be responsible. – Boiling Over in St. Louis

Dear Will Not Work for Food:
You must be the recipient of the food, because we can’t believe the cook would write this.

We totally agree with you. They slaved over a hot stove to cook, and their responsibility does not end there. They should dab your face with your napkin as you eat, perhaps even cut your food into bite-size-pieces. After they are finished with the dishes, they should join you in the loo, so that they may easily wipe your ass as you divest yourself of the food they generously prepared. If any bits spilled on your clothes from out your slack-jawed mouth, the cook should immediately skip to the creek so they may wash them and beat them on a fucking rock as they sing “Old Man River”. Why should their job stop at cooking? It’s madness. If they are not burping you after the meal, they are hateful and you should go eat at some other person’s house. Not ours.

* Edited to add: Lucy wrote the above. Ethel pointed out that at a fancy dinner party, the guests should not do the dishes. Lucy totally agrees, but took the tone of the letter as more of a friend at friend's house kind of thing, as Boiling Over didn't say "dinner party". If it's a friends or family kind of thing, we agreed that at least offering to help with the clean-up is the right thing to do. That is all.

This is Why People Love Tivo

Dear Abby: My husband gets aggravated with romantic commercials on television -- the ones where men do sweet things for their wives, like putting jewelry on them while they sleep, or pulling out that special gift at the dinner table. He says the commercials try to make men feel guilty because they aren't like the ones portrayed.

I have tried telling him that men are, indeed, this way, but I couldn't think of any examples other than my brother and my father, who are very romantic.

There are more than two men who excel at romance, aren't there? Don't most men know how to sweep a woman off her feet?

Dear No Kiss Begins with Kay:
Your man is aggravated because he can’t be like the men in commercials on TV. OK. Yes, he is so very correct to be aggravated at them, because there is no way on Jebus’s green Earth he could ever do nice things for you. It’s impossible to leave a flower by your plate at dinner, or to rub your feet, or to draw you a bath with candles. Those things are like Unicorns and Michael Jackson’s dignity – they don’t exist! They are impossible! We get mad at commercials when they show a sparkling clean floor – our husbands suddenly think that such a thing is attainable and we are in deep shit.

Your husband could learn to do those things for you, but he doesn’t want to. That’s the bottom line. He’d rather get mad at the TV. There are men who try and do nice, romantic things. Do you want one?

LOLLost - I can haz?

So, the BHBs have been up to even more silly than usual (see regular activities such as shitty finger waves in hair, giggling about stupid romance novels starring people named Krondor, and talking about sex ad nauseum.)

We introduce you to a spontaneous contribution to the Universe - LOLLost. It started in the Jezebel commenters section, and is spreading it's benign evil forthwith. If you have no idea to what that refers, then you probably spend more time in life doing, you know, real things in the world that surfing on the internetz, and shame on you. LOLLost is inspired by the stupidness that is LOLCats.

A few of our humble contributions...


So visit the stupidity and make some of your own. You know you want to!

As Long as He Doesn't Look Better Than You Do In Them...

Dear BHB's:
What should I do if I found my boyfriend dancing around in my bra and panties?
Sincerely,
Baffled

Dear Baffled:
Did he look good? If yes, hey – dance with him and get lucky. A lay is a lay.

But seriously (actually, we were), a frank discussion is in order. There are plenty of hetero men who are into the nice, soft feeling of silky underthings against the skin. A little fetish can be exciting! If he’s a great guy, and a keeper, then put aside your gender role stereotypes and take a deep breath. After all, a hundred years ago the mens were horrified at the womens daring to wear pants.

Maybe it’s a deal breaker, but it might not be. A good man is hard to find. And a hard man is good to find. Even in Victoria’s Secret.

Stupid Monster Head

Dear E. Jean:
Back in high school, I had a crush on a senior. I never knew why, but he and his friends tormented me: They started rumors, told their girlfriends horrible lies so they'd want to beat me up, and just made my life as miserable as possible.

Since then, I graduated from college in three years, now work for a top fashion website as an editor, travel, and look damn good. All in all, I'm A-OK and lead a pretty fabulous life. And what are those cool, popular guys up to now? They're either in jail, rehab for drug abuse, or trying to make it as white rappers.

So wouldn't you know…after seven years of no contact, many of them have found me on social-networking sites and have contacted me! One in particular keeps telling me how beautiful I am and asks me out repeatedly. I've been polite, but in no way have I encouraged conversation. Yet he's persisting! I find him revolting, but I feel guilty not responding because his life is so crappy now. How do I nicely convey that I don't want anything to do with him? Or—shudder at the thought!—am I being a jerk for holding a grudge for so long?
Tables Have Turned

Dear Being Nice is For Loser Non-Fabulous People:
Fuck. Him.

Now is not the time for mamby-pamby “please leave me alone” business!

You have two choices. You can either begin to ensnare him a web vengeful lies, leading him on and in a series of coyly suspenseful and Hitchcock-esque dates until he confesses his undying love and you dash his hopes upon the rocks of despair at your high school reunion in front of all his asshole friends with a bucket of PIG’S BLOOD!!!!

*or*

Turn your bad experiences into a best-selling chick-lit book, which in turn will be made into a romantic comedy starring Amy Adams as you and James McAvoy as the nerdy yet sexy boy who secretly loves you from afar. Ok so maybe you didn’t actually have a nerdy yet sexy boy who secretly loved you from afar, but it’s your damn book/ movie. OK, and those people are totally too old to play high schoolers, but we’re tired of seeing anorexic interchangeable teenagers star in shitty high school movies.

What were we talking about?

Oh, yes. Forget high school jerk! Don’t reply to asshat anymore and go be fabulous!

PS - White rappers?

PPS - This blog is titled "Stupid Monster Head" at Lucy's husband's request. No, she doesn't know why. Maybe he just likes Monster Heads. No he doesn't - they're stupid.

Anything You Can do to Draw Attention to Your Mouth is Good

Dear AskJohnQ.com:
i have known this man for six years and there is no doubt there is some kind of attraction between us. i think of him all the time. how can i make myself irresistable to him [sic entire question, geez]

Dear It’s Called Punctuation:
Six Years? Are you stuck in a Jane Austin novel? Oh, goodie! Let’s see… you are poor, but pretty enough and have amazing spirit! He is rich and looks wonderful wet, a la Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy. Despair not, sooner or later some improbable confusion will be thrust upon you, and then lifted, as you both discover your unending love!

If you are not actually stuck in an Austen novel, then… six years? Impetuous he is not. We hate to be nay-sayers, but maybe this mutual attraction in is not quite as mutual as you thought.

But for spits and giggles, let’s say there is a torrent of lust in his heart for you. Take a page from the book of Cher from Clueless (a ripping good movie and yet another Austen tale. Is there anything that woman can’t teach us?) Suddenly have some other man. The BHBs thoroughly believe that men want what they cannot have, and they enjoy chasing same. Date someone else casually, and be sure to mention it all the time around Mr. Reckless. Or, do as Cher did and send flowers to yourself, dress sexy and make someone up. Hey, she ended up with her step-brother in the end! That’s… something.

If he still doesn’t come around, then maybe your new casual man could be your torrent of lust. After six years, it sounds like you could really use a torrent of lust.

Mmmmmmm… torrent of lust.

We're Sorry Sweetie - Here's a Wipe.

Dear TheAnswerMan.com:
My boyfriend told me that he thinks he is becoming more mature because before he used to want a good looking girlfriend but now that is not so important to him. Personality is more important for him now. Then he told me I wasn't so good looking - about 6 or 7 out of 10. But he said he really likes my personality. How should I feel?

Dear 7 of 10:
We think you should feel depressed about dating a douchebag.

Let us elaborate. Yes, it is more mature to judge an entire person rather than just by a pretty face or nice pair of tits. Announcing it, however, is douchey. We’re sorry you got covered in his nasty, sticky self-congratulatory goo. Don’t just sit there with it all over your face! Here's a towel.

There are few perfect 10s in the world, and even they are completely in the eye of the beholder! Lucy likes Manly Men and Ethel likes Pretty Boys, and who is to say which is wrong or right? Your boy thinks you are a 6 or 7. Another might think you are a 9. The more you get to know and love someone, their out-of-10 points go up accordingly.

It’s up to you whether or not you want to stick with Mister Mature. From our end, it sounds like his personality points are headed South fast. Feel proud that you have that great personality (because it is more important), and think about whether you want a boy who rates you a "6 or 7" and clinically spews goo on you wrapped in a faux compliment. We are anti-goo.

The Keywords to Our Hearts

Dear Readers:

Thanks for reading the Brutally Honest Babes! We give you mucho mucho love on this V-day!

We also have love for our keywords – random searches put into the internets which somehow lead readers to us (or page hits at least). (* Shout-out to Bonnie Gillespie, who first showed her readers the fun search phrases which lead to her site. We’re totally stealing your idea, but at least we said thanks!)

Top Keyword Searches Leading to Brutally Honest Babes:

1. Slutty Gowns
HA! This entry inspired us to write this post. Dare we hope several young women who typed this into the Googles might read our post against slutty gowns and decide to search for “Classy Gowns” instead? Dare… Dare!

2. Wife Eater
We can only hope this is some fun allusion to oral sex, in which we are thoroughly in-favor, as opposed to some nasty “I ate her kidney with some fava beans and a nice chianti” search.

3. Babes in Leggings
This is an oxymoron, as no one is a babe in leggings.

4. Honest Babes
The only true babes are honest ones, wethinks.

5. Brutally Honest Babes
You know our name! Squee!

6. Mr. Irresistible Erotic Story
Um… we wanna know what page they were hoping for, so we can go there, too.

7. Babes.be\
Hmmm.

8. Sexy Honest Babes
Oh, stop! You’re making us blush!

9. Fugly Prom Dresses
Perhaps some fashion student writing a “How to Get Bai Ling to Buy Your Dress” paper?

10. Babes Look
Another Hmmm. Kinda a crappy one on which to end.

We’ll add a bonus, just to end on a fun note.

Bonus: “lucy a lot like ethel but without the camel toe”

If that doesn’t make you smile, there’s something wrong with you.

One Fish, Two Fish, Raw Fish, Ew, Fish!

Dear BHBs:
I hate fish. I have been invited to a chic private party catered by a fairly well known Sushi chef. Other than rice and dessert, I don’t know what I’m going to eat; or how to make it look like I am enjoying the Sushi without being rude by barfing accidentally into a potted plant. I have to attend this party. My job depends on it. I also have to look moderately cool, because all the cool people eat Sushi.

Dear Crabby Roll:
This is clearly a case of fake it to make it. If it’s a sit-down dinner party, we think you are in deep doo-doo, because there is little chance you can not eat. In that event, you either need to put on your big-girl panties and suck it (i.e. the fish) up or boldly state your new-found vegetarianism to weasel out. But then you have to be a veggie in public forever. Your choice.

If it’s more of a mingling thing, try this strategy:

1. Eat before you get there, so you are not starving.

2. Take a cocktail early, and hang onto it or one like it all night so you have something in your hands.

3. Take a piece of sushi occasionally (always a piece of Nigiri-sushi, slices of fish on pads of rice), but talk a lot so you can just hold it attractively.

4. When you must eat so as to not appear weird, put the food (on a napkin) up to your mouth and eat only the rice while rolling the fish surreptitiously in the napkin. Dump the napkin at the first opportunity.

5. If they have California rolls (i.e. rolls with veggies or cooked fish), eat those often.

You should be able to make it through the night this way. If you wear a smashing dress with lots of cleavage, perhaps this can distract onlookers.

Do not barf in a plant. Do it in the bathroom after dinner like all the other cool girls.