This article was inspired by SheWonHeWon.com, a new photoblog where you vote for who got the short end of the stick in a relationship. Check it out!

The social universe has an unspoken balance in place that ensures that life makes sense. We hang out with people as cool as we are, we date within our acceptable range, and people that are born into wealth and status run our countries. When some son of a bitch tries to upset that balance, bad things happen. Remember the French Revolution? That happened because one of Quasimodo’s descendants landed a smoking-hot art model. The Civil War? Some mustachioed sea donkey from the North decided she wanted to date a studly land owner from Alabama.  Name any natural disaster and it can be traced back to some fugly idiot not following the rules of romance. If you mess with the balance, the universe compensates with blood.

Despite this delicate equilibrium, matchmaking is never perfect. Occasionally it is so uneven that it elicits a deep sense of injustice from our communal soul, sort of like any time Keanu Reeves gets another acting gig. You know something isn’t right. You can feel it. Someone is getting something they don’t deserve.

So, you walking dumpster, how do you make things right once you have a hottie in your white-knuckled, kill-me-to-take-it grip? How do you cope with dating someone that is hotter than you? Grab your Moleskine and take a seat, my child. We have much to discuss. Read the full story

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Apparently I was supposed to run my selection last night. What would a TTM birthday celebration be if it weren’t kind of half-assed? Exactly. Thanks for validating me. Anyway, this one here is one of my favorites from the Coping Guide series. You know these kinds of people. I know these kinds of people. Hell, you might even be this kind of person. No matter who you are, this bad boy is guaranteed to make you shoot mucus-laden chocolate milk out of your nose and/or your ass. Enjoy.

Isn’t love amazing? It really is. Nothing else like it. Not even drugs. It’s a rare and beautiful thing when you finally meet that special someone. Who knows where cupid struck you both with his arrow? Maybe you had a class together. Maybe you met through a friend. Maybe you met on Myspace. Whatever the medium upon which your personal Romeo and Juliet began (except without the mutual suicide!), I’m sure you’ve experienced just how hard it is to keep that fireball of romance to yourself. Luckily for you, we here at The Talking Mirror are in the self-help business and have come up with a guide just for you and your boo bear.*

Step One: Always Maintain Physical Contact
No matter what happens, never forget this step. Your love will explode into a dust of broken promises and insecurities you never knew you could have. Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, whoever you’re with; none of it matters. The rule always applies. You must always be touching each other. It doesn’t have to be normal or even practical. It just has to be. Common examples:

The “arm around the waist even while walking, running, swimming, or sitting.” This is a pretty common choice amongst the love-stricken. Keep your arm around your lover’s waist no matter how inconvenient it may get, even as you try to run up the escalator or go through airport security. If you don’t, they will disappear instantly. Guaranteed. Read the full story

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So there you are, innocently battering pedestrians with a bus in Grand Theft Auto when you hear that dreaded, menacing sound; a warning of sorts, it’s the closest thing to a rattlesnake’s “chchchchchch” that mankind has yet evolved. The hair on your arms stands on end, your body tenses, your butt cheeks clench, and your palms begin to sweat. You feel your toes begin to push down on the ground slightly, ready to run (instinctively you opt for the “flight” over the “fight” because you’re a pansy). You try to ignore it, but it just gets louder and louder, unwilling to bear your charade of ignorance. Finally, the sound reaches a volume and tone that elicits your response, a reflex aimed at self-preservation.

“Schnuckums!? Are you listening to me?”

“Uh…” You say, your voice waivering. “Yeah babe, I hear you.”

“Are you ready?” the predator bellows, baiting the prey.

“Ready for what… beautiful?” You reply, hoping that somehow the interrogative will provide you an escape while tossing in the compliment at the end to ease the delivery, like the flavoring those bastards put in NyQuil.

“Don’t even try that crap on me. Get off your ass. We’re going shopping.” The snare tightens around your feet. You’ve been caught. Resistance is now futile.

Now that you’ve been reduced to the status of indentured servant, there are a few things you must remember in order to survive. The full moon that is a monthly sale has turned your once kind, sweet girlfriend into a vicious, bloodthirsty monster. A wereshopper, if you will. Like a lycanthrope, but much more subtle in its preferred murderous methods.  You’re about to venture into a dark, dangerous place. Stick with me, and you’ll be stronger, more courageous, and not single when it’s over. Welcome to the jungle.

Read the full story

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spelling "hot" incorrectly means it's sexier

Man, look at her over there, being all hott and stuff. Mmmm hmmm, hott with two t’s. Don’t you wish you could talk to her? Maybe for extended periods of time, perhaps via a telephonic device? That sounds like a fun idea. But how do you get to that point? It’s a treacherous trail to blaze, son. If you’re a total sissy, I mean. Then it’s treacherous. If you’re a sweet master of romance like myself, it’s just another phone number for my little black book. And by “little” I mean “the size of most dictionaries.”

You’re going to want to print this guide out, fold it up, and put it in your wallet. Discreetly pull it out and unfold it when you’re at a bar, a coffee shop, or Victoria’s Secret, having with you a step by step guide to getting that babe’s digits. Another idea – this is progressive, but it’ll show you’ve got heart – tattoo a summarized list on your forearm. That way, when you get this chick’s numero (that’s number in Spanish) and you fall in love Eharmony-style, you can show her that tatt and say “baby, that’s how bad I wanted to know your mind.” She’ll be gushing, friend. Gushing. It’s time. Walk with me. Read the full story

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These are hard, hard times friends. The Dow Jones is binging and purging, the Nasdaq is anorexic, and the S&P… well the S&P was pretty emaciated before anyway. You’re low on cash, and no matter how many T.I. songs you listen to, you just don’t have any “rubber band banks” in your pocket with which to pay a fair wage to all your “ho’s.”  Well brothers and sisters, I’m hear to walk you through these penny-pinching times. There are plenty of ways to cut corners so that you can afford to continue to purchase reasonably priced Apple products. See that? That was sarcasm, and baby that stuff is free.

Unlike other guides, I’m going to provide the advice here in the first person. I’m here to lead by example through this post-apocalyptic land where even Kevin Costner can’t get work making crappy movies. That’s right, these are going to be my personal testimonies about my brilliant, money saving strategies. If there were an 800 number on the screen, this is where you would call now. Read the full story

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Reading this article has transmitted the Ebola virus into your bloodstream. You are going to die.

April Fool’s! Got you! Hilarious, right? A lot of your friends are going to think so too, and so I’ve created a guide in order to prepare you for what will no doubt be the funniest pranks ever thought up by mankind. You’re going to need to know how to react to these pranks so that your “friends” don’t get the glory or the satisfaction out of your humiliation/anger/deep, deep sadness. I am going to teach you how to “roll with the punches” so that you can save face, and in turn splash the cold ice water of “not funny” all over the faces of your friends.

Let’s start out with a basic rule: don’t believe anything anyone tells you on April Fool’s day, even if there is some kind of evidence proving they’re “not lying.” Some people will do anything just to be able to point and laugh at you and scream “oh, oh, I got you, oh, you’re so gotten, you’re an idiot, oh man, suck it,” until they pass out or until you violently murder them. If you see a building on fire and someone is reaching out of the window screaming for help, don’t fall for it. Those pranksters will go to the edges of the Earth just to see you blush in embarrassment after pulling an entire family out of a burning building only for everyone to turn on you and say “April Fool’s!” It’s not time to be had, it’s time to have. Read the full story

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true love is hearts and circles shooting out of your head.

Yes, yes, I know. It’s been a long time since we’ve spent some time together, talking through our problems and becoming better people. I apologize for the hiatus of my massive wisdom. I’ve been busy writing my autobiography How to Cope with Being Awesome: The Life of Conor McCarthy. I’ve finally finished all 1200 pages of that though, and it’s time to get back to helping you navigate this horrifying labyrinth that is your everyday life. Today I’m going to guide you through the section of this maze that we call the First Date with some succulent bread crumbs of advice. Romance is near, friends. Walk with me.

First Things First
You’re already ahead of the game in that you’re going on a date at all.  You landed a phone number (most likely) and a date, so you at least have that trophy. No one can take that from you, even if your date decides that you’re “the creepiest guy she’s ever met” and that you “have the style of a Las Vegas street performer.” She’s a stinky skank anyway. (Yeah, that’s right Susan. Stinky. Like a petting zoo.) I’m going to split this guide into a section for the ladies and a section for the gentlemen. The first date experience is different for both genders, just like urinating. Read the full story

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Let’s get one thing straight from the get-go: this guide isn’t written from personal experience. I am from Texas and Kent is from Texas’ attic (also known as Oklahoma) and everybody knows people south of the Mason-Dixon line are born with a certain charm that the ladies can’t resist. Top that off with starting our own awesome, super successful, multi-million dollar humor franchise and, well, let’s just say we don’t need this guide. Two women once fist fought each other in a bar over getting Kent’s email address. Not even his phone number. This other chick straight tackled me and begged me to go out on a date with her and her twin sister. That’s right. Loving the life we live, living the life we love. They call me LL Cool C for a reason. Anyway, enough about me and my totally serious, completely real and non-delusional life.

And another thing: Although Kent and I are undoubtedly irresistible and statuesque, we’re also not condoning fornication or promiscuity. We’re good Christian boys and we’re also afraid of children and gonorrhea. I’m here to teach you how to get a date and maybe even a really sloppy french kiss that was probably better in your imagination. Read the full story

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December 31st is upon us and with it comes an evening of binge drinking, bad decisions, and then the declaration of resolutions to never again make those bad decisions. Some of us will go to a bar or club. Some will attend a party at a friend’s residence. Some will sit alone on their couch while they weep and drink themselves into oblivion. Still, some others will spend the evening with their families, pretending that playing Monopoly: Star Wars Edition with the younger cousins is “seriously super fun” and truthlessly declaring that “really Mom, there’s no where I’d rather be than with my family on New Years.” We know you’re a liar, and so does Jesus. Who wouldn’t want to kiss someone at midnight rather than hug their crazy Aunt Janie and then listen for thirty minutes while she tells you how she’s not going to eat Little Debbies this year because they give her gas? We love you crazy Aunt Janie, but you’re overweight and I don’t like to think about the gaseous products of your digestive processes. I’d rather be kissing a babe. Or a girl that was “kind of cute.” Or – to reference Kent’s sexist article about rating women’s attractiveness – maybe even a “3″ if the lights were real dim and I had a few glasses of bubbly in my belly. Sound desperate? Maybe. Let’s just say this recession has effected a lot of economies.

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The world is a dark, mean, ugly place. If you ever have any doubts of that, just watch The Hills. It’s a show about beautiful rich people that MTV decided to make famous. Truly, there is no such thing as real justice. And that’s especially true with you, neoliberal kid.  Your heart is bleeding and you plan on drowning all the world’s bad dreams in your justicey lifeforce. I shouldn’t say drowning – that’s violent. You’re just going to talk about it until all the world’s problems get irritated and leave. That’s more fitting. While the rest of us simply accept/ignore the darker things in life, you wear them around your neck like a big, heavy, depressing necklace. But perhaps sometimes you’re not sure about how you direct the blood that is inevitably gushing out of your heart. Don’t cry. I’m here to help.

Step One: Wear the Correct Name Tag
Are you a neoliberal or a social democrat? Or are you just a democrat? Or are you a socialist? I’d avoid calling yourself just a “democrat”; that just makes you sound like an old timer. You’re more conscious than that. Your democracy needs an adjective. And you probably shouldn’t say “socialist” either. Sarah Palin would likely show up at your house and call all your friends terrorists. It really doesn’t matter which one of the other two you choose, though. They both sound cutting edge. Read the full story

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