If you have the pleasure of knowing me personally, you can bank on the fact that I’m always always always usually right. Unless, of course, we’re dating, in which case, everything turns into a game of “we don’t understand each others’ perspective, so why don’t we just fight to the death like we’re in the fucking Hunger Games.”

As a betch, I take pride in the fact that I’m, ahem, usually right. So when someone tests me [espesh a S.O. (even if they’re right)] I have to refrain (like, REALLY refrain) from becoming a defensive bitch regardless of what the topic of discussion may be. That’s when the age old question comes into play— “Is it better to be right or to be happy?” For a betch, this is super complicated because for us, being right IS being happy. Am I right? (See what I did there?)

I don’t like apologizing……ever. And usually…..I don’t. But every now and then, I’ll do something that not even I can defend. I hate it. Like, really. But, alas, an apology must be made.

Oh, and for future reference, it’s best to just not do anything that you even MIGHT have to apologize for (because, hello, being sorry sucks). But, as we all know, betches get caught up in the moment and enjoy the last word, even if those words include, “I’m sleeping with your chapter’s president.” Or, “You never meant anything to me, loser,” when obvi neither of those sentiments are actually, well, true.

How to apologize if you were being honest, but what you said was fucked up: Awkward. You actually meant what you said to your BF, but what you said was, like, totes inapprop. And in the heat of the moment your filter was nowhere to be found, just like those Jbrands you let Heather borrow two swaps ago (what the hell, betch?).

Shit girlfriends say: “That shitty-ass ring you gave me for Christmas was HIDS. AS. FUCK.” So yeah, he gave you a less-than-optimal Christmas gift (that turned your finger green), but bringing up that tid-bit in June is neither helpful, relevant, or, well, respectful. This little seemingly harmless sentence will not only hurt your S.O., it’ll also sprout distrust and create a rift between the two of you because you obvs LIED about thinking the ring was “so0o0o0o0o adorbs and sweet!”

Damage control: “Trev, I’m really sorry I said that about the ring you gave me. It was obviously not hids or I wouldn’t have worn it all the time. It was super thoughtful of you to get it for me, and I was a total bitch for saying any of that.” Yes, you said some hurtful shit. But, even betches are human, and we all make mistakes (remember that Juicy tracksuit circa 2004?). 

How to apologize if you said some hurtful shit just for sport: So you didn’t even mean what you said to him. You just got pissed off and let your emotions take ahold of you (grossssss).

Shit girlfriends say: “You never make me happy!!!!” Ouch. Obvs if this were true, you wouldn’t have started dating this bro in the first place. But if you ever feel like being a complete asshole, this is the perfect go-to. It’s like the little black dress of mean shit you should never say to anyone.

Damage control: “I know I can’t take back what I said, but I hope you know I didn’t mean any of that. At all.” Well, those terrible words are already out there, so why not confess that they literally held no stock whatsoever? I hate (like, haaaaaaaaate) when I do things I’m not proud of (unless I’m drunk, then it totes doesn’t count, right?), BUT sometimes I definitely let the vindictive side possess me, which leads to rude words, drink tossing and fake pregnancies (my bad, Josh!).

Remember: The only thing less chic than being sorry is having cellulite. So if you don’t want to have to apologize to anyone, learn the difference between being a betch and being a bitch.Because, I promise, no one wants to date a bitch.

#mc

One of the best things about being a betch is that a mild case of narcissism and self-proclaimed heartlessness is not only accepted, but encouraged. …That sentence is the closest I get to having that warm, fuzzy feeling except when I, you know, buy a new pair of heels (or wedges. or a purse. or a belt. or earrings. or…)

I’m my favorite subject and caring is creepy. I mean, hello? If you aren’t concerned with yourself, who will be, right? And because I love myself so much, it makes it supereasy to determine whether or not someone I’m in a relationship with feels the same way. Natch we all show love in different ways, but if you’re not FBO and he isn’t wining and dining you, like, ever, is he really your boyfriend?

Just because I am, ahem, a bit of a narcissist, doesn’t mean that I have completely lost touch with reality regarding my expectations of the opposite sex. Just…well…somewhat.

Could someone tell Brett that just because he got me a card for Vday doesn’t make up for not. getting. me. a. present.????? Like, you obvi knew it was important enough to require a gesture from your end. But just a card? Really? I’m not saying I expected Yurman (though, I would have preferred it), but I would have settled for some decent chocolate, maybe my favorite magazine and a bottle of wine? Just some suggestions, loser. I baked you a damn cake and wore La Perla, it’s the least you can do (no, wait, the card was the least…).

Oh, Jason, could you, like, I don’t know, say thanks when I travel three hours to visit you? I mean, with more than just your mouth (not like that, you pervs!). But really, actions speak louder than words, so if you could give me a non-sexual massage or agree to watch Clueless, that would be great.

And Alex, if you put down Temple Run for long enough to closed-eye kiss me, I might even consider not sexting your fraternity brother.

See? All relationships have their problems. And ok, ok, I’m not saying that I am clearly obviously totally absolutely undeniably completely without fault. I could be nicer (ew) and way more understanding (gag). But as soon as guys realize betches need love, too, maybe we can be a little more obsessed with them and a little less obsessed with ourselves (maybe).

#mc

Hey, psychos.

As per the usj ush ujgh usual (what the shit is the abbrev for that!?), we have been receiving a plethora of questions via our Formspring asking us to please please PLEASE reveal the secrets behind the male mind and unveil what his completely fucking confusing not-so-clear signals really mean.

Allow me to preface this by saying that the number ONE way to know a guy you are interested in IS into you is….wait for it…..dun dun dun…here we go, ladies….you will be DATING each other. Duh, you loser. Hello?

Because more than half of the communication we have with these bros occurs via text, I decided it would be relevant to include some example texts that I’m sure we’ve ALL received from one bro or another.

You’re welcome.

“If he’s not ready to DTR, you better not be DTF.”

• Bro Pro: He asks you to dinner instead of his place to “watch a movie.” If he is making strides to court you as opposed to just getting you in bed for a game of suck and blow, then you’re on the right track to relayshville, population=you.

Good: We should probably go out sometime, just let me know when’s good this week (7:16 p.m.)

Bad: Wanna come watch a movie at my place? (12:02 a.m.)

Ugly: hey amnber I think u sdhould probabley ride over (2:12 a.m.)

• Bro Pro: If he texts/calls during daylight hours. If a bro is blowing you up (espesh between 11 p.m.-3 a.m.), he is interested in one thing—your vagina. Unless you are interested in simply being something for this guy to masturbate into, I suggest you don’t reply.

Good: Morning, girl (9:35 a.m.)

Bad: Where you at? (11:33 p.m.)

Ugly: we’ve got beer over here if ur interested (1:36 a.m.)

• Bro Pro: He tells you/implies that he misses YOU, not just your ladyparts. Though we all love to be complimented on how much he loves that thing we do with our tongue, we’re more than just a perfect pair of T’s and pouty lips.

Good: I’d love to see you (8:01 p.m.)

Bad: Wouldn’t mind running into you sometime soon (10:59 p.m.)

Ugly: I really really really wanna hav sex w/ u (3:16 a.m.)

• Bro Pro: He gives you compliments other than how much he loves your pillow talk. Stop. Stop. STOP. Pursuing guys who only talk about how nice your ass is and start dating men who appreciate your ass AND your brains.

Good: You seriously crack me up, funny, smart and beautiful (9:23 p.m.)

Bad: Has anyone ever told you how sexy you are? (11:22 p.m.)

Ugly: youre really hot and id prob not throw u outta bed if u were hre (1:19 a.m.)

• Bro Pro: His friends know who you are (and not just how hot you are). If he is talking about you to his bros (and not just about how much he wants to know your cup size), then there’s a good chance that he’s interested in pursuing a little more than just friendship.

Good: Do you care if we hang out with John and Zach later? They love you (3:44 p.m.)

Bad:

Him: me and the guys are talking about you (9:18 p.m.)

You: really? (9:49 p.m.)

Him: yeah. My friends think you’re hot (9:55 p.m.)

Ugly: Conner just asked me when im gonna hit that (10:40 p.m.)

• Bro Pro: He asks to hang out in advance. It shows that there aren’t other girls on the menu. You should expect to have at least three full days from the time of an invitation is extended to the actual event (date, cocktail, whatever).

Good: You interested in doing something Friday? (11:11 a.m.)

Bad: What are you doing later? (4:13 p.m.)

Ugly: ru free 2night? (9:14 p.m.)

Learn to be more savvy, sluts!

#mc

We had a question asked via our Formspring that inspired this post:

“Is it ever worth it/even possible to be friends with an ex? We’ve been broken up for a few months and he said he wants to be friends (he broke up with me). my feelings for him aren’t completely gone…but i dont want him out of my life completely…help”

To view my direct response, go here: Formspring

It IS possible to maintain a genuine friendship with an ex. But you have to understand, that this is the exception, not the rule. When a relationship is over, it doesn’t mean that you have to necessarily remove this person out of your life completely (unless they, like, killed your cat or something….RIP, Fluffykins). You just need to be honest with yourself and know when you are ready to be friends, ready to be acquaintances, or ready to let that shit burn (and by “shit,” I mean his shit that he left at your place before you caught him cheating. Bonfire, anyone?).

The top three reasons you shouldn’t “be friends” just yet (or ever)—

If you (yes, you) are the dumpee (as in, the one currently shoveling Ben & Jerry’s from a spatula down your throat and crying to The Notebook in yoga pants and his old football jersey), then you. aren’t. ready. You can pretend it was mutual or try to convince yourself that if you take him up on his “just friends” suggestion that you can eventually manipulate your way back into the GF posish (position, duh). Well, honey, I hate to break your heart twice, but you’re totes delusional. If he dumped you, odds are, he’s not coming back. And ew, why would you want him to????? Get your skinny fatass off that Dorito-covered Futon, go to the gym, wave when you see him, and pretend like you just don’t give a fuck. And guess what? When you continue to do this, you actually will end up NOT caring. At all. Oh, and don’t even CONSIDER going to that lunch date. While he may just want to check up on you, you’ll misconstrue the entire event as his attempt to reconcile and then all the progress you’ve made will be forgotten, and all you’ll be able to remember are the China patterns you want for your future home together. You aren’t ready for a friendship with him until you’re the one who cares less. Remember that. And try not to mislead yourself or anyone else into believing otherwise.

He cheated. Or did something equally awful (like, suggest you are a medium when you’re clearly a small. Or, like, take you shopping at Sears or….*gasp*….Payless). I mean, this should be a no-brainer, right? If I’m not in a relaysh with him, I shouldn’t be friends with him, either? Exactly! No matter how much you would like to pretend you’re over him and “over it,” it doesn’t matter because, hello? This guy sucks. If he was that shitty of a boyfriend, how good of a friend do you honestly think he’s going to be to you when you are no longer doing his laundry, or making his sandwich, or giving him bj’s? Snap out of it, you silly betch! If he did something so extremely unforgivable, then why would you even consider rewarding him with the honor of your friendship? Of course he’s saying he’s “sorry.” Hell, he might even mean it. But the fact of the matter is, if he ever respected you enough in the first place, he wouldn’t have done the thing that he did, because you would mean too much for him to want to jeopardize that. The harsh reality is that you didn’t, so he did. Why assume he’s going to respect you any more as a friend than he did as your boyfriend? I’m not encouraging sending him queued hatemail every Thursday or tweeting his mom about how awful of a son she’s raised. But you need to accept that what he did was wrong and if it was enough to crumble a relationship, you need to know that there might not be enough left between you two to salvage a friendship.

You are dating someone else. Ok, like I said, there are instances where the unthinkable happens— the stars align, the angels sing and everything just really falls into place. Odds are, this isn’t that time. If you were once involved with a bro, unless it was, you know, in middle school and you’re like a soph in college, it’s safe to say this guy is out of the running for bestie-boo material. I’m not saying you can’t pull a stop-and-chat when you run into him on campus or do the wave when you see him at the bar after two three five vodka sodas. I’m just saying that out of respect for your current partner, maintaining a friendship with a bro who used to be inside of you, might be a little inapprop. I mean, imagine if the Jimmy Choo were on the other foot, would you want your guy hanging out with some skank that he used to call a “girlfriend?” Obvi no!

No matter what the terms were during the breakup, there are always going to be some unresolved feelings and emotions attached to the relaysh that once was. This is normal. If they’re lukewarm for both of you, then whatevs, just proceed into a friendship with caution. I always recommend being civil with an ex. I mean, duh, at least pretend to not hate that uglyhot bastard with his cheap new arm candy (think: Sixlets, not Godiva), right? Right.

#mc

This question was asked via our Formspring.

Dear Vodka Vendettas,

How many times have you used a guy just for the food? And, where do you draw the line between a nice convo - free food and potential for more (tap buddies, MO sesh, relaysh material)?

Love,

What Are Boundaries?

Dear What Are Boundaries?,

Wait. Zack, is that you?? I’m, like, superrrr sorry I didn’t return all those texts….or phone calls….or FB messages….or e-mails. I’ve just been, like, really, really, busy, and stuff. Thanks for dinner, though! And coffee! *~HugZ~*

My metaphor for this question is going to be the radio.

Yes, that thing that’s in your car that you listen to when your iPod dies.

Guy to have fun with: This guy is cool, has some cash to blow on you and your penchant for mexican and margs, and best of all—he’s eager. He likes you, and you have a really good time with him, but for whatever reason, the spark just isn’t there. Maybe he’s too nice. Or needy. Or fug. Maybe you’re just not that into him. He’s like that song on the radio that comes on and you’re definitely not a fan of it, but you don’t totally hate it either. You’ll listen to it for like 30 seconds, and then click around the stations, but if nothing else is on, you’ll come back to it. Definitely not someone you want to commit to, but not a bad guy to keep around when you want a free drink and a good chat.

Guy to MO with: This guy is a step above mexican and margs bro, but a step below tap buddies (so glad this term has caught on) and two steps below relaysh material. He’s like that song that you can kindof dig in the car, but whenever you’re drunk with your girlfriends at the bar, it is like THE. SONG., and you just have to dance your fucking heart out. Yeah. He’s that song. He’s like the Katy Perry-Lady GaGa (before she got all “I’m gay, but not gay,” weird as fuck-ish) song of bros. Not anything you really want to listen to (or MO with) before four or five (or seven) shots, but after, you’re, like, all in. He’s not relaysh-worthy, but you’re at least somewhat attracted to him (and let’s face it, those vodka sodas didn’t hurt). He’s also not someone you would necessarily want to sleep with, but a little drunken MO side sesh isn’t out of question.

FWB: Ahh, tap buddies. This is probably the most difficult to define. …Well, not really….it’s friends….who fuck. But, whatever. This is the guy you’re super attracted to physically, but for whatever reason, you just can’t convince yourself that he is relationship material. Maybe he’s an idiot. Or unfunny. Or has intimacy issues (does he wear socks when you shag?). He’s like that song that comes on that you know all the words to and actually really like, but you just can never remember to download it and put it on your iTunes.

Guy to relaysh with: (Yes, I just made that a verb. Do you love it?) This bro is that song that you scan the radio channels for, dyingggg to hear. You can’t get it out of your head and when it finally comes on it’s, like, the. best. two and a half minutes of your life (hopefully this isn’t literally indicative of your future sex life). Once you finally figure out the name of it, you Youtube that bitch and listen to it back-to-back (to-back-to-back) for like three hours while doing your eyemakeup and refreshing your Facebook/Twitter tabs. You don’t want to date a guy you want to “change the station on.” You want to like him enough that you don’t give a fuck what else is on the rest of those lame-ass stations because you’ve got the best of the best. The crème de la crème. The pièce de résistance. The Louboutin among the Steve Maddens. …Ok, you get it.

And hey, some songs (bros) you aren’t really that into at first, but once you’ve listened to them (see: made out with them) six or seven times, they actually start to grow on you.

But remember, never commit to a guy you don’t want to listen to on repeat.

Fucking duh.

#mc

Clearly, not having sexual relations with potential bros is a foreign concept to all you betches, so I’ve taken the liberty to compile a mini-playlist to help you get a grasp on VV’s cardinal rule: Not Sleeping With Bros You Want to Date. If they want the goodies, tell them they can’t have them because they’re in a jar—only to be accessed by boyfriends!

You’re welcome.

#mc

Gwen Stefani “Hollaback Girl”

Betchiest Lyric:

“Few times I’ve been around that track
So it’s not just gonna happen like that
‘Cause I ain’t no Hollaback Girl”

En Vogue “Your Lovin’ (Never Gonna Get It)

Betchiest Lyric:

“Maybe next time you’ll give your woman a little respect
So you won’t be hearing her say, “No way”

Monica “The First Night”

Betchiest Lyric:

“Tryin’ to say things to get me to stay
But my watch is telling me it’s getting too late”

We’ve all had less-than-stellar first dates. They’re awkward. They’re uncomfortable. Is he going to pick me up, or should we just meet there? Is he going to kiss me? Because I’m not going to kiss him back. Does he think I’m going to pay for myself? Is he serious with his shoes right now? What is his hair doing? Does he think I’m listening?

Some dates you can recover from. Sometimes it really just is the pressure of the first date that is the problem. But some, there is literally no hope. That kind of date, my friends, is the type I had last night.

Strike one: We met at the bar.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’ve met past boyfriends and long-term flings at bars before. But that’s when I lived in a college town, and I had at least seen the guys around campus before. This fellow, however, was a complete stranger. I gave him my number, we texted for a while until he got up enough courage to ask me out. Where I went wrong in this scenario is, I said yes.

Strike one and a half: This guy seemed nice.

REALLY nice. …That was actually the problem. He WAS nice. Too nice. And normal. Boringly normal. No humor. None. Next.

Strike two: He’s not on Facebook.

What kind of serial killer are you? I mean, seriously, do you have friends? Family? A dog? A goldfish? Anyone? I’m scared.

Strike three: Etiquette faux pas

He literally WATCHED me eat. I know my sushi looked delicious (and it was), but seriously, this just reaffirms my fear that he is, indeed, a murderer. I’m not like most girls in the aspect that I don’t mind eating in front of a guy. I have proper table manners and am a size 2, so if I want to eat something, I will. I don’t know if he had never been on a date with a girl who actually eats (I’m not even sure he had ever been on a date at all…ever), or maybe he was just fucking weird? Jury’s still out, but I’m going with the latter. Also, every time I glanced at him when he was speaking, he chewed MOUTH OPEN, and had food all over his face. Who are you?

Bless his heart.

Thanks for dinner, but strike three (probs more like six).

See ya (actually no, no, I won’t).

P.S.: I don’t know how I didn’t notice it before (maybe it was the bar lighting, maybe it was the vodka), and I can’t believe I almost failed to mention it, but I think he was missing a tooth?

#mc