This Escalated Quickly

Liv confesses she built an over-the-top PowerPoint to roast a situationship—complete with slide titles like Red Flag Bingo, receipts screenshots, and a 'sentimental but mean' playlist—planning a theatrical breakup for closure. The episode unfolds as a live reading: a ridiculous opening statement, a funny confession about staging petty theatrics, escalating slides that reveal unexpected vulnerabili...

I thought RSVP meant 'bring whoever you want,' not 'bring the person who ruined your last two months.' In this solo episode Liv recounts the glorious chaos of accidentally bringing an ex to a mutual friend's wedding: the misread name on the invite, the frantic drink-and-hide strategy, the petty social sabotage that somehow involved the dessert table, and that moment when you realize decor and dest...

I made up an ex. Not a little white lie — a fully produced backstory, Instagram cameo, and a LinkedIn job title I definitely didn't fact-check. This episode is a chaotic monologue where I confess why I built a fictional ex to look cooler on dating apps, how my group chat became the production team, and the very specific way honesty unraveled when a stock photo and a jealous friend collided. Expect...

Ridiculous statement: I programmed a fake "out-of-office" reply to trick a situationship into revealing itself. In this episode Liv confesses the petty experiment, reads the glorious receipts, and serves a hot take: if you’re inventing social experiments to gauge someone’s interest, you might be single, but you are entertaining. This monologue recreates the setup (the exact message), the nervous w...

Liv turns her most catastrophic dating moments into a ridiculous multi-course tasting menu: an amuse-bouche of awkward openers, an appetizer of breadcrumbing, a main course of ‘did-he-actually-do-that’ disasters, and a dessert that’s suspiciously petty. This monologue blends savage hot takes, laugh-out-loud confessions, and that exact best-friend commentary you text at 2 a.m. Expect vivid storytel...

Liv turns catastrophic dating energy into a ridiculous solo performance: she’s been drafting preemptive breakup letters for the most common bad-date archetypes, and tonight she reads them aloud. Each letter is a ridiculous statement, a confessional flashback, and a savage hot take rolled into one — from the classic ghoster to the guy who forgets your name by dessert. This episode blends goofy thea...

Liv turns a disastrously funny date into a full-blown courtroom comedy: think opening statement, Exhibit A (the text thread that started it all), cross-examination of bad behavior, and a jury made up of her loudest internal monologues and best-friend instincts. This monologue riff walks listeners through the evidence, delivers savage but empathetic hot takes, and lands on a petty-yet-satisfying ve...

I told my loudest friends to plan a blind date for me using nothing but emojis. No bios, no filters, no context — just a chaotic string of tiny pictures and my hopeless trust that my group chat knows me better than I do. This monologue is equal parts ridiculous statement, messy confession, and savage hot take: I’ll narrate the emoji-driven matchmaking process, the delightfully absurd expectations...

Liv stages a one-woman "texting rehab" after realizing her love life is ruled by typing dots, last-seen timestamps, and ghosting etiquette. In this monologue she shares seven shameful rules she created to curb her messaging chaos—then admits to breaking almost all of them. Expect a ridiculous opening statement, a laugh-out-loud confession about bribing a friend for screenshot intel, chaotic hot ta...

Liv admits she secretly trained for the ‘Petty Olympics’ after a breakup and hands out medals to her most ridiculous post-relationship moves. This ten-minute monologue reads like the best friend you text at 2 a.m.: a ridiculous opening claim, a string of laugh-out-loud confessions (renaming contacts, curated revenge playlists, passive-aggressive décor swaps), and savage but self-aware hot takes ab...

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Liv recounts the afternoon she handed her dating app over to her mom 'for a second' and came back to a bio that read like a PTA newsletter, a headshot captioned ‘not like other girls (she bakes!)’ and an emergency family motto. This episode is a ridiculous statement, a messy confession, a savage hot take, and one chaotic story rolled into ten minutes of best-friend commentary. Liv performs the mos...

Liv performs her most bewildering situationship as an overdramatized telenovela: she introduces ludicrous characters (The Late Texter, The Ghost with Charm, The Mixed-Signal Maestro), reenacts the absurd scenes, and drops candid confessions between commercial-style interludes. This episode blends theatrical narration, millennial sarcasm, and painfully honest hot takes so listeners laugh, cringe, a...

Liv Carter becomes your chaotic museum curator in this ten-minute monologue where dating disasters are displayed like cursed relics. She walks listeners through absurd exhibits—a ghosted hoodie, a passive-aggressive playlist, the Situationship Plaque—using sharp sarcasm, oversharing energy, and real, relatable self-awareness. Each artifact sparks a ridiculous opening line, a funny confession about...

Liv takes her worst first dates and reads them like saccharine children's bedtime stories, turning awkward silence, terrible astrology talk, and accidental ex-mentions into 'Once upon a time' narratives complete with ridiculous morals. Part confession, part roast, this episode flips the script: the more disastrous the date, the sweeter the cadence, which only makes Liv's sarcastic commentary land...

When 'we'll see where this goes' becomes its own genre of emotional whiplash, Liv does what any chaotic, dramatic best friend would do: she drafts a Terms & Conditions for her situationship. Equal parts ridiculous statement, painfully honest confession, and savage hot take, this episode reads clauses like 'No midnight breadcrumbing' and 'Refund policy for emotional labor' out loud, then explains t...

Liv turns a facepalm-level dating disaster into a full-blown soap opera about plants, passive-aggression, and modern ghosting etiquette. She opens with a ridiculous statement — she ghosted a date, then ended up owning the date's plant — and walks listeners through the chaotic chain: the awkward handoff, the group-chat therapy session she created to justify keeping a living thing that belonged to S...

Liv plays digital archaeologist in this monologue: she scrolls through old group chat screenshots, reconstructs how a tiny dumb message cascaded into a full-blown friendship meltdown, and serves it up with millennial sarcasm and best-friend energy. Expect a ridiculous opening claim, a funny confession about her screenshot hoarding, a hot take on why we never leave toxic chats, and a chaotic origin...

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Ever sent a message you immediately wanted to bury? In this monologue episode Liv adopts full best-friend energy to perform dramatic readings of the absolute worst texts—both listener submissions and a few of her own glorious disasters. Think desperate late-night confessions, accidental ‘reply all’ disasters, drunk declarations that should never have seen daylight, and the kind of breadcrumbing te...

I thought creating a fake dating persona was a harmless dodge tactic to avoid bumping into my ex. Two swipes, one white lie, and zero boundaries later, I was running a full-time operation of pretend profiles, dramatic exits, and customer-service-level ghosting. In this monologue episode I spill every messy detail: the ridiculous rules I invented to keep my alibis straight, the cringe DM I had to s...

Liv turns her dating chaos into customer service hell in this ten-minute solo episode. Framed as a fake 'Dating Support' hotline, she catalogs the most ridiculous problems dating throws at you—from expired attention warranties and ghosting without notice to the mysterious charge of 'mixed signals.' Equal parts ridiculous statement, cringe confession, and gallows-humor hot take, this episode reads...

Liv turns her most catastrophic first-dates into pitch-perfect (and pitch-terrible) startup proposals in a ten-minute monologue that feels like your group chat on espresso. She kicks off with a ridiculous statement—'If heartbreak were a product, here's how we'd market it'—then confesses the cringe details behind each disaster and sells them as absurd solutions: an app that flags silent chewers, a...

Liv admits she started staging tiny, ridiculous emergencies to find out who actually cared — from a fake lost kitten meltdown to a sob session about a dead houseplant — and the results are equal parts embarrassing and revealing. In this chaotic, laugh-out-loud monologue Liv narrates three escalating tests, the losers who texted an emoji, the one person who showed up with ladder and snacks, and the...

Liv lets her phone play matchmaker — or arsonist — for a week by replying to every dating app message, DM, and text using only her phone's predictive text. The result is a ten-day saga of accidental confessions, fake-cutesy nicknames, an unintended marriage proposal, and one very confused barista. In this monologue, Liv narrates the week as if reading someone else’s cringe diary: a ridiculous open...