If it were up to me, live love laugh plaques would not exist. I always thought you’d try and hide being scandalously obnoxious, but apparently these weirdo wannabe inspirators love to rub your face in their approximately ten square feet dullness. It is these overtly optimistic people that are to be avoided at all costs. Namastay away, if you will. Unless they’re offering you food; it’s probably grossly healthy, but it’s still food, so just kindly accept without making eye contact and then run for the musically soundless hills. 

Now, I can already hear you asking: “Why are you such a pessimist, a rude bitch even, Laurien? They are only trying to make the world a better place!” The answer is very easy: obviously you don’t know me, and you should probably scroll down the blog page a bit more and read some of these other posts. It’s not that I ònly hate these wishing-they-were-Julia-Roberts-types, I hate almost everything! So don’t take it personally! Because that’s something I hate, too! 

The thing is, I don’t like live love laugh people because they 1) almost certainly never live or, god forbid, laugh, and 2) you can’t explain to these lovely people what the real reason is you’re still single, and unfortunately it’s mostly these people that keep asking you why you’re still a loose-moraled woman with the vocabulary of a well-educated though foul-mouthed construction worker. Well, I guess there’s no turning back now. Buckle up, Linda, because I’m about to explain to you why there is no ring on my ridiculously photogenic finger, and you’re not going to like it.

Throughout the centuries, women have been raised to be quiet, beautiful, and constantly available. First of all, the beautiful thing is bullshit, because everyone is beautiful. Fuck your conformist ideas of what people should look like, but I’ll get back to that another time. The truth is: the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ line is the biggest lie ever told. It is definitely, inarguably you. I’m sick and tired of always having to listen to ‘You know what it is, love? You’re just so damn picky/demanding/straightforward/independent/etc. and boys just don’t like that.’ You know what it is, Linda? Girls deserve to be asked out on a real date, and not just be sent pictures of genitalia – that are, by the way, not even close to being photogenic. They’re dicks, they’re not fucking Hockney paintings. Girls deserve to be asked their opinion or to be assumed to have a brain. We actually invested a lot more time into developing our minds than we did in developing secondary sex characteristics. We are out here trying to build a life of our own. We are out here making 70 cents on the dollar, so how is it you still think we have the time and the money to be educating those fools? Ain’t nobody got time to be telling boys how they should speak before sending nudes, how they should treat us like equals instead of telling us to not worry our pretty little minds. Our minds, much like us, are not just pretty. You just watch what they can do. 

So that’s why I’m single, darling Linda. Hate to break it to you, love, but these are the boys your generation has raised, and you’ve done a shit job. 

Disclaimer: obviously I’m a huge dramaqueen, and like always, I don’t mean ALL boys. There are still nice guys out there, because there are still good people out there. Just know that if you’re offended by this, you’re probably one of the ones I’m talking about. Sorry.