Fuck You, Atlantic, And You Sucked in Bed Anyway

Posted by Lizzie on 02/09/08

Way to go, Atlantic, for bringing your content out behind a firewall and choosing the first time in history a woman has a viable chance at the Presidency to bring us your penetrating coverage on how women who are desperate to get married should just fucking settle:

Whether you acknowledge it or not, there’s good reason to worry. By the time 35th-birthday-brunch celebrations roll around for still-single women, serious, irreversible life issues masquerading as “jokes” creep into public conversation: Well, I don’t feel old, but my eggs sure do! or Maybe this year I’ll marry Todd. I’m not getting any younger! The birthday girl smiles a bit too widely as she delivers these lines, and everyone laughs a little too hard for a little too long, not because we find these sentiments funny, but because we’re awkwardly acknowledging how unfunny they are. At their core, they pose one of the most complicated, painful, and pervasive dilemmas many single women are forced to grapple with nowadays: Is it better to be alone, or to settle?

Uh, you know what? Yeah, that doesn’t happen with my friends at all of our vaunted “35th-birthday-brunch celebrations.” Primarily because my friends are not a pack of fucking douchebags.

But I’m not going to waste more space on what a douchebag you are, Lori Gottlieb, because even my Content Management System has database limitations. I’m just going to move right along and add about six more fuck-yous to the Atlantic for its searing coverage of women in the past few years:

Let’s see: we’re desperate to get married. No: we’re married and we’re frigid. No! Fuck. We’re giving you too many fucking blowjobs. Sheeet. We are dumb. We think a lot about boys. We should hurry the fuck up and have those babies! You know what? We still don’t want to fuck you. Except for how we’re having a terribly hard time getting you to marry us. We’re having such a hard time we pay a lot of fucking money to find you on dating sites. You know what? We still don’t want to fuck you. Cuz we’re fat. We bleed. We are very concerned about raising your children correctly. We abuse our nannies. Because we work, our children get abused. We should fucking stay home. You are happy when we stay home. Our children are not abused. Except we don’t fucking know what we’re doing when we’re raising your children. Or how to talk to the maid. Oh. And Hillary Rodham Clinton is a cunt.

Or, as I believe Alan Ginsberg might put it:

Atlantic it’s them bad blowjobs.
Them blowjobs and them dating services and them absentee mothers. And them blowjobs. The blowjob wants to eat us alive. The blowjob’s power mad. She wants to take our diaphrams from out our uteruses.
Her wants to grab the White House. Her needs a Red Reader’s Digest. her wants our
ring fingers and wallets. Her big bureaucracy running our blowjobs.
That no good. Ugh. Him tell her talk to the maid. Him need a blow job.
Hah. Her make us wait for a blowjob sixteen hours a day. Help.
Atlantic this is quite serious.
Atlantic this is the impression I get from looking at your archives.
Atlantic is this correct?

Oh, and by the way? All those women who blew you off because they thought they could find someone better?

They were right.

HRC 2008!

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