Don’t name your child something you would be ashamed to yell out in a supermarket.
This includes any make/model of car, brand of alcohol or American state.
“Holden! Shiraz! Alabama! Get ya arses back here roight now before I do me nana!!”
Q: What do hot dogs and women’s underwear have in common?
A: They’re both full of lips and arseholes.
I know this joke is gross, but it’s my baby and I’m proud of it. Feel free to share!
noun. Conversations with a central focus on male genitalia.
Most commonly found on dating sites and male sporting clubs.
Cockversations usually involve a lot of bragging, exaggeration and testosterone, as well as spontaneous frontal displays, which may or may not include ‘helicopter’ motions using the pelvis.
verb. Swearing for emphasis.
Commonly used when speaking about traffic or work colleagues.
noun. A male homo sapien who regresses to homo erectus status when in a gym environment.
Typical characteristics include excessively large physiques, blank expressions, steroid induced bacne, an obsession with their reflections (common behaviour of primates), and a grunting type of vocalisation- most commonly “nice rig bro” or “yeah, she squats.”
Gympanzees are also known to perform a type of mating ritual when in the presence of females. This demonstration includes flexing of muscles, lifting exceedingly heavy weights in a display of dominance, and further vocalisation- usually “hey sexy” or “you DTF?”
Gympanzees are easy to evade; their overly muscled bodies and aversion to cardio make them ill suited to pursuit, and whilst they can be quite aggressive they are easily confused and outsmarted.
verb. The act of literally laughing out loud, audibly, as opposed to just blowing a bit of extra air out of your nose in the guise of laughter.
Dear Autocorrect,
First off, I’d like to let you know what a vital and valued part you have played in my life. You’ve been with me since my very first iPhone, and although it took us a while to get to know each other, you eventually learned that when I type ‘fuck’ I mean ‘fuck.’ Nobody I know talks about ducks that often, and ‘ducking’ has taken on a new meaning for me. Picture Donald and Daisy in a lewd act.
I know not everyone is taken with you; mostly people with deft fingers or an attention span that allows them to focus on what they’re writing, not what’s on TV and that recipe in Food magazine you really wanna try and look at my split ends and aww my birdie is being cute and crap! I should’ve actually looked at that message before I sent it. Oh well. Lucky I had you there to prevent me from texting some garbled nonsense to my friend, causing them to worry I’d had a stroke. Or too much vodka.
But lately something has changed. It’s like now you are trying to change me. You’re second guessing me all the time, and some of your suggestions are just plain ludicrous. I am going to list some of your infractions for you to peruse and think hard about.
For starters, when I say:
Don’t even get me started about amd.
Then there are the times when I think you’re just trying to make me mad. I know I make mistakes, but you don’t have to be a jerk about it. It is your job after all.
So if i mistype ‘the‘ as ‘rhe‘, don’t be a smartass about it. You know full well I did not mean ‘rheumatoid.’ Oh, and that one time I left the w out of the word ‘newspapers’ you gave me ‘Nesta persons’!!!! I feel like you’re not even trying anymore.
So as I write you this letter on my laptop, with no autocorrect settings, I have come to realise that I no longer want you in my life. I wish we could go back to the simpler days of ‘ducking’, but I can’t keep reliving the past.
I’m sorry, but I jsut domt need ypu anymire.
……………
*Damn it*
An-tin-duh/der-pay-shun
noun.
The brief moment of excitement one feels after swiping right whilst waiting to see if you will be matched.
see also tinderpointment.
Tin-dah/der-poynt-muhnt
noun.
The moment of let down that follows swiping right and you are not matched.
Most dating apps I’ve used have a Tinder-like swipe left/right or ✖/❤ feature. You’re presented with a profile pic, age, location, and/or access to the full profile of whatever lucky bachelors the app’s automated generator decides may appeal to you.
78% of the time that generator is wrong.
Which brings me to my point: I will probably only swipe right/❤ to every 1 out of 20 matches. Unless I’ve been drinking and am feeling generous.
But my gripe lies in the fact that the guys I’ve swiped left/✖ to still continue be matched with me. It’s like the apps have figured out that the longer you are using them, the more disappointed and disenchanted you will have grown, and the more likely you will be to reconsider the rotund Armenian with the unibrow.
My solution? We need a Hell No! option.
With a button like this-
Or maybe-
Once this option is selected, the unlucky lad will no longer be presented to you.
Because no matter how intoxicated you may get, there are just some male specimens that should not pop up in your search engine more than once.
An old superstition that’s been with me for a while is the one regarding inside out clothing. Superstition being that if you put an item of clothing on inside out you have to wear it that way, as removing it and putting it back on the right way is bad luck.
This superstition clearly came to be known long before Victoria’s Secret released their pretty, dainty little panties adorned with scattered sequins.
I came to this conclusion after after wearing said pretty, dainty sequin – adorned panties around for half the day. Because any woman who’s spent time with sharp, plastic sequins poking into her cooter, strippers being the exception, would seriously doubt her luck was going to get any worse.
gabriellefeather5 