Your Dignity Will Take a Beating When You Are Tequila Tweeting!

GOD BLESS the noughties for the ever expanding platform it has provided us for total humiliation. Gone are the days when you can only wax lyrical about the flaws of your ex-boyfriend whilst dolefully nursing a bottle of Vodka infront of a paused rerun of Friends while your best friend kindly pretends to listen while texting a waiter she has a crush on.

NO. Why LIMIT the vastness of your alcohol-fuelled enlightenment to JUST plain old lifelong friend Lucy-from-London when you can BROADCAST these extremely moving, powerful, and lifechanging snippets of sage wisdom to the ENTIRE WORLD!

Why, wouldn't Great Aunt Anne who logs on to facebook after her 11am crumpet just LOVE to know the sexual shortcomings of your ex-boyfriend? And wouldn't your father just be so completely overjoyed to be alerted that you have given up on men and are advertising yourself as a guinea pig for lesbianism (incase you've just spent your adult life accidently chasing the wrong sex?)

I think that it is perfectly obvious that the noughties has taught us that YES, YES AND YES. Without a doubt, every little moment of Margherita Monday ("Going to Margherita Monday With the Girls!"..."At Margherita Monday With the Girls!"...."5 Margherita's Later and Still Going Strong With the Girls!..."Their izzznt anny tickeela in my MaRGRITA!"..."WHY R MEN SO SHIT?"..."BRIAN WHYYYY DONT YOU LOVVVEEE MEE") should, quite rightly, be recorded and published in a public forum.

God Bless Twitter. And God Bless Twitter TWOFOLD for allowing us to humiliate ourselves infront of complete strangers, celebrities, and world leaders. And, even better, for those of us who might recoil the next day at our tequila infused cyber escapades and actually try and remedy the situation...nice try ALCY! Twitter so helpfully sticks the dagger in "Delete this post? There is no UNDO"

Suck it up my depressed damsel-in-sick-mess. There is no undo. Hold your head high and embrace the fleeting moments of clarity you had the evening before. Maybe you were onto something in the first place*.

So, for some guidance on Tequila Tweeting, I have compiled a list of inspirational tweets. If you are going to do it, you may aswell do it right:

1. Try and remember the most embarassing and private thing your ex boyfriend told you and work it into a tweet. Casually. If he also has twitter- include him! Don't want him to miss out on the fun!

EG: Watching a tv show about herpes! Looks nasty! Never realized how traumatic that must have been for you @StudlyStewart

2. Why not try being completely inappropriate with a bloke you barely know, yet religiously stalk? Sexual advances via Twitter are SO irresistable! And not even remotely stalkerish/ scary/ mental patient!

EG: Planning my wedding with @hothenry! He hasn't proposed yet but the twinkle he had in his eye this morning when I saw him showering in his bathroom when I was casually straining my neck out of my parent's bedroom told me that a ring is IMMINENT!

3. Why not try and bitch about your work/work day/ boss/ desk buddy? They will totally take it as a joke. Sarcasm is best delivered via the internet.

EG: At work with @dulldiane, sorry I mean @dynamitediane! Just had a great meeting- noone knows I'm still drunk!

4. Find your exboyfriend's new girlfriend and offer her sage advice.

EG: Your boyfriend is the sweetest @babycakes69! Thanks for loaning me him last night! He's still in good working condition and his herpes has cleared up! hurrah!



*Probably not though. You alcoholic goon.

Subtle Butt to the Rescue!

We here at Life of Cringe (there are many of us) would like to express our sincerest gratitude to the ingenious makers of the amazingly-fun-to-say product "Subtle Butt"

First of all, this combination of words is like a trip to Disney Land for my mouth. Try it. "Subtle Butt" Say it. Embrace it. Waltz with it. "Subtle Butt". Just rolls off the tongue, doesn't it?

Anyhoo, these ingenius little minxes have devised a product to ELIMINATE fart odor. Just pop it in your panties or drop it in your drawers and bam, Bob's your uncle.

I believe that I have already expressed my opinion on the topic of girl farts, so I shall not digress into that heated subject again.

However, as a generally quite pessimistic and skeptical English person, once the initial elation of the birth of such an ingenious, life-changing product had died down, I began to realize the flaws in the otherwise perfect shrine to anal hygiene.

So, to the makers of Subtle Butt, I have a few rather pressing questions.

1. Where do men who are more inclined to Boxers as their underwear of choice, attach Subtle Butt? Is there not a VERY REAL danger that, dangling free from the man's thighs, Subtle Butt might pop out and dispose itself very publicly. How would the said Boxer-wearing-gentleman explain this?

2. If one is on a date, and one's date goes well, and one happens to find oneself lacking clothing, how might one explain the little padded gadget to one's date? Because, lets face it, if you are a Subtle Butt user, one can assume that you are either:

a) Anally Retentive. Literally. And are so consumed by the horror of public farting that you spent Vodka money on it.

b) Have really disgusting and smelly farts and should probably die alone anyway.

3. If I buy several packs, can you cut me a deal? Like 3 for 2 or something? Help a sister out? This is like free publicity for you guys. I'm owed some Subtle Butt love.