Men have always ruled the comedy scene. From dynamic duos such as Laurel and Hardy, Abbott and Costello and Jay and Silent Bob to teams such as the Happy Madison boys (Adam Sandler, David Spade, Rob Schneider, Peter Dante, Allen Covert and Nick Swardson) and the Frat Pack (Will Ferrell, Ben Stiller, Vince Vaughn, Owen and Luke Wilson and Steve Carrell).

There are virtually no female comedic ensembles who can sell movies like these guys can.

In the stand-up circuit, men generally receive the biggest reception. Recently, I went to a stand-up comedy review that featured twenty comics in one night. Of those twenty, only three women took the stage. Three. WTF?

Women are pretty damn funny, so why don’t we get the same appraisal as men get? Films like Old School put the Frat Pack on the map, while the hysterical chick flick The Sweetest Thing flopped at the box office. The Wedding Crashers cast has people rolling in the aisles, while far too many people have never seen Christina Applegate, Cameron Diaz, and Selma Blair sing The Penis Song.

I took this assignment to cover the 5 Funniest Women out there, but quickly realized there is just too much talent to narrow it down so far. That said, what follows is my personal list of five of the wittiest women in the world, along with some honorable mentions. I welcome feedback, comments, and nominations, because I’m sure I’ve missed some ladies that can more than keep up with the boys. Read More »

The thought of bathing suit shopping will make most women cringe. Those harsh lights. The mirrors. The way your legs look super pale after a winter of sweat pants and Uggs. And the extra few pounds that found their way onto your ass since the last time you saw yourself wearing so little.

Who would enjoy that?

I remember the first time I went bathing suit shopping with my mom. I was young, naive and didn’t care what my pudgy body looked like in that Barbie bathing suit. But my mom was a different story. I remember hearing the now-familiar gasp/shreik combination as she pulled on suit after suit…and came out empty handed…in tears.

It is sad but true (and recently proven in a poll by Fitness Magazine): Shopping is no leisure activity. In fact, to most women, it is a nightmare for their self-esteem. Fitness magazine polled 1,001 women about their experiences with shopping and some of the more staggering statistics are below: Read More »

“You’re a feminist, aren’t you?”

And with that devious rhetorical flanking manuver, you have lost the argument. Anything you say can and will be held against you in future debates. It doesn’t matter what an intelligent, erudite, level-headed individual you were before; you have now become the batsh*t crazy feminazi. Your mouth wiggles furiously but nobody hears anything you say.
Sometimes, I have to put my life on hold and just let myself be baffled.

Because you know what gets me? That guy who’s been insisting to me that Frank Miller isn’t a mysogynistic assh*le is probably a feminist himself. And if I were a betting man, I’d bet good money that you are too, even if you don’t know it.

Case in point: I was walking around London with a female friend, and a glance at the newspaper headlines lead to a debate about politics, then social issues, and then the f-word came up. “I’m not a feminist or anything,” she said. “I mean, I think everyone should be equal, and we should be allowed to do what we want, make our own choices, all that stuff. I think civil rights for everyone is obviously very important. But the whole man-hating thing, I don’t get that. I don’t think I’m a feminist.”

“Yeah? Is that so,” I said.

Because you know what? Feminism, at its core, is mostly about being nice to people. It’s not about hating men and their big, dumb penises, and if you asked most feminists, they probably wouldn’t tell you that all heterosexual sex is rape. The name is probably the worst part, because it implies that you either need to be a woman or believe they’re superior to men in some way. But it’s not about a battle of the sexes, and it’s not about choosing sides — well, to be more accurate, it’s about letting everyone choose their own side. Read More »

If people judged me only by what they read on this site, they would think I am quite obsessed with orgasms. And ice cream.

And they would be absolutely right.

The only thing better than a giant scoop of vanilla melting all over an oversized warm chocolate chip cookie that also happens to be smothered in whipped cream is…wait, where was I going with this? Oh yeah. There is truly only one thing better than that. And it is a mind-blowing orgasm.

Unfortunately (not for me, thank GOD), there are women out there who cannot make that statement. For some it is because they are on a diet and don’t know quite how good that cookie/ice cream thing can be. For others, which is SO much worse, it is because they have never had an orgasm.

NEVER.
Oh the horror!

Maybe it’s time they invest in The Slightest Touch. Only the best invention since the Nike Air Cole Haan pumps. This little guy (about the size of an iPod) gives women the ability to have an orgasm whenever they want, wherever they want. No need to take chances on a guy who can’t figure out how to do it anyway. No need to pay a massage therapist to do it for you! No, my friends, all you need is a bottle of Powerade and 30 minutes to get yourself to heaven. Read More »

I have been a 34-C for about 5 years now. Oddly, but as I’m sure you will all - as women of a certain age - understand, I had come to really identify as such. I was a 34-C. I was of slightly-larger-than-average-but-nothing-unusual proportions. At 5′0″ (in shoes), I figured 34-C was more than adequate for my small frame.Cut to a few months ago when I start noticing that my bras don’t fit. The band is fine, but my breasts are literally spilling out of the cups. What gives?

I thought, well, my bras are all over a year old. Maybe they’re just…shrinking? Do bras do that? So I got myself to the store and lo and behold, none of the 34-Cs fit. Finally, I picked up a 34-D. Ha ha, I laughed. There is no way that 34-C me is suddenly a freaking D-cup. No way in hell.

And yet–I was. The 34-D fit perfectly.

I was hit with a weird and unexpected mini-identity crisis. I was…a 34-D? But I’m a 34-C! Or…I was. I called my boyfriend to complain, but as soon as I said the words 34-D, he cheered. I mean, he literally cheered. And then I hung up. Read More »

I know that I am a woman of the new millennium, but I still cannot believe that in 2008 there are still people out there trying to control women’s bodies and what we choose to do with them. Especially doctors.

Recently, a federal rule was proposed in Minnesota that would eliminate the mandate for hospitals to provide emergency contraception to rape victims. This rule would “broaden the definition of abortion to include the most widely used forms of birth control, which can prevent implantation of a fertilized egg.”

“It elaborates that the rule change would mean doctors and nurses would not have to provide information on birth control, prescriptions or give referrals to get it elsewhere. Operating room technicians would not have to clean instruments used in a surgical procedure, the proposal said.” Read More »

I can’t speak for all women (even though I tend to try), but a lot of my self esteem comes from my ability to perform tasks well. Like bowling, or making people laugh or getting really good grades in school. My parents were never the type to stand over me and push me to do well. I pushed myself. Poor performance on an exam or in a class meant that I was not good at something and made me look bad next to my friends.

The fact that I did well in school left me with a lot of confidence and self worth when I moved on and began doing other things. I knew that I could do just about anything if I wanted to, which is how I approached the job hunt after college and how I continue to approach every task that is put in front of me. I know I am intelligent and capable and that leaves me with a sense of comfort and mental clarity as I go through life.

I can totally understand, then, the results of a recent study that claim that women who are expelled or drop out of high school experience a much higher rate of mental instability and depression than men.
For one thing, the inability to complete a task will weigh on anyone; especially one that will affect the course of the rest of your life. And, because women tend to be more in tune with their emotions, it makes sense that this would affect them more than their male counterparts. (Or at least what those macho, “I’m fine” boys are reporting.) Read More »

When it comes down to love, I’m a picky jerk. Prince Charming can march his white horse right up to my doorstep with roses and I won’t answer the door because he’s not ‘challenging’ enough. Let me take a moment to recount the ‘problems’ with my most serious of lovers over the last few years.

Guy A didn’t pay enough attention to me.
Guy B paid too much attention to me.
Guy C wasn’t reliable enough but
Guy D just had his life way too planned out.
Guy E wasn’t smart enough while
Guy F wasn’t social enough.

And this is how it always works.

I know deep in my soul that if I ever wanted a relationship to really WORK, I’d have to stop expecting it to be perfect. I’d have to stop throwing in my cards whenever there’s an argument and I’d have to stop climbing up on my pedestal every time I’m offended by a guy.

And I think this is an issue that a lot of people deal with, especially women. It seems to me like guys don’t need too much from a girl to be satisfied. In fact, most of my guy friends would boil it down to: Not being a crazy b*tch, being good in bed, and…uh….not being a crazy b*tch. But for girls, I think it’s a whole different ball game.

He should be funny but not obnoxious, smart but not pretentious, strong but still sensitive, supportive but with his own life, sexy but not sex-oriented, loyal but not obsessive, stable but not predictable, outgoing but enjoy nights in…

Oh. Dear. God. Read More »

I’m a hard worker and always have been. I started working when I was 14; I printed out cheap flyers advertising my babysitting capabilities and threw them in every mailbox in my town. I had my own little babysitting gigs and was doing quite well for myself; at $4.25 an hour, I thought I was making the big bucks.

As I grew older, I expanded my professional resume with retail positions, internships and jobs geared towards my career interests. I came out of college and now have a full-time job (and this super fun writing gig to keep me sane on the side) and am working towards getting the things I want for myself in life.

I consider myself - and many women just like me - to be a part of something new: the New Generation of 20-Something Women. No more relying on a man to determine financial status, stability or success; we are independent and have our own individual goals. Our own plans. Our fate in our hands.

Growing up, I learned that if you want something, you need to rely on yourself to get it and not someone else. I am taking that theory into account and notice that more females these days are too. Years ago, women were expected to find a man, get married, have children and keep the household. Rather than growing up and looking for our Mrs., 20-something women today are looking for a job, life experiences, travel and, most importantly, a life for themselves. Read More »

Oh man. Wednesdays kill me. Yes, it’s the middle of the week, but it’s only the middle of the week!  2.5 more days to go. And no good drink specials at the bar. What I wouldn’t give for a Boxed-Wine Wednesday right about now.

But wait! There is good news. Finally, something to be excited about on a sad, sad Wednesday morning:
Happy Endings.

Yeah, you read that right. And no, I am not talking about a giant piece of carrot cake (with extra frosting) after a great meal. I am talkin’ about happy endings. You know; the kind that every man dreams of when he goes in for a massage. Those infamous acts that are quite popular in East Asia.

I am talking about ORGASMS, people. Orgasms that you don’t have to get dressed up for. Orgasms that you don’t have to wear heels for. Or work for. Or bat your eyelashes for.

Orgasms you can just….order. Read More »