So you’re pissed as hell and you’re not going to take it anymore. That bastard really got to you, didn’t he(she)? Well, here’s a fool-proof method to get back at that idiot. Maybe he’s sent you 5000 text messages in the last hour begging you to take him back. Maybe the restraining order is “like” not doing the trick. Or maybe just maybe he did you wrong like in an Aretha Franklin Song. Or maybe he send you ONE TOO MANY YOUTUBE VIDEOS while you were fucking him. (”What the…weren’t we..you know…doing it at 2:15 am???”) No matter, we at Press Body have figured it all out. And you, put down the Kafka. You’ve gotta be kidding me. This is no time for malaise. This is time for action!

Step 1: Identify your problem. Put on some Depeche Mode and gchat one of your closest friends… Preferably one who has the same … you know tampon cycle as you! That way you can turn on people the same week. Believe me. it’s just easier this way. You want to be sure to be able to take a vacation from reality with someone who’s on the same Party Sched as you. Once you’ve turned on the manchild, decide if you really want to mail him a piece of shit.

2. Eat a lot of the following foods: Activia Yogurt, Kashi, Coffee, Iced Lattes, Bananas, any high-fiber cereals, broccoli, beer, bean burritos, and maybe a lot of whiskey. Throw some seltzer in there.

3. As soon as you’ve finished eating, you’re going to want to have your box ready. Might I recommend one of those boxes you get from Mailboxes Etc. or your local post office. It should be square and small. Remember: your shit is smaller than you think it is.

4. Line the box with wax paper. Trust me. It might just sound or feel great to shit right into a cardboard box, but your shit is highly oily (see: burrito and beer and yogurt.) That thing wil come sliding out of you like a baby out of Barbara Walters’ Vagina, but you can’t exactly dump it RIGHT into Pivjob’s mouth now can you? No. It has to get mailed. And the best way to mail things is properly. The Post office is a government agency and they don’t fuck around. Let’s do this right.

5. Go to www.usps.com and pay for / print out your postage. Again, it’s easier this way. No messy (heh heh) lines.

6. By now your stomach is rumbling. Piss as much as you can. Then lift up the seat cover. Place plastic “Saran” wrap around the toilet seat. It’s helpful to have a friend assist you with this. Preferably the bff who helped you decide this was a good time to begin with. If she protests, just say “You owe me this.” If you’re a rather crass lady, you might consider just dumping in your bathtub. I think this is sick. This whole business is incredibly sick but you’ve already decided to do this, haven’t you, so you can’t stop now. You’ve already paid for express mail postage! You sick fuck just go through with it. If something happns like your piece of shit falls through the sick saran wrap “shield” between toilet water and toilet bowl, you have to put on a rubber glove and go in there. This is where it’d be somewhat helpful to be german with one of those german “shelf” toilets but beggers can’t be choosers. I fucking love this country, our bathroom politics is not our biggest strength.

Ok so then you did it. You put on that rubber glove and you put it in the box. Then you tape it up real nice with packing tape. Maybe spray a little bit of perfume on it. It’ll help. Believe me. I imagine such a thing would help. Then drop it off at the nearest mailroom or mailbox. I suppose if you bought it online, the return address is necessary. Thing is, don’t you really want him to know it is from you? Yeah, you kinda do. How else would he be able to say “You’re not going to believe what that fuckin bitch Elliott David sent me!”

And ladies and gentlemen, the next time a girl or guy asks you for your mailing address and by that i mean YOUR ZIP CODE, think twice. Think twice it’s all right!

A friendly warning,

The Management

Please collect the following dolphins in your life if you haven’t already. Please do not read this post if you are currently in a relationship, as I am afraid you have been compromised.

1. Someone you can call after midnight to meet up and sleep with. This dolphin will not judge you when you send the 2am text “Are you out?” Sometimes this dolphin does not respond, and that is totally fine. That is the type of relationship you have—no hard feelings. They text you sometimes when you have found yourself in a crowd of beautiful dolphins and you don’t reply, this is fine. It does not lead to battle texting or guilt trips. Pet names are used in an elegant, not trashy manner (i.e. “beautiful” rather than “baby.”) You will never fight. The only inherent risk is that you may at some point become disgusted with this dolphin.

2. One or two strictly text message relationships. Text messaging is a wonderful way to practice false intimacy. While waiting in the doctor’s office, sitting at your desk, hiding in the bathroom when you are at a bar and you suddenly remember you hate everyone, when you wake up and feel lonely—sending or receiving a text message is perfect. It’s a fantastic way to check out, to assert your hopes and dreams, and to flirt without having to face the slap of in-dolphin rejection. Your text partner may or may not live in the same city/time zone as you. This does not matter. When you are staring at a message from him or her on your tiny screen, you could swear their heart was beating right next to yours, their fin resting in your fin.

3. Someone that you consider the love of your life that you have intermittent and intense platonic exposure to. When you are together, there is no one else in the room. You know in your heart that you are meant for each other, but you also know that you have to wait it out. They smell right, they make you feel alive, they have the same life plan, etc. Your eyes know each other’s eyes. Sometimes your love for this dolphin crushes you and sends you into desperate obsession, but this is actually positive. Yearning is part of the dolphin condition.

4. Someone to cherish. Someone sweet, beautiful, kind, generous, fun, smart, and easy to be around. Someone who makes you want to walk to the deli and buy them beer at any hour of the night. Someone who you can call on Sunday and invite over when you are hung over and emotional. This dolphin is the dolphin who you ask yourself over and over again why you are not in a relationship. They make you question your own ability to love and share your life. This is fine. Sometimes things take time. It is good for the soul to have someone to adore who adores you too. There is no violence between you; there is no disregard. There are only rainbows and candlelight. Sometimes you don’t speak for weeks and you never discuss why. It doesn’t matter though, when they smile.

5. A female or male dolphin that you have encountered in another country that you can long for. They are the physical manifestation of your vacation—a place you never had to work, never had to do laundry. Their body spoke another language to you, and you can now only search for new Facebook pictures of them to swoon over. That is all you have. That, intermittent emails, and those dark days in the office where you research flights back to that foreign land, and that foreign lover.

Good Luck! Knock ‘em dead! Collect all five! Kiss the sky!

I don’t care that he’s a brute.  He’s a fine piece.

I just got tested and I was diagnosed with a rare STD that will turn me into an amphibian dragon. Apparently my uterus is now similar to one of a pre-historic dolphin and should I decide to birth children, they have a 20/80 chance of also becoming amphibian dragons.

This is completely devastating, and I am not sure how I will rearrange my life to make room for my new needed treatments. For one, I am going to need unlimited access to water (I am thinking le seine might be ok) and for two, after my razor sharp gills completely form; I have to really manage my anger. You try having an amazingly strong tail, and tell me you don’t want to whip that guy on the dance floor trying to place his hard-on against your ass.

HOW I WILL LOOK WITHIN 3 MONTHS:

So like I said in the title, if you’ve gotten with me you should be tested… you may have amphibian dragon in your blood too.

Sorry!  Totally sucks!

M

Ant: frugality, hard work, teamwork  

Ape: uncleanness

Ass: stupidity

bat: blindness

Bear: anger, uncouthness

bee: sociability, industry 
 

beetle: blindness

bull: strength, straightforwardness

butterfly: sportiveness, hedonism

cat: deceit

 HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

More later.. . . .

EH? EH?  WHAT AM I GONNA DO WITH ALL THESE YOUTUBE VIDEOS?  I CAN’T LOOK AT THEM ALL THEY JUST TOO MUCH OF THEM?  EH? EH?  WHAT WOULD yOU DO IF YOU HAD ALL THESE DAMN YOUTUBE VIDEOS TO WATCH? EH ?  EH?  EH? EH? 

I GOT TWELVE YOU TUBE VIDEOS?  HOW AM I  GONNA HAVE TIME TO WATCH THEM ALL?

 CAN I GET AN INTERN OR SOMETHIN?  EH?  HUH?

These are the few and only things that matter in life:

Haircuts, Neighborhoods, Expensive Wines, A Good Tailor, The Bowery Hotel, The Standard on Sundays, Jeans, Underexposed Bands, The Contents of One’s iPod, Kate Moss, Raw Vegan Macrobiotic Steak Tar Tar, Weekends in Montouk, Records, Stamps on Ones Passport Indicating Countries Travelled To and/or From, Proposed Political Alliance, Rare Breeds, Oysters, Where One Goes to Purchase Cocktails on Monday Nights, Where One Goes to Purchase Cocktails on Tuesday Nights, Where One Goes to Brunch, Hating Vice Magazine, and Art Films.

DATELINE WASHINGTON–Barbara Walters, the speech impediment-inflicted co-host of The View was so desperate for the country to know she’s had sex, revealed a long-time affair with former Senator Brooks (R-MA), who she called “The Obama of his day.” 

Um yeah, every man we ever f is “the Obama of his day.” 

Just keep pasting that face over every overweight, undermedicated ex.   Just keep doing that, Barbs!  Thing is, we don’t care whether you’ve ever done it.  We SERIOUSLY DON’T CARE!  It’s ok to not be having sex.  It’s boring that way but it doesn’t make you worse than us. 

Elliott is afraid of us now.

He’s worried that there’ll be no interview.

Thing is. . . . . . .