Wilding Out

My back hurts just looking at this. (Gif from Giphy) If you haven’t heard about throuples, it’s all the rage these days. A throuple is a couple but with three people, because two people getting along isn’t hard enough, apparently. I have to admit, I’m intrigued. So when I saw a show about a throuple on Netflix called ‘You Me Her’, I binge-watched the whole thing.

We’re all unique in a way, but there are 8 billion of us, and we’re not the unique little snowflakes that we think. Those weird little pecadilos that we do, that we think society would side eye us for and then walk away slowly, sideways for — we all do them. Sometimes the things we think are ‘weird’ are more common than cocaine on a dollar bill (there’s also urine…don’t Google what else is on those things).

I hate the phrase ‘Don’t be a pussy’. Not because of the word pussy, I love vulgarity when it’s used in the right ways. I loathe it because it’s axiomatically incorrect. They’re telling you not to be a woose— but wookie cookies are no wimps. This mortal portal can push 9 lbs of screaming debt through them successfully. If that wasn’t wild enough, they go back into their original shape like they’re one of those stress balls we crumple up and then rebound to their former, squish-free glory.

Life can be a messy and chaotic clusterfuck sometimes. One day, you’re slaying it; you’re super on the ball, nailing everything and checking things off your to-do list like you’re a methed-out Cinderella with animal minions. The next day, you forget to eat and somehow manage to burn water. One day you successfully cleared your pings-every-two-minutes inbox and manage to both grocery shop and cook a meal after instead of buying a hot-n-ready meal for lazy bitches.

If you’re wondering what a flying fuck looks like…here it is. (My friend Mike bought me this; he said I had to have it, and he was 100% correct.) I suppose we should start with what a flying fuck is. It’s a sexual position where you take a running leap (akin to flying) onto or into your partner. Quite frankly, I don’t recommend it. Did you know that penises can break? They can; ergo my aforementioned flying-fuckian anti-advice. But in this scenario, it just means give a fuck.

People have told me that I’m an old soul. Although that might just be because I’m old before my time and love putting on my grandpa pants and making a shaking-fist-at-sky rant. And here’s another one: what in the darnded dagnambit hell happened to TV and movies? If you’re doubting my old-timey rantiness, let me prove it.

Emojis are emotional hieroglyphics. They were originally a way to denote the feelings that should be associated with a text message, which lacks the social cues our caveman ancestors had. When Japanese artist Shigetaka Kurita invented emojis in 1999, all of a sudden we had digital Sherlockian clues to go along with our text. I wonder what Mr Kurita thinks of their evolution, especially the eggplant one. Emojis have changed meaning since 1999, multiple times over.

Society has rules and laws for just about everything. In Kansas, it’s illegal to have a couch on a porch. In Iowa, if you’re caught passing off this-isn’t-technically-butter as butter, it’s a misdemeanor. In Minnesota, it’s illegal to have a greased-up-pig contest. But I think we’ve gotten too granular and missed some really big opportunities to improve society with some rules that people really feel passionate about. And here are 19 contenders I’ve come up with: Every time they lie — BZZZ.

Understanding what women want is a bit like solving a dodecahedron Rubik’s Cube while calculating the square root of pi, then giving those mathematical gifts to a troll you find under a bridge while answering the impossible ‘these riddles three’. I’m a woman, and I don’t always know what we want. We’re not a monolith and also a bit of a mystery wrapped in an enigma.

I’ll be the first to admit, in some ways, I have the survival instincts of a leaf. In the wilderness, I’d starve while I tried to forage for Lucky Charms. I couldn’t even make it either; I don’t even know which charms are lucky, and I have no idea how to farm marshmallows. I don’t know how to make a corn turn into a flake. I haven’t the foggiest which boat I’d find the Captain Crunch on or which trees grow fruit in loop form. Not to mention, where would I get my medical care?