You Thought She Was Just Taking a Bath. What She Did Next Will Amaze You.

Well kids, it’s about time for another inspirational song installment here at LiterallyNuts. Last time, we responded to Jason Derulo’s questions about our butts and our jeans, and we kindly asked Snoop Dogg not to “take it out” and “wipe it off” around us.

Today, I heard a brand new, ever-progressive song on the radio. The artist is a woman named Tove Lo. I have never heard of this person, because I’m old now. (I hit 28, and suddenly every major recording artist and Oscar winner is like 12 years younger than me.)

If you, too, are 28 and no longer know what the cool kids are listening to, here’s a picture of Ms. Lo for reference:

She's sad because you don't know who she is.

She’s sad because you don’t know who she is.

You may have noticed by now that I super love it when the media portrays women as strong, independent individuals rather than sex objects and idiots, and so of course I knew I loved this song the moment I heard the words “I threw up in the tub.”

Without further ado, I present to you the lyrics to Tove Lo’s “Habits” (with my constructive comments and suggestions, of course!).

“I eat my dinner in my bathtub
Then I go to sexclubs
Watching freaky people gettin’ it on
It doesn’t make me nervous
If anything I’m restless
Yeah, I’ve been around and I’ve seen it all”

Honestly there’s so much goodness going on here that I’m going to have to do this bit by bit.

“I eat my dinner in my bathtub”

No one does this. No, seriously, literally no one does this. It’s unsanitary and really just an accident waiting to happen. Also it’s weird.

“Then I go to sexclubs”

Okay…people probably do that.

“Watching freaky people gettin’ it on”

Is that what you do at sex clubs? Isn’t it quicker just to download porn?

“It doesn’t make me nervous”

That would make me nervous, for a number of reasons. I would probably be like, “Am I bothering these freaky people? I wonder if I’m making them uncomfortable. Should I ask them? No, they’re pretty busy. I don’t think I should touch anything. This is yucky. Where’s the buffet?”

“If anything I’m restless”

Have you tried knitting?

“Yeah, I’ve been around and I’ve seen it all”

Oh, so you have tried knitting. Fair enough.

“I get home, I got the munchies
Binge on all my Twinkies”

Do they still make Twinkies?

“Throw up in the tub”

Why are you BACK in the tub? Do you have anything else in your house besides a tub? Do you have a bed?

“Then I go to sleep”

In the tub, I’m assuming.

“And I drank up all my money
Tasted kinda lonely”

Maybe you should try drinking beverages instead of money.

“You’re gone and I gotta stay
High all the time
To keep you off my mind
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh
High all the time
To keep you off my mind
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh
Spend my days locked in a haze
Trying to forget you babe
I fall back down
Gotta stay high all my life
To forget I’m missing you
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh”

Ohhhhhh so you’re high. You definitely should have said that earlier. This all makes so much more sense now. Especially the Twinkies.

“Pick up daddies at the playground
How I spend my daytime”

Soooo, like, are these actual daddies? Of children? Are they at the playground with their kids? Because then I think they should probably stay with their kids. If they’re at the playground without their kids, then you 100% should not talk to them.

“Loosen up the frown,
Make them feel alive
I’ll make it fast and greasy
I know my way too easy”

This is a terrible idea. Stop doing this. Also where are their kids during this time?

“Staying in my play pretend”

By “my play pretend” you mean the tub again right?

“Where the fun ain’t got no end
Ooh
Can’t go home alone again
Need someone to numb the pain
Ooh”

But your tub is at home! You love the tub.

“You’re gone and I gotta stay
High all the time
To keep you off my mind
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh
High all the time
To keep you off my mind
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh
Spend my days locked in a haze
Trying to forget you babe
I fall back down
Gotta stay high all my life
To forget I’m missing you
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh”

mariah

So, like…is this what music is now? Seriously? Just words that don’t really go together and don’t make any sense and we’ve all just decided to sort of accept it?

I’m gonna go throw up in my tub.

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Anti-Aging: When Your Oldness is Simply Unacceptable

When exactly did ‘aging’ become absolutely the worst thing a woman could do?

terrifying

Anti-aging from the people who brought you Silence of the Lambs.

Seriously, watch like six minutes of commercials and you will see three ads for cars (featuring young sexy women if the ad target is men or 20-something sexy moms if the ad target is women), four ads promoting weight loss (featuring young sexy women regardless of the ad’s demographic), and approximately 78,034 ads about aging. Or, rather, the sheer depravity of actually looking as if you are aging.

Basically, if you are a woman, there is no worse thing you can do than age. Really. I mean, you can age in the literal sense, like have birthdays and stop wearing mini-skirts, but you absolutely must never age in the way that involves getting wrinkles or not being sexy. Because being sexy is, as we all know, The Most Important Thing A Woman Will Ever Do. Ever.

And aging is, as we all know, The Most Horrible Thing A Woman Will Ever Do. We know this because the tv tells us so. Think about it: at any given time, your television (and computer and phone and various billboards and store windows and busses and salespeople and magazines and celebrities) are reminding you that you pretty much look like hell. Grey hair? Dye it immediately. Blemishes or dark spots? Try this cleanser. Bags under your eyes? Cover that shit up, girl. Worry lines on your forehead? What – do you not want to get a man? Stretchmarks or cellulite? I literally just threw up in my mouth.

Look younger AND change your ethnicity!

Let’s look at the term “anti-aging” for a moment. What does that actually mean? Do you know what the only real “anti-aging” product is? A gun. And do you know what the advertisement would be? A commercial of a young, sexy woman, with long, flowy, grey-free hair, and she would lay around in peach-colored satin sheets before saying, “Want to really stop the clock on aging? Now you can!” And then she would shoot herself in the face.

Oh, and then she would die. Because anti-aging is being dead. Or it would be some freakish Benjamin Button situation in which you actually get younger and younger with each passing year, and if this happened, I can guarantee that no one would like you. Seriously. You would be like, “Omg you guys! I’ve figured out the secret to anti-aging!” And everyone would be like “Get away from me you terrifying adult toddler!”

Once your shed your old zombie skin, you can re-emerge wearing the skin of the unsuspecting human you just ate.

Once you shed your old zombie skin, you can re-emerge wearing the skin of the unsuspecting human you just ate.

See the problem here? You really can’t win. This is because the whole “anti-aging” concept is a myth. A hoax. It’s impossible. And yet, it seems to be getting worse.

Maybe our great-grandmothers didn’t have this problem because people only used to live to like 30. Maybe back then, age was revered. People were like, “Yep, made it to 42! High-five.”

Somewhere along the way, though, a woman aging became pretty much synonymous with a woman going on a puppy-murdering spree, or pooping in the heating vent, or eating your leftover Chinese food. Basically, it is NOT OKAY.

So knock it off, already. Either kill yourself or turn into a baby, because anything else is really grossing everyone out.