8 Signs That You’re Perma-Single

 

 

I’m not here to make you sad.

I’m here to depress the shit out of you.

If you’re single, that is.

Sorry, that came out wrong.

I’m alerting you to the signs. Eight signs, to be exact. Eight signs that you might be perma-single. I’m not doing this to stab a knife in your chest and twist it until you cry. I’m here to give you some tough lovin’.

And if you feel like this:

THEN GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ZONE. 

But seriously, these signs are all based on my personal experience, so you have nothing to be ashamed of. If any of these 8 characteristics resonates with you, then just work on maybe stopping that behaviour in favour of a more sexually attractive one.

Unless you’re confident in it, in which case:

So, let’s begin this descent into misery, shall we?

1) You dance like you’re having an epileptic fit.

This. This is only attractive to fetishists.

While I totally support your feeling the music and doin’ yo thang, this does not generally attract the opposite sex.

I know this.

I have lived it.

2) You watched Pride & Prejudice as a pre-puscent kid, and now nothing will compare to Mr. Darcy.

 

Not the fuckin’ Keira Knightly version. The BBC miniseries featuring GOD OF THE CINEMA, Colin Firth.

SHIVERS.

NO ONE CAN EVER COMPARE NOW.

THANKS COLIN FIRTH.

THANKS FOR RUINING EVERYTHING.

Or, you know, if you’re a guy…

I don’t know, but I assume something to do with Scarlett Johansson.

And her jigglin’ boobays.

3) You’re a Twi-hard.

THIS:

THIS IS STUPID.

This is the one thing I have no experience in. I read the books. I saw the movies.

I don’t see the appeal.

C’mon girls, we all know that Brad Pitt from Interview with the Vampire is a much more attractive vampire.

I’m here for you, Brad.

And this is why I’m single.

 

4) You run around kissing people like you’re a biological terrorist intent on spreading mono around the world.

Specifically, when you’re drunk.

TAKE IT. TAKE IT AND LIKE IT.

This does not promote healthy relationships. This leads to spinsterhood, ladies.

And boys, don’t do this either.

Especially if you look like this:

This screams “STD”

5) You find a lot of uncanny resemblances between yourself and Bridget Jones.

Like this:

And this:

And unfortunately this:

Or, if you’re a guy, you relate oddly well to Seth and Evan from Superbad.

It’s like looking into a mirror, isn’t it?

Don’t fret, little ones. Change is always possible.

I, too, have felt like a Bridget. And sometimes like a Seth.

But these behaviours can be changed. If you just belieeeeeeeeeve.

And also try really hard.

6) You have Foodgasms. A lot.

Ohmygod. Get inside me. Now.

Inside my stomach, that is.

If you believe that food > relationships, it follows that you=single.

7) You don’t like being touched.

Every time someone comes in for a hug, you’re like:

And God forbid they try and cuddle.

Otherwise, you go all 300 on their asses.

GET OUT MY PERSONAL BUBBLE

8) You’re drunk while you’re reading this.

…Or, in my case, while I’m writing this.

Left: You. Right: Me.

Because you are sexy, you beautiful m****f*****s, and just because you’re perma-single doesn’t mean that you’re de-valued.

It just means that you’re lonely.

And that’s okay.

And according to this random guy who posted this random picture on the interwebs, you shouldn’t fall in love till you’re good and ready:

Thanks, random Post-it Note Guy!

So chill out, whatcha yellin’ for.

Lay back, it’s what being single’s for.

(not in a sexual way, but in a relaxation way)

Don’t worry about being single- because no one’s single forever.

Unless you’re this guy:

YOU know what he’s doing…

 

 

LET US ALL EAT CAKE

It has come to my attention recently (read: 9 years ago) that eating a lot of food is deemed “unladylike” and “something- that- will -make -you -really- fat -until -you- have- to- roll- yourself- down- the- stairs -because -you’re -too- stubborn- to- buy- a -membership- to- Weight- Watchers- and- you’ll -have- to -get- gastric -bypass -surgery- which- is- really- gross-and-I-assume-painful.”

Well, I am here to tell you that society is playing a fucked up little game, my friends.

As a human being with a working digestive system, I happen to really enjoy eating food. As a single woman-girl-thing, it’s one of the greatest joys of my life.

And I am not ashamed.

A regular day’s thoughts generally consist of:

Oh god yes, don’t stop

However, there are millions (MILLIONS, I SAY) of people out there who will convince you that being anything bigger than a size 2 is a Crime Worthy of Death by Breast Implant Explosion.

This is what I like to call: NOT GOOD.

How come curvaceousness has gone out of style?

Remember the Renaissance?

Fat ladies were the HOTTEST.

Cellulite is SEXAY. 

And you know why? (You probably do, but imma tell you anyways). Because fat was a sign of WEALTH.

Renaissance men would be walking around in their pantaloons and breeches and whatnot and spot a nice chubby lady and say:

“Holy Harpies, Georg! Look at the dingleboppers on that one! I’d like to take her into the baker’s and butter her up, if you know what I mean.”

And then I assume they would high-five.

Now, all the richest biddies with their daddy’s plastic are tiny anorexic Oompa Loompas that haven’t eaten in days because “I’m on a juice cleanse.”

BOW IN THE PRESENCE OF ROYALTY

This. This is what it has come to.

And I don’t blame those girls. Really, I don’t. Unfortunately, girls are under a lot of pressure to look a certain way these days. But instead of this “certain way” being “round and proud”, the fashion is now to look like a stick insect.

“Damn girl, you look GOOOOOOOD.”

The media, with all its photoshopping technology and mind-control powers has convinced girls that the skinner, the better.

Check dis out, mon:

Kim Kardashian, who’s famous for being curvy, (and really nothing else) gets photoshopped like HELL.

If the girl who’s JUST FAMOUS FOR BEING BIGGER THAN OTHER STARS can’t get away with looking human, then who can?

It’s terrible what media has done to the minds of girls. All I can say is, thank God for Jennifer Lawrence.

TWINS.

Hopefully more stars like her will appear to show girls that eating a slice of pizza every once in a while isn’t something to feel guilty about.

I actually cringe when people I know tell me: “I’m really regretting that Oreo Mini I ate… It’s going straight to my butt!”

Well. I have something to tell you.

I like big butts. And I cannot lie. 

But seriously, everyone, food is the BEST THING EVER.

Whichever primate ancestor first picked up a berry and went: “THIS IS THE SHIT!”

Hats off to you, sir. Hats off.

Just think about it. Every occasion is a perfect occasion for eating.

1) Breakup:

2) Out with Friends:

3) Studying:

4) While pre-gaming:

5) After pre-gaming

6) Avoiding social interaction:

AND THOSE ARE JUST A FEW SITUATIONS IN WHICH FOOD IS THE BEST OPTION.

I didn’t even get to funerals, weddings, bridal showers, baby showers, prison openings, every time you watch Love Actually, and The Mandarin.

So, you see, I love food. A lot. If I could marry a block of aged cheddar, I would. That shit is fantastic.

To all you people out there, we need to bring back the love of food that once existed in ages past. When it was okay to eat an entire wheel of cheese and no one batted an eye.

Thank you, Ron Burgundy. I know.

Bring back the days of cheese wheeling.

FOR THE LOVE OF HONEY BOO BOO’S MOM, BRING THEM BACK.

All I’m trying to say is, don’t take the media too seriously. And don’t feel guilty if your Saturday doesn’t include a salad but includes lots of Vodka Redbulls and pizza. You have to do what you want!

And if what you want isn’t food, then I cordially invite you to the first ever meeting of the Go Fuck Yourself Club of which you have just been appointed president.

I’ll be over here, revelling in my gluttony.

That’s right.

So: screw you, society. Imma eat carbohydrates if I want to.

Because, DAYUMMMM, if they aren’t they delicious.

And you know what? I don’t care. And hopefully there are other people out there who are as careless as I am. But in a good way. I hope you still exercise to, you know, keep your cardio up and your muscles all bulgy-like, but I also hope that when you see that piece of cake, you don’t hesitate.

You fuckin’ grab for it. No questions asked.

Because in the words of one of Hollywood’s most beaudacious babes:

So every time you want that doughnut or that slice of pizza, just say: “Fuck you, society, you ugly m****f****! I’m SEXY!” 

And enjoy.

HEAR ME OUT: Valentine’s Day is the Best Day of the Year

 

Unless you’re a Jehovah’s Witness, (which I completely respect, but I’m really sad that you don’t get birthdays because they’re the best and everyone treats you like a supreme War Lord), you know that Valentine’s Day is around the corner.

And by around the corner, I mean in about T-3 hours from the time I’m writing this.

But you know what?

I’m excited.

Because Valentine’s Day is the best day of the year.

NOW DON’T CLICK AWAY. I SEE YOU, YOU BITTER LITTLE BASTARD.

“She doesn’t know anything, I’m single, Valentine’s Day is 24 hours of reminders of my sexual inactivityyyyyyy!”

Cry me a river.

FUN FACT: I’M SINGLE, TOO.

So listen up, my pets, as I explain to you why February 14th is the fuckin’ bomb.

Now, all you dopes in relationships don’t get to say that this is the best day of the year. Because you have other days where you can be all lovey-dovey, like anniversaries of the first time you farted in front of each other or something. I dunno what you people do.

And on Valentine’s Day, you know exactly what to expect:

Or, if you don’t live in a Nicholas Sparks movie, this:

Cue the Marvin Gaye music.

 

Couples: You might think that you have an awesome day. You might think that for the two of you, in your hazy love nest of sexual healing, it don’t get much better than February Fuckin’ Fourteenth.

You, my fair Kims and Kanyes, are flat fucking wrong.

 

Us single people have got it SO much better.

For instance, Valentine’s Day is the one day a year where I can buy five pounds of chocolate from the Shopper’s Drugmart without the cashier asking me: “Do you want Tampax with that?” 

Fuck you, Judgmental Cashier Lady, I’m not “riding the crimson wave”, I’m just SAD AND LONELY.

But it’s okay to be sad and lonely on Valentine’s Day. THAT’S THE POINT.

So no one asks you why you’re buying enough chocolate and candy to stock a bomb shelter for six months. They just give you a knowing look that says:
“Honey, I getchu. Do what you need to do.”

And they leave you in peace.

Bliss.

But wait- it gets better!

Valentine’s Day is the only day of the year on which a single person, such as myself and probably 90% of people reading this blog, can march into a restaurant at 11am and demand alcohol.

The last time I tried to do this was on a nameless day in January, and the waitress responded with a: “Starting early, are we?” And a smirk. A goddamn smirk. Grins I can abide, even laughter I can tolerate, but a fucking smirk? A smirk means she’s laughing at you ON THE INSIDE.

YOU ARE NOT EVEN WORTH LAUGHING AT OUT LOUD.

DON’T YOU JUST WANT TO PUNCH SOMETHING?

 

But on Valentine’s Day, no one smirks at you, nononono.

They bring you alcohol. They smile at you as if to say: “You poor lonely soul, drinking alone on Valentine’s Day.” They comfort you. They might even tell you the drink’s on the house.

Awww, thanks house!

But in all seriousness, Valentine’s Day rules.

I can get day-drunk simply because I don’t have a boyfriend. On any other day, people would call you a whiny bitch. Or an alcoholic. But on V-Day, it’s just doing what you’re s’posed ta. 

A lot of my single friends will also treat themselves to stuff a boyfriend/girlfriend would never ever EVER buy them.

Every Valentine’s Day, at least one of my single friends will come up to me and say: “I just felt so bad about being alone today, so I went shopping and bought this $400 outfit from Mendocino, and then I had to go to Victoria’s Secret, because what if I do get a boyfriend, I mean, I don’t want him to see me in granny panties, you know? ”

First of all, I understand about the granny panties- that shit could be embarrassing. And saggy.

But the main point is, you think your boyfriend (slash girlfriend) would spent four hundred dollars on an outfit for you, just because it’s a Hallmark Holiday?? 

AGAIN: REAL LIFE DOES NOT EQUAL A NICHOLAS SPARKS MOVIE. 

No. No he would not. You are a much better boyfriend (or girlfriend) to yourself than anyone ever could be.

And Valentine’s Day gives you the perfect excuse to pamper yourself like the perfect boyfriend/girlfriend would!

If this is news to you, then get your head of your ass, and realize that real people are not as thoughtful as fictional characters.

But you know who is? You areTo yourself.

So PAMPER YOURSELF. BECAUSE YOU CAN.

And bitch. Bitch up a storm.

Because V-Day, once again, is the ONLY DAY OF THE YEAR that allows for this.

You and your friends can bitch about being single for hours. Literally. And no one will judge you. Because it’s sad to be alone on Valentine’s Day.

This is totally acceptable.

And all your friends can sit in a lil’ old circle like in kindergarten and talk about how one day you’ll get married in a mothafuckin’ castle, and you’ll leave on a mothafuckin’ horse, and it’ll be with the Old Spice Guy, because he’s the best mothafucka around, and you’ll drink mimosas and fondle each other in the Caribbean.

even his abs are smiling at me

And no one will tell you otherwise. No one will say: “That’s completely stupid and dumb and you should go drown yourself in a pool of cat urine and you’re going to end up alone if you maintain such high expectations.”

They’ll say: “If that’s what you want, girl, you should go for it. Dream big, and it’ll happen. I know it will. And you know why? Because you’re a nice person.

They’ll probably be drunk.

So if you’re feeling the Valentine’s Day Blues this year, stop it you stupid, horny jerk. 

Because V-Day is the most wonderful time of the year!

I know that my Valentine’s Day will probably end up like this:

And I’m totally alright with that. Because it’s going to be a fucking awesome day where I can drink and wallow in self-pity and bitch about men with my friends.

I can also treat myself to a little cheese, even though I’m lactose intolerant 😉

BAD. ASS.

Because that’s what Valentine’s Day is all about when you’re single.

Treating yourself. (Even if it causes stomach pains.)

Trust me, one day you’ll experience a Valentine’s Day filled to the brim with awkward sexual encounters and professions of everlasting love. But until then, some words of advice:

 

Don’t feel guilty about feeling lonely and shit on Valentine’s Day- embrace it.

Love it tenderly. 

Love it to the sensual melody of Marvin Gaye’s Let’s Get it On

Because at the end of the day, you won’t be lonely forever. So this is the one time in your life when you can be completely self-absorbed and not give a shit about other people (unless you want to give a shit, in which case, shit away, sir).

Now, for the male counterparts in the couplings out there, some words of advice from one Tenacious D:

 

For all us single people out there- HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY. Happy drunken bitching, cheese-eating, shopping-spreeing, exploitation-of-loneliness day to you all! 

And a Happy New Year!