GAYLETTER

GAYLETTER

Ask a Bitch #11

Relationship advice from a real bitch

Last week my very first piece of real hate mail, from an ex, was passed onto me. I feel so official! I’d say let’s celebrate by diving right in and seeing everything he had to say, but I’ll save you the headache of looking over crazy person chicken scratch and just show you the choice bits.

 

“I wanted to write to say congrats. It’s amazing to see how this whole thing has grown. I just moved back to NYC, but even while I was gone I’d still read GAYLETTER every week.

Ask a Bitch is really amusing. But I confess, I find it pretty devoid of meaning, so much so that my views tend to be the polar opposite of the columnist. He’s kind of funny, in a way. But I definitely can’t relate.

I did however relate to the ex-boyfriend he described in #8 though. The description of him reminded me of myself in my mid-twenties. I didn’t put things on my walls with thumb tacks though (I just used double-sided tape)…

One thing in the description was exactly true for me though. I did cheat on the guy I was dating during that time. It was the only time in my life I’ve ever cheated on someone, and I really regret it. Because I should’ve just left him. Instead I stayed with a guy I didn’t love out of guilt and the fear of being alone. 

But anyway, if that relationship taught me anything, it was that if I must be lonely, I think I’d rather be alone. The guy I was dating didn’t really understand me, and eventually I realized that he didn’t care to, because never listened to me. He was sort of like the boyfriend equivalent of Nickelodeon: always colorful, very bright, but ultimately devoid of substance.  

So while I can appreciate a guy who’s funny and clever, I think the most important thing that enables us to connect is depth. You want a boyfriend? Learn the rules, and play the game. You want to find love? Look for a guy who touches your soul, and mate with him. “

 

Hey Superfan,

 

First off:

 

 

Secondly, thanks for that long-winded, carefully crafted short story! I, on the other hand, will keep this short because I have to go take another nap. I want to thank you for taking the time to address that creative writing exercise on MY column. Your review helped me in so many ways, that I’m actually at a loss of words to show my true gratitude. So let me show you through pictures how many uses your letter has brought to my life:

 

A window cleaner!

Public bathroom toilet paper!

A dustpan!

A church fan!

A coaster!

 

Keep them coming. Times are tough and I’ve run out of wee wee pads for my dog, Stevie Nicks. Stevie thanks you too!

 

Q: Bitch, I want to ask you a personal question about yourself. Do you think you have an attractive asshole? I don’t think I do and I get embarrassed by it. I go to great lengths to make sure a guy doesn’t look at my hole before he fucks me and I’m running out of excuses. x Shyhole Jolie-Pitt

 

A: Hey Shyhole Lebeouf, what constitutes an ugly asshole? What does yours look like that makes you so turned off by it? I’m imagining it looks like Rodney Dangerfield, or Gollum from Lord Of The Rings for anyone to feel this strongly about it. Do you have photos? ACTUALLY DO NOT SEND ME PHOTOS. Has someone in your past expressed an utter disgust by it? If so, that’s insanely rude…was it that weirdo short story writer from above?

 

I’m pretty stumped by this one, because in my opinion there are no pretty or ugly assholes out there. Beauty is in the eye of… Wrong analogy. Listen, in the end, assholes are assholes, that’s why we name our exes after them!

 

Also, everyone that grimaces at this question can go fuck themselves, because anyone that has not seen every inch of their own body are either liars, or too poor to afford a handheld mirror or base model camera phone.

Freak of the Week

 

 

Mark Healy on Roseanne COULD’VE got it. (RIP actor Glenn Quinn). The strategically placed holes in stonewash denim and the way he just does nothing at all (I think he literally filmed from the couch for most of season 6). Fully convinced that this no job and greasy hair, chain smoking, pizza eating, flannel wearing sexy Oscar The Couch was my soulmate.