Month: August 2011

How I’m Making Sure I Never Date Again #598

The dating site that I torture myself with on the regular use has a fun feature that’s perfect for wasting otherwise perfectly productive hours of your day figuring out if you and your potential match agree on any number of things.

What? You're kidding? You ALSO like David Sedaris and Love, Actually? Shut up! AND you're just as comfortable at home as your are at a bar, let's do it!

They have what appears to be billions of multiple choice questions that ask everything from the relationship-related “Do you want kids,” to the weird “Would you be uncomfortable if a pet saw your masturbating” to the patriotic “Do you believe that people have a civic duty to vote,” to the under-nuanced “What do you think is the best way for the government to handle the budget,” to the playful “would you rather make out in a tent or in Paris.”

And then there was this question. And I knew I shouldn’t have answered it because it was only going to make me sad. But it was 11 p.m. and I had half a glass of wine in me, so I answered it anyway.

He told me it was going to be a bad date. I should have listened.

“Do you think that women have an obligation to keep their legs shaved.”

I said no.

Guess who said yes. Every. Single. Guy.

Now, here’s the thing that I wonde–an OBLIGATION? An OBLIGATION is what happens when someone pays your or blackmails you. An OBLIGATION comes when you give birth to someone or accidentally kill their pet. An OBLIGATION comes after you swear a blood or Hippocratic oath.

An OBLIGATION does not allow for one to take into effect things like skin sensitivity or time constraints or the desire not to waste water or ‘oh whatever I’m wearing pants to work anyway, I’ll get to this later’ or yes, i’ll just spend extra $$$ on tools to alter my body so that I look as much like a preteen as possible.

All that being said, I totes shave. But still. An OBLIGATION?

~sigh~

Also, placenta-eating is on the rise. Just an FYI.

What do you think? Do women have an obligation to behave thusly? What else are women obligated to do? And who wrote that contract? What about the guys–what must they do to their bodies to be dateable? Let us know in the comments!

Can’t believe that the delightful wit who wrote this is single? See moar reasons why here! But also see why she won’t lower the bar here.

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For Mor-eo Oreo: Follow The Oreo Experience on Twitter (@oreoexperience)
Leave a comment here or at any of the above and let us know what you think!
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An Open Letter to Black Guy Behind Nivea’s “Racist” Ad

Dear Alleged Black Guy Behind the Nivea ad,

I was shocked and appalled when I saw this …

…And then read about the hubbub that soon followed.

What on earth is offensive about this? Black men with goatees and natural hair are totes uncivilized. I mean just look at these cretins.

Imagine waking up to that mess every day. Barf!

They're only giving him that award so he'll stop shooting up ho's.

Guess who's NOT coming to dinner...that is the guy from that movie, right?

shameful

Sure he was smart and classy enough to say this quote: "I prefer to be true to myself, even at the hazard of incurring the ridicule of others, rather than to be false, and to incur my own abhorrence. " But jeez! You think he'd have enough sense to not look so ridic when he said it.

If the rumors are true, potential black ad exec, you, sir, are my hero. I have been trying to explain this simple concept for like ever! RBP are scrrrry! I have been working to put this in words for years now. Thank you for putting into easy-to-understand pictures.

Equally smart are the differences between the white version of this ad and the Oreo-tastic one. Of which, there are 3.

  1. The white corpse face is actually a lot more unkempt than the black one and also doesn’t have eyeballs. This makes it more extreme and less human looking. It really does look like he’s playing with Buffalo Bills’ leftovers.
  2. The RBP face is angry…you know, like RBP are. And has eyes, so it actually looks like a person–the kind of person that with the help of God and all the angels, I will never be.
  3. Also, you didn’t say that the white dude was uncivilized, just that he looked messy. Good call on calling out the black guy’s entire character, while understanding that when a white person looks like they were beaten to death with the unkempt stick, that it’s just a bad day.

Yup. Three.

And look, I get it. You have way too much to do than consider the potential ramifications of the images you are creating and asking society to get on board with. I’m sure that between you, your team, the artists who did the concept art, all of your assistants and production personnel, the executives at Nivea itself, their production team, the photographer and the team who took these photos and the digital artists who made it all pretty, you just don’t have enough time to say “hmmm, I wonder if this is sending a weird message.”

I mean, I barely had time to type that and I’m no where near the busy-ness level of a big time ad mogul. And as we discussed in this video, people just have too much shiz to do to worry about EVERY LITTLE THING they say or do.

Thanks again for keeping the Oreo fight going!!

Have an awesome weekend. Maybe I’ll see you at the club?

PS. Do NOT worry about all the flack over this. You’re in good company! Here are some other ads that got their creators in trouble when they just shouldn’t have!

Love,

TheOreoExperience

Here’s the Dove ad that turns you into a pretty white chick if you’re unfortunate enough to start off a a cute black girl. Look how nice the blonde is! Who wouldn’t want to be her?

Here’s Sony explaining how neat it was that their PSP now comes in white.


Here’s documentary by Klondike about a woman who married the biggest douchebag in creation reminding us how horrible it is to have to listen to women talk. But the good news is that you get a shiny ice cream if you can endure for just a few nut-crushing seconds.

Folks got all in a tizzy because Dolce & Gabanna dared to show women what we might wear right before being roofied and invited to the local gangbang.

And Nike was  good remind us that while athletes can be lauded for their dedication to perfection, their endurance, their years of focus, determination and self-sacrifice, if they’re a lady, we can always applaud them for something else! (Oh and women are happy to work out because they LOVE SHOPPING!!!!–read the text if you don’t believe it’s true).

And poor Burger King got raked across the coals for clarifying where the sandwich goes?

 

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What do you think? Are ads like this too much? Or just what we need to keep the self loathing in place?

Let us know in the comments!

******

For Mor-eo Oreo: Follow The Oreo Experience on Twitter (@oreoexperience)
Leave a comment here or at any of the above and let us know what you think!

Helping The Help: An FAQ for White People to the Rescue Movies

The race-tastic period drama The Help opened this week and is on its way toward cementing what has been an unofficial film genre for years: The “White People to the Rescue” movie.

Besties.

(I did try coming up with a better name for this class of film, but nothing really worked… “Benevolent Colonialist” “Minorities Really Need Help” “Period Film that Obliterates the Agency of People of Color.” Suggestions are welcome).

The Help joins films like The Blind Side, Radio, The Soloist, Avatar, Dances with Wolves, The Last Samurai, Finding Forrester, Hancock, Wildcats, The Gridiron Gang, Friday Night Lights and even Transformers 2 (in that movie, the black Autobots were the only ones in the species who couldn’t f*cking read) to remind us how crappy being of color is and how those unlucky enough to not sunburn really need someone of Irish/Welsh/Polish/freckled descent to save them from that fate.

All movie genres have specific rules that must be followed. Westerns must be leisurely paced and take place in wide open spaces. Thrillers must misdirect. The Saw and Hostel movies must make you uncomfortable, not because of what’s on screen, but because someone thought up that shit in the first place. Comedies must feature a bunch of douchebags behaving unredeemably, but still getting impossibly hot girls in the process. Chick-flicks must make being a single female look like a fate worse for a character then ending up in the Hostel franchise.

Kill them, monkey. I'll never tell.

White People to the Rescue movies have their own rules, too. So if you’re wondering if what you’re watching is a WPTTR movie or just a thinly-written drama, bring this FAQ along to help you suss it out.

Whoa! There are minorities in titular roles in this film. Dose that make it a WPTTR movie?

Not necessarily. It could be a British movie. Or something Tyler Perry just threw up.

There are black people in the movie, but mostly white people in the audience. Is this a WPTTR movie?

Likely so. Movies that are actually about RBP are scary and intimidating. I’m sure that when BoyzinDaHOoD (that’s how you spell it, right?) came out, there were drive-bys in the theater. White people have learned to stay away.

Wait, I thought WPTTR movies were about black people?

Incorrect. Black people (or Native Americans or the Na’vi or Latino kids who just want to DANCE!) in WPTTR movies are really just foils for non-colored protagonists.

Not those kinds of foils. But man, I would love to watch a good fencing movie!

The Help is about Skeeter figuring out how to become a famous writer by making black ladies very uncomfortable (but it’s for their own good!!). Avatar is about Sam Worthington turning out to be a better Na’vi than all the other Na’vi. But we need to see the Na’vi so that we understand how deficient they are at being what they are. Dances With Wolves is about Kevin Costner getting a sweet Native muffin basket because he’s just way cooler than her boring-ass Sioux family and friends who didn’t try to genocide her people. The Blind Side is about Sandra Bullock learning that she is as awesome as she thought she was because she forced a kid who didn’t have a natural proclivity for football into being an NFL star while making him neglect developing other academic skills that might serve him well when his body explodes from weekly poundings.

That last sentence sounded kind of sexual. “Weekly poundings?” Did you really mean to say that?

 Look, I just ate two donuts. I’m a little distracted by the high of the sugar rush and the guilt of gluttony.

Two donuts? Did you really need both of them?

Yes.

The villain in this movie seems layered. Is this a WPTTR movie?

No. While audiences often enjoy a challenging bad guy who seems like they actually have a point to make, that is not the case in WPTTR movies. These movies often deal with very icky themes like racism and colonialism and those are uncomfortable. So the villain has to be created in such a way as to make it seem like those things don’t happen anymore. Their racism has to be blind, bold and violent.

In The Help, for example, bad-girl Hilly sounds stupid and mean when she suggests that black people have different diseases than whites and that’s why they need separate but equal bathrooms. And she is beyond cruel when she smiles after seeing a black lady get beaten with great big sticks.  Also, she needlessly says variations on the n-word as awkwardly as possible.

“Great big sticks?”

Not an innuendo.

Why shortchange audiences from having interesting villains?

Because if racism looks like how it does in these movies, then obviously, no one is racist or even prejudiced at all even a little bit. No reasonable person is going to cop to relating to the baddies in these movies.

If the racism in these movies were subtle or obscured by policy, semantics or tradition as crazy commie liberals say that it is in real life, it might cause audiences to wonder if their prejudices are worth examining. And no one wants to pay $14 to feel guilty about something. These donuts, par example, were free.

Goodness! The herorine/hero in this movie is a real hottie/sweet piece of man-ass! And they seem to be going on an emotional arc where they learn to be a better person. Is this a WPTTR movie?

 No. Though one of the basic tenants of screenwriting is that your protagonist must…protagonate (ie. learn something and change because of it) over the course of the story, they MUST NOT DO THIS in a WPTTR movie. In The Help, Skeeter starts off headstrong, confident and not racist. And she ends…headstrong, confident and not racist.

Likewise, main characters usually have to overcome one of their own issues and have some sort of comeuppance in order to protagonate in the first place. This bit of storytelling is also often omitted in WPTTR movies.

The Help isn’t a story about a woman who believes life to be hunky dory and finds out that it isn’t. She is from the start, not thrilled with the stifling traditions her town is steeped in, so no change there.

This isn’t a story about a woman who thinks she’s being appropriate but learns she’s mean. From go, she’s very nice to her friends maids and remains so throughout the movie.

This isn’t a movie about a woman who’s afraid of something and faces her fear. As soon as we see Skeeter, she’s not afraid to ask for a job, a high-level writing assignment or to blow off a potential boyfriend.

What did you say?!?!?

“Off!” I said “blow OFF” her potential boyfriend.

My bad, I was really distracted. That donut business sounded like a good idea. I’m on my third.

Did you really need three?

Yes.

Fair enough.

Om nom nom. What were you saying about Skeeter?

Right! She suffers no consequences for putting the maids in an awkward situation and doesn’t actually grow or change as a person because she is for all intents and purposes, an already awesome person.

Looks good, doesn't it?

Okay, fine, but surely that doesn’t happen in The Blind Side, Dangerous Minds, Avatar or Dances with Wolves?

Sandy B. is headstrong, confident and not racist. And she ends…headstrong, confident and not racist.

Michelle Pfeiffer is headstrong, confident and not racist. And she ends…headstrong, confident and not racist.

Sam Worthington starts out giving a shit about the Na’vi and ends the movie still giving a shit about the Na’vi, only now he’s better than all of them.

You didn’t mention DWW.

I know, I think we get the point.

Hmmm, what about the good looking part? You forgot about that.

Oh right!

All of this spectacular sense of self is wrapped up in an attractive, but not tooooooo attractive package so that no one is intimidated by her looks. While Emma Stone, Sandra Bullock and Michelle “MS Word will correct the spelling of my last name for you” Pfeiffer are lovely, they are not treated like the untouchably gorgeous heroines of other movies. So they seem like everyday folk. Which makes ladies feel like they could be those ladies and dudes feel like they’d actually have a chance. Audiences like to feel good about themselves.

Is it weird that I think Ben Stiller is one of the sexiest men in Hollywood?

No. Not at all. And I will fight you to the death for him.

I want to eat his face off.

This movie has white people, but also a protagonist of color. Is it a WPTTR movie?

No. Having a main character of color will basically turn a nice period piece into a Tyler Perry joint.

Wait, you’ve spoken pretty completely about some specific deets in The Help. Did you…actually go watch it?

Of course!!! Regular viewing of WPTTR movies reminds Oreos why we try so hard to escape our dark fate. I can’t wait for the Criterion edition!

Have you seen The Help? Did you read the book? Are you going to? Let us know what you think of the film, the genre, the handsome Mr. Stiller or anything else in the comments!

Being historically black isn’t all bad, of course. Be sure to check out 8 Other Awesome Things about Slavery!

And just for poops and giggles, get the hit song White People to the Rescue! stuck in your head! Sing it at the office. Everyone will love it!

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For Mor-eo Oreo: Follow The Oreo Experience on Twitter (@oreoexperience)
Leave a comment here or at any of the above and let us know what you think!

Racist or Just Busy?

Politicians have this way of saying things that to the untrained ear sound “mean” or “racist” or “really really dumb.”

But I don’t think it’s that sinister. What do you think? Check out the video and then let us know in the comments!

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For Mor-eo Oreo: Follow The Oreo Experience on Twitter (@oreoexperience)
Leave a comment here or at any of the above and let us know what you think!

Sappy Songs on a Sunday

Next on my list of ways to procrastinate instead of just writing the pages that I’m supposed to hand over to people tomorrow (sorry, M and J!) is to make a playlist of songs that I love…but that also make me cry a little bit.

I’ve already exhausted watching episodes of the BBC hit “How Clean is Your House,” making my own bathroom cleanser from scratch, annoying my cats and convincing myself not to go to the Cicada Club tonight (is anyone going to the Cicada Club tonight?). So this iTunes journey seems like the next best thing.

Here’s what I have so far! These are some of the songs that will cause me to show up for 8:30 a.m. production meetings with smudged mascara because I couldn’t just had to listen to them as I pulled into the parking lot at work.

Tom Waits – San Diego Serenade. This song gets five out of five tear stains. Just so lovely and evocative and simply lyriced.

Jeff Buckley’s Hallelujah. All of the versions of this song make me just want to slit my wrists they’re so gorgeous. But this one is the first one I heard. That’s not true. The first one I heard was done by a men’s a capella group from an Ivy League College. This is the second one I heard. And it is glorious!

Tim Minchin – If I Didn’t Have You. This is one of my favorite pieces of art ever. It sounds flippant at first, but then is just wow. Poignant and lovely and true. Also, he’s an Ozzie, so he pronounces the word “drama” as “dramer” which is equally as awesome as the song.

This Song from Next to Normal – Maybe. If you haven’t seen this play. See it, but be prepared to develop a drinking problem immediately afterwards. It’s beautiful, but depressing as eff.

Elaborate Lives from Aida. I know, there’s a black person in this video. But she’s dating a white dude, so it’s all good. Also, she’s Heather Headley who is hands down amazing. And she GETS TO KISS ADAM PASCAL. I would probably give every thing that I’ve ever owned or will to re-make this video with Adam. He did touch my shoulder once. I know he thought it was as special as I did. There are 46,000 views of this video. I’m pretty sure that 45,900 are mine .

Part of Your World. Yup.  A song about a girl dreaming to be something she’s not. How could that not move this Oreo to tears?

Also, the lyric “…How many wonders can one cavern hold…” Am I the only one who thinks that’s secretly dirty?

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What songs make you tear up? Let us know in the comments!

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For Mor-eo Oreo: Follow The Oreo Experience on Twitter (@oreoexperience)
Leave a comment here or at any of the above and let us know what you think!

Reasons Any Offspring I May Produce Will Be Embarassed of Me #347

I Get Way Too Emotional at Too Many Movies

I’m not shy to admit to some of the… less refined films that I enjoy.

Two Weeks Notice will always get me out of a funk. Zoolander makes me melt. I’m pretty sure that My Best Friends’ Wedding did something silly like “make me believe in love again.” I recently paid more than I should have to download my own personal copy of The Core. And this VHS copy of the operetta Amahl and the Night Visitors is a holiday must see for me!

That's right! THIS happens in The Core. Thanks to the stopped rotation of the Earth's core, a lightning storm turns the STONE Colisuem into a giant electrical conductor!! How can you not love a film with balls like that!

There’s something to be said for bad movies. They’re like old old friends who keep you company. Your favorite lines become inside jokes and you always know what to expect. In that way, they’re not really bad at all. They may not be good, but they’re good to you. It’s like a functionally codependent relationship without the having to explain why you still haven’t broken up to your friends who roll their eyes whenever they see you together.

I’m not saying that I’m adding the movie I watched this weekend to the bad=good list. But I am saying that I got that little knot in my gut that happens when I care about what’s going on on screen.

For various reasons, including a very serious food coma that rendered me unable to do much else besides lay there and take it, I found myself putting a copy of Disney’s 1993 inspiring sports movie Cool Runnings.

Yep. That Cool Runnings.

You remember this movie, right? Jamaican bobsled team led by John Candy to Olympic fame and stardom? Lots of bright colors, dreds and exclamations of “Ya Mon!”

This movie should not have made me cry!

And it totally did.

SPOILER ALERT!!!!! (I know I’m 18 years late to this party, but hey, you never know who hasn’t seen it).

After lots and lots of setbacks and victories, the Jamaican team is finally in a place where they, with their small amount of experience, big hearts and rickety bobsleigh might actually win this thing!! They’ve won over the hearts and minds of the originally-skeptical crowd. They’ve made their parents love them again. The whole of Jamaica (or at least the whole of this one bar in Jamaica) is waiting with held and baited breath to see what happens when the four men get into their bobsled for one. Last. Race.

And then the unthinkable happens.

As they race around the track at breakneck speeds, their sled pops a screw and breaks. It slams into the wall of the track, flips onto its side and drags the helpless Jamaicans across the hard, unfeeling ice before running out of steam and into a wall.

That’s also when TheOreoExperience realizes she has tears in her eyes.

I also realize I have a cat in my bed staring me in the face wondering why I'm crying and why she hasn't been fed in the last five minutes. She doesn't look like this, but has kind of the same terrifyingly intense look.

I KNOW what’s going to happen. I KNOW that everyone’s gonna be okay. You’re not just gonna murder your four main characters and roll the credits at the end of a Disney family film.

But it still got me.

The shot lasts just long enough to make you think that Disney is about to betray the eff out of your relationship with them and make these guys not be okay. There’s a shot of the finish line that shows that they were so so so close to what they thought they wanted. And there’s a slow clap when they stand up and walk their sled across the line.

A part of me slow-clapped, too. (At least on the inside)

To the actors for bringing emotion enough to their faces and voices to off set 89 other minutes of “Ya Mon!” and “Kiss my lucky egg!” To the director for wrangling a moment of real feeling in an easy-to-phone-in family film. And to the writer for crafting the world in the first place. And to humanity for being moved by moments like this at all. (The film made $70 million, which back in ’93, was, I think, pretty good. At any rate, it made 4 times its money back)

The awful truth is that I’m all squishy on the inside, terribly romantic and really love that writing words down and/or putting them up on screen can make people feel anything at all. It’s kind of a neat gift and one I am very thankful for being able to do and experience.

That or that food coma was more intense than I thought and this was all part of some insulin-crash-inspired third-life crisis.

So, apologies to any future progeny** for getting all teary at Hotel for Dogs 6 and waxing poetic about its implications on the wonderfulness of the human condition.

** For the record, I am not expecting any progeny now… possibly ever. Carrying around a tiny creature that poops inside of you? No thank you!

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For Mor-eo Oreo: Follow The Oreo Experience on Twitter (@oreoexperience)
Leave a comment here or at any of the above and let us know what you think!

If You Can’t Say Something Nice…

I just read a book should be required reading. I’m going to go out on a limb and say that it’s as crucial as the classics, as informative as an encyclopedia and as page-turning as [insert name of popular graphic novel franchise here].

I’m talking about The Game – the expose into the society of Pick Up Artists by Neil Strauss.

Fresh off the heels of something disappointing with some dude, a good friend told me to read it. This is a friend who lives by the “rules” of dating. I don’t have time to wait X number of days to call someone or not return emails so as to appear “unavailable” and I kinda like the ol’ ones and twos too much to sport a fake chastity belt so that Mr. RightAfterIFinishWatchingModernFamilyIt’sAReallyGoodShow!! thinks that I’m a good mother-virgin-whore. So when she suggested I read this book, I was reticent to do so.

Listen, Phil. I know you're married...and not real. But you know, if anything changes... I'll be right here

If you haven’t read it, here’s the sitch: The book follows the author as he descends into the world of Pickup Artistry. Basically, these dudes get together and perfect elaborate games, schemes and tricks to make women sleep with them. They keep score, they try to “sarge” as many “two and three sets” as possible while “pea-cocking” at clubs. There’s a whole lingo and costumes and general douchebaggery.

This is one of the "masters" of the art of pick up. He gets girls. Lots of them. And they let him touch them. Ah well, everyone has a type, I guess, right?

The worst part of the story is that the tricks seem to work. Hot women fall for this madness and make life more difficult for regular looking heady girls like.. um.. you know, no one in particular.

One of the favorite tricks goes like this: Step One: Find a woman you’re interested in talking to. Step Two: Insult her. She will feel the need to defend her honor to you and will then suck up to you to prove to you that she’s not mean/ugly/smelly/needy/bitchy/boring or whatever it is you told her she was. Step 3: Show here where you keep your meat and two veg.

Though idk why women would be insecure. Not like this is part of the beauty standard or anything. Also heehee, you can see her buns!!!

There’s also a bunch of stuff about hypnotizing people on the spot and duping girls into threesomes by pretending you know fuck all about Eastern massage techniques.

I read the book, fascinated by its exploration of hubris and pathos and certain that no regular person would ever think that this was the way to try and relate to other human beings.

And then I started paying attention to the way strangers talked to me.

And then I wanted to weep for all of mankind.

I don’t know that the three men I’m about to describe were actually and actively trying to hit on me. And maybe they really did just want me to go away. But there was something about the cavalier way that they were so super rude that it made me think they might believe this is how you’re supposed to talk to people.

A few nights ago, I was at a networking event. I was meant to meet someone there and they hadn’t arrived, so I was standing there feeling very awkward and trying not to look like it. I remembered one thing that the book DID suggest that is actually just helpful for starting conversations with strangers in general.

It described the benefit of greeting strangers with something other than “hey, what’s your name?” That is a boring way to start a conversation and makes people feel like you’re going to stand there forever and chat them up. Instead, they suggest, start with either a fun question about the event/picture you’re both looking at/drink you’re both drinking, etc. Or to ask them a question that they might be able to answer. This changes the interaction from interview to conversation immediately.

I approached a couple of guys and asked if they knew the host of the party. We were all invited via email list and didn’t know the guy throwing the shindig personally. They said they didn’t and we joked about how he might be a ninja or a wraith or some sort of rogue operative. It was fun and light and everyone was having a perfectly good time.

I asked the guys what they did. It was an industry networking event, after all, and so questions about the industry should be expected.

“Ugh!” one of the guys said. “I hate that question. It’s so fake and LA. I always ask ‘what do you do creeeeativelyyyyyyy?’ That’s way better.”

“Oh, I said. Well, it was great meeting you, then.” And I turned and walked away.

About 45 seconds later, I found myself at the beginning of another conversation. This time with a photographer. We got to talking about models and photoshopping and I said something about feminism and photography and he said:

“Well, if you’re such a feminist, then why are you wearing a short skirt?”

“I’m wearing this because I like it,” I snapped back. “I think it’s cute and fun and it’s comfortable. And, it was nice meeting you.”

And I turned and walked away.

That night I checked out ye olde dating profile (I really should take an effing break from that shiz) and someone messaged me and said that he just couldn’t understand why that was my favorite movie. It’s just so maudlin and over the top and dull.

Not dull.

Though he did get points for using the word maudlin, I was like: “What’s with all the insults??”

There’s a huge difference between saying “I hear there’s some contention in feminist circles over traditionally “girlie” clothing. What do you think about that?” And an accusation of being a liar.

If you’re taking the time to email me via my dating profile, why tell me that my fave movie is stupid?

And even if the weird black girl is hurting your game with the models (and oh, there were models) who I’m positive were just waiting to rip your pants off, why be a dick about it?

Conversation is not a competition.

And Sunset Boulevard is an excellent film.

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Does being a jerk at first blush really ingratiate you to most of the population?

What do you think of the rules? Do you play by them? How’s that going? Let us know in the comments!

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For Mor-eo Oreo: Follow The Oreo Experience on Twitter (@oreoexperience)
Leave a comment here or at any of the above and let us know what you think!