Mirror, Mirror On The Wall, Who Is The REAL Victim After All?

Are you happy with who you are? Confident? Intelligent?

If you said yes, you probably intimidate some people. People often fear what they can, and will never be.

I would like to dedicate this blog post to “nice” people, particularly men.

I dislike many “nice” guys because one too many have fucked me over, or used me. “Nice” guys are not super nice; they are conniving users. I speak of this from my PERSONAL experiences; I AM NOT SAYING YOU CAN’T BE NICE AND LEGIT BE NICE. I am trying to convey my personal experiences with manipulators.

Nice guys often play the pity me, pity me, victim card to make people feel sorry for them, because when they get the fake pat on the back and feel validated. They never see that the pat on the back is temporary and their unhappiness that chills beneath their skin shall remain. Pretending to be a fake, nice person does not get you love; it gives you a false sense of reality. You know what gets you REAL love? Being yourself and being unapologetic about it. When you can be honest with those around you and they still love you; it is love. When someone can put up with all of your flaws, point them out but still hug you, that is love.When someone texts you just to find out how everything is and supports you- it is love. Users sometimes do this until they get what they want, then they move on, because all they were doing was giving you the same temporary approval they seek themselves.

I don’t play the victim card, because I am way too old for that shit. I figured out along time ago that playing the role of the helpless, dumb victim attracts people who are just like that! They have no interest in saving you.

I am often painted as the villain. I can be stand offish, unfriendly and people mistake that as snobbery. I am stand offish until I feel a sense of safety. I don’t think I am better than anyone, and I am far from judgmental. I just have to observe. I hate most people, and I am not very trusting.  People do not go awwwwwwwww poor Jaclyn when they see me.  I do not expect them to.

Now there are people particularly males who love to make everyone around them feel sorry for them, and if I happen to go to toe with them, I am vilified. I don’t think this is fair.

So, mirror, mirror on the wall who is the true victim after all?

Saying stuff like “you’ll never go out with me, or girls like you don’t like me, or nobody likes me, or I am not good enough for you, and so forth” are often signs of conniving behavior. The guy is trying to make you feel sorry for him so you have sex with him. You do not need to be placed on a pedestal by anyone, because if you love yourself, you are already on one.




Dear Alex Part Two.

Dear Alex,

It has been thirteen years since we spoke. We were entering our sophomore years of high school; I had blossomed into this awkward, confused teenager with huge boobs, and you were 140lbs even though your diet consisted of milkshakes, burgers, and weed. You had a notebook that got passed around, and it discussed all of the “hot” girls at your school, you informed me about the term “Boca bitches”, and how you worked on cars during the summer to earn extra cash. Your Myspace default photo was of you in a Mercedes wearing Gucci shades. We went to the beach that summer, you told me about your dumb blonde friend who wished she had bigger boobs. We blasted 50 Cent & Lil Kim’s Magic Stick in order to piss my mother off. It was a great time, and it was the last time we would ever see one another on Earth.

In 2015, I googled you to see what happened to you, and my heart sank. I felt like someone was playing a horrible practical joke on me, because your obituary came up. Alex, you and your family played such a vital role in my childhood. I will never ever forget you. I cherish the connection we had. We both had over the top vivid imaginations, expensive taste and shitty summer birthdays. You introduced me to Goosebumps, Alex Mack, and teased me because I had training wheels on my bicycle. We played house together, our parents were certain we would get married. We drove around in my purple Barbie convertible during the summer block party on Eden lane, ran through sprinklers, and wore big orange floaties on our arms because we couldn’t swim. You my first best friend.

Hey Alex, I love you, I always have. I wish I could have saved you. If you left earth because of drugs I wish I could have been the voice of reason and pushed you into the right direction. If you left due to suicide, I would have saved you from yourself.

In the end until we meet again my friend, I want to say thanks for the memories. Thank-you for doing homework with me, catching lightening bugs in the summer time, telling me you were a vampire, coming to my dance recitals, facing puberty with me, and pissing me off in the lunch room. You were fantastic, my love.






She Has Everything & You Hate Her For It.

She has everything. She’s pretty, she’s articulate, she drives a fancy convertible, she’s had every career imaginable, and she managed to fuck a dick-less boyfriend for over five decades. She’s fantastic and she is made of plastic.

She’s a wholesome sex icon. She is one gigantic joke.

I do a whole Barbie bit in my stand up act. It begins with “my parents always bought me career Barbies..they never seemed to get me the one I really wanted..serial killer Barbie. She was too expensive the bodies were sold separately..”

(Photo Credit: Mariel Clayton)


I truly believe that Barbie was created by a devote Christian because she’s had the same boyfriend for 50 years, and her knees don’t bend.

I think Mattel created a society that mocks society and it all began with monogamy.  I don’t believe Barbie’s “unrealistic” figure should be frowned upon. I think the idea that she’s smokin hot, insanely driven, seems to have it all and only had one boyfriend along the ride is the problem. We are a society obsessed with monogamy and I think this an enormous issue. I don’t care about getting married, or being with the same guy for five decades. It just doesn’t seem fun or realistic.

Barbie and her plastic friends are a representation of what Capitalism and religion have imbedded into our minds. Barbie doesn’t have just any car..she has a pink convertible car, so when she is driving everyone will stare, and probably snapchat it at a stop light. She has a huge mansion in Malibu, a gigantic swimming pool, a Kim Kardashian lifestyle and she never had to get fucked on camera to get it.

I will be performing at Club Privacy at 9pm on October 20th & The Clown House on October 22nd at 8pm in Downtown LA!

I had a great performance at the Ice House in Pasadena this past Sunday… I am trying to get the video so I can post! If not, I will try and film Thursday, or Saturday!


xoxoxoxoxox- Dont forget to follow me on instagram! @JaclynPassaro