HBGWHEM is hosted on tumblr.

    This means that I have a bunch of people that I follow regularly and my dash is always open when I’m home from work.

    Most of the common themes I’ve seen with the people I follow are:

1. They really should be doing homework.
2. They are not doing homework.
3. They think they’re fat.
4. They are the most progressive human beings alive that will not tolerate hate of ANY kind (even if it is almost completely imagined) (except against Republicans or Catholics, in that case, game on).
5. They want a boyfriend, but don’t have one.

    Now I can’t fix the first two, to procrastinate is to be human.

    The third one I can’t fix because there is this old saying, “You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t convince him that his thighs aren’t fat”.

    I can’t fix the fourth one either, but eventually they will become bitter like the rest of us and spit in the face of the idealistic, so that’s gonna take care of itself in ~3 years of living in the real world.

    But! I can fix the final issue.

             YOU DON’T HAVE A BOYFRIEND BECAUSE YOU DELEVINGNE.

    Allow me to elaborate.

    Cara Delevingne is a socialite turned Burberry girl.

    Her sister is Poppy Delevingne, who doesn’t have a job, but is always in the news.

    For example, lets Google her name and see what comes up.

             “Poppy Delevingne’s Gucci Pants Almost Aren’t Pants At All (PHOTOS)”

    That headline distils Poppy perfectly. If you read that headline, you know her.

    Cara got her break when Storm signed her back when she was seventeen.

    Kate is signed to Storm so you know I’d never say anything bad about them, but the signing definitely feels like when you invite the kid who eats his scabs to sit at your lunch table because you’re afraid that if he doesn’t have a place to sit in the lunchroom, he’ll go into the bathroom and cut himself and wait for it to scar over so he can eat the dried bloody scabs like Sun Chips.

    No, actually, it’s worse than that. Storm turning Cara into a model is as bad as Storm signing Kimberly Stewart.

    “But Tom!!! I love Cara!!! She’s just like me, but prettier!!!” you say.

    And I respond, “I know. It’s why you’re single.”

    All of you reblog Cara because she’s “HILARIOUS”, but she is hilarious in the way blackguys dressed like grandmas are hilarious or grandmas rapping like black guys are hilarious. Cara’s personality is the laugh track sitcom of hilarious.

   I was in a fraternity in college. It will please most of the girls on tumblr to know that we spoke with a misogynistic undercurrent when discussing girls. Yes! Pump your fist in the air! Men really are oppressing you! We really do distill you down to how you act in public and what you look like…

…which means we NEVER want to date “the zany one”.

Here’s a conversation:

“Who are you going to take to formal?”

“I think Kate. She’s so fucking hot and no one else from our frat has gotten with her which is refreshing.”

“Dude, I’m gonna take Kate’s friend, Cara.”

“Yes! Bro, I love her. She’s the best. She is so zany that I can barely keep it in my pants when she’s around. Every time I see her I’m just like, ‘Get over here and pretend your going down stairs when you walk by a  counter!”

“Totally, I know, right? I mean, I wish that we could just find some girls that would be like Austin Powers, but girls instead of British caricatures, ya know?”

   Know how many times I’ve had that conversation before?

   Let me pause a moment and do the math.

    ZERO.

    No one EVER wants to fuck the zany girl.

   Ever.

    The good thing about all of this is that you can change it though.

   I have a big nose. The only way I could not have a big nose if I got surgery. If I could wake up one day and, without surgery, not be big nosed anymore, I would go to sleep right now and wake up in the morning date-able. But that can’t happen so I either need to put ads on this blog to pay for my nose job or just stay single forever.

    You don’t have to stay single forever, or monetize your blog.

    You just need to stop Delevingne’ing.

    Here is how Delevingneing has ruined your romantic possibilities.

                              Masterclass compliments of Cara:

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    You’re single because merely existing in public becomes this spectacle where people herd their children away and miserable sales associates ask you to leave. You know those kids skateboarding in front of Staples that call you a faggot when you’re just trying to get some color copies made? We get the same feeling when you’re slow dancing with the Justin Bieber cut out in the perfume section at Macys.

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    You’re single because you think the world is a stage and by people merely existing, we’ve bought tickets. There’s this uncomfortable clash that happens at the mall or at Whole Foods and it gets to the point where everyone just breaks down and it’s like, “LET ME BUY A FUCKING BANANA WITHOUT HAVING TO WATCH YOU DO A PUPPET SHOW WITH IT FIRST.”

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    You’re single because you do instagram photoshoots. Cara is famous for being the first “model” to do an “instagram shoot”. Can you read that sentence without vomiting? You can’t answer that question because right now you’re asking your mom for paper towels so your keys don’t get puke-sticky.

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    You’re single because you ironically throw up gang signs in pictures.

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    You’re single because the only long term relationship you’ve ever had is with a being who’s also emotionally invested in a pink string hanging off a bedpost.

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You’re single because while your friends are busy looking hot, you’re busying doing, whatever the fuck this is (above)…

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You’re single because people keep leaving change in your belongings because they think you’re a skitzo homeless person or a painfully untalented street performer putting on some misguided one woman show.

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You’re single because you’re the person that makes people learn photoshop so they can remove you from an otherwise perfect picture.

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You’re single because your non sequitur comments aren’t giggle inducing, they make people move to a different part of the movie theater so they don’t have to listen to you talk through a trailer for a piece of shit Jennifer Aniston movie.Yes, your zaniness drives people to Anistcoms.

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You’re single because you have no female friends except for that one lesbian no one likes.

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You’re single because when you drink, you become you, but worse.

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You’re single because people are secretly concealing the fact that they’re even an acquaintance with you. When someone says, ‘I think that person you came here with is pretending to jerk off the stone cherub in the courtyard,” your friend has no choice but to deny, deny, deny. There’s no such thing as guilty by association? Tell that to Joe Paterno.

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You’re single because you act like you’re a freedom fighter liberating the masses and exposing people to the truths that only you are progressive enough to realize. If you want to date white guys, stop blaming us for racism/sexism/war/class inequality/the glass ceiling/rape/black incarceration rates/hate crime/LMFAO/banning gay marriage/body issues/inflation/the Whitney Cummings sitcom. Some of that shit IS our fault, but we’d prefer to be able to have a slice of overpriced shitty pizza at Sbarro without leaving feeling like we have to hold a press conference with Jessie Jackson. 

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You’re single because half the time no one can figure out what the fuck you’re referencing. Believe it or not, but those jokes about series ten of a show that only aired in Korea in 2004 aren’t going to crack up the room, even if you do a spot on imitation of Kim Hyun finding out Hyun Bin ate the Bibimbap he prepared for his date with Soojin.

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    You’re single because you’re an attention whore. You’re like a hockey goalie and peoples attention is like pucks being shot toward your friends. You are flailing your arms and pushing people out of the way and the guy you like is all, “This is not how I imagined my sisters christening going. Please get her off the altar so the priest can finish. Oh great, now she’s drinking the christening water. No… wait… I was wrong, she’s just using it to spit out while she pretends she’s a water fountain.

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    You’re single because everyone around you has to be like, “Oh, okay, we’re being zany again, yup, this isn’t getting old, nope. Not at all. Just give me your fucking leg to hold again. Yeah, it’s fine. No, I love it. I love that every time we go to The fucking Cheesecake Factory I have to hold up your leg and make the waitress  walk under it while you sing a punk-pop version of Fergie’s London bridges.

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    I know that someone is going to send me a message like, “Tom, you know why you’re single? Because you’re a hateful asshole” but you’re wrong. I’m single because I’m an anorexic looking, sociopathic, hateful asshole.

     You’ve looked at like twenty pictures and aren’t you exhausted?

     Were you turned on, at any point, even or a moment?

    What’s that? Your vagina sealed up completely while you were reviewing those photographs?

     Exactly.

     Remember. Only you can save you from Delevingneing

                                         OH.

     And you if you still want to reblog Cara pics onto my dash, I leave you with this.