It's a pretty bad idea to contact a stranger and tell her she's hot because she looks like a young girl. Ed did this, to Abigail. And this very special CEFAD is re-enacted for your pleasure by weird bear creatures.
As we all know, the Internet is a magical place full of cat videos, cheap thongs, and complete racist fucks who hang out on dating sites trying — and occasionally managing — to appear normal enough to bother taking to.
After we noted that American Apparel is still experiencing pretty serious problems, spokeslawyer Peter Schey wrote in to set us straight on some stuff. And to say that "Abercrombie and Finch" totally had to pay a much bigger immigration fine!
A reader emailed us with screen captures of a conversation she had with a gentleman — and we use that term loosely — on OkCupid. What follows is a true story, fraught with ignorance, casual racism and assholery.
While our Crap Email series typically deals with shady mailings from dudes, today's letter comes to us from a woman whose husband's ex-girlfriend doesn't seem to understand why, in the words of Lady Gaga, she doesn't wanna be friends.
Though most dudes tend to send their crap via email, this particular dude, as a reader points out, has gone above and beyond, creating what can only be referred to as a CCPFRAD: "Crap Craigslist Post From A Dude."
In the dating world, there are those who send crap emails, and those who receive them. These are their stories. (Dun-dun!)
Today's CEFAD provides insight to the persistent question, 'Why don't we adopt the formal diction of law and business and introduce it into our personal lives?' Wouldn't the crispness of legalese be simpler, even kinder, in its way? Um, no.
In many ways, there's nothing stupider than agreeing to meet your ex-fiancé for a nice, chummy holiday coffee date just two months after the betrothal was broken. Which is probably why Katie, having initially agreed to Jeff's overtures, backed out.
It's always a bad idea to try to model yourself after someone you have a crush on. It's an especially bad idea to determine that your crush is "a headcase" and that you must woo them via psychological fuckery.
There is no pain quite like the pain that accompanies the dissolution of a live-in relationship. In a way, only when you find yourself arguing about HALF the cost of THE LARGE MEASURING CUP do you really understand it's over.
Some things are always ill-advised. Singing Björk at karaoke. Invading Russia with winter approaching. Sometimes it's like you can hear a voice yelling "Don't!" Dating a married man isn't necessarily and absolutely and always on this list — people and their weird situations, you know — but as this Crap Email…
This edition of Crap Email From A Dude came with photos attached — proof to the recipient that "I have been having sex while seeing you." But that's what she gets for refusing to sleep with him! Serves her right.
On Saturday, Hortense asked if we'd be able to watch movies by Polanski apologists. Maybe — but can we date them? And what if they also like rape jokes?
Do you remember CockBibs? Or the unhinged man who invented them? Well, he's firing off angry emails to us again. This time, he's irate about an Urban Dictionary definition that Jezebel readers created—and made popular!—for the term "cockbib."
Men — particularly white men — have it pretty hard these days. Wise Latinas are getting onto the Supreme Court, black Muslims from Mombasa are living in the White House, and some women are even running websites for other women.
Few ex-boyfriends appreciate the primacy of laziness on the decision whether or not to sleep with them again. "Emily" and "Brian" were two old flames in the laziest stretch of most educated Americans' post-infant lives: Christmas break home from college.
"The lover's discourse is today of an extreme solitude," Roland Barthes wrote in 1977, for those who didn't catch it from the placement of the apostrophe. Spoken like someone who'd never been confronted with change in an ex-girlfriend's relationship status!
New game! "What's more offensive?" The erotic beauty of you holding yourself (or two magnificent parts of yourself) or the "awww, but it seems like he really loved her!" forgiveness orgy for this pathological dumbshit dipshit shitfuck?
Last night, The State released a series of e-mails between Mark Sanford and his Argentinian paramour, a woman said to be a 43-year-old agribusiness exec. We analyze Sanford's communiques from a literary, cultural, theological, and numerological perspective, after the jump.
