You're the Worst

Big day today.

I'm meeting with the publishing house

about the strategy for the new book.

Of course, marketing budg...

Why aren't you listening to me? I'm fascinating.

Oh, I'm on a dating app now.

I was hoping to find romance,

but every girl I match with just ends up wanting to be friends.

Like, on Friday, I'm helping a girl move a futon

into her apartment, but we've got to be done by 5:00

because she's got a date.

Well, the good news for you is that

these sites attract desperate, soon-to-be spinsters

with the self-esteem of a shelter pet.

And that knowledge can help you.

Have you tried negging?

Isn't that something lame dudes did, like, ten years ago?

Now it's making a comeback.

Like pubes and racism.

See, to neg, you employ criticism

couched as compliments to prey on low self-esteem.

Par exemple, "Oh, I love your top.

My mother had the same one before she lost four stone."

I can't be mean to someone I like.

Those are the best people to be mean to.

They never see it coming... ugly.

This is the survival of your genes.

You have to be aggressive.

Like they say, "Tits or GTFO." What does that stand for?

I'm not sure exactly.

I think maybe, "Tits... or get thy fanny out."

Mm, I could give it a shot.

Hey, maybe we could be app buddies.

I'm assuming you're dating now.

That would be a "no."

Actually, I'm guardedly excited about how things went

with Gretchen the other night. Jimmy,

I think it's over.

No. You heard her.

She said that everything between us was, and I quote, "okay."

Did you notice how she said it?

Weird and flat like someone

who's about to do something bad on Facebook Live.

Edgar, bit of advice.

Try not to dig beneath the surface of things.

With your pathetic analytic skills,

you really should take everything at face value.

You know, like, when I say, "Oh, Edgar, you idiot."

Hmm.

I've gotten it down so I only have to sleep

three and a half hours a night.

My metal work is more honest in the pre-dawn hours.

That's so funny!

Why is that funny?

I don't know.

Watch this.

Ow!

Oh, my God, I'm sorry!

Uh, let's go. Right.

'Sup, ninja? Why aren't you answering your phone?

Because I'm busy trying different clothes combinations

on this... alive mannequin thingy.

Shouldn't you be at work, too?

Nah. I was so cranked up

from messing with Jimmy's head,

I decided to blow off work and treat myself

to a liquor-store lunch instead.

So, I forgot to tell you.

I had sex with that dummy Ty.

What?! And then,

later that same day,

I boned his best friend. What?!

Should I try a walk, or...? Shut up!

Plus, he's married, so it can't be a thing.

That's right... Two guys in a row,

just like senior prom.

Ooh! Micheladas are much better when they're cold.

Hey, Lindsay.

Hi, Lindsay's troubled friend.

Good news.

We just signed

to dress Casey Affleck's lawyer for all future

court appearances, press conferences and depositions.

Looks like Mama's getting her boat. That's amazing!

Do you want to stay late with me tonight?

We can get dinner, force Carl

to make coffee and froyo runs. Make it fun.

Oh, farts. I promised my sister I'd babysit,

but I could cancel if you want me to.

No, that's okay. I can harass him by myself.

Pants... as a hat?

I like it.

It's fun, right? Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.

Ew. You have to hang out with that ugly-ass baby?

That thing looks like Billy Corgan fell asleep in a Jacuzzi.

I know, but thank God I had a legit excuse.

Priscilla's always here.

She eats, sleeps and shits work.

I don't want to shit work, Gretchen.

I once shit out one of those little wooden ice cream spoons,

and I couldn't sit down for a week.

Hey, want to do something fun?

We'll be in the man cave recording the podcast,

so if she cries like a little bitch, just babble at her.

You can say anything on account

of her soft-ass baby brain being all stupid and soft.

Check it. Hey, dumb baby.

Guess what Daddy did at work.

He used an oscillating bone distractor

to try and relieve an old lady's

craniofrontonasal dysplasia, and we lost her

on the table. Yes, we did.

We lost her.

Hey, guys.

This is my GBF, Walter.

We met at the bar in Gelson's.

He and his hubby also have a three-month-old.

And I'm definitely the Becca in my marriage.

I would say that Troy is the Vernon, but he has money

and a chin.

- You're late. - I'm "saw-wee."

I had to leave my job as a professional stylist

so I could babysit for "fwee."

Hey, being a mom is the most important job in the world.

Don't indoctrinate my baby with your libtard bullcrap.

Normally, I don't let my sitters bring their friends,

especially when one is

clearly intoxicated,

and the other one's probably in our country illegally.

I can say that because I voted for Obama.

- The first time. - Lock her up!

Lock her up! Lock her up!

Um, I have to run.

Yeah, Troy's on this new thing about eating dinner at the table

and just talking, like friggin' psychopaths?

You should do what I do.

I just make Vernon eat in the car.

Joke's on you.

I get to eat dinner with Joe Rogan every night.

Mmm.

What?! No! Jon Cryer just canceled.

Damn it! We can't just not

do the podcast.

We already blew the Red Napkin cash on Tallulah's eye medicine.

Gretch, you just had some crazy stuff go down.

You want to come get deep in the man cave?

Mm. No, Vernon, she doesn't... she doesn't want to.

Sure. I am owning what Jimmy did to me.

I am not living in silence anymore.

Plus, I am

drunk as shit on this clam booze,

so I'm down for whatever.

Come on, I'll get you set up. Listen, when I ask you

if you wish you could have all your dinner ingredients

delivered to your door, say yes.

I mean, I know that seems obvious,

but for some reason, Janeane Garofalo said no.

They're ready for you. Ah.

"Simon entered the room as he entered a woman: deliberately,

"with no appetite for the bromidic.

"For Simon, even the humdrum was veined thick

with decadence." "With decadence."

I'm Candace Sebring, head of marketing.

This is my rock star team.

And we all love the book!

We have been

looking for you for three months!

Oh. Our little disappearance artist.

We can't wait for you to see the mock-up of your cover.

Yes. Well, it is a tricky one, what with having to capture

the tenor and zeitgeist

of three wildly different periods in London's...

I'm, um... I'm-I'm just confused,

because that looks like a sex book

for horny airport ladies.

My book is, of course, literature.

Oh, Jimmy. No, this is just marketing.

We want your genius to have the best possible chance to succeed.

Which is why we're putting it in the erotica section.

If it's marketed as erotica and it's in the erotica section,

then it's erotica.

If what's inside is literature, it's literature.

Then why not market it as literature?

Because nobody buys literature.

They do buy erotica.

And they're definitely gonna buy this erotica.

You just said it's not erotica! Which is what makes it

so erotic.

Imagine what happens when an overworked mom

lights her scented candles, slips into her bubble bath,

opens your book and realizes

this isn't just sexy as hell...

It's actually a really good book.

She'll squirt so hard, that tub will overflow!

Besides, we've already paid

for the most prominent spots in all the major chains.

Right next to some of our other hot titles.

Bye!

Jimmy. Jimmy.

Jimmy, we're doing a reading tonight at The Straining Corset.