Hate Mails For Our Hate Mailers

Dear small-minded human,

We appreciate your feedback.
Actually, we appreciate the fact that you are able to string a sentence together at all. You must be very highly educated and knowledgeable. I can only assume so being that this is a humourous blog designed to hurt no one and so perhaps your hate mail was more an ironic, comedic twist rather than the moronic, illogical invasion of reason it comes across as.

We have read your arguments as to why our lifestyle choices make you uncomfortable and would like to retort that your rudeness and lack of punctuation makes us, as well as many members of the heterosexual community, highly uncomfortable. However, if you may be willing to change then perhaps we would be more likely to ‘Eat a dick’ as you so kindly recommended.

I don’t have much hope though that you may be able to accept the lives of two people across the other side of the world, as you don’t yet seem to have the mental capacity to realise that by contacting us,  we are clearly able to see your email address.
Should we ever feel the need to attack the personal life of someone we don’t know, we will be sure to keep you in mind.

Lots of love,
The Adventures In Loserville Team.

Why I’ll Never Be Treated Like An Adult

  • I work at the same responsibility level as people who are still undergoing puberty.
  • I leave the discarded crust edges of my pizza on my plate.
  • I have been using a cake tin as a salad bowl for at least a year, rather than forking out the $3 to buy a larger bowl.
  • I think of vacuuming as an ‘optional’ household chore.
  • On more than one occasion at a formal event, I’ve been told that my shirt is not ironed.
  • I am still always in shock when the toilet paper supply runs out.
  • I’d like to buy a dog, but my first thought is immediately “but who will feed it?”
  • I still accept money for petrol off my mum when I visit.
  • I create scenarios in my head where I envision telling off someone who has recently pissed me off.
  • Washing my clothes consists of washing, drying and then being left in a pile on the floor for an undetermined period of time.
  • I allow myself a big enough period of time in the morning to snooze my alarm clock at least 5 times.
  • I giggle at words like ‘tits.’
  • I still use the phrase ‘when I grow up.’

Adventures in loserville-15

Shit Straight Girls Say To Lesbians

“But say, like, a guy came along and had everything you wanted in a woman… except he was a man, would you like, go there?”

“So how exactly does that work with two women?”

“Did you want to stay here and hang out with the guys while we go shopping?”

“Does it make you sad that you can’t have kids together? Like proper kids, that are both yours?”

“Who would you turn straight for?”

“How much money would you go straight for?”

“When did you decide to be gay?”

“I kinda get it because I see Angelina Jolie and I think ‘she’s really hot.’”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress.”

“I thought you were, but I didn’t want to say, in case you thought I was hitting on you.”

“What are you going to do if someone at work finds out?”

“Who’s going to wear the dress at the wedding?”

“Sorry I kissed you the other night, I was just drunk and wanted to know what it feels like.”

“Is that why you never wear make-up?”

“Can you just act a little less gay in front of my family?”

“What do you talk about when you’re with your gay friends?”

“Are you sure you’re a lesbian?”

“You’re a lesbian? But you’re so pretty!”

“Are you attracted to me?”

The Sad Diaries Of A Single Girl

I crossed the line between being single and being desperate somewhere in my twenties.

I guess it can be traced back to the point when I began using my free time to Google ‘quotes about loneliness’.

See here some an excerpt from my life when I was a single lesbian living alone, (dignity not included):

So I asked a woman out on a date not being sure whether it is a date or not. (And also not being sure if she is straight or not.) I avoided using the term ‘hanging out’ when I asked (via text I might add, because I don’t have the balls) thinking that it would somehow make my intentions clearer. Clearly not.

I’m yet to even figure out what I would define as a date. I guess it is whether I like the person enough and if we are alone together and have planned it thusly. So far so good.

Don’t even ask me how I managed to ask this person to spend any amount of time with me voluntarily. I’m still not sure whether I have misjudged our fleeting eye contact and several passing greetings as something more than exactly that. I do have a tendency to mistake good customer service as a come-on. But she agreed to meet me; that’s the important thing.

My grasp of flirting consists mainly of smiling in a goofy fashion at all times in her presence. The description ‘not all there’ comes to mind when I lose sleep reliving these moments, thinking of things much wittier than what I said. God help any women out there who have shown any slight or accidental affection towards me.

In true nerdy form I have been getting my expectations up for something that has probably barely crossed her mind. Yes, I have tried on the clothes I will be wearing when I see her even though that won’t be for three days. I have even, in a painful display of optimism, changed my bed sheets. Not that I have any idea how to get a woman within three-hundred metres of my boudoir. And even if I got her there, I’m not confident I would know what to do. In fact, my actual reasoning that I have prepared my bed is just in case she has too much to drink and needs somewhere to sleep while I curl up in the corner under a throw rug. It’s my version of modern romance.

That right, ladies, get ready for a wild ride, because when it comes to lovers, I like to start with a first course of bumbling, awkward interactions followed by a progressive friendship of about two to three years. That’s how I roll, bitches.