F%@K, Marry, Kill: USC, Huma Abedin, and Flat-Bottomed Boys
3:18 pm, July 25th | by Colette McIntyre
Yes, we have turned “F%@k, Marry, Kill,” the infamous slumber party thought experiment, into a conduit for rehashing the week’s biggest/weirdest news stories. You may notice that our choices are a tiny bit different from the F/M/K that you know and love, but the premise is entirely the same. Join us each week as we break down the news in the most analytical and contextual way we know how: determining which story we would, like, totally do it with.
Make Tender and Consensual Love To: The Men Who Are Injecting Fat Into Their Butts To Keep Their Pants Up
According to a story in the New York Times, a number of men have selected to undergo a procedure that injects their belly-fat into their butts. These pancake-butt survivors were sick of fighting against gravity and pulling belts ever tighter around their hips in an effort to keep their pants up. So they changed themselves and, unwittingly, their lives. Now, when at the club with their friends, these beltless bros can sidle up to some cutie with confidence. “I want to RSVP to your body party.” They lean closer, shift their weight to one hip, and drop their voice to a seductive whisper: “And I’m going to need a +1…for my butt.”
There are two reasons why I selected these former flatbutts as the recipients of this week’s love-making: 1) I think they need it. It seems to me that they have some (gluteus) maximus insecurity issues. Perhaps all they need as inspiration to carpe diem is for me to carpe dat-ass, and 2) I really need to feel these GMbOs — genetically modified booties.
Marry: Huma Abedin
Oh, girl. I’m sure you thought your days of playing the wronged wife were over but unfortunately your husband, Anthony “I Can’t Stop Taking Pictures Of My” Weiner, had other plans, other sexts, and — surely — other, creepier uses for LinkedIn that my college adviser failed to tell me about. There’s an old proverb that my mother had stitched onto all of our throw pillows: “All is Fair in Love and Dick Pics.” While I believe this is true, I don’t think anything or anyone has been fair to you, Huma. You are a poised, powerful (called a “rising star of American politics” by Time), gorgeous (I want to dedicate an ardent saxophone riff to your bone structure), and whip-smart woman who is stuck in an Abbott and Costello routine a Weiner’s wiener. So I will marry you, Huma, in the most platonic way, so that we can split magnums of rosé, watch Bravo, and tell each other we are too good for that so-and-so while wiping off our cleansing masques. I promise to never judge what you DVR, to always refill the Brita, and keep all sexts to myself. You deserve that. At the very least, you deserve that.
Condemn to a Lifetime of Persistent Despair, False Hope, and Halting, Self-Conscious Sex: The USC Campus Police, Which Decided That A Woman Wasn’t Raped Because The Alleged Assailant Didn’t Orgasm
The University of Southern California is currently under federal investigation for allegedly failing to respond to reports of sexual violence and rape on campus. One of the complainants claims that she was told by a DPS (Department of Public Safety) detective that campus police determined she wasn’t raped because her alleged attacker did not orgasm. Another student, who attempted to report a sexual assault at a frat, was told that women should not “go out, get drunk, and not expect to be raped.” Because of course. That makes sense. That’s law and justice and not at all THE WORST THINGS I HAVE EVER HEARD.
USC officials and DPS, I sentence you to an eternity of sleepless nights during which you can’t stop thinking about all the opportunities you failed to seize, all the bad jokes you made in front of your well-respected peers, and all your former partners who were right about you when they said you are the boiled broccoli — nay, the off-brand corn flakes of people.