Jeans- not so sexy

The other day I went out with my boyfriend. I was wearing a new pair of comfortable, flattering, sexy jeans. My butt looked just right in them.

It’s often seen as the sexiest clothing item. A perfect fitting, low rise pair of jeans.
It’s all a lie.

We got back home and things started getting heated. The moment was perfect and we were both doing all the right things. Touching the right places, saying the right things. Then the undressing began. Taking jackets off- went alright. Taking shirts off- went well. My bra obviously stayed on because hey, what’s sexier than a girl in a bra and a pair of jeans? Then it came to the goddamn jeans. For fuck’s sake! Just thinking about it irritates the hell out of me.

Undoing the button is a mission, then the zip gets stuck, then you try to pull them down but they overlap by your knees and get stuck by your ankles and and and and!

Overall, jeans are sexy every time except when you actually want to have sex.

Halting my hate hedonism

I find so much joy and relief in hating so much. Expressing my hate makes me feel less frustrated. 

  • I hate when people confuse “to” with “too”
  • I hate when pretty girls chew gum with their mouths open
  • I hate when people whistle
  • I hate the smell of mushrooms being cooked
  • I hate being hugged when I’m angry
  • I hate that everything that is really nice is now becoming a variation of porn (car porn, earth porn, cabin porn)
  • I hate that every second 20 year old has their own photography company called “first name, last name” photography

This is all just material bullshit.

I’m so empowered by my hate that I’ve lost sight of what I love.

  • I love Futurama and 10 other series that have such well written scripts
  • I love cheesecake 
  • I love my mom, my brother and my dad
  • I love my boyfriend
  • I love sleep
  • I love looking at pictures of cats in space
  • I love coffee
  • I love good advertising
  • I love my dictionary app
  • I love my handful of friends
  • I love curry
  • I love painting
  • I love bathing

I need to stop giving myself so much room to hate so much. It’s too easy to hate. 

I get it hippies, I really do.




The word “fuck”


I am a snob when it comes to grammar and language. I believe efficient language is the most effective way of communication.

I also believe that swearing dumbs a person down. 

“That stuff smells like shit” is so much less effective and explanatory than “that stuff smells putrid”. “Shit” doesn’t describe the smell as one would guess it does. “Shit” doesn’t necessarily mean it smells like feces, just that it smells bad. “Putrid” suggests that it smells like rotting flesh. “Putrid” allows you to envision the nastiness of whatever it is that smells. 

Many swearwords have these ambiguous meanings. I try to keep them out of my vocabulary.

And there’s my weakness.


Nothing is quite as relieving as saying “FUCK!” when you bang your pinkie toe on the table leg. It somehow alleviates the pain.

There is nothing as good as a solid “Fuck” when you’re relieved, or when you’re not. Nothing as good as a “Fuck me” when someone good looking walks past.

 It is such a versatile word that you can almost replace any word with. 

My favorite is when people use it as a degree of comparison. “I’m hungry as fuck”. Hmm, how hungry is fuck? Or “She’s short as fuck”. How short is fuck?

It’s like a verbal orgasm. Countries should just have “fuck you” screaming matches to replace wars.