As a therapist, I’m supposed to check for suicidal thoughts in everyone I work with. But what I want to know is, what about homicidal thoughts? Because I’m willing to bet that most people would rather take out their annoying neighbor, or that overbearing coworker, or that ex who just won’t quit, than harm themselves. Let’s be real, here.
Oh baby girl. You don’t have to look at me all misty-eyed and put your arm around my shoulder. Trust me, I’m used to being a deeply sad individual. You might even say it’s part of my identity, at this point. And what do we have, if not ourselves, to hold onto in this cold, cruel world? Might as well embrace the sad, so it doesn’t seem quite so sad.
I remember a few weeks back there was a young woman who came by the YBD pop-up shop, looked around at all the postcards for about ten minutes, and came up with one perfect sentiment that resonated with her: EAT MY SHORTS. People, this is why I do what I do, and I’m happy to provide such a service to the community.
There’s a nice way and a not-so-nice way of saying fuck you. This is one of the nicer variations, I think. It communicates something along the lines of, gee, you should really look into getting fucked soon, because you kinda need it, buddy. Like, in the best possible way. Does that make sense?
Sometimes, there’s just no good way to say it. You can try to dress it up in politeness, with the utmost sensitivity to the other person’s feelings. But at the end of the day, you should probably just admit it, and say it plainly. Or, y’know, you could send them a postcard to break the news. Just don’t go overboard and sign it “xoxo.”
What a relief, to be not only done with a relationship that drains you or drowns you, but to feel totally decisive about the fact that it’s over. Yes, this is your life, honey, and you get to say who you do and don’t want to be around! I mean, you could even pretend it’s true of the terrible coworker you leave behind on Friday night, “never to return” (until Monday morning, that is). Because some shit you just can’t control, unfortunately.
Sometimes, the world feels very heavy on your shoulders. Sometimes, even having great hair doesn’t seem to help your chances of success. And sometimes, you just have to take a long ride on a subway car going nowhere and take a look at all the other lost souls who are your travel companions in this life, for better or worse. I see your burden, and I salute your efforts, comrade.
I have nothing personally against Etsy, besides the double-sided gang rape of a) high fees; and b) the way they force sellers into these nauseating cookie-cutter virtual display boxes. But I do have a bone to pick with every so-called “artist” who need only turn to AI to “generate” some dumb shit to sell.
Some days you just don’t want to be smiled at, said hello to, or even looked at the wrong way. And let me clarify: there is no “right way,” either. But an acquaintance coming in cold with, hey, how’s your depression coming along today? Now that’s a heart-warming-kinda conversation starter.
“You Can Get So Fucked” is iconic Your Burning Desire! There are two variations on this card: 1985-era Madonna, as well as Breakfast Club-era Judd Nelson (or should I say John Bender?). This design has been the most popular, by a long shot, in YBD’s first season of retail operation. ❤️🔥
We all know that prostitution is illegal in the United States, but what about a rent-a-friend program? You could sign up with an agency to match you with a compatible companion for an afternoon of tennis, let’s say, or a trip to the museum. There would be strictly enforced limits, of course, but the premise would be no different from therapy, or hiring someone for home health care. Does it even matter that they’d only be pretending to like you?
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