Free Advice Friday From Your Aunt* Fatty

Dear Aunt Fatty,

I can’t stop eating cake. I eat cake every day. And it’s not just limited to cake – I also eat cookies, donuts, brownies, etc. If I don’t have any cake, I bake some and then I eat it. I just love cake. What should I do?

Thank you,
Have & Eat Cakery

This is me, choking down my raw carrots, reading about your cake “problems”.

Dear Have & Eat Cakery,

Yo, is this a real problem? Cake is not bad. Cake is delicious. I daydream of cake. I real dream of cake. Cake is fucking everything. So, for realsies, I think you’re living your best life.

Evidence:

“I bake some and then I eat it.”

1. You can bake

2. You can eat what you bake because it’s edible

These are not real problems.

Unless you think it’s a problem. Then it’s a problem.

I’m no expert or anything, but I think cake has tons of sugar and no-no flour in it, so if you’re on some kind of diet, I think cake is the opposite of what you’re supposed to eat. I could be totally wrong, though.

If you feel like your cake consumption is a problem, maybe eat half of the cake you normally eat and see if life is worth living with less cake. If you find this is not a sufficient amount of cake and your life has lost all meaning, just eat your normal amount of cake.

I really wish I had your problem right now. I’m going to go cry in my zoodles.

Your Aunt Fatty (who hates you right now, btw)


Dear Aunt Fatty,

Where shall I seek my Soul Mate?

From,

Bunny64

Dear Bunny64,

I wasn’t sure if this was a legit submission as I get all kinds of spam email from my site now that I’m self-hosting, but I figured I’d better help a, uh, bunny out, just in case.

Here’s my philosophy on soulmates. Why don’t you make yourself comfy? Pull up a chair. Make yourself a cup of tea. While you’re at, can you make me one, too?

Your soulmate can always and without any ounce of doubt be found in a perfectly powdered donut. An artfully iced cinnamon roll. Even a plain piece of white toast smothered in Nutella. If you’re not a fan of eating “morning foods”, I guarantee you will find true love in a perfectly crafted chocolate lava cake with melty vanilla bean ice cream on the side. Better add some hazelnut sauce while you’re at it.

People can’t always be relied upon to be someone’s soulmate, but carbs are always, always there for you. Remember that.

Your Aunt Fatty (who really wants a donut now)


Dear Auntie Fatty,


I joined a dating site in order to try to get over a guy, thinking if I had someone new, I could forget my feelings for him. Horrible I know! But then I met someone on there. He’s really sweet and we hit if off. Only thing: I’m still all hung up on this other dude! I can’t drop my very deep feels for him. I was an adult about it and told the sweet guy I had feelings for someone else and that it wasn’t fair to him if I wasn’t honest with him and myself. He was totally cool and wanted to stay friends. That was a few weeks ago, and we still talk a little bit, but he keeps pushing to actually meet (cos we haven’t yet!) and he says “just as friends” and he knows I’m not ready for a relationship. I’ve agreed to meet him now but I’m afraid he’s not really looking at it “just as friends”. What do I do on our meet up to ensure he gets that?! No solid plans yet, either ping pong or maybe just coffee at a bookstore, so these ideas have got to be flexible! 

Sincerely, 
Hardcore Friendzoning

Dear Hardcore Friendzoning,

I know making generalizations about men on dating sites isn’t fair, but what I have personally experienced would scare the bejeezus out of you. If you need a brief mental image of what I am referring to, picture a grown man asking for his diaper changed.

Almost every single guy I met during my brief foray into the terrifying single-and-dating life wanted “more than friends” action.

Also, many were on there, like me, to forget a former lover or relationship. When that is your reason for being on a dating site, it’s kind of blue balling your dude friend. Very few men are just looking for a friendship when they get on a dating site, whether what they want is a committed relationship or just sex.

This is my opinion from what I’ve experienced, personally. Others’ experiences and perceptions may be different.

So, from what I see, you’ve done your part in expressing what your boundaries are in being on the dating site and hanging with him. It’s up to him to respect those. If he doesn’t, you stop interacting with him, or he’s going to end up hurt if he has real feelings for you and you are not ready to reciprocate.

Dating is the epitome of the hard knock life, man. All too often you fall for someone who is pining away for someone else or vice versa.

Because this shit sucks, I suggest you go on a date with Ben & Jerry, because, well, duh.

Otherwise, I’d suggest bowling- it’s the least sexy date you can go on. The shoes look horrific and they smell even worse. Bowling alleys are loud, smelly, and dirty. Finally, unless you’re a professional bowler, all people look awkward bowling. Go bowling.

Your Aunt Fatty (who loves you and just wants what’s best for you)


Dear Aunt Fatty,

JoJo wants me to ask you when we have ice cream and I eat it all, what should she do? Keep in mind that the shit sat there for a whole week before I ate it. Go.

Sincerely,

The Midnight Goose and JoJo

Dear The Midnight Goose and JoJo,

Goose Pal, how are you still alive and well enough to write this email? It doesn’t matter if the ice cream has been in the fridge for over a year and there’s an inch of freezer burn covering the entire carton, YOU DON’T TOUCH YER BOO THANG’S ICE CREAM. I love you, Allen, but, pal, you done wrong (that was a lot of commas, but it had to happen).

My dude once ate my leftover helping of this decadent chicken fettuccine Alfredo I make whenever we are feeling like our arteries ought to be clogged. It’s made with cream cheese, full fat milk, and a buttload of parmesan. I thought about it all day long. I was practically foaming at the mouth by the time I got home. When I discovered his crime, I, legit, didn’t talk to him for a week and two days. He got off easy.

I believe eating your spouse’s/partner’s/dog’s treats they are probably saving for later should be punishable by death.

So, it was nice knowing you, Allen.

Regretfully Yours, Aunt Fatty


I was shocked at the amount of emails I got from ya’ll. I didn’t think this would get the response it has. If you’re reading this, feeling pretty ripped off because your query wasn’t included in this first Free Advice Friday post, fear not, you will be included next week.

Some of your questions were legit issues and I’m still trying to work out the perfect fucked up answer. Some of your issues were pretty damn funny and I’m trying to find out how to be funnier.

So, you gotta wait another week. I really hope I can make the suspense worth it.

Keep sending in those fucked up problems, my weirdos! You can contact me via my Contact Page.

*I don’t want any of you thinking of a crusty, old woman when you read ‘aunt’. Think more young (ish), wildly idiotic when it comes to being an adult, and super cool because she knows what ‘trill’ means (after doing a Google search). Think the kind of cool aunt who takes you to get Pink Drinks and then falls for your wily ways so she buys you, on her almost maxed out credit card, an entire new wardrobe at Target, complete with unicorn earrings. I’m that aunt.

Reasons Why I'm Fat #2,347 and Other News

I’m working on a post on Friday at 1 in the afternoon*, because I’ve been in bed for two days still feeling like I’m swinging in a yoga silk. 
Ugh.
It started last week. At the end of class, when we wrapped up like fat vampires (well, I’m the fat vampire) to cool down, the new instructor moved us so we spun in our coffins of carnival-ride-hell. It was absolutely terrible.
Terrible. 
Just thinking about it now makes me want to vom. Ugh. Bleck!
This past Wednesday, I asked the instructor not to make me sway *there it is again. Excuse me while I calm down my gag reflex*
Everything was fine until she forgot. She realized just seconds later and got me to stop moving, but the damage was already done. 
That whole night I had dreams of all sorts of nauseating things. I’d detail them, but I just can’t without my head spinning. 
The next morning, I barely got out of the shower alive. I’m a real wuss when it comes to fitness and committing to eating plans, but I’m simply not one to call in sick all the time. However, there was just no way I’d make it in. I could barely stand for five minutes without feeling like I was in a fun house of horrors. 
As a teacher, it’s usually just easier to suffer through the pain than to put in for a sub, create last minute sub plans, and ask your already-overworked-fellow teachers to help you out. 
This meme knows:

However, sometimes it’s the difference between barfing during your Number Talk and barfing with dignity in the privacy of your own bathroom. 
Already, long story short, I think aerial yoga is making me motion sick. 
Seriously, this just fucking figures. 
Right when I feel my body feeling tighter. Right when my arms have less swing. Right when I’m feeling a definition in my sausage legs, the fitness that can be thanked for this miraculous change makes me physically ill.
I try to get fit, but fit don’t want this. 
Fuck it all. Seriously. 
In other news, I guess there are worse things than fitness being attributed to sudden illness, because I got a message on Plenty of Fish by…
Adult Baby
Friends, when I received my first message from this “guy”, I thought he was the first truly honest dude on a dating site. 
Instead of finding out after you’re already invested, he’s kind enough to lay it all out, right in his username. 
Adult Baby says to me: 
I will pour myself a bowl of cereal, get more on the table and floor than in my bowl, and I won’t even notice. 
I can’t hold down a job, unless posting horribly written Yelp reviews about massage parlors that offer happy endings counts as a job. 
You will have to clean up after me, because I’ve never bought a cleaning supply in my life. Not even a trash can. Is that a cleaning supply? 
This is what I thought. For a quick minute, I thought maybe he was kind of secretly smart and almost kind for being just so outright about his immaturity. 
Then, the term “Adult Baby” was explained to me. 
I’ll never be the same again. 
Just google it. Just.google.it. 

It doesn’t happen a lot, but I’m speechless
 
I am pretty much convinced that every  dude on every dating site out there just wants to get in your pants or they want you to change their pants. 
I’ll pass. 
I thought for a quick minute that maybe they weren’t all creeps, because I was talking to a really intelligent and witty guy. It was more than just talking. We met for drinks and he took me to sushi. Other than talking way too much and being incredibly long-winded, he seemed like someone I could really see myself getting to know. He knew how to form a complete sentence. He knew who Gary Oldman was. He had a job. It seemed like a win. When I didn’t respond to his endless sexual innuendo jokes that obviously meant he was trying to talk sex, he was suddenly not interested. Cool, bro. 
They seem to all be like this. 
He didn’t even get it…


I’m just…
I don’t even know. Maybe I’ll know in my next blog post. 
Well, I’m off to Google, “exercise that won’t make me motion sick” and to delete the dating site apps on my phone. Or, do I keep them for the sole purpose of endless entertainment? 
What a varied and exciting life I lead. 
*Obviously it’s not Friday anymore. Even more obviously, I’m a total procrastinator and didn’t finish my post on said Friday. 

Plenty of Freaks and OK Nope

Hey guys. It’s been a minute, but I’m back. I know those who know me are anxiously awaiting my aerial yoga post. Yes, I went to a type of yoga that requires upper body and ab strength, agility, and gracefulness-all of which I do not have. Wait for it. It’s coming, and it’ll be good. 
For now, I must discuss the state of the single-and-dating-world, as that is where I am firmly planted. For now. 
OMG, ya’ll. It’s fucking terrifying. 
Like, so scary. So.scary. 
OMG. 
Remember when I said I was going to share a new personal challenge with you? Well, I’ve already begun miserably failing at it. I’m just a fucking rockstar at life. 
I was going to challenge myself to a year of being single. It’s what everyone is saying I need. So, it must be what I need. I see the value in figuring out who I am as a single person before I jump back into a relationship. I see how giving myself a significant amount of time to heal is a smart thing. I get it. But, as with all things easier said than done. 
Literally two days after I posted that I would be challenging myself to something pretty hardcore, I signed up for Plenty of Fish. 
This kind of erratic, bipolar-esque behavior explains a lot in my life.
I’m now on Plenty of Fish and OK Cupid. 
Help me. 
If the majority of the men I’ve been contacted by and interacted with thus far is any indication of how my dating life will go, I’ll be single for a hell of a lot longer than a year. 
I don’t even have the words to fully express my horror/disdain/disappointment, so I’ll just share a few screenshots. I didn’t get the idea to write on this topic before I deleted many a message, so just know, these are just the fucking tip of the iceberg. 
Please share in my pain:

Now, obviously this dude just wants a night of fun. Maybe some woman out there wants one too. Nothing wrong with that. What is wrong is that he “wood” really like me to watch him in a “golf tournament”. Also, not one period or comma. Not.a.one.

When “wanna hang out” doesn’t work, just let it go. Where’s your dignity, man?!

Damn*

Nope.
This one was actually kind of sweet, but please don’t let me know you’re well-endowed in your very first message. And, as a teacher, I’m appalled at the lack of punctuation. The horror!! 

This one…I don’t even…I can’t. I just…have no words. 

Gross. 
OK, the jig is up, ladies. Who’s responding to these sick, macho, sexist, ignorant, and just plain gross “pick up lines”? Obviously, these men think this crap works. There are two possible explanations:
1: It works at least once. I need to find these women to slap some fucking common sense into them, if even possible. 
2: They are truly mentally handicapped, ignorant by choice, or they were taught this is how you pick up women. 
Either way, I’m terrified. I think I’m back to working on my challenge. A life being the crazy cat lady who smells of cans of Whiskas and Bengay isn’t looking so terrible.