I’ll Take the Fucking Spoons: A This or That for Grown-Ass Women

I'll admit it; I feel like a dumbass. I've been writing for Another Fucking Pub for a while, and I've never done a This or Fucking That. Now that I'm editing for this fucktastic pub, it's my job to set a horrible example.

Here we go, Dee. Hopefully, you'll want to slap me afterwards.

1. Would you rather have a partner who chews like a fucking cement mixer or one who breathes like Darth Vader while sleeping?

I definitely hate loud chewing. I grew up with a father who would smack and talk when he chewed. Frankly, it made me want to throat punch him. Sleeping next to a partner who breathes like Darth Vader is preferable. I've learned to sleep with the soothing sounds of breathing echoes. It's almost like a fucking lullaby now. Rock a Bye Baby, Darth Vader style.

2. Would you rather give up coffee/tea/wine forever or never have a fucking mind-blowing orgasm again? (Choose wisely, motherfucker.)

What kind of fucking question is this, Deanna?

Lucky for me, I don't have to think too hard. I'd of course give up coffee, tea, and wine because I don't drink any of them. I'm allergic to caffeine. Yes, you read that right. One cup of coffee or tea, and I feel like I've been shot to the fucking moon.

I will admit that wine is amazing. I miss it. Too bad, I figured out that I'm sensitive to sulfites. I'd rather tweeze out my eyelashes than deal with a three-day hangover flu.

It's probably a good thing.

I don't have a filter normally, but when I'm intoxicated, I do stupid things like refer to young half-naked women in bars as pirate hookers. What the fuck is that about? In my defense, it wasn't about their lack of clothing; it was more about the smell of desperation wafting from their intoxicated laughter.

Beautiful women plus drunk decision-making equals some truly questionable boyfriend auditions.

As for orgasms, the thought of never having another one makes me want to cry.

You're a sadist, Dee.

3. Would you rather be royalty 1,000 years ago or a fucking average person today?

There is no way I'd want to be royalty 1,000 years ago. The thought of wearing a corset and a hoop skirt makes me want to walk off a cliff. At least now I can walk around braless in yoga pants and no one gives a fuck. Well, mostly.

Besides, I think I'm pretty average. At least the world treats me as such.

I don't see myself dancing at some royal event as I stifle my fucks; wishing the men asking me to dance would stop looking at my breasts busting from my dress. I'll stick to being average. At least a man won't ogle me or ask for "favors."

Though… not shaving my legs or hoo-ha does sound inviting. Women didn't shave back then, right?

4. Would you rather be the absolute fucking best at something that no one takes seriously or be fucking average at something well respected?

Dee, this question sucks labia. I'm a professor in 2025 — once upon a time, that meant respect. I don't know if I'm the fucking best, but I do know what it feels like when an eighteen-year-old shit doesn't take you seriously. I'd rather be an average doctor. At least the pay's better — and I'd get freebies with the white coat.

5. Would you rather have a fucking photographic memory or an IQ of 200?

First of all, is there such a thing as a 200 IQ?

I know a few geniuses, and honestly — no, thank you. I'll take the photographic memory. I mean, if I could remember every little detail I'd seen, I could be a badass detective. I'd wear a fedora and a purple pantsuit with pointed heels.

I could convince everyone I was a genuine psychic like the character, Sean Spencer, from the show Psych. Who doesn't love a pineapple?

6. Would you rather be beautiful and stupid or unattractive but a fucking genius?

Please refer to the previous fucking question. I'd rather be stupid and beautiful.

Let me explain. Yes, looks fade — but stupid people don't worry as much. They don't overthink. Ignorance really is bliss. I'd rather be stupid and happy than smart and tortured.

The smarter someone is, the more problems they have. Just look at some of the greatest artists in history. I'm betting Kurt Cobain was a fucking genius — so tortured he had to shoot himself to escape his own mind.

Vincent van Gogh? Brilliant painter. Cut off his ear during a mental health crisis.

Now tell me you'd rather be a fucking genius and ugly. That's like saying you want chronic diarrhea.

7. Would you rather have 10,000 spoons when all you need is a fucking knife, or always have a knife but never be able to use spoons?

Isn't it ironic? Don't you think?

Thanks, Dee. Now I have the earworm. Maybe I should just ramble about how everything in life is ironic. Like rain on your wedding day. Or a free ride when you've already paid. Okay, I'll answer the fucking question.

I'll take the 10,000 spoons because the spoons in this house are always dirty. Fuck the knife — I have cooking shears. If I need to cut something, I'll just use those. Ha! I outsmarted the question. Yay, me!

…Oh, wait. Now I have 10,000 fucking spoons. Where the hell am I supposed to put all of them?

8. Would you rather detect every lie you hear or get away with every fucking lie you tell?

I'd rather detect every lie for sure. I'm not saying I don't lie. I'm human. I just don't make a habit out of it. I'll confess like a criminal in therapy.

"That wasn't the dog, it was me. Oops!"

The guilt eats at me like acid on car paint. Besides, if I could detect every lie, I'd never have to worry about inviting another walking red flag into my life. That alone is worth it.

9. Would you rather be able to read minds or predict the fucking future?

This one is actually rude, Dee. I want both.

But fine — the future. I already pick up on things before they happen, anyway. If I had the actual ability? I'd know whether to steer clear of my husband Jimbo after he's eaten dinner.

Also, I have zero desire to know what goes through Jimbo's brain at any given moment. That is a swirling vortex of farts, car parts, and unhinged song lyrics. Some secrets are sacred because I value my fucking sanity.

10. Would you rather test the fucking waters or dive in the fucking deep end?

It depends on whether we're discussing literal water. If you ask me to dive into the deep end where I can't see the bottom, then fuck, no! I'll test those unidentifiable waters. I'd rather not sacrifice my ass cheeks to some creature living down there.

If we are talking about the metaphorical waters, well, I'll cannonball into that wave and figure it the fuck out on the way down.

And one bonus situational question:

You are going to be a contestant on a reality TV show such as Survivor.

To win, you have to outplay, outsmart, and outwit your fellow competitors.

What is your plan of attack going in? Will you have a strategy?

Tell us who you are, what your strategy to survive will be, and why you will be the winner or loser.

I live my life by the seat of my fucking pants. There is no way in hell I'd have a strategy. Knowing me, I'd make friends with everyone, cry, and then slip on some mud. I'd be out of the running in less than one day. Eh, whatever, I'll just pretend I know how to play guitar and sing made-up songs around the campfire till they kick my ass off the show.

Maybe I'll steal the s'mores supplies and bring them home for Jimbo. That way, it's not a total loss.

Somebody call NASA — I'm clearly a fucking genius. Oh shit. Forget I said that. I'm beautiful and dumb.

At AFP, we love voices that challenge, entertain, and shout the word 'Fuck!'. Doctor Funny does all three, so we're pairing their work with ours. Check this one out by Jimbo Jensen:

Funcle Jimbo's Playground A manchild's take on nursery rhymes