Advice Column: To Be or Not to Be Gas Lit, That IS The Question

Dear Ghetto Genius, 

I'm going to get straight to the point. I'm dating a guy who tells me he wants to spend his life with me, loves me and I'm the best thing to happen to him but constantly starts these horrendous fights with me about practically nothing. He's been working nights and I see him in the morning. He's never really wanted to go a day without seeing me so I make time for him. One day he says he's too tired, I go by his house just to grab my PlayStation and there is another car parked there. No one answered the door. He later wrote me and told me he had some friends from work pick him up to go out for drinks and the other dude left his car and they went in the other guys. Okay I can maybe buy that. But then as of lately he's been online when he's supposed to be asleep and acting strange. Like getting mad about nothing and taking to the extreme of almost breaking up but telling me I need to try to make things work when they get bad. Now today he tells me he's going to a meeting after asking me over and I went by his job because I'm suspicious ASF seeing as though we just had a major fight the day before. His truck isn't there and he tells me it's parked at a different store. Okay maybe I can believe that but then he's back online again shit it says he was online when I was there. Am I fucking crazy or is he gaslighting the fuck out of me? I love him and I want to believe him but I feel stupid ASF. 

Thank you for any advice,

Cher

Dear Cher, 

Before I begin to unravel the ponderance you are pondering, I need to address something. 

I am having a hard time answering your tale of woe seriously because you used the word 'prolly' in the subject line of the email you sent to GG headquarters and I had such a visceral reaction to seeing it I couldn't read your email for a few days. I get lazy text speak, the ur and r u, and all that other monkey mouth bullshit that passes as a form of communication these days, but the word 'prolly' is just a fucking bastardization of the English language (which is already dumb as hell sometimes) and I have to question so many things about any person using that word, because what the fuck. Like what the fuck do you do with all that time you have saved by making an 8 letter word 6 letters instead?! Are you working on your PhD thesis and need every precious moment before you defend it to your professors? I mean, I doubt it since you are spending most of  your free time being super-stalky, but for reals. What is the fucking point of that word. It is almost as useless as me spending hours walking through the MGM Grand in Vegas last year, looking for J-Wundercunt, when he was 10 hours late meeting me at the hotel. Oh, wait, I found his degenerate ass at some table, because I can sniff that motherfucker out and I have the cognitive skills of someone who doesn't use words like 'prolly' in daily conversations. 

Jesus H. Christ, I have spent the last year going to therapy, trying to be a kinder, gentler, middle-aged bog witch, instead of the absolute cunt of disaster I was for most of my 30's and in like 5 seconds you undid that shit with the most asinine subject like I have seen in the 10 years I have been doing this dumpster fire of a blog, with my favorite fucking snatch-slapper, J-Wun and done. I did the math, and since I am going to have to go back to therapy or bleach my eyes because of your fuckery, Imma need you to slide me about 5 G's to start this process again. And I am still gonna give you the good shit, FOR FREE. Ok, I will make you a deal. If you promise to never use that word again, I will not go completely chupacabra on your ass and try to help you out of this clown shoes ass situation. 

There is one way you can redeem yourself, and for once it is not with cooter & tiddy photos, but please tell me you are an early to mid-twenty something and your parents named you after Cher Horowitz, from the iconic 90's rom-com, Clueless. Also, you aren't stupid AF, but you seem kind of clueless. See what I did there? Bing bong! 

As I mentioned before, I have been in the therapies for some time and I know a thing or two about being gaslit, and that ain't it, boo. I spent the better part of the 10 years I have been putting key to board on this blog preaching that men are simple creatures, most of them not in possession of the gray matter necessary to properly gaslight someone. That kind of Hannibel Lecter shit takes a couple of things: sociopathic tendencies, a narcissistic mentality, and simply the fucking smarts, to be able to play mental chess with someone. And y'all are playing checkers, but with only like half the pieces. King me, motherfucker. 

I am going to say some very simple words to you, and for fuck's sake (it's possessive, because the sake belongs to the fuck, don't come for me, people) heed my words, possible child: If he wanted to, he would.

You are PROBABLY scratching your head and wondering what in the angry beaver fuck is going on and I will try to break it down further. IF HE WANTED TO, HE WOULD. And you know how I know this? I am only this wise because of my experiences, some hard liquor, maybe a few recreational substances, but also because I have lived this shit. Like until recently. So do me a favor and walk with me, child.

Several years ago, I wrote some columns about this dude I was dating. We will call him the Silver Fox Fuckboy, because that is literally what I call him in all the columns. Hell, that was even his name in my phone for some time. But hear me out bc there actually is a point to this story. We were on and off for about 5 years. In those 5 years, we were everything and nothing to each other at different times. We told each other we loved each other, we met each other's parents, we were ride or dies. I thought maybe, just maybe, he was the one. Mostly because I let him do butt stuff to me, but that is the kind of thing you do when you are in luuuuuurrrve. However, time and time again, when shit seemed to be going great, the fights would start. The evasiveness. The shitty comments. And then finally, we would break up. But the brown eye wants what the brown eye wants, and I would eventually find my way back to him. FOR FIVE FUCKING YEARS. 

Recently, we kind of rekindled things, but in a FWB way, not in a relationship-y way, mostly because dude lives less than a mile away from me and I liked to get dicked down. No shame in my game. This goes on for a little while, and then he posts something cryptic on twitter, and of course I had to respond because I knew exactly what the fuck he meant. And what it meant was that he was seeing someone; someone who was not me. Well shit. 

Here is why this is all significant, my little push-pop: in the few months he has been seeing this new person, I have seen him do a lot of the things that I would have given my left tit for him to do when we were together. Ok, that was dramatic, even for me, because I have fantastic tits and I would never do anything like that. I am sure I have you all sorts of mind-fucked now, because how would I know that he is doing the things for her he never really did with me? Because right before you undid all of the majestical healing I had undergone, I decided to try to be a more mature and rational person and stay friends with him. TBH, and this is some real shit, we make great friends. The SFFB drove me to and from Orlando last month (about 5 hours RT, each way) so I didn't have to drive myself to the airport when I was going to Iceland and had some crazy flights to and from there (for the record, I hate driving and I am a goddamn menace behind the wheel, so this was also a public safety thing.) When I have a shit day and need a wine buddy, this motherfucker always has a fresh box cracked. And that is also not a joke, dude loves his boxed wine. We live close to the ocean and sometimes we go for walks after work. Or he talks shit to me during March Madness, when my beloved Blue Devils lose and I want to cry and hit things. Basically, we took sex out of the equation and remembered why we hit it off in the first place, and I met his new lady friend and she is really lovely. That is not laced with sarcasm, either. She's a baddie. See, look at how mature I've become and shit. 

The moral of that long ass story was something I said in the beginning. IF HE WANTED TO, HE WOULD. And now this next part is going to be about as awkward as Joe Exotic waiting for his pardon when the former President was leaving office... that he never got. 

Your guy isn't gaslighting you. He is just doing what he wants, because he can. You can either muster up some self-respect, and grab your playstation one final time, and moonwalk the fuck out of his life, or you can continue to pine for him the way Joe Exotic was pining for that pardon. Fuck it, maybe go Carole Baskin and start unaliving people if your heart is really that broken. Bitches be crazy sometimes, and well, that's just motherfucking life if you're into that sort of shit. 

Oh, and the 'online' shit. GIRL STOP. All my socials say I am online all the time, even when I am sleeping or doing blow in sketchy bathrooms with people I just met. I have turned that notification off, and it still is trying to incriminate me. Do better, say less. Seriously, don't let people know you are stalking his online presence. It's giving me eau de desperation and that shit reeks. Also, stop doing drive bys - that fatal attraction shit is weak sauce, and even if you use the dumbest word in the history of words, I know you aren't that much of a dumb bitch. So stop acting like it. Even GG would be telling you the same shit I'm preaching. Why? Bc we think alike and know situations like this all too fucking well. 

May your vagina have mercy on his soul and never cross that bridge ever again...well, unless you're into real fucked up mind games and like to play the victim. 

Godspeed Soul Sister,

H-Bomb

Wait, What?! Podcast: Episode 24 - The Valentine's Day Special

Wait, What?! Podcast: Episode 22 - The Next Big Thing...

Wait, What?! Podcast: Episode 21 - New Year, New Crazy Shit!

Wait, What?! Podcast: Episode 19 - Girls Are The New Boys

Wait, What?! Podcast: Episode 14 - The Hustle & the Journey w/Photographer Tim Tadder

Wait, What?! Podcast: Episode 7 - A Week To Never Remember

Wait, What?! Podcast: Episode 6 - Things That Make You Go Hmmm...When High

Wait, What?! Podcast: Episode 5 - The Reality Show We Call Life

Wait, What?! Podcast: Episode 4 - Giving It To Them Straight

Boys Don't Deserve Names

At some point in my generation, girls became women and we said enough is enough. Enough of boys dragging us through the dirt only for us to help them every step of the way. Enough of us trying to read signs and decode secret messages when he was just “playing it cool.” Enough of being stood up and ignored and ENOUGH BAD SEX. It was time we started playing the game as well.

The Game
What is the game you may ask? Let me explain with a short story.

Girl meets guy. Guy meets girl. They like each other. But they don't want each other to know that they like each other. So both of them will simultaneously try to make the other think that they don't like them. Such things as blowing each other off, ignoring each other, and talking to other people are common occurrences. These patterns will usually continue until one person says "fuck it" and decides to cut all ties with the other, also known as "ghosting." And because the other person does not want that person to think that they care that they're being "ghosted", they reciprocate the "ghosting"  in which neither party will ever speak again. The end.

This seems to be a general theme within our generation. HOWEVER, I think us goddesses have evolved even further (per usual) and have learned to really play guys like the back of our hand. So much so that most of the time we don’t even dane to call them by their real names. Thus, begins my series of boys who do not deserve names.

Italian Boy 
Ahhh to be young and naive in San Francisco again. And by young and naive, I mean 5 months ago before I learned how dating in a big city works (I’m 22 for reference). Meet, Italian Boy. My first lover in the golden city. Before I became completely engrossed in the dating app scene (we’ll get into this later), I actually met this guy in real life. Ok, so, it was in a club. BUT STILL. Maybe we didn’t meet in a grocery store between the peas and carrots, but at least technology wasn’t involved. It was a pretty typical occurrence. We caught eyes. I stared. He stared. We made out. He grabbed my butt. I got tired and ditched him to get burritos. However, he did get my number which is how this whole rendezvous got started.

Like most guys do, he began by trying to woo me. We went out to drinks. I met his friends. We went back to his place. We drank wine. He cooked us risotto. It was orgasmic...

He then continued to tell me why everything is better when it’s Italian. Italian wine. Italian food. Italian people. Oh, did I mention he was Italian? We then had passionate, great sex (although I didn’t orgasm, so was it really?) and I went on my merry way.

Over the next two weeks we hung out a few times. Saturday brunch. Drinks at his place. I started dirty texting him for the first time in my life ever (OMG), but eventually the texts became less frequent and I found myself asking him to hang out way more than he way asking me. So I asked him what his deal was and he said “I want to spend more time with my friends and not have a serious relationship right now.” Typical. So, I cut all ties only to text him a few weeks later that we should still see each other, but only in the most casual capacity, if you get my drift.

He agreed, but now I had the power. Over the next few weeks, I continued to ignore most of his texts except once or twice for when I occasionally gave in. HOWEVER, he started hitting me with the “you never respond ;),” “did you fall asleep last night,” and my favorite, “we should actually plan a time to hang out instead of leaving it up to chance.”

LIKE WHAT DO YOU THINK I WAS DOING WHEN WE FIRST MET?!!?! Bye bitch.

I still text this guy every once in a while but this is just to prove that men want you to be all over them until you actually are and then they want something else. Mic drop. Thank you, next.

TV Guy
Awww TV guy. Sad this one didn’t work out. Would have loved being a sports reporter wife and fucking all the players behind his back. Just kidding but…hahaha. This was the first 30 plus guy I fucked in the city (don’t judge). It started out normal (as they always do). Saturday Breakfast. I was extremely hungover for this and had to go to work after UHG. Drinks and dinner. Sex at his place.

Before things started to heat up, I came to find he likes to talk dirty, and by likes to talk dirty I mean REALLLLLYY likes to talk dirty. Here I was, second time meeting this guy, as he’s whispering in my ear that he wants to french kiss my pussy instead of my mouth. It was obviously a red flag, but I was horny so whatever. We went to his room and started messing around until I asked him to grab a condom. Of which he has the most typical response ever that he can’t get hard with a condom, which I know is actually a thing but guys are such babies about it. Anyways, I tell him to try since I’m not having unprotected sex with a practical stranger (even though I have and probably still will occasionally, no judgment here). And we end the night with mediocre, half hard, half soft sex while he repeats things like “you like that?” and “is that big enough for you.” Sigh. Boys are idiots.

So what happened after that? I’ll give you one guess.

Boo.

Finance Guy 
We’ve all had a finance guy in our life. Those VC’s you assume are rich but you have no idea what they actually do or how much they actually make. He was 30 again  (I know I’m predictable). I’ve been told it’s because I’m mature, but LOL AM I??? Anyways. This guy was pretty granola. He had a great bod and could hold a conversation, but I can’t seem to recall one personality trait I really liked about him. He also religiously used condoms and was wayyyyy too into missionary.

However, this was the first guy I ever tried butt stuff with, and he liked when I gave him a little butt attention as well. WAIT DID SHE JUST SAY BUTT STUFF?!!? GUYS LIKE BUTT STUFF??!!? Yes they do, and not just giving but receiving (no, not a dildo up the ass but let's just say my fingers lingered a little past the balls). I’m not sure when the butthole became such sacred territory. Vaginas literally bleed every month, but for some reason people freak out that shit comes out of the asshole. I really don’t get it. It’s also soooo cliche that butt stuff is soooo sexy when it comes to a guy doing it to a girl, but the second you bring attention to it for guys they all become little bitch boys and freak out. Whatever.

This relationship ended in a somewhat cringeworthy fashion with the condom ending up inside of me, and him having to buy me plan B. After which, neither of us spoke again. That’s one way to break it off with a boy lol.

Crutch Wrap Supreme 
Look!!! An age appropriate guy!!! He’s 25!!! Too bad I named him after a Taco Bell menu item. This guy was a friend of a friend of a friend. We were all hanging out at my friend’s place when all these boys came over. One of them I kind of knew, and he proceeded to express his love to me throughout the night, and I was kind of into it. BUT. HIS FRIEND. Started making moves on me, and I didn’t really know what to do at first. Because MY friend didn’t make any moves, I started canoodling with HIS friend and we started making out at the bar. Confused? Same.

OH. I forgot to tell you he was on crutches this whole time, hence the name.

Anyways. I was actually making out with him in a bar right next to Finance Guy’s place and was texting finance guy throughout the night. Because I started freaking out that I might run into them both at the same time, I decided to ditch Crutch Wrap Supreme and meet Finance Guy near his place. HOWEVER, as I left the bar Crutch Wrap Supreme was at and walked over to where I was going to meet Finance guy, these foreign dudes (maybe Italian) started talking to my friend and I. We (mostly me) took a few drags of their cigarettes as we chatted with them. AND THEN, CRUTCH WRAP SUPREME shows up at the place I was supposed to meet FINANCE GUY. I end up having to practice my ninja skills by running past Finance Guy, tapping his shoulder, and skipping around the corner, so he sees me, follows me, and gets out of the viewpoint of Crutch Wrap Supreme.

And that was the last I saw of Crutch Wrap Supreme. He had my number, and we texted back and forth a couple times, but he never followed up on his proposal to grab dinner.

I wonder why? hahaha

Philosopher Boy
I interrupt this program to bring you some actual wholesome content. I promise you I’m not a cold, hard bitch all the time. This is a prime example of those guys that are perfect. Meaning they check off all the boyfriend qualifications like taking you to fancy dinners, introducing you to their friends, listening to your rants, and genuinely just being a great person. BUT FOR SOME STUPID FUCKING REASON YOU JUST DON’T FUCKING LIKE THEM GOD DAMMIT.

Philosopher boy was great. He took me to restaurants with tasting menus. He surprised me with fun dates. He was a great kisser. He went to Princeton and could hold a great conversation, but he just wasn’t the one *sigh*. My friend and I even hung out with him together once and she told me she could tell I wasn’t into him. As hard as I tried, you just can’t force connection. And so I ended up having to break up with a guy I wasn’t actually in a relationship with but was so nice that I couldn’t just ghost him. After getting some input from my peers we crafted the perfect break up text that I’m just going to leave here in case anyone else ends up in this situation.

The Break Up Text
“Hey, I’ve been thinking, and I’ve really enjoyed hanging out with you, but I don’t feel the connection I’m looking for. I just want to be upfront and honest about my feelings and don’t want to lead you on...you’re such a great guy but just not the one for me.”

Barf. At least it’s not the “It’s not you, it’s me” bullshit.

Frisky Boy 
Get ready for some juicy shit. Ok, where do I even begin? This all started on Hinge when some boy wanted to test my friskiness via text. I ended up texting him and not really giving him much to work on because let’s face it, I had never met him before. He then ended up not responding to me for about a week, of which I responded by sending him, a complete stranger, a semi-nude because 1. I felt like it and 2. I honestly just wanted the attention. For reference, it was a photo of my bare legs with my panties at my ankles and my hand looking as if I was going to feel myself…oh so sexy. This completely surprised him and jump started our frisky connection. It turns out, he was one kinky motherfucker, and we started dirty texting like no other. I am very new to the dirty texting world, and he completely opened my eyes. He would tell me things like how he wanted to fold me over his table, tie me up and fuck me slowly in the ass. He would ask me for nudes at work, and I would dutifully take them in the bathroom stalls. I loveddd when he told me what to do which is very new to me since I HATE when people tell me what to do in real life. I guess giving up control was a sense of relief for me.

HOWEVER, although I loved doing what he wanted, I didn’t lose sight of the fact that he thought he was some real. hot. shit. He lovvveeeeeddd playing the “busy” card and the “I’m so important I can’t text you back” card. So. Naturally. I had to fuck with him a little.

The first time he ignored me for a full night, he had specifically told me to text him later and see if we could hang out. I texted him and he simply did not respond. We were supposed to hang out the next day, so I let him know in the morning, “If you think we’re hanging out tonight, you’d be wrong.”

He apologized and blubbered and shit, but that’s when I realized I had to play this guy in order to come out on top.

Next time he ignored me for a full day, I followed up with a text saying, “getting ready for a date tonight, is this cute?” and a pic of me in my sexy, black underwear. He responded within seconds. This just further proved my point he was trying to play games. Mind you, this was a 33 year old man. You’d think they'd get better. They don’t. He ended up trying to be mean at first by saying “Very cute. Are you excited?” But then followed up with “I like that you’re trying to make me jealous.” This then started our convo on how he wanted to know the type of guys I was dating, and who I had hooked up with in the past. I sent him pictures of the guys and told him how far I had gone with them. Like I said, kinky motherfucker.

He, AGAIN, was not giving me enough attention one day so I hit him with the “just so you know, I will be fantasying about you fucking me with another girl tonight.” He, again, immediately responded (so, so predictable) with a million questions of whether or not I’ve done that before and if I actually wanted to.

I told him I was curious about it (which I was), and he proceeded to tell me about the French, Vietnamese model he used to date who was really into women. We then ended up starting a group message with Frisky Boy, Hot Model Girl, and me, and we all started dirty texting each other and getting flirty. I was really down to make this happen.

HOWEVER, Frisky Boy did as Frisky Boy does, and ignored me again for the last time. I ended up confronting him about it of which he didn’t respond to me AGAIN. And so, I followed up with a “Goodbye forever :)” text and blocked him on everything. It may seem dramatic but he should be graveling at my feet for what I was about to do for him. I did recently follow Hot Model Girl on Instagram though, so maybe something fun will actually come out of this after all.

Hot Model Girl
I can’t say  too much about Hot Model Girl yet, but she DID follow me back on Instagram and we exchanged a few DMs. Nothing has happened yet, but I’ve realized I’m open to the idea of girl on girl. Who knew?

Boy I Actually Liked
Time for the grande finale. I thought I would end this series by getting a little vulnerable with you guys. It’s all fun and games when you’re talking about sex and fuck boys, but there’s some real shit I have to address as well.

There was this guy. We’re just going to call him just Guy for lengthy purposes. He was actually my roommate for a few months along with 6 of my other friends. We also were co-workers in the same department (oh, so spicy).

It started out fairly innocent. We’d flirt. Go to the gym together. Get lunch together. I had a bad day, he bought me chocolate. He’d photoshop my face onto fish. You know, the normal stuff. I was actually really into him (although I denied it constantly, and still deny it lol). I know I was into him because he annoyed the shit out of me. Why is it that the guys I actually like are usually the ones I can’t stand to be around?

I think it might have been because he really knew me. Most of these guys I talk about think I’m hot and pretty. Some of them think I’m smart or quirky, but none of them really see me. They don’t know what makes me tick or what drives me. Guy knew. And I knew it about him as well.

Looks wise, he was a dreamboat, tall, blonde, brown eyed and a little scruffy. He was one of those super passionate, artsy types which I am too, but in a different way. If he has an idea he HAS to make it happen and won’t really listen to other’s opinions about it. I guess I’m almost jealous of him in that way (almost). I, on the other hand, LOVE hearing what people have to say and analyzing it until I find the most probable outcome (I know, I’m such a nerd). I like creating art but I want to create collective visions, not just my own. Anyways, as you can imagine, us working together caused us to…butt heads. Then, having to live together only made things worse.

I kind of wish things had worked out differently. I actually think if we had met five years later I would have fallen in love with him. We’re still friends, so maybe that will be a new chapter down the line.

Although I’m definitely all over the place when it comes to guys (and maybe girls? lol), I think there’s still hope for me in finding love and I can’t wait to experience it all.

Xoxo,
Girl Without A Name

Advice Column: Men Have A Cock For A Reason

Dear J-Wunder,

Lately I've noticed this fag bag of a friend and his pathetic ass posts on Facebook. I need to get your take on this because I'm not sure if I want to kick this guys ass or throw him into a pit of fire. Every day he cries like a little bitch..."You don't know what you got til it's gone..." "Time to get my mind off things..." "Love takes time to heal..." Is this dude fucking serious? It seems like he wants people to posts comments just so he feels like he's getting the attention he is looking for. 

I love my friend, but fuck...I can't take this shit anymore. What's the deal? 
Your REAL advice is needed. 

Sincerely,
Men Have a Cock for a Reason



Dear Men Have A Cock for a Reason,

I couldn’t agree with you more…a dude's wang is just about his only redeeming quality. Oh wait, that’s not what you were getting at huh? Sorry, I got sidetracked for a quick second.

Look, I think your friend is just looking for some fucking sympathy. What a sad, sad sack of shit...casting out his hook – baited with vague tales of woe – in the hopes of landing some concerned responses by a bunch of gullible ass people. Genuine bad news is one thing, but these manipulative posts are just pleas for fucking attention. This though, is about the worst case I’ve ever come across. We all have friends that didn’t get hugged enough as a child and use Facebook as their crying wall...but this motherfucker takes the goddamn cake. Two words: Man-Gina.

If you’re wondering, no, you shouldn’t punch this ass-clown in the face. Maybe, unfriend him if you can’t handle it. I know it's tough reading your News Feed with all his silly-sack-of-shit heartbroken posts, but unfriending him in the "social networking" world might save you from finding the urge of running this motherfucker over with your truck. No need to get all psycho on a buddy that acts like a little bitch, right? Unless you're from Florida and are prone to doing crazy shit since there's something in the water in that goddamn place. Nothing surprises me these days.

The solution is pretty simple, my friend: it sounds like your whiny bitch of a friend needs to HARDEN THE FUCK UP. And I'm not talking about getting his cock hard either. I'm talking about being a goddamn man and not some crying fucking douche bag that gets all emotional over stupid shit. Men hang out with other men...pussy belong on women last time I checked. Then again, we have Kaitlyn Jenner. Wait, what?! Calm down you sensitive fucks. It's a joke. But I digress...

God, if only it were that easy.

Honestly, I would call him out like the little bitch that he is, and tell him to grow a fucking pair. And if he has a big pair that he's already packing, tell him to get that shit checked out because vaginas don't look like franks and beans. It is quite possible though that he doesn’t realize what a vagina he is being, and it just needs to be called to his attention. He might thank you...OR, he just might slap you in the face (notice I said “slap”). Either way, the situation has grown so grave that your options are limited.

Like you said, men have a cock for a reason, and those who act like they don’t, need to be called-the-fuck-out. I know I speak on behalf of some men, that women don't want a whiny fucking bitch for a man, and quite honestly, I don't even know any chicks that whine as much as this dude. Not even the crazy bitches.

Godspeed,

J-Wun