Hook A Bitch Up

(a.k.a. Pimp Out Your Friends)

Because your questionable friend deserves love… or at least stage time.

Did you watch the show and think, “OMG, my most questionable friend would be perfect for this circus”?

Congrats — you might be the reason I find true love… or at least the reason I end up with a new story for stage (and hopefully a free dinner, since I’m obviously doing this for the sake of my art).

Send. Him. In.

Offer me your finest:

A potential soulmate 🥰

A golden retriever man who deserves better 🐕

A chaos gremlin who could actually keep up 😈

Or just some dude who desperately needs to be witnessed 👀

He could be my happily-ever-after.

He could be a cautionary tale.

Either way, we’ll find out together.

The name you’ll regret giving us: *

The inbox you’ll pretend not to check: *

Want our nonsense delivered directly to your inbox when we eventually organize ourselves? *

Consent.... Because Consent Is Sexy.

I consent to having my submission used during the show, on social media, and/or in future “It’s Not Me, It’s You” content, recordings, and merchandise.

By submitting this form, I confirm that I am doing so of my own free will (and not under duress, thirst, or a post-breakup spiral). I grant full permission for my submission—edited, paraphrased, dramatized, or re-enacted—to be used publicly, worldwide, in perpetuity, and I understand this consent is irrevocable (aka I can’t change my mind later).

I affirm that I own the rights to everything I’m submitting, that it does not infringe on any third-party rights, and that I will not hold “It’s Not Me, It’s You” or its affiliates liable for any claims related to its use. Basically: don’t send us something you stole unless you’re cool with the original owner seeing it on a T-shirt.

I waive any right to compensation, royalties, or legal action (no matter how wildly successful this becomes). I also agree not to sue, because we are poor, and any profits will likely be used for alcohol (for research and reward purposes), therapy we won’t attend but fully support, and emotional support snacks.

This agreement is governed by the laws of the State of Nevada, because that’s where we live, love, and roast dating culture. *

Yes, I waive my right to sue, cry, or claim artistic credit.

Who is this man? *

Why are you submitting him? *

What’s your real intent here? *

Does he know you’re doing this? *

Why would we make a good (or ridiculous) match? *

How do I contact this mystery man? *

Upload his photo(s): Thirst trap, selfie, or any visual evidence of the madness.

Bonus points if he’s:
Holding a fish

Wearing an open shirt in a mirror

Standing proudly in front of a Dodge Charger

Hook A Bitch Up

(a.k.a. Pimp Out Your Friends)

It's Not Me, It's You (Las Vegas)