I cheated, came clean, and after some work, he forgave me. We’ve been together for over a year and shit has been fantastic. He’s my dream dude, so why am I the one having trouble trusting him?

You’re the one having trouble trusting him because you’re the one who cheated. Cheaters are always plagued with trust issues. It’s a little slice of karmic retribution I like to call cheater’s irony.

I’d tell you I’m sorry, but I’m not. You cheated, and now you’re worried he’ll do the same to you. Tough shit. That’s just how it goes.

I’ve been with this man on and off since middle school. We have an eight year old daughter, which is the main reason why I’m still with him. He is a great man, but I am not truly happy. We have built a home for our daughter together, and I feel wrong to end it and have to put her through the heartbreak and mess. What the hell would you do?

It doesn’t matter what the hell I would do, because I wasn’t stupid enough to get knocked up by some guy I met at recess. What the hell you should do is continue putting your daughter first, and get ridiculous notions of being “truly happy” out of your head. “Truly happy” doesn’t exist. It’s just another bullshit manifestation of the “happily ever after” fantasy…

Read the rest of this week’s column over at Nerve.com

Is there a difference between fuck buddies, friends with benefits, and an “erotic friendship” (a term a guy with whom I’m beginning my first explorations into polyamory coined)? I feel like there is but I don’t want to be duped into some bullshit. Any advice from someone more seasoned would be appreciated, thanks!

Each of those three reductive relationship labels has its own unique flavor, even if their basic meaning is similar.

"Fuck buddies" is the most casual label, and can easily apply to anyone in your life who sticks around longer than a one night stand but who doesn’t otherwise qualify for anything particularly romantic.

"Friends with benefits" puts the emphasis on an actual friendship, which may or may not be worth anything if the benefits start getting complicated. Maintaining friends with benefits status can work, but only if everyone involved is emotionally honest, and only for as long as those emotions are purely platonic.

As for an “erotic friendship,” it sounds like your little polyamorous Magellan needs to back away from his dogeared copy of The Unbearable Lightness of Being and go rinse the douche out of his game.

Trust your nose. If it smells like bullshit, it’s probably bullshit. This dude obviously wants to fuck you, and that’s cool if you’re into it, but don’t let him smooth talk his way into your pants by taking credit for a line he borrowed from Kundera…

Read the rest of this week’s column over at Nerve.com

Why can’t I seem to stay in a relationship past 3 or 4 months?
Because that’s the shelf life of bullshit.

The girl I’m casually seeing just told me no one’s ever been able to make her come. What should I do?
Tell her that it’s perfectly okay and that there’s nothing wrong with her. Tell her that you appreciate her openness and vulnerability. Don’t take it as a challenge, and don’t put any pressure on her to have an orgasm. In other words, don’t make it about you.

A man that I met while traveling in Europe is launching a Bitcoin exchange, and wants to launch a social networking site in tandem with it. I am a community manager between gigs. He recently offered to buy a plane ticket and pay my salary for the next two months before I start my Masters in the fall. This doesn’t seem like a real thing.
Yeah, unless your dad is Liam Neeson, you might wanna consider a little extra due diligence before accepting this gig.

What’s the point of hatefucks? Like, to take a food analogy, if you hate carrots, why eat some when you can have tomatoes or beets?
Your analogy confuses hatefucking for actually hating to fuck. A better food analogy would be that a hatefuck is like a pie eating contest — it’s aggressive, messy, and it requires that you momentarily suspend your dignity, but every once in a while it’s fun to engorge yourself without having to give a shit about table manners.

My girlfriend and I are thinking about going to a strip club. Neither of us has been to one before, so we have no idea about proper strip club etiquette. Any hard-and-fast rules?
Keep your expectations low, keep your hands to yourself, and when in doubt, tip. (That goes for both of you.)

You have no idea how badly I want to give up.
Yes I do.

I had a dream last night that I spent a day hanging out with you and Donna Meagle.
Did you treat yourself?

Do you think Hooters is demeaning to women?
No. I think fast food chains that pay single mothers minimum wage are demeaning to women. Hooters is just tacky.

As a stripper who’s been in the industry for 6 years now, I’d be interested to hear your reasons for telling that newbie couple to "keep [their] expectations low". Are you saying they should keep their expectations low because it probably won’t be as much fun as they hope, and the dancers won’t be as attractive/intelligent/skilled as they imagine? Or are you saying they should keep their expectations low in terms of what they’ll be able to “get away with” (touching a stripper during a lap dance, taking one home, etc.)?

Yes.

My friend is a lesbian who’s very extreme in her views and is often quite offensive to me about being straight and how my relationship is ‘boring and meaningless’ because of this. How do I show her this is just as hurtful as a homophobic comment?

Um, you’re straight. How the fuck would you know how much homophobic comments hurt?

Maybe if you weren’t so eager to play the victim, you could see past your own smarmy sense of entitlement long enough to recognize that just because you’re offended, that doesn’t mean you’re also being oppressed.

If your lesbian friend is talking smack about you, then by all means, tell her to go fuck herself. Call her out for being an asshole, but keep that whiny “just as hurtful” bullshit to yourself.

You will always lose that argument.

I’ve been exclusively dating this guy for almost 2 months now. From our very first date, things seemed to click. We would spend hours talking and have no idea how much time had passed. I’ve never felt this way about someone before, and I think I’m at the beginning of starting to fall in love.

But, (and there’s always a “but”) he has really terrible anxiety that leads to depression. Like, sobbing uncontrollably for hours anxiety and depression. When we first met and started dating, it seemed to be rather well controlled with medication, but if he ever missed a dose, things went downhill very quickly. He recently moved to a new apartment, and the change has been enough to trigger what he says is some of his worst anxiety in years. For the past week or so, he’s been utterly depressed, and although I’m trying to be there for him, it’s extremely difficult. I struggle with depression too, but mine is extremely well controlled right now. I’m having quite a bit of trouble because as much as I’d like to help him, I can’t have him leaning on me as much as he has. We haven’t known each other long enough for me to be his entire support system (he doesn’t get along with his family, so I’ve quickly become his only support). I’m afraid that being there for him would be at the cost of my own mental health, which is something I can’t risk. When he’s normal, he’s absolutely amazing, and I could definitely see a future with him. I just don’t know what to do at this point. Thanks for reading.

It’s time for you to take a huge step back and get some fresh perspective on this slow motion trainwreck of a relationship.

First, you need a quick reminder of what “almost two months” actually means. It’s under sixty days. If you’d bought your boyfriend at The Gap, you’d still be able to return him and get a full refund. Two months is nothing. It’s definitely not “sobbing uncontrollably for hours” territory.

Admit it, you’re still holding in your farts around this guy, and yet he’s relying on you to be his entire emotional support system. That’s ridiculous. Even if he didn’t have what certainly sounds like clinical depression on top of a pretty significant anxiety disorder, it would still be inappropriate for him to burden you with all of his bullshit this early in the relationship…

Read the rest of this week’s column over at Nerve.com

Terry Richardson is a sleaze, but I feel that some (not all) of those ladies wanted to be a part of his sleaze for fame. So, they’re fame-whores who ended up regretting their own bid for fame when it didn’t pan out for them.

Okay, so lemme get this straight. After factoring in the toxic aspects of celebrity culture, your nuanced opinion about workplace sexual harassment in the fashion industry is still basically “those whores get what they deserve.”

Got it, thanks. You should kill yourself.

If you claim that everything really means nothing, then why give a flying fuck whether or not “those whores” got what they had coming?
Because existential nihilism isn’t a license to be an asshole.

You shouldn’t tell people to kill themselves, even if you’re joking.
Why not?

Would you concede that sometimes you’re a cunt just for the sake of being a cunt?
I don’t have to concede shit.

Do you ever worry that all the topless pictures you send to guys will come back to haunt you?
It won’t be your topless pictures that come back to haunt you. It will be your credit score.

What do you think of online dating? It seems like just one big meat market.
Life is one big meat market. Online dating is just a picture menu.

How do you know if your life story is interesting enough to be a book?
If you’re a good writer, any life story is interesting enough to be a book.

How long is the “normal” amount of time to be single?
That’s good. The first step is putting it in quotes. The next step is realizing that there’s no such thing.

Is any amount of money in a job offer worth moving to Sarasota, FL while single at age 31?
Yes, but I doubt that’s what they’re offering you.

Am I terrible for thinking my girlfriend is really ugly when I wake up in the morning next to her, seeing as she has no makeup on?
Yes.

No matter what, whoever I date starts to look ugly to me after a while. Is this normal? How do I stop this from happening?
You’re confusing what they look like for what they are like. Even worse, you’re probably confusing what they are like for what you are like.

You shouldn’t tell people to kill themselves, even if you’re joking, because someone might. Plus it makes you sound like an abusive asshole, in the same way that using “gay” as a slur makes you sound like a homophobic asshole. If that’s the pony you’d like to hitch your wagon to, sure okay, but don’t fucking pretend you don’t understand why “You should kill yourself” is a monumentally shitty thing to say.

This is why no one likes you.

Ugh coke, what happened to you? you used to be witty and funny in your cynicism. now you just sound like a jaded old dried out cunt whose lost her thunder.

I was never a cynic, fucknuts. There just happened to be a moment when you and I disliked the same things, and during that time you thought my writing was witty and funny.

Now that we don’t dislike the same things anymore — or more likely, we happen to disagree on one particular issue — I’m suddenly a “jaded old dried out cunt whose [sic] lost her thunder.” How convenient. (Keep reaching for those clichés, by the way.)

Over the past five years, I’ve grown very in tune with the cyclical nature of both building and maintaining a large base of readers. Most people think growing an audience is a steady upward climb. It’s not. The metrics are far more fascinating than that. What actually happens is that you gain readers in discrete bursts and you lose readers in discrete bursts. It’s an elaborate wave function.

Folks who pay attention to this stuff are usually satisfied to gain as many readers as they can during a positive burst and lose as few readers as they can during a negative burst, thus ensuring the maximum readership over time.

This type of behavior consists of two basic public relations postures that are fairly easy to spot. During positive bursts, the posture is one of relentless self-promotion followed by repetition of whatever gained popularity (otherwise known as “publicity.”) During negative bursts, the posture is one of apologetic self-flagellation followed by relative silence (otherwise known as “damage control.”)

So yeah, aside from the consistent output of quality content, the only trick to engaging your largest possible audience is knowing when to say, “Look at me!” and when to say, “I’m sorry.” (I’m not going to discuss deliberate attempts to gain readers in discrete bursts. That’s called marketing, and paying for it is called advertising. Either way, it’s artificial growth, and people can tell when you’re doing it.)

Now, I bring all this up, because while most people who do this kind of thing are interested in building the largest possible readership, that’s not always the goal. It’s certainly not why I do what I do here. Sure, I love having a large audience, but large is not the same thing as wide. I’m much more interested in keeping the right readers over time than I am in keeping the most readers over time.

The trick to doing this is in my ability to spot the negative bursts as they happen and then use them to my advantage. Case in point: Yesterday, I dashed off an angry response that ended with, "You should kill yourself."

Despite the fact that I was being sarcastic in the face of outrageous misogyny, I immediately felt the initial rumblings of a negative burst. (So be it. You can’t control when these things happen, but I do find it hilarious that no one seems to remember that I ran an entire side-blog called “Just Kill Yourself” back in the Dear Coke Talk days.)

If my goal had been to maintain maximum readership, I simply would have replaced the, “You should kill yourself” line with, “I hope you die in a fire.” (This in itself would have been a subtle dig at the silly whims of political correctness, because while it may be fashionable to scold people for joking about suicide, no one gives a shit about the delicate sensibilities of burn victims.)

I abhor political correctness, and tumblr is awash in hashtag activists and social justice warriors who take immense delight in their duties as semiprofessional finger waggers. Those are exactly the kind of people I don’t want hanging around, so later that afternoon, I loaded the top three answers of a fun-sized advice with incendiary language to provoke a deliberate response. Right on cue, my inbox fills up with whiny self-righteousness. I picked the submission that best represented a certain type of person, and then crafted an ad hominem attack specifically designed to personally offend that certain type of person.

It worked. It always works. (If you’ve read this far, you’re probably a regular reader, and you can remember any number of occasions when I left my ring on during a bitch slap.) Point is, I’d much rather have a say in the type of readers I lose when it inevitably comes time to lose them. I lost a couple hundred followers with that last post, and probably pissed off a thousand more. That’s fine with me. I’m glad they’re gone.

This isn’t something I do because I disagree with a particular point of view. It’s something I do because every once in a while, it’s good to clear the echo chamber of all the whiners. It becomes so much easier to hear the relevant conversations when they’re not around.

My husband’s been cheating on me. We are supposed to have an open marriage, and the agreed terms are that we know what each other has been up to. Not that he hasn’t denied doing anything until he has to bring me antibiotics from the clinic because he’s caught something.

I don’t mind the sex, I mind the lying for I don’t know how long, at least a year. Not just not telling, lying when asked. I’m not possessive or weird, but we had an agreement about how this was supposed to work. If one of us wants to change the terms, it’s a negotiation, not an unilateral change.

We’ve been married for nine years. We both want an open marriage, but this whole time he has had trouble actually admitting that he is doing it with anyone else.

If it matters, we’re both bi, and he’s mostly hooked up with men, though I just learned there was one woman 10 months ago, maybe more, I don’t know. Now what?

It’s entirely up to you.

First, you need to make a rational and realistic assessment of your husband’s character, and then decide whether his potential for infidelity is enough of a glaring flaw to end your marriage.

You need to take into account that an open marriage isn’t enough for him, and it probably never will be. Cheating itself is obviously part of the thrill. He’d rather tell lies and keep secrets than put the minimum amount of effort required to keep an open marriage healthy, and that’s not something you can easily remedy.

It’s a terrible thing to learn that your husband can’t be trusted, and I’m sure he’ll come up with a long list of bullshit reasons why he lied, but at the end of the day, the fundamental reason is that he just couldn’t be bothered to be honest…

Read the rest of this week’s column over at Nerve.com

Our neighbours just had a baby and are trying out the idea of not revealing its gender in order to disrupt and challenge the gender expectations people will invariably place on the baby. I get it, but find this kind of self-righteousness nonetheless annoying.

They also have a 3 yr old boy and are delighted when he chooses to wear one of his many dresses - they bring it up at every opportunity. It’s like they’re in a competition to be the most progressive, challenging parents on the block, but it seems to be all about their own self aggrandizement. Thoughts?

Meh. Using your offspring to challenge gender expectations is pretty much like shopping at Whole Foods. It’s not really progressive anymore. It’s just something trendy hippies do.

I dunno, maybe it’s still controversial in your corner of the world, but rich white assholes in Los Angeles have been pulling this kind of special snowflake bullshit since before Laurel Canyon had its first Prius. I mean sure, if the boy next door wants to wear dresses, that’s perfectly fine, but that doesn’t mean his parents deserve extra kale in their smoothies.

Nobody should raise a waxed eyebrow over any child’s choice of gender expression, but if your neighbors insist on challenging you to a sanctimonious game of guess-the-gender with an infant, you shouldn’t hesitate to challenge them right back.

Obviously I’m not saying you should impose traditional gender norms on their baby. (Come on, it’s not like we’re Republicans.) All I mean is that it’s fun to fuck with people who love the smell of their own farts.

Trust me, I know these types. They can’t wait to correct you when you use gendered pronouns such as “he” or “she” when referring to their human larva. That’s why you should always refer to their baby as “it,” which has the benefit of being both gender neutral and passive aggressive…

Read the rest of this week’s column over at Nerve.com

This is probably the most stupid question you’ll get today, but how does one get into rooftop hotel pools? Do you have to check in first? Do you book a room for that particular afternoon to read books by the pool? This is a 100% serious question.

Actually, the stupidest questions today have been about what I think of Burger King’s viral marketing of gay hamburgers. (I’m sure Baudrillard would have something to say about simulacra with cheese, but I really can’t be bothered.)

As for rooftop pools, this isn’t as shallow a question as it seems. (Yes, I made a pun. Sue me.) You think you’re asking about the customs and process involved in finding your way onto a hotel chaise lounge, but there’s a fundamental lesson here about learning social norms and codes of behavior.

So, how does one get into rooftop hotel pools? It’s painfully simple: One belongs there. That’s all there is to it. Really.

I know you don’t like hearing that. It seems trite and dismissive, but it’s not. Besides, it’s not like I can give you some special secret handshake answer, because your question isn’t specific enough in the first place. (What works at the Mondrian on a Saturday doesn’t fly at the Chateau on a Tuesday.)

Point is, if you want to go to the pool, just go to the fucking pool. If you don’t already know, there’s no other way to figure out how, and if you pay attention and you’re not an asshole, someone who’s already there will happily fill you in on how it works.

I hope you get the broader implications of this advice.

This is a 100% serious answer.

Long time reader here. I didn’t pose the original question, but let me just say — I totally understand the broader implications of your reply, and still thought that was the most insufferable bit of advice I’ve ever seen from you.

Yeah, I’m starting a new thing. From now on, when twits and twats submit their ridiculous opinions about individual posts through Dear Coquette, I’m just gonna stick ‘em in the comments section where they belong.

They’ll show up as the Coquette Troll.

I was recently handed information that could be the tipping point for a co-worker who has an extensive history of sub-par performance and general bitchery. She and I have never got along that well as I just don’t trust her - my gut knows she’s shady. But, she is also a human, a single mother, and has come a long way in life. My question is, do I go to my boss with what I know, potentially ending my co-workers career and feel a little like a rat or do I hold on to what I know and let things unfold without my involvement? I am supremely upset by my coworker’s behavior, but am not sure I am in the position to tear her little playhouse down and it be the best thing I can do right now. What would be the Coquette move here?

This is all very vague, and you sound a little too pleased with yourself. You’ve got some shit on a co-worker that may or may not be useful as leverage, but to what end? What do you really want to have happen here?

Do you gain anything out of getting this bitch fired? Even if you do, is it worth the potential blowback? What’s really in it for you? And remember, if you tear down your co-worker’s playhouse just to watch it fall, then that makes you pretty shady too.

Don’t waste leverage just to create drama. Either use it to achieve a specific goal — and be prepared for the consequences — or just shut the fuck up and do your job.

Do you think you’re a good person?

Sure, but that’s not the right question.

I’m human. I’m capable of both good and evil, to the extent that those concepts even have meaning beyond our limited moral comprehension of the universe. I do what I can to alleviate suffering and add some measure of benefit to this bizarre little experiment we call a world, but it’s all ultimately insignificant.

It doesn’t matter whether I think I’m a good person. It only matters whether I am good to other people.

I’m curious as to what you think about the “To be a Feminist is to be a Vegan” argument? Considering you’re a feminist, and clearly not vegan or vegetarian.

I had to google this ridiculousness. The argument is basically a self-serious application of the otherwise frivolous thought exercise, “If meat is murder, then are eggs are rape?” It’s an attempt to take intersectionality to an illogical conclusion by overextending intersectional feminism to include the concept of interspecies feminism.

Feminism is a movement that applies to structural inequalities in human social institutions, so the “To be a Feminist is to be a Vegan” argument ultimately fails because it conflates patriarchy with anthroparchy.

Essentially, it’s a logical fallacy of false equivalence. The problems of a male dominated society are not the same as the problems of a human dominated society. Meat may very well be murder, and eggs may very well be rape, but the exploitation of animals by humans is a completely separate issue from that of human gender equality.

Do you think Beyonce & Jay-Z have a monogamous marriage?
I don’t think it’s any of our motherfucking business.

Why do I scare guys I like away, and attract the ones I don’t?
That’s just your confirmation bias talking.

Why is it so fucking hard to lose those last 10 pounds?
Because the law of diminishing returns is a real thing.

The moment’s passed, obviously, but any advice as to what to do when I’m blowing a guy (on and off again bf), I look up and he’s checking his fucking phone, mid-fellatio?
If you’re just trying to get him off, feel free to immediately end the blowjob. If there’s something in it for you (like you’re getting him hard enough to fuck, or you simply enjoy sucking dick) then it’s up to you whether to give a shit. In my experience, it’s better to find that kind of thing funny rather than insulting.

To be a lawyer, do you think one should completely be abiding of the law? I get the feeling the answer’s already ‘no’, but I just don’t have any grasp of how to explain why.
No one can nor should be completely abiding of the law. If you want a better grasp on explaining why, first learn the fundamental differences between the concepts of morality, ethics, justice, and the law.

What age or when should I stop fighting wrinkles?
That’s entirely up to you, but there’s a difference between fighting wrinkles and taking care of your skin. Taking care of your skin is something you do for your own personal good health and well being. Fighting wrinkles is something you do in furtherance of ageist, patriarchal beauty standards. The regimens may be identical, but the underlying rationale makes all the difference in the world.

Thoughts on the end of Californication? You were an early fan. Have you stuck with it to the end or did you give up a couple seasons back when it got really bad?
I stuck with it, but it was awful. I was glad to see it end. Hank Moody deserved better than to become a boring clown surrounded by misogynistic cartoons.

What does your dream wedding dress look like?
The one Stephanie Seymour wore in the November Rain video. (That’s not so much a dream wedding dress as it is a “sex dream” wedding dress.)

What’s the best insult you’ve ever come up with?
I don’t know about the best, but I’m particularly fond of this one.

Jay Z and Beyoncé exploit their own relationship. It might as well be our business what they do in their private lives if they’re offering it to us to buy and admire.

Hell no. Anyone who wears a wedding ring publicly exploits their own relationship. That doesn’t make it any of our damn business. Every last one of us has a public, a private, and a secret life. We would all do well to respect the difference, even for those who are famous.

Jay Z and Beyonce may be the closest thing we have to American royalty, but their fame doesn’t entitle us to their private lives. I know there’s an entire bottom-feeding industry of celebrity gossip that would have you believe otherwise, but TMZ is wrong.

It’s none of our fucking business.

"Everybody has a public, a private, and a secret life" Ok, I’ll take the bait. Could you elaborate on the distinction, in your view, between private life and secret life?

Yeah, I talked about that a while back. You can read it here.