Category: Guides (page 1 of 3)

TD Guide: Self-reinvention

Ok, betches, before you all get your panties in a knot and think “reinvention” is some spiritual new-me shit, or heavens forbid you think I’m giving up drinking, I need you to sit the fuck down and listen. I will never stop drinking. And why would I need a new me when the existing me is already perfect? Exactly. Continue reading

TD Guide: 20 thoughts I had while waiting for a text back

ContextLast night, I went on an excellent 2nd date with a man that I very much enjoy spending time with, mostly because he is gorgeous and has great abs, and because I googled his private high school and tuition starts at $20,000 a year*, but also because I enjoy talking to him? idk SHOOT ME. Today, I texted him a reference to a funny thing we talked about yesterday, and it’s been 2 hours and he hasn’t responded and I’m freaking out and if this sounds like a suicide letter that’s because it is. Anyway writing this post is the only thing keeping me sane so thanks fam. Enjoy! Continue reading

TD Guide: LinkedIn Stalking

Context: When embarking on a dating journey with a new prospect, it is important to thoroughly vet a gentleman to ensure that he is, in fact, a real person who is not catfishing you. Social media is here to help. Allow J to show you the ropes of a successful LinkedIn stalking expedition. Continue reading

TD Guide: Valentine’s Day Horoscopes for the Realist

Context: Ahh, Valentine’s Day. A day of love, affection, and me drinking a lot of NyQuil by myself so I don’t have to endure one second of the sappy Facebook and Instagram posts. What a time to be alive.

If you have a date for Valentine’s Day, congratulations, I hate you. If you don’t have a date, congrats! You can be drunk and bitter just like me. Grab a bottle of wine and start swigging while you read these horoscopes. We’ll all be laughing when these cuffing season couples break up by the Ides of March. Continue reading

TD Guide: Life’s little victories

Context: Hey, readers. I’m not sure if you’ve been able to tell from my erratic posting schedule, or darker than normal humor, or (if you know me personally) lack of life in my eyes – but my job is killing me*. It all started when I cried at the DC DMV (don’t wanna talk about it) and the very sassy DMV lady in charge of my mess told me that my boss didn’t own me (true), and that life was too short to be miserable (fair), and that I could smile in my license picture (I know that; I am no longer able to smile).  Continue reading

TD Guide: Surviving Holiday Conversation

Context: It’s that time of year again! Time to reunite with the family you see exactly one time each year, and become the victim of a seemingly endless stream of questions about what you’re doing with your life? And how is you-kn0w-who* doing, and have you thought about children because, you know, you’re not getting any younger! And then, just as Great Aunt Mildred begins to ask you why you couldn’t be more like your brother, you attempt suicide by stuffing five rolls into your mouth so you’re physically unable to breathe. Ah, the holidays! Continue reading

TD Guide: Should I go on a date with you?

Context: I recently created an OKCupid profile for the lols. My encounters have been… interesting. Here is one in particular that is seared in my memory like a well-done steak. Enjoy!


Hmm. I want to go on a date. Let’s check my messages and see if anyone is interested.

Ah, here’s someone! What’s he got to say?


Hm, fairly bold, but that could be good if he’s cute… let’s check out his profile!


Oh no… wait, there’s more, maybe it will get better?


Ugh. Yachts. Reminds me of Beans.


I’m torn between crying, calling the police, and running away to another country. Maybe some combination of the three?

…but wait – I’m still hungry.

Do you think he’ll pay for my dinner?



TD Guide: Picking up guys at a career fair

One of the biggest perks of my job (aside from them, like, paying me a salary and stuff) is the opportunity to drive down to my alma mater on a fairly regular basis and recruit hot men to join my team so I can have some eye candy while I’m at work.

…I mean, to recruit top talent to the firm so that we can out-perform our competitors and establish our spot as market leader. Is that not what I said? Weird!


Yesterday, I was #blessed with the chance to head down to our Engineering and Technology Career Fair – aka WALLET CENTRAL. Holy shit, y’all, Tinder at this thing was LIT. Everyone was either a wallet-in-training about to graduate with like, an aeronautical nuclear software development degree, or a wallet-already working for the International Computer Defense Bulldozer Analytics Network*. I was in HEAVEN.


*Contrary to popular belief, not my place of employment. Sorry to disappoint.

But, guys… I was there for work. I had THINGS to do. And, as such, I had to get rullll creative with my *flirtation techniques.* Thus, I present to you the Tinder District guide to picking guys up at a career fair. Get your resumes and cover letters ready – this job application could end with love.

  1. Work the expense account
    While you’re talking to a gentleman, casually mention that your business travel means you are given a per diem to spend on whateeeever you want. Dinner, beers, his beers, CONDOMS, snacks, roofies? Before he gets a chance to interject that he must be leaving immediately, use your corporate card as a throwing star to stun him temporarily, then move onto the next victim romantic interest.
  2. Promise them a job
    “Oh, yeah, you only have a 2.3 GPA so you’re scared of landing this job at Google where everyone else who’s applying has somehow surpassed a 4.0? No worries! I got you, dude!! What are your extracurriculars? …no, I don’t think they consider ‘dealin’ crack’ as an extracurricular… but, HECK, with those biceps, you shouldn’t have to do anything but hit the gym! Just out of curiosity, what do you bench?”
    The recruiters may hate you, and the dude may hate you eventually, but a wise coffee mug once told me to “Live for the moment” and you can’t argue with that!
  3. “Accidentally” spill your company swag
    Spot a cute guy walking by who appears to have exactly zero interest in your booth? Time to pull out the big guns. Grab the bag filled with your company’s logo pens (nothing makes me want to work for you more than a free pen!!) and hurl it to the ground. With pens rolling everywhere, homeboy* will get tripped up in no time. Swoop in, catch him in your arms, and forever be his hero. BONUS: every time he’s being difficult with you, you can remind him of the time you saved his life. Crack that whip, ladies!
    *Also innocent bystanders. But, guys. Priorities.
  4. Business card airplanes
    Spot a cutie who’s out of earshot? Luckily, your days in the girl scouts have not gone to waste! Use those origami skills to craft your business card into a teeny tiny paper airplane, then send it sailing across the room to your future wallet. The heft of the paper helps the plane get some serious distance! As long as you don’t, like, poke him in the eye or something, you’re good to go!
  5. When all else fails, play dumb
    If there’s one thing that romantic comedies have taught me about men, it’s that they like feel smart and macho and such. Use this to your advantage by donning your best ‘Sexy Secretary’ outfit (bonus points if your heels are so high that you actually cannot walk!) and strut (/crawl) up to his booth. Make him feel useful and important by asking a series of questions, like “what do you do?” and “what impact is your company having on the economy?” and “wow are you aware how attractive and intelligent you are?” and “wanna fuck in that bathroom?” You know, the basics. Works every time.

works every time

There you have it! Make the most of this recruiting season, little thots. After all, two incomes is better than one!


TD Guide: The Morning After

Sunday, 7:30 AM

I am not in my bed.

This is the third time I have woken up. The first was to pee, the second was to verify the proximity of my phone and purse, and now that my bleary eyes have adjusted to the sunlight, I turn my attention to the man next to me. Who is he? What happened last night?

Carefully, so as to not disturb my slumbering Fabio, I extract my phone from my purse and peruse my text messages in search of answers.


8:15 AM

Checking my phone was a mistake. This has only made things worse. The contents of my text messages over the past 12 hours include the following:
a) A text to a guy I hook up with occasionally (but whose last name I have never cared to learn or save) saying ‘where are you’. No question mark, because I am a fuckboy.
b) A text from a ‘Nate’ saying ‘who are the other people in that group text?’
c) A text from a ‘Real Nate’ saying ‘Why didn’t you add me to the group text?’
d) A group text of myself, ‘Nate,’ ‘Hank,’ and two of my friends. I am the only one who has sent any messages. They are mostly emojis.
e) A notice from Verizon informing me that I have used 90% of my data for the month.
f) Texts from two unsaved numbers, both with some variation of “Hello J it was nice to meet you this is Uber driver have a nice night”

I still don’t know who is next to me, or where I am. Instead of dealing with my issues, I roll over and go back to sleep.


9:30 AM

I have come to the realization that I am hungover. I am hungover and all I really need is a hug. A hug with egg, cheese, and tomato on the inside. And with a bagel on the outside. I need a bagel. I need a bagel more than I’ve ever needed anything.

Why is Fabio still sleeping?! HOW DO MEN DO THIS?!?!


Ok, J. Get it together. Maybe he just needs to be woken up – if you catch my drift. I start rubbing his back. No response. Are you dead, bro?

Will I go to jail if he’s dead? Is jail better than this sleepless purgatory I’m sharing with my attractive captor? So many questions, literally zero answers. I start rubbing harder.

He groans. He’s alive! He’s alive! No jail time for J! My parents will be so proud!! He rolls over and opens one eye.
Man: Good morning, beautiful
J: Good morning…*racking brain for name, anticipating Jimmy Neutron ‘brain blast’ moment, crashing and burning*…dude
M: *oblivious to my internal struggle* How are you doing?

i don't know

What I want to say: I don’t know. I don’t know how I’m doing. I don’t know who you are. I don’t know where I am, and I don’t know how I got here, and I don’t know ANYTHING. Did we have sex? Where is the condom? Did I enjoy it? Did you at least buy me a drink first? How old are you? Are you gainfully employed? WHAT IS YOUR NAME?!?!
What I say: I’m good. Can I have some water?

He just smiles, rolls over, and stands up. While he fetches my sustenance from the kitchen, I channel my inner Sherlock Holmes and do a bit of sleuthing. And by this, I mean I pick up the piece of mail on his bedside table so I can glean his name.


It’s Alex. CLASSIC FUCKBOY NAME. No wonder I went home with this guy. Also, his cable bill is evidently overdue, and he should really do something about that.

Oh, there’s the condom. Ok. Yep. That happened.

I text my roommate.
J: Who’s Alex?
L: Morning sunshine!
L: Lol calm down he works with me. He’s cute. You did good.
J: Are you homeeee
J: I’m hungoverrrrrr
J: Can we get bagels?


Fabio* returns with my water.

*Yes, I am now aware that his name isn’t Fabio, but this makes him sound so much hotter and more exotic than ‘Alex.’ Sue me.

F: Do you want to get breakfast or anything?
J: Nah, I’m not too hungry, haha, ALEX, IF THAT IS YOUR REAL NAME, I think I’m just gonna call an Uber…


I guess I’m not calling that Uber for a while.

I still want a bagel.


TD Guide: Girl’s Night – Male Expectations v. Reality

Ok kiddos. Here’s the sitch. I went on a bomb-ass date on Monday night with some guy from Bumble, involving margaritas at Mission, running around laughing in the rain MONSOON, tequila shots (suggested by my date!! Will he marry me?!), and a make out sesh in front of the patrons of Circa/the passengers in my Uber Pool. Oooops.


And, I was fully intending for today’s post to be a recap of my first ever Bumble date – but I can’t write about it. There was something different, something that makes me not want to cancel our second date (something I’ve done to three separate guys in the past two weeks…), and I’m interested to see where this goes. SO. Let’s talk about ~*girl’z nite*~!!! (Ugh I hate myself)


Girl’s Night (n): An evening where female friends gather to share their recent trials, tribulations, and fuckboy situations over copious amounts of alcohol-, dairy-, and carbohydrate-based goodies. Frequency: at least once per week (such that the females may retain some semblance of sanity). NO BOYS ALLOWED, YA HEAR?!

It’s that last part that really gets the men rattled. All the Ne-MAN-derthals are over there, scratching their stomachs, mouths hanging open, going “what could they possibly be doing that we aren’t allowed to see?” And when these boys start wondering, things get a bit out of hand. Thus, I present to you a guide to Girl’s Night: Male Expectations v. Reality


Male Expectation: Victoria’s Secret called, and it wants its inventory back! We’ve all heard that girls dress to impress each other, so these ladies must be pulling out all the stops – lacy nighties, matching bra and panty sets, that makeup that looks like you’re not wearing any, but actually took 45 minutes to make it look that way – exactly. And they’re probably wearing heels. Yep, DEFINITELY in heels. Mmm dat ass.


Reality: Whoever said women dress to impress each other, not men, has never actually met a female. When women get together in the comfort of someone’s home, we look like fucking sea creatures. We’re like, actively ripping holes in our own sweatpants, happily dumping wine over our heads and letting it drip down the front of our oversized t-shirts, and smearing chocolate all over our faces (antioxidants??). And don’t even get me started on our hair – immediately upon walking into the hallowed venue, it seizes up into Medusa-esque dreadlocks, ready to strangle any boy who may dare to interrupt us. Hey, don’t say I didn’t warn ya!



Male Expectation: “Hello, darlings, welcome to my humble abode! Here, I present to you this artistically arranged bowl of eight gourmet cheeses and three imported meats and eight toppings – well, accoutrements, because we’re fancy. There is also a selection of carbohydrates, but don’t eat those, just pretend to want to eat them. And here’s a drizzle of local honey, because it’s allergy season, and – oh! – the wine is almost done decanting, dearest, so please, help yourself.”


Reality: Four blocks of cheese (from Trader Joe’s, all less than $4) sit on the table. Nineteen bottles of wine (all from Trader Joe’s, less than $3) sit next to them. There’s probably sugar of some sort. And the females are ANIMALS. The following is an actual scene from my most recent girl’s night:
MC: RAAAAAHHHHHH *eats goat cheese with her bare hands* *shovels dessert out of its tupperware container* MC HUNGRY!! MC SMASH!!!!
J: *No words, just pouring wine from multiple bottles into mouth at once*
Lo: *Eating a block of cheese like a sandwich* MMMPHHMMMMPPHHH

We’re beauty and we’re grace.

more cheese


Male Expectation: The females begin the night by braiding each others’ hair while giggling. They then transition into painting each others’ nails, still giggling. Then, as the clock strikes the witching hour, the women simultaneously remove all but their undergarments and begin a pillow fight, all while – you guessed it! – giggling.


L: Oh my god no you’re going to die what are you- NO J STOP THAT RIGHT NOW!
J: *crashes into floor, spread eagle*
L: ………
Hey L? Can you bring me some wine? I can’t move.
*Somewhere in the distance, my chiropractor rubs his hands together greedily*



Male Expectation: “Oh, my gosh! Johnny from Tinder is, like, so CUTE! I think he’s the one! Here, let’s read a Cosmo article about the 101 sexiest things a girl can do for a guy, so that we stay informed! It is important to stay up to date so that we can keep our men pleasured and happy! Ooh, and then I can tell you about the beer cheese dip I’m going to make Johnny for dinner tomorrow while he watches sports and I remain in the kitchen where I belong!”

Woman In Kitchen Following Recipe On Digital Tablet

Reality: “…omg, his dick was how small? HAHA. See how long you can get him to keep paying for your shit and pleasuring you without you touching his penis, then ghost. More wine?”


Don’t underestimate the power of a good girl’s night, boys. You ain’t seen nothing yet.


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