Flavor of the Week: Jewish Boys

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Right now, your newsfeed is cluttered with this article shared over, and over–and over–again. The very talented Laura Argintar’s latest contribution to Elite Daily, “Why A Jewish Man Makes The Ideal Husband For Any Girl” is another piece that confirms everything our dying grandmothers taught us when their last words were “marry a mensch who makes his latkes with a Cuisinart and not with a cheese grater.” I love this piece as much as I loved my one pair of Century 21-bought Juicy sweatpants in the seventh grade. However, I thought it needed some FYD pizzaz. Here’s an addendum, reminding us why we always like our fro-yo better when it’s kosher 😉 😉 ;).

1. Jewish boys value the nicer material things, like watches and a good manscape. They–especially the ones from Long Island–are the perfect amount of metrosexual.

2. They will never judge you for eating a bagel. They may judge you for eating everything else, but they definitely respect the bagel. Goyim just don’t get the difference between normal carbs and bagel carbs, you know?

3. Also, they will never judge you for putting smelly ingredients, such as lox AND scallion cream cheese AND onion, on that bagel.

4. They know how to properly party: it isn’t a fiesta unless you’re in a room with a minimum of 300 people. His Bar Mitzvah ain’t no cocktail party. It was the royal wedding, bitches.

5. You’ll never have to worry about Jewish boys not wanting kids. They value the necessity of reproduction to keep the tribe alive.

6. He’ll probably make a lot of money (working in finance, the jewelry business, or any other stereotypical profession you want to throw our way) but he’ll also be super cheap frugal with whatever he makes (aside from your Caribbean vacations).

7. When planning your wedding or the Bar/Bat Mitzvahs of your children, it’ll be super easy to agree on a guest list. Even if you’re from different tri-state area states, you know most of the same people in common, anyway.

8. Say the J-word, and Mom will love him.

9. If he goes bald, he can always just wear a kippah, covering up his lack of hair and making him look like an NJB (nice Jewish boy) at the same time! Utilizing the kippah as a two-for-one deal is something us Jews would love to do, anyway.


Flavor of the Week: Jewish Boys

jonah-hill-paul-rudd-seth-rogen-jason-segel

Right now, your newsfeed is cluttered with this article shared over, and over–and over–again. The very talented Laura Argintar’s latest contribution to Elite Daily, “Why A Jewish Man Makes The Ideal Husband For Any Girl” is another piece that confirms everything our dying grandmothers taught us when their last words were “marry a mensch who makes his latkes with a Cuisinart and not with a cheese grater.” I love this piece as much as I loved my one pair of Century 21-bought Juicy sweatpants in the seventh grade. However, I thought it needed some FYD pizzaz. Here’s an addendum, reminding us why we always like our fro-yo better when it’s kosher 😉 😉 ;).

1. Jewish boys value the nicer material things, like watches and a good manscape. They–especially the ones from Long Island–are the perfect amount of metrosexual.

2. They will never judge you for eating a bagel. They may judge you for eating everything else, but they definitely respect the bagel. Goyim just don’t get the difference between normal carbs and bagel carbs, you know?

3. Also, they will never judge you for putting smelly ingredients, such as lox AND scallion cream cheese AND onion, on that bagel.

4. They know how to properly party: it isn’t a fiesta unless you’re in a room with a minimum of 300 people. His Bar Mitzvah ain’t no cocktail party. It was the royal wedding, bitches.

5. You’ll never have to worry about Jewish boys not wanting kids. They value the necessity of reproduction to keep the tribe alive.

6. He’ll probably make a lot of money (working in finance, the jewelry business, or any other stereotypical profession you want to throw our way) but he’ll also be super cheap frugal with whatever he makes (aside from your Caribbean vacations).

7. When planning your wedding or the Bar/Bat Mitzvahs of your children, it’ll be super easy to agree on a guest list. Even if you’re from different tri-state area states, you know most of the same people in common, anyway.

8. Say the J-word, and Mom will love him.

9. If he goes bald, he can always just wear a kippah, covering up his lack of hair and making him look like an NJB (nice Jewish boy) at the same time! Utilizing the kippah as a two-for-one deal is something us Jews would love to do, anyway.


Flavor of the Week: Justin Bieber

Yes, it’s shocking that I’ve never written about J. Biebs before, but it’s also shocking that his downward spiral didn’t start the moment people first compared his looks to those of Ellen Degeneres, Miley Cyrus, or any other token lesbian in pop culture. Whatever, we all surprise ourselves sometimes. And so, the time has come for Justin Bieber to receive the FYD spotlight. Justin is like Eurotart. Technically, he’s yummy enough to be the flavor every week. But you can’t spell “Eurotart” without the “tart” and that’s a fact.

This week, Justin made headlines for his unbelievable performance as a teen sensation that doesn’t talk to anyone politely unless he/she was on Disney at some point or made out with James Franco in Spring Breakers.  TMZ released a video showing Biebs being a total dick during deposition with the lawyer of a certain paparazzo who is suing the Bieb Team for assault. Well, if this guy caught up with Kristen Bell’s new charity initiative (#savethefamous), he would know that he was doing serious harm to Bieber in the first place. Justin is so delicate and sensitive. His hobbies include drag racing and Xanax! Justin’s $wag coach should be getting a $eriou$ rai$e because Bieber can really, really put on a show.

To my dismay, Justin Bieber has evolved into somewhat of a joke (can you tell?). It’s a shame because we all thought he was something special when we saw home footage of him playing an acoustic guitar on the streets of Canada. We also all thought that if there was ever a superstar us nice Jewish girls would have the opportunity to sleep with, it would probably be him. I feel like he’d be into the Long Island accents, you know?

My guilty pleasure is eternally Believe Acoustic. Perhaps it’s a subconscious effort to salvage the Justin Bieber we all once knew and loved. In order to preserve the sanctity of the closest thing current sixth graders will ever have to Michael Jackson, let’s recall some of Bieber’s greatest moments…

The music video where he makes a shout out to Selena and we all wished we were her:

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The days of the coconut head:

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This photo in general:

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This song:

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And, now, this mugshot:

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LYLAS, Justin.


Flavor of the Week: Being Stressed Out as F***

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Everyone loves to just walk around saying “Ugh, I’m literally so stressed out right now.” Stress is everywhere, embodied in every kvetching student, in every mother of three children, and in every girl who breathes. It is the symbol of our generation that thrives on espresso, that doesn’t really sleep at all, and that has to deal with the most competitive job market and higher education system in the world.

The worst thing about all of this isn’t even how suckish being stressed feels; it’s that everyone is stressed, so no one’s really stressed, and it’s become an acceptable and normal thing to constantly feel like you’re swimming in a kiddie pool with Tilikum (Tilikum, for those of you who are unaware, is the killer whale in the focus of my fav documentary, Blackfish).

Because I’ve been stressed out since I, as a wee newborn, witnessed my mother birth my placenta, I thought I could offer a few tips in dealing with stress.

Do: drink coffee. It’ll keep you going.

Don’t: talk to other people. Because you’re just going to take all of your stress out on them and then you’ll look like a bitch. Of course you probably are a bitch, but it’s best to hide that at all costs and whenever possible.

Also, don’t: talk to your boyfriend. He will inevitably piss you off.

Don’t: be around people who chew and/or breathe loudly. They will also piss you off. And distract you.

Do: yoga. Cliché, yes. But it’s a great way to kind-of work out and kind-of take a nap during shavasana.

Don’t: smoke a cigarette. No matter how cool you think they make you look, they just don’t. They also don’t actually make you less stressed. Post-boge, you still have an overwhelming amount of shit to do so it makes more sense to stop wasting time taking years off your life and instead just like, work!!!

Do, but also don’t: stress eat. Stress is great for binge eaters. If you say you’re stressed while eating a piece of cheesecake at 3pm (ya know, just an afternoon snack!) or while eating an alfredo pasta, pepperoni pizza, and a giant snickerdoodle cookie at 1am (a.k.a. me last Tuesday night #sorrynotsorry), then everyone is like “Oh, ok, you’re off the hook for not trying to mimic Kendall Jenner’s chopstick-like frame at this moment in time.” However, stressing can be a great way to be like “Ahhh my tummy is in such knots! I cannot seem to stomach a thing!” and shed a few pounds.

Do: go to bed early, and do something for yourself before you go to bed. I’m not saying go to sleep at 10pm, but don’t go to sleep at 2am. I usually work until 10:30ish, then whip off my bra immediately (remember, ladies: no bra, no problem), and then get in bed to watch an episode of Girls. Glass of wine, optional.

Though stress is the most chronic illness of ever, it is something that we can combat together. One last tip: cry. Cry a lot. But stay positive! You will get through this! (Ha. Ha. Ha.)


Flavor of the Week: Jaden Smith Instagram Roundup

This has been going on for far too long and has been flying under the radar far too quietly. I feel as though I must take the liberty of exposing Jaden Smith’s Instagram account to the public.

Jaden Smith looks like The Weeknd and spits godly phrases like Yeezy. He acts on screen like Taylor Lautner circa The Adventures of Shark Boy and Lava Girl. And that about sums it up.

I have a really strange talent for finding semi-famous people’s social media accounts and then obsessively following their lives until I know almost everything about them. I tried to make Jaden Smith one of my stalkees, but it just didn’t work. His guard is too raised; his thoughts too deep. As I attempt to deconstruct the Instagram photos shared by @iputthesocietyonmyback (something Jaden really does, especially valued at $8 million at the age of 15), you’ll hopefully see what I mean.

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Here, Jaden turns geometry into something trippy as balls. I am wondering if he is implying that this is just the start of his passion for paper pyramid building. Will he be building more pyramids? Will he be gifting those pyramids? Will Jaden Smith send me a paper pyramid? I am v excited to see where his paper pyramid endeavors take him.

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In other words, “selfié.” Jaden freestyles in this caption, revealing a passion for the Twilight series, which he wants to watch in a light blue room. He’s lucky that he has enough money to paint a room light blue just to watch a Twilight movie in it. Jaden comes to terms with his ridiculousness, warning others not to end up like him, “Young Black And Delirious.” Don’t ignore the second stanza, either. BTW, I think you mean *too, Jaden.

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Oh, cool. Thx 4 the update.

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Yes, yes. Enchant them with the White Silk Pants. Those are always a winner. Also, I do not see any young dumb scamps in this black and white photo of LA!!!! I wonder if his fingers ever get tired of typing with capital letters. Eh?

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Ready for Hawaii or ready to become a dementor? I’m kinda into this one, though. Super ironic.

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Yes, Jaden, you protect the Kardashian sisters and their pretty blonde friend in an Iron Man suit. Jaden posted this to remind us of his inability to blend into society–the society that is, after all, on his back. I wish I was the privileged child of a celebrity. Then maybe I could look cool pretending every word is a proper noun, too.

That’s all for this week. Check out Jaden Smith: the philosophical poet of our generation on Insta to gain more wordly insights.


Flavor of the Week: How I Really Met Your Mother

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As we’ve come to know too well, the times are a-changin’. What once was nice and traditional has now become outdated and prudish. Girls bare more skin at Bar Mitzvahs than I do on the beach. Hell, they don’t even wear dresses to Bar Mitzvahs anymore. Now, it’s all about the crop top and shorts combo. I commend the trend, but when I have a daughter of my own I’ll make sure she relies on other “in” pieces… like oversized turtlenecks, for example.

My grandparents met through a mutual friend. My grandfather called my grandmother, introduced himself, and asked if she would “marry [him] this afternoon.” It was classy. My grandma wore white gloves on their date to the zoo. I’m all about it.

My parents met in standards more era-appropriate–on a college street corner on Halloween. Later that night, my dad serenaded my mom by playing her righty guitar upside down (he was a lefty). Slightly more edgy, but as charming as ever, to say the least.

I thought I’d share some ways for you to tell your children in ten or fifteen years from now about how you really met their mother–likely a story neglect of white gloves, potentially containing a good serenade (but only if one of you was, like, on molly at a rave or something like that).

1. “We liked the same @JewBoyProblems tweet. Then, I stalked her on Twitter and she seemed like the perfect balance of Long Island and sleepaway camp-cool for me.”

2. “As soon as I found out that he was @JewBoyProblems, I knew Bubbe would approve.”

3. “So, son, there used to be this thing called Tinder…”

4. “We were both waiting on line at Juice Generation and she complimented me on my desert boots.”

5. “We didn’t go to the same co-ed camp, but we had socials…”

6. “She made a naked video of herself and somehow every thirteen-year-old in the Tri-State Area got a hold of it. I used it as a conversation starter when we met in college.”

7. “My mom was her SoulCycle instructor.”

8. “I know you wouldn’t think that the Boca West club pool could be a romantic spot, but…”

9. “I was ZBT, she was SDT, and the rest was history.”

10. “We were on the same Westcoast Connection Europe teen tour!” (Funny sidenote: I went to the Westcoast website to find a photo to pair with this, but I recognized too many of the kids in all of the promos and didn’t want to make them feel super awk when they heard their face was plastered across The FYD)

11. “I held her hair back for her at a tailgate. She thought I was the nicest guy in the world.”

12. “We had friends in common and I kept liking all of her #tbt’s.”

13. “I was standing behind her in line at Pinkberry and offered to pay for her fro-yo.” (My husband to my child)

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Flavor of the Week: Valentine’s Day

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A week ago, I wasn’t sure if my “Valentine” knew about Valentine’s. He kept referring to February 14th as “February 14th” and not as “Valentine’s Day.” It could have been intentional, sure. But it also could have been because he lives under a rock. I assumed it was the latter. I also devised a devious plan.

I figured I wouldn’t bring it up. I’d wait it out and see if the V-word would ever make its way into our vocabulary. If I were to write about Valentine’s Day before I saw him on February 14th, he would have seen it, and my plan to make him figure it out on his own–or else–would have been tragically ruined. I was creating a loophole, expecting–or maybe even hoping–that February 14th would come and I would be able to say, “Happy Valentine’s Day to you too, Babe.” The “babe” would obviously be in a very rude and sarcastic tone, and he would owe me everything for a lifetime because of it.

Girls are completely evil. In what sick, twisted world would anyone want her Valentine to forget Valentine’s Day? Apparently, this one.

Eventually, I found out that he knows Valentine’s Day is this Friday. I’ll miss my evil plan, but it was time to part ways. I feel terrible for boys who have to deal with girls like me every February 14th–or, for that matter, boys who have to deal with any girls at all. Valentine’s Day is full of glitter, hearts, chocolate, and contradiction.

Girls who say they hate Valentine’s Day really don’t. These are the girls who, though they’d never admit it, actually care about Valentine’s Day more than anyone else. If they really hated it and if they really didn’t care, they’d have no opinion at all. Now, the girls who hate Valentine’s Day are reading this and saying, “But I really actually don’t give a shit.” Honey, please. How can you not?

These are the girls who have the highest expectations for Valentine’s Day, and they assume their expectations will not be met months before February even rolls around. They’re disappointed before they’re given the opportunity to be pleased. Being anti-Valentine’s doesn’t make you independent or rebellious, either. In my fattest and most awkward stages throughout life, I’ve always managed to love Valentine’s Day. Having my mom and my grandma was plenty for me.

The best way to go about Valentine’s Day is understatedly. It’s one of the few holidays where I truly believe less is more. I always thought that receiving jewelry as a gift was incredibly awkward. When a boy gives me jewelry, I always feel like I owe him something in return. I feel guilty taking it. It’s fancy. I’m not. (Then again, that isn’t to say I won’t accept it. I mean, let’s face it, I’m poor and I’ll take whatever I can get.)

The problem with Valentine’s Day for both guys and girls is the ridiculous amount of pressure that people manage to shove onto a calendar date. For some reason, humans feel the need to prove how much they love each other on one day. I love Valentine’s Day–I always have–so I’m not saying I’m against it. I am, however, against the awkward pressure between two people who both can’t help wondering how much the other is satisfied. Satisfy me 365 days a year, and I’ll feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Buy me a low key dinner on February 14th, and I’ll still just as much feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Hey, at least you remembered what February 14th is.

I said it before, and I’ll say it again–girls are evil. Sure, I bet I’m selling myself as the coolest Valentine there is. I don’t need gifts! I don’t need lovin’! But of course, if I were to get nada, I’d be temperamental as feck. We say we hate Valentine’s Day, but that’s really because we love it. We say we love Valentine’s Day, and then make boys feel like they need to buy us Blue Ivy or North West or earrings or something. This is what Valentine’s Day does to us. The insanity is painstaking, but for some reason, it remains one of my favorite days of the year–in my fat, awkward stages, and in my well groomed ones.

Valentine’s is a day about love; not about boys and not about gifts. If you want to give someone the best Valentine’s Day there is, then remember that. Besides, save your whining and disappointment for New Years’. If you want to talk about depressing holidays, I’ll give ya that.

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