Wednesday, January 10, 2018

Advice Column: Those Who Can't Do, Teach

What's up GG? I've been wanting to write in for a long time, but never had a good enough question for you. Now I do. 

I have a friend (let's call him "Dave") who is turning 26 years old has decided he wants to be a life coach. My issue isn't his goal to be a life coach. Let me list some stats about this guy to make my point...

He's got no college education (not always a bad thing), jumps from job to job, always tries those get rich quick things, has two kids by two baby mamas (one of them is on its way), has no trust in his girlfriend (the 2nd baby mama), and is faking like he's a baller when he can barely pay his bills. 

How can you possibly coach anyone when you can't even run your own life? I've considered just hiding everything from this guy on Facebook, but part of me wants to ask him what he is going to "coach" people on. Maybe I shouldn't. 

What would you do if you were me?

Torn in Texas

Dear Torn in Texas,

Happy New Year!

Can I tell you how happy I am you wrote in? I was JUST telling my homegirl, H-Bomb, that I was looking for someone, anyone, to write in with something so good that I would bring more thunder to start 2018 off right. And you my friend, did just that.

You know what 93.47959% of people like me hate? Motherfuckers that you just described above. Especially young motherfuckers who think they know, but have no fucking idea. Truth.

I'm gonna be the ripe age of 39 this year. I barely have a hold of my fucking life. Sure I have a good job. Pay my bills on time. Use a condom whenever the girl I'm about to bang seems a little suspect and may have enjoyed one too many gang bangs for my liking. But NEVER, have I ever thought I would change peoples lives by doing shit that will probably ruin them forever.

Your boy, bottom line, is a fucking idiot. That is not a misprint, people. He's fucking stupid and should go fuck him and the horse he rode in on.

No college degree, kids from two different women, no stable job, can barely pay his own fucking bills and this motherfucker is trying to be a life coach?!


How would someone with all that shit I just mentioned, think for an inkling of a second that they could be a goddamn life coach? Hey man, good on you that you want to aspire to become something positive for people. But if you don't even have your own shit together, HOW IN GODLY FUCK, DO YOU THINK YOU'RE CAPABLE OF COACHING ANYONE'S LIFE.

Dude can barely pay his bills. How the fuck is he gonna be able to even pay attention?!

And what on God's green earth is this clown actually gonna "coach" people on? How to slash your girlfriend's tires when she done fucked up bc she sucked your homeboy's dick? How to get another month of cable without paying your bill on time? How to get rich without even knowing how to get fucking rich? C'mon, bruh. This cat needs to go build a bridge and get the fuck over himself. Like, immediately.

It's these types of people who make me scratch my head and wonder if I'm missing something or have a fucking screw loose. What's even more fucked up is that this dude is 26. Who would actually listen to this motherfucker? Like, for reals...who would pay good money to listen to some millennial whose life is worse than the average person, feel good about their advice, walk out of their session and be ready to go and grab life by the horns? Not me. No fucking sir.

Look, just bc you have a good idea, post some inspirational shit on social networks doesn't mean that you know anything. I know it. You know it. And the people reading this shit know it. We all know people like this. And you know what? All that shit is just a fucking front.

It's like, "Hey look at me. Look at what I'm doing. My life is so great. I hustle. I do this. I do that. I'm bout it, bout it."


The reality is what you pointed out - dude can't hold a job. Thinks he can make a million bucks overnight. Has no trust in a relationship...even though his dumbass is having a kid with the person he's with. I could go on and on with these types of fucks.

It's not hard to see right through these motherfuckers. It really isn't. Don't believe me, just watch how they are on social networking then hang with them in real life. All that positive shit they spit, ain't none of that happening when they are drunk and calling their girl a fucking cunt at a bar at 11pm. Or when they bitch about how life sucks and they pull the whole, "Poor me...I'm so lost and confused."

Fuck off and eat a 20 pound bag of dicks.

You my friend, need to call your homie out. Not out of jealousy. Not out of hate. But out of respect so he doesn't go and ruin other motherfuckers lives. Ain't no one trying to hear some speech that he stole from Gary Vaynerchuk, all while trying to get the credit. Fuck all that noise.

What this guy really needs is his own life coach and a goddamn therapist. Sounds like he's a train wreck about to go postal on the next mishap that enters his fucking life.

Avoid these people at all costs if you can. And if you can't for some reason, be real with them and tell them how it really is...they may not thank you for it, but at least they'll know how fucked up they really are. You're welcome.

Good luck,


Monday, January 8, 2018

New Year, New You, New Fuckboys

Dear GG Fam,

2 years, 3 months, 18 days, and about 6 hours ago I dropped some knowledge on you on the ways of the infamous and sometimes elusive Fuckboy. Lo and behold, some of those Fuckboys actually took time away from being a Full-Time-Fuckboy to read my pearl  necklaces of wisdom and, in the words of Bear Grylls, improvise, adapt, and overcome, so as to find new and fuckier ways to get in your DMs, and then into your pants/heart. However, someone threw up the H-Bomb signal (basically just  👌) and I knew it was time to come out of retirement and lay some truth bombs, in a way that only I, the mystical, scotch-laden goddess of snark can do. Hold on to your butt-plugs, bitches, cus I'm bout to blow your bunghole out with my newest revelations.

It is motherfucking 2018 and yet here we are, still getting played by the following kinds of mark-ass, bitch-ass, dick-hole, motherfuckers. We already know about The Married Man Fuckboy, The Convenience Fuckboy, The Zero Fucks Fuckboy, and last and most certainly least, The Back and Forth Fuckboy... but drumroll please... here are the 2018 Fuckboys.

1) The Girlfriend Experience Fuckboy

This one is ALMOST fucking harmless. Almost. He is the guy that says all the right things when you are together - "I think you are so great," "Tell me about YOUR day," "What do you want to do tonight?" You may even think you are in a relationship with this Rico Suave Motherfucker, because he says things like, "I am not seeing anyone else, just you," or things of that nature. You may even deign to have him meet your friends, talk about him like he is your boyfriend, exchange gifts during holidays, birthdays, etc. Seems like you two are well on the way to Relationshipville, aboard the Pound Town Express! He will cook you dinner, take you out, and might even introduce you to his friends, should you run into them when you are on the stroll. But here's the catch, Sugar Tits -  how does he introduce you? "Oh, this is MAH FREN Bitsy."  And before you can even swivel your head in disbelief, you have learned all that you need to know about this Fuckboy. He wants the trappings of the Girlfriend, without ever bestowing that oh, so coveted title upon your sweet head. Let me guess his reasoning. Could it be he is just not ready for a relationship? Yeah, sure, ok. Maybe, and here is my fucking favorite. He doesn't like labels. But he sure does love fucking you 17 ways to Sunday and buying you Tequila shots til your panties slide off like they were made of the same shit as fruit roll-ups. Before you next let him plunder your sticky-bun of fun, axe yourself if you are ok being a (girl)friend with benefits without the actual title of Girlfriend. If not, MOVE IT THE FUCK ALONG. Especially before you get so deep (and not the kind that puts your butt to sleep) that you develop actual feelings because you put your heart in the part of a part that spreads apart. 2018, boo. 20 motherfucking 18. We can say who, we can say when, and we for damn sure can say how much.

2) The Submarine Fuckboy

Now, now, you dirty bitches, don't think that the name of this Fuckboy has anything to do with his wang. This is not because he has a footlong-schlong and smashes your cervix like mashed potatoes. No, this particular Fuckboy earned his moniker from his ability sink deep (still not talking about fucking, ya whores. Jesus, buy some fucking dildos or something, you cock-hungry sluts) and then rise up fast enough for you to catch a glimpse of the periscope (just stop, hoochies) before submerging again for an indeterminate time. You meet a guy, you think he is cool, he thinks you want to smash (you do, shut it) but you also want to see about breakfast, cus you are a lady, goddamnit. So you all hang out a few times, and things seem to be going really well. He calls/texts the standard issue amount of times for you both to think the other is interested in this being more than a booty call, and then suddenly, the submarine submerges. And not into you, but to the depths of the ocean floor. So you, gentle flower, say to yourself, "Self, I think I just got ghosted. Oh, fucking well, plenty of chum in the ocean," and you start moving the fuck on with your life. But, wait! UP PERISCOPE! The submarine Fuckboy has surfaced again and is ready to start exploring your ocean again. Before you let him dive for your pearl, figure out if you want this so-so kind of lover. If not, see above.

3) The Fixer Upper Fuck Boy

This one is the female equivalent of when a guy is dating a girl and he is acting all "Captain Save a Hoe." You can't fix stupid, lazy, cheap, etc. And this Fuckboy knows he's a Fuckboy, but he is in for the swag. When a girl gets her titties-a-tingling, thinking "I can help him," she done made her first fatal fucking error. This guys knows exactly what the fuck his end game is, and it is "get mines, til I can't and then move the fuck along." He comes at you from a position of  'weakness' but is really using that to his advantage. Down on his luck cus he lost his job/apartment/got dumped by his ratchet ass ex girlfriend (and it was totally her fault because she was CRAZY)? Oh, of course you will buy him some shit, help him get back on his feet, let him crash at your place til he gets his life sorted out, and put the pieces of his sad sack life in order. This motherfucker probably doesn't even NEED you to do this, but maybe has some latent Mommy-Issues where he needs a woman to take care of him, even though he is perfectly capable of taking care of himself. He preys on a woman's nurturing nature, probably even sucking dem titties like a baby (and if that is what you are into, good on you, I don't judge peoples sexy time things). This Fuckboy also typically has something called hand-to-pocket disease. You can do a quick little test that doesn't even involve sticking a Q-tip in his pee-hole. Simply don't reach for the check the next time y'all are out for dranks, dinner, looking at titties, whatever. Leave your wallet at home. If this fixer-up Fuckboy doesn't try to pay for something at least this one time, he's not in it for you, he is in it for what you CAN do. He ain't JFK either, so he does not need to be asking what you can do for your country (him). Tooooooderooooooo, Motherfucker. And make sure this ass-hat didn't steal your cash or your credit cards on the way out the door.

4) The Classic Fuckboy

I know, I know, people are all like, ''Dis Bitch H-Bomb don't think we know how to spot the OG Fuckboy?'" You know how I know you don't know? BECAUSE Y'ALL ARE STILL FUCKING WITH FUCKBOYS. Even me. There, I said it. Since I wrote my first Fuckboy Fiesta, I too have fell victim to the wily ways of the Fuckboy. I know, y'all are saying, ''What the shit, H-Bomb, you were better than that.'' And I thought I  was. But getting dicked down feels SO good and even I am prone to getting dickmatized. So, I must warn all my buttercups (D-Cups make me happy, btw, send nudes) be on the lookout for all the Fuckboys, doing Fuckboy things, like blowing your back out then calling you an Uber because your dumb ass answered the WYD text at 12:40 am, when you know damn well your kids had school in the morning. Or, inviting you out to dinner and being on their phone the whole time ON TINDER. Fuck that noise. And if a guy won't claim you after he claimed your butt-hole, then tell him fuck outta here with that Fuckboy bullshit. If you want to keep telling yourself it's just sex, and it is ok if he is a Fuckboy, then I don't want to hear your shit when he says, "I just saw this" and but had that shit on read for 4 hours. Naw bitch, that ain't us.

With all these new variations of Fuckboy's popping up like a damn game of whack-a-mole, I used to feel like maybe I could rise above, be smarter, be better, DO BETTER. Nah, fuck that shit. I like getting my kitty petted like the next girl and I like riding the PTE all the way to O-Face Town. So if you can't beat them (and no, I am not saying catch a case dear hearts, most of us are too pretty for prison and we all know I will get traded for a menthol ciggy about 5 minutes into my stay at the Graybar Hotel) then join them.



Friday, August 11, 2017

15 NYC Roommate Horror Stories That'll Make You Want To Live Alone Forever

Comedy Central

1. The freeloader:

"I was living in a five-person studio when one night I woke up to a random person opening the door to my shack and climbing into my bed like it was empty. I tripped over the guy to get outside, and found my flatmates with their buddies — they'd gotten drunk, found a homeless guy, and thought it'd be funny to bring him back. They lost track of him and he just climbed in bed with me. I couldn't get out of that apartment fast enough!"
—Torey M., Facebook

2. The vomit venture:

"I moved to Brooklyn with two girls I'd met on Facebook. A few weeks in, I awoke to our doorbell at 1 a.m., then heard footsteps, then a SPLASH. When I opened my bedroom door, my roommate was literally spewing vomit all over the hallway, my door, even my toes. She had a group of people over who were walking through the vomit, tracking it all over our apartment. Luckily, my other roommate charged downstairs to make everyone leave, but I was stuck bleaching and cleaning up until 3:45 in the morning."
—Anna Kopsky

Apatow Productions

3. The full package:

"I'm a girl, and I used to live with three guys in Brooklyn — one of whom would watch porn in our living room in broad daylight and jack off to it. One time, he came home at 3 a.m., screaming, 'BURN THE WITCH!' repeatedly out the window to his girlfriend. He also was in jail at one point for heroin possession, and actively did shrooms and other psychedelics. But that's not the worst part: He also set up a hidden camera in our bathroom to watch me. We called the police and kicked him out after that."

4. The butterfly:

"My roommate and I were texting about my dog on my way home from work late one night. When I got home, we started talking through his door. I knocked on his door to thank him, and when he said, 'Yeah?' which I took to mean, 'Come on in.' I opened the door to him on his bed, in butterfly position, with no pants on. Then, he slowly closed his laptop. He was masturbating. I made eye contact with my roommate while he was masturbating."


5. The intimidator:

"Soon after I moved in with my new roommate, she'd wait for me to come home, asking where I'd been. She told me that she wished there were a realistic Hunger Games theme park, where she 'could actually kill people.' She also told me a story about how at some college in China, a student was made fun of by his roommate. As a chemistry major, he had access to a variety of chemicals in the lab and ended up poisoning his roommate. After telling this horrible story, she told me that that was why one should 'never mess with their roommate.' I was VERY cautious around her."

6. The pukey pal:

"I ended up living with a girl who insisted that she didn't speak any English, even though I saw all of her homework written in English, so we could never work anything out. Also one weekend I went to visit my family, and when I came back I found one of her friends asleep in my bed, and she'd puked all over my brand new sheets."
—Viv Jean, Facebook


7. The dog debacle:

"I found a roommate on Craigslist, and she seemed sane. Then one day, after brunch, she pulled me outside to scold me for not doing HER dishes, because 'she worked more hours than me.' She continued by explaining how she didn't really NEED a roommate, and that she just chose me so her dog would have company. It compounded exponentially from there, and later on she accused me of killing her dog, which died about four or five months after I left."
—Jen Anne Gillette, Facebook

8. The sponge situation:

"I once realized my roommate was using the bathroom toilet and shower sponge to clean some dishes. When I told him it was for cleaning the toilet, he just shrugged and kept going. Needless to say, I spent the rest of the night rewashing them. Disgusting."


9. The case of the cat:

"I once had a fantastic roommate who had to move out suddenly. Unfortunately for me, the girl who moved in after him was awful and barely paid attention to her surroundings. One night, she left the window open, my cat got out, and when the cat returned, it was pregnant. I was furious."

10. The pig party:

"One morning I came back to my apartment at 7 a.m., and there were five shirtless dudes I'd never seen before, passed out in my living room. To top it off, an actual teacup pig (that I'd also never seen before) came running around the corner — and then started eating out of an ashtray. They all belonged to my roommate."

Universal Studios

11. The satanic sweatshirt:

"My roommate was a college student I met on Craigslist. One day she had this sweater hanging up to dry in our living room. I told her how cute it was, and she gave me a deadly serious look. 'Um, thanks, I might throw it out though. I think it's possessed by the devil.' I asked why she thought that, and she said, 'The woman I bought it from told me.' AND YOU STILL BOUGHT IT AND BROUGHT IT INTO OUR HOME? OKAY."

12. The Dave drama:

"In July 2009, my friend and I moved to Manhattan Valley. We did a Craigslist search to fill our last room, and found Dave. Things were fine for three weeks, and he'd been doing some freelance carpentry work with our landlord on our building. One day, we realized we hadn't seen Dave for some time, and his door was ajar. We peeked in, and all of his stuff was still there, with a note on his bedside table. He wrote that our landlord was 'an awful person and we should avoid him at all costs.' He apologized for leaving in the middle of the night, stated he never actually paid his share of the first month's rent and security, but left all of his stuff and told us to 'sell it to cover his share.'"
—Allie Amanda, Facebook


13. The comb confrontation:

"I lived with a girl I met on Craigslist. One night I asked if she borrowed my comb, and she got up in my face, screaming about how if I said one more word to her she'd kill me, then hunt down my family, and 'baptize herself in their blood.' She continued to yell various other threats through my closed door. I moved out."

14. The terrible towel tale:

"I came home one morning at 7 a.m. to get ready for work. There was a towel in the bathtub that was still kind of wet and had sand all over it, so I rung it out and hung it over our patio balcony. I didn't think too much about it until I later asked my roommate if she had fun at the beach. Confused, she replied, 'I didn't go to the beach. My girlfriend and I tried cocaine and threw up in the bathtub last night."


15. And the water bottle war:

"One of my roommates in the city was from Egypt, studying and acting in NYC. She was strange from the start, but the strangest thing was that she kept always two or three water bottles in the bathroom beside the toilet with the squeeze top, and I never asked why they were there, but one day she randomly said to me, 'If you're wondering what those water bottles are for, it's just... how I clean myself after I poop.'"

via - BuzzFeed

Tuesday, July 25, 2017

Don't Fuck With The "Wolfman"

Out of all the houses to break into, these two burglars made the worst choice possible. The pair of thieves are Garfield Morgan, 54, and his 36 year old buddy Kim Gorton. While both are life-long burglars, their careers ended on the worst note possible. Usually you want to exit the game with a big score. Unfortunately the “big score” they encountered was not what they had in mind.

Harry Harrington stands 6’7″ and weighs over 300lbs. These are not 300 pounds of couch potato. This is pure muscle throughout, and no doubt quite a large package between the legs. You see, Harry is also a notorious homosexual sex predator, with a long record for assaults on gays. Being such an aggressive and predatory sex assaulter, with an enormous build, this is one dude you don’t want to cross. But these two guys not only crossed him, but broke into his house!

Known also as “The Wolfman”, Harrington man-handled the men with ease. He proceeded to tie them up, then did what he does – assaulted them for five days straight!

The cries for help were so overwhelming, that a neighbor eventually heard the men and called police.

The men were completely filled with trauma and pain. The ordeal they went through must have been unthinkable. Though many commentators believe they got what was coming to them, and then some.

It’s hard to believe that some think that five days of being raped by a guy called “The Wolfman” is really justified for thieving. On top of that the men will be doing more time inside. Harrington is also headed back inside as well for his assault.

via- SomeDaily

Tuesday, June 6, 2017

What The Fuck Were You Thinking When You Got Dressed This Morning: RompHims

"It's fashion, look it up."

- Random Dude

"The ‘Male Romper’ Is Offensive Because Rompers Should Be Gender-Neutral"

- HuffPo

Man, y'all need to STFU. Thankfully, the meow meow of the RompHim has died down, but I have been following this trend and became somewhat obsessed with the memes because of how silly this shit is. And I love silly shit. For reals. This was a few days of pure fucking comedy gold. But seriously, dudes need to leave their girl's rompers on the floors and at the racks of Target, where they belong. 

If you are going to call me a sexist, hater, or what the fuck ever your candy ass wants to call me, go for it. I don't give a fuck. But let me tell you what most non-millennial-bunny-hugging-everyone-gets-a-trophy-did-you-just-assume-my-gender people think about the RompHim.


I am ALL for breaking the glass ceiling and challenging gender norms and stereotypes. Girls want to work in male dominated industries? DO THAT SHIT. Little boys want to play with dolls? Fuck, yes. I will buy you the prettiest Barbie in the goddamn bunch. Do my 30 somethings (and up) remember in the 90's when there was a runway show and some super hot male model was wearing a leather skirt and a mesh top? That shit made me tingle in the bathing suit area. And do I need to say anymore about gender-fluid Ruby Rose? I didn't think so. Take a fucking seat.

But a Male Romper, AKA RompHim? Pass me my bag of nopes because imma need all of them shits today. The RompHim being 10lbs of "fuck no" in a 5lb bag is just that for one very simple reason:

Kibbles and Bits.

I will take, "What are things I do not want to see hanging out of your shorts, for a 1000, Alex."

No, good sir, I do not want to see your saggy ass, turkey gobble, hanging out from your floral RompHim. I just fucking don't. I don't want to see it in your house, I do not want see it with a mouse. I do not want see your sack, I do not want to see your crack. I do not want to see your junk, nor will it make me want to swallow your spunk.

For me, and most of my fellow ladies (and probably lots of men, too, because equality motherfuckers), it is about aesthetics. And TBH, your biscuits and baby-gravy-maker are NOT that good looking. Don't get me wrong. I love the cock. Love it. Love a good looking cock and appreciate all the joy that a fuckstick can bring. But, not all cocks are pretty - some look like someone smashed their man-meat with a meat tenderizer and then used a band-aid of hot coals and broken glass to attend to the wounds. And those would be the first fuckers rocking a RompHim, twigs and berries just flapping in the breeze. Yeah...NO. 

Now, imagine if girls started walking around with their Mud Flaps hanging out, looking like Dumbo's ears when he learns to wanna see that shit? Cus I don't. And sit down, you pussy pervs who do. I know one of you sick fucks does want to see that, but you are the exception, not the rule. Samesies when it comes to beanbags hanging out of RompHims. Ya dig?

I am glad to see, that much like my virginity in high school, this was a fleeting trend. I hope to God I don't see dudes wearing the equivalent of high-waisted shorts for girls, because just like I want to do when I see that shit, imma hand you some Vagisil for your hot-pocket, because you are one more muggy day away from getting coochie cheese all over your shorty-shorts. 



Wednesday, December 7, 2016

20 Passengers Who Went Above And Beyond To Make Your Flight Unbearable

1. Could you not air your socks out on the food tray, sir?

2. “Sometimes you just gotta let it all hang out…”

3. This makes me uncomfortable.

4. Umm… WHAT?!

5. At least it’s in a pouch…

6. No, no, no, no, NO!!!

7. How can that possibly be comfortable?!

8. Meanwhile, in the emergency exit aisle…

9. You poor plebeians with no leg room, please pardon me while I stretch out a bit.

10. S…s…s…STOP!!

11. What could possibly compel any civilized being to do such a thing?!

12. You have GOT to be kidding me!

13. Isn’t there some sort of weight restriction on this plane?

14. Do you mind?

15. Re-evaluate your choices.

16. I would hate to be the poor soul sitting in front of this supremely inconsiderate person.

passengershaming / Via

17. Just your typical airplane contortionist.

19. Not impressed.

20. Well, I guess you’re prepared…

via - BuzzFeed