How to Survive Life When You Hate the Sound of People Chewing


Picture this. You walk into a quiet conference room at your office for a lunchtime meeting and several more people shuffle in and fill the seats around you. The lunch cart rolls in and everyone grabs some food – a sandwich, salad, bag of chips, soda, maybe even a pickle or two- and then people return to their seats and start to eat as the meeting begins. Sounds normal, right? Well if you’re like me, it sounds like a goddamn nightmare, so hold on tight because this is gonna SUCK.

The sound of people chewing is a cruel and unusual form of torture that slowly loosens my screws and makes me want to Hulk Smash one crunch, smack, slurp at a time. Apparently, this is a diagnosable condition called Mesophonia, or a “hatred of sound.” Cool, so it’s not just me and also, I might be a creative genius? Noice.

Unfortunately, people have to eat and unless you plan on kickin’ it hermit style or surrounding yourself with people who only eat soft cheese and cake, you’ve gotta learn to deal with it. Because running away every time the person next to you opens a bag of chips or giving someone the death stare until they feel so awkward they get up and leave, while slightly gratifying, is not a good look. Trust me.

Here are some ways to make it through an arrival from the dreaded Chew Chew Train. You can do it, I believe in you.

1. Headphones are your friend– If you’re sitting on a bus or train or somewhere where it’s appropriate to pop your headphones on, DO IT. If you can’t hear the chewing it can’t make you twitch. However, If you’re around people who expect you to participate in a conversation, do not put your headphones on. That is rude.

2. Pray x repeat– Most of the time, you just have to take a deep breath and deal with it. Instead of focusing on the evil sounds permeating the room, pray for world peace, for the Spice Girls to announce a reunion tour, or for Donald Trump to slip on some Cheeto dust and fall off the side of a cruise ship, landing in a school of jellyfish who drag him to the bottom of the sea and then, in an unlikely turn of events, invite his toupee to enroll in their jellyfish school. Keep repeating said prayer until the eating has ended. It will always end.

3. Think of something nice- Find your happy place. Mine’s probably making my baby niece laugh, when my dog rolls on his back and his face looks like Fire Marshall Bill or hanging out at Rocky Pond in Hollis, NH. Figure out what yours is and think about that. Pretend you’re there, relax, really picture it and then that hate fire burning in your heart will start to subside.

4.  Eat something too!- An easy way to drown out the sound of someone chewing like a cow is to chew something, too. Fight fire with fire, chip with chip, gum with gum. Try and be casual about it though. Don’t hate crunch to make a point, that doesn’t solve anything.

5. Leave– Simple as that. If you don’t have to be where you are, get up and go somewhere else. You’re welcome.

6.  Stop being a little bitch– I know that sounds harsh, but it’s true. The people chewing with their mouths open or crunching so loud that the earth is shaking may have been raised by wolves, but they are not the problem, you are the problem. It is not normal to freak out at people because they are doing something required to continue living. Humans literally have to eat or we die. So take a deep breath, and get the fuck over it. I know it sucks, it’s the WORST, but you can’t control everyone. That’s not how the world works which is v unfortunate.

These tricks have worked for me. I’m 27, haven’t murdered anyone, people like me at work and I still have most of my friends, so maybe, just maybe they can work for you too.

Phew, that felt good.

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Wow Yoga Sucks


I’ve frequented many a yoga class off and on for the last ten years or so. It’s a pretty good work out, decent way to relax and you’re almost guaranteed to walk out with some amusing stories to share with anyone who’ll listen.

Here’s a step-by-step analysis of what happens in a yoga class.

When you first walk into the yoga studio you’re usually greeted by a blast of incense followed by a “Oh hello there!” from the questionably upbeat instructor who is most likely doing a head stand alone in the studio. Her name is probably something like, “Jade” or “Whisper” and she’ll jog over to greet you at a tiny little wooden desk topped with an appointment book and massive potted plant and ask you to sign in. There are dude instructors too and they’re worse. After this, you’ll move into the waiting room where you’ll place your belongings into a little cubby and remove your shoes (I’ll get to the no shoes in a moment) then you’ll probably get a cup of water and stare at the bowl of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups on the counter in front of you and ponder eating some, but refrain because you are here to exercise after all.

Next, you’ll walk into the studio and decide on a spot to lay down your mat and situate yourself for the duration of the class. This is a very important decision that should be carefully executed as to avoid frustration and embarrassment. First you want to avoid being too close to the one person in class who is way better than everyone else, as is demonstrated by their mastery of the most difficult poses before class has even begun. Don’t be intimidated. Just stay away. Avoid the middle-aged bros that are clearly there to try and hit on girls and stare at their butts in those form fitting yoga pants. Don’t put your mat down right in front of the instructor if you don’t want to constantly be touched and made an example of and whatever you do stay in front of any grandmas, you don’t want that ass bending over in your face. Go for a spot somewhere in the second row, off to the side. Trust me.

You’ll probably see a tall stand in the back corner of the room holding weird blocks, straps, mats and other foreign objects. Just to be safe, grab one of each, if you don’t use them, you can always build a fort with them later or throw them at the way-too-good-to-be-in-this-class lady to stop her super loud guttural breathing techniques. Gross. Also, bring your own mat. It’s nasty enough that no one is wearing shoes, but do you really want to walk, touch, roll around and lay down on a mat that a hundred other people have sweat all over? I repeat, gross.

During the class, there will be moments when you’re holding a pose and the teacher will offer you a proposition: “you can either stay here or make the pose more challenging by extending further…” When this moment happens, prepare yourself and look around, because someone, maybe even multiple people if you’re really lucky, will turn into a human twister game, eat shit and quickly revert to child’s pose. They’ll be quick, but it will live in your memory forever.

Be sure to keep your ears open for the mid class fart the lady in the back lets out, but try to avoid laughing out loud. It’s like an unwritten rule of yoga that if someone rips ass you just have to power through and remember to laugh about it later.

The teacher will walk around and tell you to hold poses for like 100 full breaths in and out through the nose and out the mouth and tell you to “listen to your body.” Like you’re body isn’t saying “FUCKIN’ OUCH!” Just keep breathing. You’ve got this. Then she’ll put you in some crazy position with your feet up in the air balancing on your pinky finger or something and then tell you that “this position is super good for your thyroid and really opens up your chi.” Oh really? Is it??? Then you’ll get to end the class with a chant or two “OOMMMMMMMM” It might seem strange, but just do it. You’ll feel zen AF. Promise. Finally, you get to lie down, close your eyes and listen to a sweet lullaby from heaven for like 15 whole minutes. Nap time involved in an exercise class?! SIGN ME UP.

There are plenty of entertaining moments involved in a yoga class and probably many more yet to be discovered, but all in all, yoga rocks. So go forth and tree pose my little warrior 1’s. You’ll make me a very happy baby indeed.


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5 Ways to Know if You Chose The Right Pizza


Life can be scary sometimes, full of countless choices and forks in the road. Especially when it comes to pizza. There are so many toppings, sauces and crust styles available. How can you be confident that you’ve made the right choice? What if you make the wrong one? Well, have no fear. Here are some surefire ways to be totally sure.

  1. You like the pizza– Are you eating pizza? (YAS) Does it taste good AF? (YAS) Are you not allergic to any of the ingredients? (YAS) Are you definitely going to eat another piece even though you’re already kind of full? (YAS!!) Congratulations, you chose the right pizza.
  2. You eat some the next day– While eating an entire pizza in one sitting deserves praise and respect, sometimes you just can’t finish the damn thing. And that’s okay! It just means you’ll have LEFTOVERS. You’ll wake up late the next morning and walk over to the fridge expecting to see the usual bag of shriveled arugula, Brita filter, a mostly-empty bottle of soy sauce and some flat diet coke. Then you’ll open the door and be greeted by the heavenly presence of enough pizza to put off going to the grocery store for another few hours. Grocery stores are the worst!
  3. You’ve had it before– If at first you like your pizza, order it again (and again and again and again.)
  4. Someone you like and trust recommended it– A real friend will never lead you astray in the pizza ordering department. If they do, run away as fast as you can and never talk to them again.
  5. It’s pizza– Unless you pull a Mary Kate and Ashley and put literally everything in your parents’ fridge that you took without asking on top of a perfectly good cheese pizza during a bullshit sleepover with your creepy ass friends, you’re probably going to love your pizza. Because it’s fucking pizza.

And that’s really all there is to it. Don’t be intimidated by all the options out there. Just believe in yourself and order the dang pizza, you freak! ❤



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This one’s for you, Poot.

There’s a little Poot Lovato in all of us.





And last, but certainly not least…


You rule, Poot. I hope Demi lets you out of the basement more often.

Thanks, Internet.

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