Roast Me: Halloween Edition

On Reddit, there’s a popular, recent-ish subreddit called /r/RoastMe entirely devoted to people asking other users to, as the name suggests, roast them. People willingly submitting photos of themselves to be mocked by strangers from around the world? Sounds great! Said an alien trying to pass as a human but lacking capacity for self-doubt yet still aware of what “roasts” and “subreddits” are for some reason.

Typically, roasts involve other people subjecting the Roastee to good-natured ridicule. But ha ha, joke’s on you, internet. Why ask strangers to make a mockery of me when I’ve got a mirror and 25 years overflowing with self-doubt? I can roast myself just fine, thank you.

And I will be doing so shortly after making sure “roasting myself” doesn’t have a very different connotation in Urban Dictionary…okay it doesn’t. So, let’s get back to you watching me roast myself raw.

Today’s roast will feature my own childhood Halloween costumes for comedy and to be current and not at all because I want you to look at how goddamn precious I was between the ages of 2 and 8.

Me, age 3ish, as a doctor

the doctor is in

HA yeah right, Doctor Baby Mia. I bet when you get to high school, you’ll only be a mediocre science student and barely pass the AP Bio test, but you’ll still ask your AP Bio teacher to write you a letter of recommendation for college, and you’ll immediately regret it when you realize his validation of you as a science student was the academic equivalent of “…no no but she’s like super nice.” Mostly because he definitely used some variation of that exact phrase in his letter of recommendation.

Also, is this the proudest you’ve ever seen your dad?

Diagnosis? ROASTED.

Me (Left), age 2ish, as a tiger


Um, wow. Way to reinforce racial stereotypes by dressing as a tiger. Everyone knows tigers are native to Asia and not even the same part of Asia as your family’s lineage. So, congrats to you for further perpetuating the idea that all Asians look the same. Disgusting.

Also, very offensive to appropriate feline culture when there is an actual cat person standing right next to you.


Me (Right), age 5ish, as Snow White

snow asian
Gonna take a brief moment to roast Present Me for having the first thought in my head be “Snow White? More like Snow Half-White/Half-Filipino.”

You have a college degree, Present Me. Were you not present for the tiger costume roast that just happened? Were you too busy wondering why a costume of Snow White would have Snow White’s face on it to think of an actual roast? Are you still not 100% sure how roasts work?


Me, 4ish, as Baby Bop from Barney

prince ali baby bop

Why’s your hand in your mouth, Baby Bop Mia? Because that’s the only way to make your mouth agape enough to adequately express how impressive your mom is for making both a Baby Bop and Prince Ali costume, both complete with headpieces?

No? Just licking chocolate remnants off your hands?

No? Just trying to distract everyone from the fact that your younger brother is now in the offensive-to-real-cats tiger costume? NICE TRY.


Me (2nd from the right), age 6ish, as a princess

mercado halloween

What are you supposed to be, tiny Mia? Princess of Handing Down Your Costumes to Your Younger Siblings and Having Them Look More Adorable Than You? How’d you get that title? What land do you oversee? Do you feel mentally prepared to take on the duties of being in the public eye? Are the societal pressures of being a princess the reason why your face looks so disengaged?


Me (back left), age 8ish, as a witch


Oh, wait. This is actually a candid photo of my siblings and I in our natural state. Me and my sister are just two literal witches, and my brothers are ninjas. This is a normal day in the Mercado household. Nothing to roast here or comment on or dissect or infer here.

What a great roast, right? Tell me how you would’ve roasted me in the comments, but only if you’ll be nice but not patronizing, and on second thought, don’t say anything at all thank you I don’t need to grow or change.

“10 Cats in People Costumes That Will Confuse You Sexually” & Other Blog Post Titles I Wrote Instead of Writing an Actual Blog Post

Think of this post as a Choose Your Own Adventure that ends after you make your choice. A plane ticket you buy and the destination is just the front of the ticket line. It will take you nowhere. Like a one-way street or an English degree. You’re here. You made it. Congrats class of

  • It’s Okay To Break Up With The Demon That’s Possessing You Even Though It’s Halloween
  • How To Tell If You’re Dating A Vampire Or An Empty Case Of Hocus Pocus On Blu Ray (Not As Easy As You May Think!)
  • Feminist Halloween Costumes That Also Make Your Boobs Look Good
  • A Review Of Ghostbusters By Someone Who Just Watched It For The First Time! Side Note: I’ve Been Lost In A Corn Maze Since 1983
  • How to Talk to Your Trick-or-Treaters About Gun Control
  • DIY Halloween Costumes that Only Require a Few Household Items and a Complete Lack of Self-Respect
  • October’s Almost Over and I Haven’t Had A Pumpkin Spiced Latte Yet So Where’s My Goddamn Courage Award?
  • Scary Stories About How Infrequently I Wash My Hair
  • 12 Halloween Costume Ideas to Keep Open In a Separate Tab While You Shop for a Sexy Minion Outfit
  • A List of Fun-Sized Treats to Pair With Songs From The Musical Hamilton as an Excuse to Prove I’m Hip and Cultured and Know What’s Up In The Broadway World
  • How to Decorate Your Apartment for Halloween By Doing Nothing and Letting the Spiders Take Over
  • Non Technology-Based Ways To Keep Your Civil War-Era Ghost Children Entertained While You Run Errands
  • Silly Halloween Pranks to Play On Your Friends Using Actual Cadavers
  • I Saw Halloween Way Too Young and That’s Why I’m Triggered By Those Jamie Lee Curtis Activia Commercials
  • Trying Halloween Candy From Countries Where They Don’t Celebrate Halloween but Do Put Blood in Food for Some Reason
  • I’m The Foster Mother to 18 Baby Pumpkins: Ask Me Anything
  • How to Tell If Your Ghoul Cheated On You
  • A Brief Guide to Gourds (NSFW)
  • Homemade Traps to Catch Witches When They Least Expect It
  • QUIZ: How Many of These Indian Burial Sites Have You Built Mini-Malls On?

September Favorites

Can you guys believe it’s already October?! Incredible. Seems like only yesterday summer was starting, swimsuit season was in full swing, and we’d just surpassed 100 mass shootings in the US. Now it’s already fall, there have been over 260 mass shootings, and the Pumpkin Spice Latte is BACK! Time sure flies when you’re not having effective conversations on gun violence!

My favorite thing about the passage of time is my ability to measure it in terms of things I recently purchased or experienced, deem it as content that isn’t entirely masturbatory, put it on the internet, and expect actual humans to read it.

Everyone! Gather ’round and live vicariously through the best parts and pieces of the past 30 days I’ve compiled into one consumable blog post in effort to appear as though I only ever do cool things. Let’s get all cozy and hold metaphoric hands as we blatantly pretend that going to work or watching cooking tutorials for fancy paninis or crying while I contemplate my purpose aren’t a significant part of my monthly routine.


My sister, Ana, designed a collection of 10 outfits for Milwaukee Fashion Week. I’m sorry, I don’t think you were paying attention: My sister designed clothes for a literal fashion show featuring outfits she created from inital concept to final garment for one of the biggest fashion events in the Milwaukee area. Also, she’s still in college. It’s whatever.

sophia for Ana Mercado Design
Sofia in the outfit she modeled (via)
Mathilde and Maria for Ana Mercado Design
Mathilde & Maria in featured outfits (via)
Ana Mercado Design in Milwaukee Fashion Week
Final walk during the show (via)

Ana had me model one of the outfits and ugh, okay, fine, I guess I’ll show you pictures of me in the show now.

Mia for Ana Mercado Design
hi hello (via)
Mia for Ana Mercado Design via Hawk Photos
ur welcome for my presence (via)
Mia for Ana Mercado Design
Ana (L) excited for me being a v good model & for no other reasons (via)


Here’s the thing, guys. You can spend a stupid amount of time writing long form content you convince yourself the world wants, like I may or may not be doing right now (hint: I am). OR you can dick around for 10 minutes on Photoshop, jizz out something dumb, and the internet will swallow it up. (But could I have subtly incorporated a fellatio joke in a short form piece? Hmm, internet? Probably? Okay.)

I made this Tumblr about a month ago. You don’t have to look at it. The content is inconsistent and mediocre and jk pls look at it. I guess someone who runs this Bernie Sanders Facebook page was one of the 20 people who saw it on Tumblr and shared this:

Oh the places you'd go if you weren't riddled with student loan debt
instant classic wow clever where do i collect my millions

Then, it got shared on Reddit.

Then, I realized people have strong feelings about the use of “riddled” vs “saddled.”

Then, I ate a sandwich.

Then, I obsessed for a little too long over how many likes and shares and upvotes and reblogs and views and comments it had.

Then, I started writing this post you are reading.

Then, I found out it was shared here and here.

And here I am now, a completely changed person living off of that sweet, sweet viral money and definitely not just trying to fill the empty void inside of me with the affirmation of strangers who have no idea I made the thing they like because proper attribution isn’t always given and do you think “As Seen on @TheFatJewish” will have clout on a resume?


Ana also made me a dress for my birthday, and I was like OKAY I GET IT YOU’RE TALENTED AND I’M OBSESSED WITH YOU CAN WE TALK ABOUT ME NOW PLEASE.

Mia for Ana Mercado Design
me looking v comfortable in nature (via)

She wanted to do a photoshoot while I was in town for her show, and I was like OH NO I CAN’T I’M TOO SHY AND HUMBLE AND MODEST AND WHY AREN’T YOU GETTING MY GOOD SIDE I LOOK BEAUTIFUL AF WHEN I’M BEING SHY AND HUMBLE.

Mia Photo Shoot (609)_edit
o sry am i being photographed i didn’t know (via)
Mia Candid
A candid shot of me & nothing else (via)


That’s it. That’s the whole story. I went to a Turquoise Jeep show, and I danced onstage to a song called “Treat Me Like a Pirate,” and why do you need any further explanation?

mia and yung humma dating??
I’m the one on the left wearing flannel in case you were wondering if I know how to dress appropriately for rap concerts.

Just a casual Tuesday evening, twerking with my close friends Yung Humma and Flynt Flossy to a song with the chorus “Treat me like a pirate and gimme dat booty,” echoed by the distant sound of my parents’ hearts breaking.


These are two videos of me when I was a bird. My comedic timing was much better when I had feathers.

What are your September favorites and how do they relate to me and why aren’t they just me to begin with?

On Being Remembered

My desire to be remembered is equally rooted in narcissism and insecurity. Both of which are most definitely based in fear. This would all be more concerning if wanting to be remembered weren’t the most human of all human things.

Show me someone who genuinely thinks, “Nope, not me. I’d prefer for everyone to forget me entirely, thanks.” And I will be like, “Great for you, sir or madam. Cool that you are secure enough in your present existence to not be crippled by the fear of whether or not you matter in the context of time and space. Because in truth, we probably don’t matter. But it’s not a dark and empty kind of insignificance. It’s more of a “single star in a night sky” kind of unremarkableness. (Are you there, Mufasa? It’s me, Mia.) Anyway, good on you for making peace with being forgotten because it leaves more room in people’s hypothetical memory for meeeeee!”

This need to be seen and heard in spaces where I am not physically present is not new for me. There are two things I did as a kid that were an overt physical manifestation of this need: 1) burying a time-caspuled letter in my first childhood home and 2) sending a message in a bottle down the river by second childhood home. Tiny Baby Mia, you romantic little psycho.

My dad was responsible for the time capsule. He needed to fill a big-ish hole in our basement after doing some repairs and decided to seal a time capsule in the hole.

The contents of the time capsule included a state quarter (because this was during that time when those were a huge deal (something something capitalism)), I think a family photo (in case whoever found the box wanted to know the faces of the people who thought state quarters would stay relevant), and a letter I wrote of which I can only remember one line: “Please don’t tear down our house.”

time capsule letter
Likely contents of the rest of the letter

What sort of Mary-Kate and Ashley mystery-adventure movie did I think I lived in? 8-year-old Mia was so addicted to the drama, she apparently created a hypothetical scenario in which some real estate billionaire or oil baron decided to claim stake in all the duplexes of suburban Wisconsin, probably with the intention to demolish and replace them with mini-malls or something else villain-y. All was going to plan UNTIL one of the villain’s cronies did a quick sweep of one particular, Mercado-owned duplex for any mysterious time capsules sealed into walls (obviously) and discovered a handwritten note that essentially read “um but like how about u don’t.” And the house was saved and the town rejoiced and 8-year-old me got to hold hands with Jonathan Taylor Thomas forever.

It seems I made a habit of putting dramatic notes inside of things from ’98-’99 because a year later, I decided to write a message, put it in a bottle, and send it on its way.

I used an empty bottle of key lime juice, and I sent it down the Milwaukee River. There’s a metaphor in there probably. You can do the work.

So, a funny thing about life is that sometimes things come back to you when you least expect them to. (Ahem.)

Five years later, the boy whose locker was directly next to mine in high school decided to talk to me for the first time in two years.

“Your name’s Mia, right?” he asked genuinely, despite having seen me between classes every single day for two full school years, but it’s whatever I guess, Dennis. “I think I found your message in a bottle.”

The coincidence of a message in a bottle I sent down a river at age 10 somehow returning back to me at age 15 after being found by the boy whose locker was directly next to mine is perfect and absurd and sounds like the plot of the next Nicholas Sparks book, which will inevitably get turned into a movie and get poor reviews specifically regarding the story’s lack of believability and/or cancer sub-plots.

There are a lot of unanswered questions here. The first of which is why Locker Boy kept the message in a bottle instead of giving it back to me. I’m guessing it’s because what I wrote was articulate and revolutionary and definitely not just — oh I don’t know — my full name, my age, what I looked like, my address (LISTEN, I KNOW), and most likely my entire life story. 10-year-old Mia wanted to be remembered, dammit. And if it had to be posthumously because she essentially sent a message to the greater Milwaukee area that said “hey, come get me, murderers!” so be it.

I recognize the self-serving irony in writing a post about being remembered using stories about myself on a blog that has my name as the URL. (Maybe it’s more just overtly ridiculous than ironic? (Are you there, Alanis? It’s me, Mia.))

I guess that shouldn’t be much of a surprise, considering all of these things I’ve intentionally put in places hoping to be found. I’ve consistently been inserting myself into a hypothetical future, figuratively and literally writing my name on a piece of paper and telling Time to hold my spot. But enough about the plot of Interstellar.

Maybe this post will return to me at the bed of some metaphoric river or perhaps one day I’ll cement it into the pages of a book. (Haha jk how do you RT and Fav a book? What a dumb medium.)

Or maybe we’ll all forget this post even happened. That seems fitting in the long term.

(If you agree, like and share and leave a comment with #Mia4Never and schedule this to reblog again in a year and then like and share and comment again then, too!!!)

How To Be 25 (By Someone Who Just Turned 25)

I think I’m supposed to be in the thick of my quarter-life crisis, but life expectancy for women in the US is 81.2 years. Meaning, my quarter-life crisis should have been happening since the December after I turned 20. So, I guess I’m behind. Should I have been divvying up the belongings of my former self already? I’ve got a half-pound of ground turkey in the fridge that’s going to go bad soon if anyone wants that. I also haven’t written a will. So, in case of emergency, please follow the instructions on my Twitter.

if i die young mia market

I titled this piece before I started writing it, which now seems like a mistake. A mistake I could very easily fix with quite literally the press of a button. A mistake no one would even know about were I not to mention it at all. But here we are: me, loudly announcing the mistakes I am in the process of making, and you, about to click away to watch a BuzzFeed video of people eating dog food for the first time. Bye! Have fun! Dying to find out if the chicken-flavored stuff doesn’t smell or taste like chicken at all, so let me know!!!

I don’t know how to be 25. Even ironically, as I intended the title to be. This is as far as I got when trying to devise a tutorial on being 25:

  • Step 1: Be Born
  • Step 2: Don’t Die
  • Step 3: Profit???

Then, I tried writing a list of “25 Things To Know Before You Turn 25” because that seemed easy and approachable and click-worthy and we all like lists that tell us exactly how many things we’re going to have to read before we can get back watching videos of people eating dog food.

But I only got this far:

  1. You will probably grow nipple hairs.
    It’s a thing. People don’t talk about it enough. “Enough” meaning constantly. I am forever shouting about the tiny hairs growing around my boobs just in case there is some unsuspecting female in earshot who doesn’t know and needs to be educated on both her forthcoming nipple hairs and my existing ones.
  2. It’s not a big deal.
    This directly refers to the nipple hair thing, but also a little bit to everything else. Most things aren’t big deals. This isn’t breaking news. There are probably four dozen different Thought Catalog listicles on it with accompanying stock photography of sunrises and disembodied thumbs-up.
  3. There is no end goal.
    Everything is just a series of things. Is this deep? Can I put this on a t-shirt and call it merch? Are you there, Tumblr? It’s me, Mia.

Turns out 25 things is a lot of things. Is 25 years a lot of years? Is that were I was going with all of this?

(Dear Future Mia – please edit all of this and punch it up and maybe don’t even post it and why are we not eating all the cake and ice creams write now? Oh my god, I just unintentionally wrote the incorrect “write,” and I’m leaving it for comedy and also leaving this note to detract from the aforementioned comedy, and now nothing matters and I still don’t have cake.)

Okay. This is perhaps the laziest thing I’ve written in a while. Because it’s my birthday, can everybody just do me a solid and have a great day? Go do a thing that makes you happy. Look at a bunch of puppies, in real life or photo form. Eat cake in my honor. Or go watch that goddamn dog food video.

Easy Ways to Keep Cool During Summer

As we near the end of summer and the days are hot and murderous, it’s important to find new ways to stay cool.

Sure, you could crank up the AC but think about the BILLS!!!! (cue campy shoulder shrug and sad trombone). And there’s always the community pool, but you can’t go back there after that man asked about your “nationality,” told you he could tell you were part Asian by “your kung fu stare,” and then loudly inquired, “HEY AREN’T YOU THAT FILIPINO CHICK” the next time you saw him at the pool. Also, you know you can’t trust a baby in a swim diaper. Get real.

So, here are just a few ways to keep cool with things you probably already have in your home.

1. Get lots of little buckets of ice and put them around your home and spaces.
They’re a great lil snacky for when you want to crunch down on a cool cube and perfect for when you want to do an impromptu ice bucket challenge and go viral and then wow look now you’re double cool.

2. Make a squirt-y water fan.
This is where you tell the tiny cherub you were gifted upon puberty to fly near you and whisper compliments in your ear while it spritzes you with the water it keeps in its chubby cherub cheeks. Positive affirmation AND constant rehydration!

3. Carry around sunglasses.
Put those bad boys on whenever you want to show the world how chill you really are and feel. The coolest person in the room is without a doubt always the one wearing sunglasses. Because everyone’s like, “Can you believe Jeff has the confidence to wear sunglasses to this wake? Wish I had his pizazz.”

4. Get a catchphrase.
I’ve been saying “how dare you” a lot. That’s not even a joke. It’s just a confession. I use it with reckless abandon and no context. It’s controlling my speech, and I no longer know how to respond earnestly to things. And what’s cooler than being disingenuous? Did you just mentally answer that rhetorical question with an actual answer? How dare you.

5. Find a girl squad and adapt to whichever typecast role they need.
Maybe you’ll get to be the sporty one but probably not.

6. Get cast in the next Fast and Furious movie.
Extra cool points to you if you’re Vin Diesel. And extra-extra cool points to me if you’re Vin Diesel because hi hello Vin Diesel. Big fan of your work, and by that I mean your shiny scalp and likely ability to carry me around in the palm of your hand. Please contact me for future business opportunities.

7. Hang out in a Costco freezer.
Insider tip: Score a spot behind the mini-quiches. Nobody will expect a Cool such as yourself to be chillin’ — quick moment of recognition for that pun — behind a food so lame and boring as frozen egg pies. Also, the unexpected nature of this hiding location will up your cool factor a sweet 2 points to the employees at Costco when they inevitably find you desperately gnawing on an unthawed Hot Pocket for sustenance.

8. Imagine life as a penguin and follow through.
Seems obvious, but it really works!

9. Become one with a Fudgesicle.

10. Abandon all responsibilities and the ones you love.
Nothing’s cooler than the frigid chill of isolation.

11. Hats!
Hats hats hats hats hats hats hats hats. That’s the catchphrase for hats. Hats are so cool they have their own catchphrase, and it’s just the name of what they are repeated 8 times.

How are you staying cool this summer? Is it by turning all that hot air in your head into a blog post? Just me? Okay.

How Did This Bald Eagle Get Snubbed For The ESPN Courage Award?

ESPN announced Caitlyn Jenner as the recipient of this year’s Arthur Ashe Courage Award. Yep. You read that right: Caitlyn Jenner. Courage Award. ESPN. Ashe. Recipient. Announced. Year. The. Of this. As. Arthur. ‘s.

This begs the obvious question: How is it possible in Jesus Christ’s America that this noble, honorable, dare I say it, BEAUTIFUL bald eagle did not even get an honorable mention?

bald eagle

You want to talk athleticism? Let’s see Caitlyn Jenner reach speeds of 30 mph while carrying a fish between a glorious, yellow beak. And don’t even get me started on their comparative wingspan.

bald eagle flying

Do you think Caitlyn Jenner uses the highly-developed talon on her hind toe to pierce and immobilize her prey? That’s what I thought.

Startling Fact: A bald eagle has never won an award for its bravery. Incredible, right? How has arguably the most iconic symbol of the Home of the Brave never been given so much as a participation sash?

eagle karaoke

You think being transgender in today’s world is hard? Try being a member of a species formerly labeled as “threatened” and “endangered.” That’s a stigma that still affects the Bald Eagle today. Just think about how often you’ve mistakenly referred to the Bald Eagle as “endangered” post-2007, when it was removed from the List of Endangered and Threatened Wildlife. Probably more than you’d be willing to admit if you ever came face-to-face with this majestic creature in the feathery, winged flesh.

bald eagle inquisitive

Some may claim that this is a moot point. That recognizing Caitlyn Jenner for this award does not equate to people saying that bald eagles don’t symbolize bravery. That recognizing Caitlyn Jenner for this award is a small but significant recognition of an entire demographic of people who have been otherwise unrecognized by history. That the American public widely accepts a literal bird as a symbol for courage but has trouble saying the same for, say, a human person who is part of a population who has been and still is persecuted for simply trying to exist as his or herself.

To them, I say this: Okay, but wouldn’t it be fucking cool to see an eagle hold a trophy?

america eagle

May Favorites

May is coming to an end, and we’re almost halfway through 2015. And I’ve apparently come to a point in my life where I earnestly say things like, “Can you believe May is almost over? Crazy!” I am the queen of observation, and you are all my dragons.

Here are things from this month I’ve enjoyed consuming in various forms that I have shat out in list-form for you to now enjoy. It’s a human centipede of enjoyment.

Having Wisdom Teeth
I got my wisdom teeth out last week. That is not one of my May favorites. It’s one of my May things-I-did-that-I-should-have-done-a-while-ago. Clipping my toe nails is also on that list.

I’m just getting to the point where I can eat solid-ish foods without drooling or feeling pain, but I now have to “irrigate the holes” where my teeth used to be. Well, if irrigation is good enough for Mesopotamia, it’s good enough for my mouth holes.

I miss crunchy foods. My favorite foods are all the crunchy ones. More on that later.

Here’s an obligatory video of me immediately post-surgery. Your guess is as good as mine.

These Words I Made Up While On Pain Killers
Here are the entire contents of a Google doc I created a few hours after getting my wisdom teeth removed and while feeling fancy free on various pain killers.

wisdom teeth ramblings
Very insightful, High Mia.

I had the sense to properly title the document “Wisdom Teeth,” and then proceeded to impart lots of wisdom including these 7 words I decided to gift to the English (???) language: moosh, gloof, snorch, meech, lort, fleech, henk.

None of the words had the squiggly red “NO WRONG NOT A WORD” line under them*, which apparently blew my mind enough to stop writing entirely.

*Update for High Mia: They have a squiggly red line under them now. They are not real words. No “did unlock secret vocabulary.” Also, gnocchi is not crunchy? Not sure where you were going with that. Anyway, you may now go back to watching the rest of Cutthroat Kitchen.

Scrotal Recall
scrotal recall

Listen. I know. I’m upset about it, too. But I watched all 6 episodes of this on Netflix last night because it was fun and mindless and cheeky, which is a cute British way to say that there are butts in it. I recommend it to you if you are someone who wants to take recommendations from a person who also watched an episode of The Bachelorette for the first time this week and didn’t hate it and maybe even liked it a little bit.

This Boat I Bought
honey bucket

This is technically from April, but everybody can just calm down because who cares and it’s fine and time is a human construct.

I went to Seattle in April and bought this boat. Its name is Honey Bucket, and we plan to sail many a sea together.

This Vine of Kanye West Talking About “The Fyootch”

I can’t stop watching it. It’s my favorite thing of maybe the past few months. Nothing is better to me than this.

That’s all the things that mattered to me this month, I guess. Oh, I also just ate a hot dog. That’s exciting for me at least.

What are your favorite things this month? Is it the fyootch? Perhaps glorfs? How about fleeches? That’s cool. Have a moosh day!

A Guide to Smelling Less Prejudiced


Tired of the general shit-smell of your garbage-person self? So is everyone around you! But have no fear — the secret to ridding yourself of the offensiveness you radiate is simple.

Does the secret involve recognizing your own ignorance, educating yourself, and having a general sense of empathy? Maybe, but that seems hard and also like learning. What a snoozefest!

The simple secret to smelling less prejudiced is just to mask the stink with something else. Quick, easy, and very noncommittal!

Everybody knows if you cover something disgusting with enough pleasantries, it neutralizes it entirely and doesn’t at all come across as the rancid stink pile masked in excuses and vanilla that it is. Have you never seen a Febreze commercial?

Way To Smell Less Prejudiced #1: The Classic
Do you feel a racist comment coming on? Not a problem! Just preface the comment with “not to be racist but…” and you’re golden!

Saying “not to be racist but…” 100% neutralizes your statement and is also completely valid in the same way calling dibs gives you legal entitlement to something.

It’s a very adaptable phrase as well and can be adjusted to become “not to be sexist” or “not to be homophobic” or, everyone’s favorite, “not to be offensive”.

Think of this statement as Chanel No. 9 mixed with toilet water. Both are timeless classics, and the notes of jasmine help diffuse the metaphorical poo of your personality as well as the literal poo from the toilet water.

Way To Smell Less Prejudiced #2: The It Girl
This is the hot statement of the moment! When someone calls you out for saying something offensive, aimlessly deflect the statement by saying, You calling me a bigot actually makes you a bigot.” No need to back up your claim any further. You’ll definitely be turning heads when you claim that someone is infringing on your right to infringe on other people’s rights.

This statement is like wringing out a Clorox wipe into an empty bottle of Justin Bieber’s perfume, Someday. As in “Someday I’ll take responsibility for my actions, but until then, I’ll just keep refilling this bottle of perfume with dirty counter top water.”

Way To Smell Less Prejudiced #3: The “Be Cool, Baby”
Someone trying to harsh your bigoted mellow? How lame and terrible of them!

Spritz them with a “Be cool, Baby”! Just one little spray will disperse whatever clearly obscene comment you made into 1000 micro-comments that will engulf the person whole, until they become one big walking, talking Baby who is Being Cool.

Or just mace them with Axe. No metaphor here. Just some solid promo for Axe.

How to Get Your Dad Bod Back

how to get your dad bod back

You’ve probably been feeling a lot of pressure lately to get your Dad Bod back. You remember your Dad Bod, right? How could you forget! With the constant depictions of it in the media recently, it’s like, “Enough, Media! We get it! Cool it with the depictions!”

The crazy thing is we were all BORN with Dad Bods. Seems impossible, right? But it’s true! Portly little bellies, chubby thighs, arms with poor muscle tone, baldish. Those are the days we all yearn for. Who wouldn’t love to go back to a time when we didn’t have to think twice about what we ate or what we wore or where we pooped or how death is imminent? But let’s face it…our bodies just aren’t what they used to be!

Here’s a shocking stat: there are over 320 MILLION search results when you Google “how to get your body back after you have a baby.” Guess how many there are when you search “how to get your Dad Bod back”? Who knows, but here are the actual auto-fill results for “how to get a dadbod.”

dadbod search results
Incredible. So true.

Getting your Dad Bod back is key to getting back your confidence, your happiness, your job, your house, the girl who wouldn’t go to prom with you because she was “only in 8th grade,” and your real, true self.

Check out these 5 easy tips to getting back your Dad Bod and getting back your life!

1. Watch What You Eat
Stare at it for long periods of time contemplating how it will all eventually just turn into poop. Gaze into your food’s soul and find out its favorite color. Look longingly at it and say, “I wish I could eat you up, mini corn dogs,” and then, DO IT. Eat those fried, little tubes of meat byproduct with reckless abandon and 4 different dipping sauces. Remember, it will all be worth it once you’re back to your Dad Bod-having self.

2. Reduce Your Exercise
Does whacking it burn calories? Probably not a significant amount! That’s why masturbating is the signature workout for getting back your Dad Bod. And it works out the most important part of your body: your brain!

Flex your imagination and pretend someone else it touching it for once. It’s a proven fact that boosting imagination boosts confidence, and boosting confidence boosts your chances of someone else actually touching it for real.

3. Hang Out With Other Dad Bods
Form a community of Dad Bods to help motivate each other. Make a pact to only do fantasy leagues with your fellow Dad Bods. Leave your families and move in together. Create a Dad Bod government. Vote for who will be your Dad Bod President. Decide you’d prefer a monarchy and dub someone the King. Then, knight each other and play with swords forever.

4. Allow Yourself to Have a Cheat Day
This is where you don’t picture your wife when you’re whackin’ it, which makes every day a cheat day! Yay!

5. Don’t Forget to Smile
We all know the saying: It takes 30some muscles to frown, but only one stranger berating you on the subway to smile! Oh wait, I meant this one: A smile is the best makeup you can wear if your gender isn’t expected to wear makeup! That’s a quote from our founding Dad Bod, Ben Franklin.

Make sure to share these tips and tricks with your female friends! They’d love to hear how easily you’re maintaining your Dad Bod! Maybe they’ll even touch it!