June 13, 2014
When you’re a betch, approximately 92% of your day is spent talking shit. The other 8% is spent sleeping, duh. But what happens when the person you need to talk shit about is in the general vicinity, or like, right in front of your face? What are you supposed to do—not talk shit about them?
Psh, no. You just need to put your thinking-betch caps on, aka use code names.
When you use a code name instead of someone’s actual name, you can literally talk about someone behind their back, only it’s in front of their face. Also it adds a layer of protection in case someone decides to call you on your shit. “Omg nooo Horse Face is totally not you, we were talking about Sarah Jessica Parker! Fucking duh!” Plausible deniability, a betch’s best ally.
Just like there are the 5 C’s to buying diamonds (a betch’s other best friend), there are also the hallowed commandments of a good code name. And they go as follows:
Oh, so your crush came in wearing a pink shirt one day and you decided to call him “Pinky”? On the bright side it looks like I don’t need that Ambien scrip because that codename is boring enough to put me to sleep. What’s going to happen when he doesn’t wear a pink shirt? Then the foundation of your codename crumbles before you like a bad diner cookie. Tbh, you sound like a nice girl. You can do way better than that! Inspiration is all around you—do they have a physical feature that’s weird enough to point them out of a lineup? Use that, but don’t just call someone “Unibrow,” really run with it. Maybe call them Caterpillar because their eyebrow looks like a caterpillar, I don't know, I'm not fucking Eric Carle. Let your imagination go wild. Take it all the way.
If you’re the only person that thinks your Econ professor looks like Hugh Grant, no one’s going to know who the fuck you’re talking about when you go on about how much you wish “Hugh Grant” would start an affair with you. A code name’s useless if you’re the only one who gets it, which leads into the next point…
A code name’s only as good as its reach. Anecdote time: At camp one year, there was this counselor who ALWAYS wore green. Literally, every single day at least one of his clothing items was green. So my besties and I did what anyone would do—we started calling him “Green Lantern.” Pretty soon everyone on camp was calling him Green Lantern (without his knowledge as far as I’m aware). This level of ubiquity is what you’re aiming at. If you’re a true betch everyone will copy your code names. I’m sorry that everyone’s so obsessed with me, but I can’t help it that I’m popular.
As in, none should be required. You might be thinking this contradicts #1, but it really doesn’t. If it takes a five minute story just to communicate why you call Waldo, Waldo, you’ve defeated the purpose of your own code name. A typical code name convo should go like this:
"Wait, why do you guys call Nick 'Waldo?'"
"...Cause he looks like Waldo. Look at him."
Betches do suck at keeping secrets but it would be pretty awks if your code names found out and called you on it, so try to keep them on the DL. Some people would call code names bullying but I say there’s no harm done as long as it doesn’t leave your friend circle. Your friend group is sort of like Vegas in that way. I also just realized the above acronym spells “care,” which is ironic considering that’s the last thing you’ll ever do when talking shit. So remember: when it comes to code names, "CARE," but like, don't actually care.