October, 2010

NC-17 / one liners- hey it's easy / ponderings of a mad woman — 1 Comment
22
Oct 10

RVS

here is how to tell if the guy you’re “dating” is too young for you: when pillow talk after sex is really motherly advice.

handy binge drinking hangover planning formula for the middle-aged: 1 hour for every year of your life multiplied by the amount of drinks you plan to have = the amount of recovery time you will need to allot afterward.

like the prince looking for the girl who fits the shoe, i will know i have met my beloved when he finds my magic bean.

an asshat by any other name is…my ex-husband.

i have mercy fucked the ugly, the poor, the young, the old, the hairy, the sweaty, the ill-tempered, ill-mannered, ill-equipped, the poorly skilled, the fat, the skinny, the weak, & the wretched. i am the gd mother theresa of sex.

looks like the boys of summer have gone; but that’s okay – because my vagina grows a thick coat & goes into hibernation over the winter.

since we got the kitten, i have no desire to go out & troll for men anymore. now i stay home & do what i do best – stroke my pussy.

we won’t be a truly civilized society until every restroom has butt wipes.

anyone know the etiquette governing sheet changing between one night stands? i just don’t have that much time for laundry.

i just want one dependable penis. is that too much to ask?

it is nearly impossible to find truth in dating and i am just tired of the inevitable disappointment – so i am going to run my sex life like an employment agency from now on: interested applicants will be pre-screened via an application process in which they must submit current photos, a resume outlining all skills & qualities applicable to the job,  complete employment history, a P & L statement, personal references and at least 3 glowing letters of recommendation from previous employers. after being granted an interview, candidates that make it to the second round must pass a simulated field test, blood test, & thorough physical examination. there will be temporary positions available with the possibility of long term employment if job performance is evaluated to be satisfactory. there is no vacation or sick time but full benefits will be available after successfully completing a designated waiting period. employment is strictly at will – my will. it will not be an EEO workplace either. only serious applicants need apply. 

i was talking to my cousin & lamenting the release of the last penis in my stable back into the wild. i was telling him how hard it was find a steady lay. he summed up the single woman’s situation perfectly, “you can get laid any time you time want, just not by whom you want.”

i am no fashionista, but aren’t footless tights the same as leggings? now crotchless, i understand.

does anyone remember when the manicurist actually gave a shit about NOT getting polish on your skin? this is what happens when you outsource american goods & services to overseas workers.

i frequently wake up in the night all tingly and unable to get back to sleep -i think i am suffering from RVS – Restless Vagina Syndrome.

some women do divorce planning before they file. i affair-planned.

want a free lunch? throw a card into my bowl.

i would be more apt to play barbies with my girls if they made some dolls i could relate to like Divorced Barbie and her slutty twin sister, Sowing Her Oats Barbie or their fun friend, Part-time Alcoholic Barbie.

i am old fashioned girl – i expect a man to pay for my dinner before he gets to have me for dessert.

a successful one night stand is just that- ONE night. don’t ruin it by actually trying to get to know each other.

my body is like a temple and those who do not worship it properly will be excommunicated.

single woman at confession: bless me mother for i have sinned. i had impure thoughts & slept around. head mistress: do two 20 year olds, and blow one old man.

these are my rules for “dating” those under 30: come over and fuck me when i call, every time i call, never ever stand me up, don’t ask for snacks, don’t whine about your mommy, don’t ask for career advice or to take a shower, and, for god sakes, leave immediately after we are done – i have shit to do in the morning.

so i’m settling into the new job nicely – my top drawer is filled with snacks, i have memorized the secret code to get into the employee “lounge,”  i have eradicated any evidence of the existence of the person before me (most likely tossing important papers i will need when i actually know what i am doing), & by day 6, i had my pants unbuttoned after lunch.

after the following conversation occurred in my bedroom:

“i’m going home to sleep.”

“well, of course you are.”

“well, are you at least gonna walk me out?”

“do i have to?”

i  decided to look into obtaining some signage so that the exits are clearly marked.

some people think it’s time i cleaned up my act – so i decided to take a 30 day pledge of sobriety & chastity. HAHAHAHAHAHA

i pray for world peace and freedom from asshats for all.

i have come to the conclusion that i am not a fan of showers of any kind unless it’s hand held.

no longer working with men is a welcome relief from all the oogling, flirting, & sexual tension -  i was starting to worry i was going to get fired for sexual harassment.

some people find success with yoga or meditation, but i didn’t feel truly at peace until i got in touch with my Inner Bitch.

there is nothing like a warm pussy in your lap -  once you go cat, you never go back.

how can booze & sex feel soooo good at the time, but soooo bad the next day?

you know you’re getting old when you have to slide that birth year bar alllllllllllll the way down to select the year. sigh.

this is terribly shallow, but it always surprises me when ugly people have affairs.

wrap dresses need to have cautionary labels such as: WARNING: A sudden gust of wind may blow dress completely open while you are walking past 27 car mechanics. Wear underwear at all times when using this product.

bumper sticker seen on horse drawn carriage: prince charming was a mama’s boy.

when a divorced woman is with her married friends, they seem to hold their husbands arms slightly tighter. married ladies, not to worry: we know your husbands, we have listened to you bitch about them, and most importantly, we are not interested in trading one jackass for another. that prize is all yours honey.

you can never go wrong just being yourself…unless you’re a total asshole.

while reflecting upon my failed marriage, i realized there were so many other men i could have chosen to disappoint me.

getting back into bed after the girls’ bus leaves on my day off isn’t so much about needing the sleep, so much as it is just knowing i can.

three things i have just accepted i am not going to do no matter how much i continually resolve to do them:

1. floss

2. make my bed

3. balance my checkbook

i pulled a “going out” bag i rarely use out of the closet the other night and found a wad of singles in it. at first i was elated, but then i became increasingly alarmed trying to trace its origins…

i would rather sleep with a stranger than have phone sex with him.

i was recently at a hotel i used to frequent for a completely legitimate reason and it didn’t feel right…

note sent from rapunzel’s tower: i’m bored. send shoes.

making new friends at work: over it.

i’m an optimist – i always see the vodka bottle as 1/2 full.

removing a new barbie from the package is like negotiating a hostage release.

it’s not the men i miss or even the sex – it’s the texts.

it’s a good thing i don’t have a bookie because i have borrowed wine bottles all over town with no intentions of paying ‘em back.

you know it’s finally over when you de-friend him on facebook.

i get on these food jags where i obsessively eat one thing until i get sick of it. usually, the only way to cure it is to just finally gorge myself on the thing in one sitting which makes me become disgusted with it forever after The Feed. it works in other areas of my life too -  i had tons of meaningless sex with strangers for a few months and i am completely done with that now. the vodka, however, is the anomaly to this theory.

here is the thing about reunions in middle age: as expected, the women, for the most part, look gorgeous and even better than they did in high school; or at the very least, are well preserved. what is shattering, is to see the beautiful boys you lusted after have all turned into short, fat, bald gnomes. this is particularly crushing when you are freshly divorced, feeling fabulous, and using The Reunion as a Dating Opportunity.

text exchange with my gf loreen:

me: s’up beyatch?

loreen: same shit. what are you up to?

me: ditt-O. cept now i do it with a cat

loreen: i hope you weren’t being literal about doing it with the cat.

me: nah. i’m done with males of all species.

loreen: now that was funny.

me: thank you, good night.

oh  my god. i just answered the door with a cat in my arms. it’s official, i am a Crazy Cat Lady.

i really don’t hate men – i’m just trying to head ‘em off at the pass.

the ex wants me to give him a ghet (a jewish divorce). oh, he can have his ghet, when i get the rest of what i’m supposed to get.

i just adore the kitten, but i am not going to be one of those people who talks endlessly about her pet; but i just have to tell you about the cutest thing he did the other day…

i remember when i first found out that all of those gorgeous male models with the six-pack abs & sculpted bodies were gay. that certainly set the tone for disappointment in men early in life.

one of my random hookups took the last condom home with him. i thought this was bad form. is he not familiar with the concept of a hostess gift?

i love that facebook personally tailors the ad sidebar for me: a weight loss ad, followed by a divorce support group ad, followed by a romance a millionaire ad. what, no vodka or AA ads?

my dating life is in recession headed toward a full depression.

Truth In Dating icebreaker: razor, laser, or wax?

terry cloth sweats are my preferred loungewear – they are highly absorbent and quickly mop up the spilled vodka – and then you can wring ‘em out into your glass. (i do so hate waste.)

i used to think asexual people were missing something, but now i think they actually have it all figured out.

whenever i bring a man back to my place, i like to slip into something a little more vodka.

oh bare minerals, you had me at sleep.

so i realized i was out of a few things for making school lunch and went food shopping in my friend’s refrigerator. the price was right but she wouldn’t honor my coupons.

new bumper sticker: wanna consumate?

when a friend of mine was trying to convince me to engage is some inappropriate texting, i told him i wasn’t sure about it because “i’m so shy…an absolute shrinking violet.” he responded, “more like a venus flytrap.”

when women say, “why are the good ones always taken?” i wonder what exactly is their definition of “good.”

is being a douchebag a choice or are you just born with it?

and in that vein, i am fairly certain anyone driving a yellow mode of transport, other than a school bus driver, is one.

i have no idea what the meaning of life is, but i do know vodka is clear for a reason.

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one liners- hey it's easy / rugrats are hi-lar-i-ous — 1 Comment
20
Oct 10

the splash zone: episode 6

7 y/o to me while i was calling her friend for a playdate, “you will probably have to leave a message on her voice messaging system.” i giggled, which prompted 10 y/o to say to her,  “you are going straight to the blog.” 7 y/o to me,  “great, now you’re writing it down.”

10 y/o: “there are so many old people here.” me: “we are all going to be old one day.” 10 y/o: “yes, but you be will old much sooner than me.”

me: “a kitten will be a lot to handle.” 10 y/o: “yes, but i want one from the kitty litter.”

10 y/o after her sister sneezed: “i just got a little spritz in the splash zone.”

so, mommy is a sucker and we got a new kitten and the maniacal phototaking ensued. i said, “it’s like the paprazzi in here.” 7 y/o said, “no it’s the catarazzi.”

7 y/o was flailing her arms by my coffee and i said, “can you please watch this?” meaning be careful not to spill it. i went into the other room and after a minute she asked me if she could go pet the cat and i said, “of course, you don’t need permission.” and she said, “well, you told me to watch this.”

while catsitting, my mom’s cat, dexter, the girls were discussing getting our own kitten. 7 y/o said to 10 y/o, “shhh. dexter can hear you.” and 10 y/o replied, “i’m not cheating on him.”

me to 10 y/o, “well, i told you that already. you don’t listen to me.” “no, i don’t, do i?”

10 y/o: “cats are just like elderly people: they sleep, eat & poop.”

me: “you guys, this movie is so horrible.” 7 y/o: “that’s the point.”

the girls  & i got home late one night & i was too tired to make lunch before bed so i made it the next morning. after putting it in her backpack before leaving for school, 10 y/o looked at me & said, “well, the lunches got made this morning, but this isn’t going to become a habit is it?”

10 y/o on phone with her friend, “i’d like to have a playdate, but my mother has a homework policy.”

10 y/o noticed my frown when she took a bottled water which i like to reserve for school lunches and said to me, “you can buy more, mommy. i’ll give you the five dollars.”

me to 10 y/o referring to an online game: “i really do not find that game to be appropriate.” “why? it’s just a dress up game.” “look at how she is drawn: her boobs are huge.” 10 y/o: “they’re not huge, they’re ENORMOUS.”

10 y/o pondering her halloween costume, “i could go as a nerd.” me, “ok.” 10 y/o, “but that may be offensive to the kids that really are nerds.”

so my new job is technically in the mall, but i have a desk job, however, upon hearing of the location, 7 y/o exclaimed, “you get to work in  the mall? you are SO LUCKY!”

7 y/o, “mommy, if you keep wearing black to work , they are going to think you’re goth.”

while watching a show with 10 y/o, she asked, “so what’s this show about?” me, “just about their life together.” 10 y/o, “so it has no context whatsoever?”

girls and i were discussing how they would feel about me dating which prompted 10 y/o asked me if i was dating anyone. i told her i wasn’t and pointed out that i had told her that already. she replied, “well, i don’t pay attention to your background life.”

we were watching a show where the divorced couple was really amicable and 10 y/o asked, “why is the mom allowed in the dad’s house?”

every time i leave a room, my kids start yelling, “moooooooom?” while their dysfunctional need to know where i am every minute is somewhat flattering, i get tired of responding after the first 400 times. the other day i was ignoring the calls from the next room which prompted 10 y/o to say, “where are yoooooooooou?” i yelled back, “i left.” then i added, “maybe i should wear a tracking device.” 10 y/o agreed saying, “that would be nice for both of us.”

dinner at grandma’s house the other night included zucchini muffins (which 7 y/o thought were delish until she realized they were healthy) – 10 y/o said she really liked them because they had “a microwaveable quality to them” which reminded her of my cooking…

watching 10 y/o put ketchup on her plate sparked this conversation:

“i thought you didn’t like ketchup.”

“i like it only with specific foods.”

“like what?”

“french fries.”

“what else?”

“nothing.”

“well, that is specific.”

me to 7 y/o, “i notice you hardly play in your room anymore.” 7 y/o, “that’s because you make me clean it up.”

upon telling the girls, they would have to come with me to my doctor appointment, and 10 y/o asked, “is it for a genealogy test? i said, “i think you mean gynecologist.” “whatever, i don’t want to go to your vagina appointment.”

7 y/o to 10 y/o after i laughed at something she said: “she is just going to have more and more things to put in the blog. oh no. i just gave her one. i better just not talk. ugh. she’s writing that down too.”

7 y/o likes to pretend she’s a cat but she gets extremely rambunctious when she does. the other night, it was late & she wanted to play cat and i told her she could but she had to be a calm cat. 10 y/o chimed in, “yeah. a cat on meds.”

me: “look, a baby deer.” 7 y/o: “it’s probably a teenager. babies can’t be alone.”

7 y/o to me after i explained an idea to her, “this is your plan?”

7 y/o watching an untalented disney star (as if there is any other kind) sing, “he is totally lip singing.”

10 y/o was half-heartedly complaining about being blog fodder (she actually really loves the attention) and i said, “but i never use your names. no one knows who you are.” “right, you just say 10 year old and 7 year old like no one knows who that is.”

7 y/o remarked to her sister, “you are double digits now.” and then i said, “wow, you are getting so big!”  she replied, “yes, i’m a tweenager now. it goes from juvenille to tweennesss, to drinking adult.”

me to girls, “i made rice krispie treats yesterday.” 10 y/o, “you actually made something?”

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NC-17 / one liners- hey it's easy — 7 Comments
5
Oct 10

put your burrito in my glove box

men want to know: why do women fake orgasms? i’m not sure, but i think it may have something to do with either your pathetic lack of ability, your sad, fragile, ego, or the fact that you just won’t stop asking if we don’t. quite frankly, i am not sure why we bother on any account – because it’s really fucking tiresome at this point.

and on that note, if you have to ask her if she came, you already have your answer.

the more men i meet, the more i don’t want meet any more men.

so i have a vibrator i use only for special occasions – it’s so powerful it must be plugged in…it gives you one hell of an orgasm, but it requires protective gear lest you obliterate your bean.

you would be surprised how many crises orgasms & booze can see you through.

so, while my pal was deciding what went best with mexican food, white or red, i was deciding on beano or gas-ex.

i’m starting my own dating site that has an honest name like, “the ones that were thrown back,” or “plenty of dicks in the sea,” or “short dudes need love too.”  but i think i’m just going to go with, “creepy strangers looking for sex.”

so my gf and i were trying to figure out the best way to have The Talk with our girls when The Time inevitably comes. you know, the one where every mother must explain to her daughter that she would be wise to sleep with as many men as possible lest she unwittingly commit to one small poorly skilled penis for the rest of her life.

here is what i want the 20 year old women to know: romantic comedies only happen in the movies, there is no Happily Ever After, and a Happy Ending is something that only happens in an illicit massage parlor.

found out the girl cat is a boy. my sister was shocked i didn’t know. and it was quite logical that she said to me, “aren’t you an expert in such things?”  but it turns out that applies only to my own species.

and when i was surprised the girl cat was a boy, the vet just looked at me quizzically and said, “really?” and i said, “well there was no hangy thing.” and she said, “he’s not a mountain lion.”

i love my new pleather couch, but what i adore most about it is how the spilled vodka just beads up for easy cleaning the next day.

i don’t do virtual sex of any kind: i find it’s enough for a man to leave me unsatisfied in real time.

i find forced small talk awkward, and the conventions governing such after sex are really unclear. like, just how long do you have to chat politely before you can ask him to leave?

is there a 12 step program for habitually sleeping with assholes?

here’s another benefit of dating men of all ages: you can literally see the evolutionary path of jackass to asshole right before your eyes: you can almost pinpoint the precise moment when he will become a huge disappointment to his future wife.

new bumper sticker: END MERCY FUCKING NOW

there is no amount of vodka that can prep you for a sleepover party in your home with 9 squealing 7 year olds – so don’t even try.

so the ex told me that i am “a liar, cheater, & a thief.” i told him he “forgot bitch, whore, & mental patient.” i just hate an insult that isn’t thorough.

screw the cab company phone numbers at the bar, i need a Booty Call Hotline. i can always bring a designated driver.

if i am an army of one, then i am coming to kick your ass.

the more sex you have, the more laundry you have to do. monica lewisnky had one dress – i have an entire sperm bank in my laundry bin.

i was beginning to crave the steady companionship of a man until we got the kitten. now i am content to stay home and stroke his soft hairy body. sheds a whole new light on the reasons women become Crazy Cat Ladies – literally.

from the i thought i would never have to buy that again files: i cut my asshole shaving several weeks ago (i’m sure i  have mentioned that i am very thorough in my personal grooming), and it wouldn’t heal; because, apparently, the swampy environment prevents proper ventilation which is needed for successful anal fissure recovery. after assuring me i didn’t have a dire situation occurring in my crack that would require full disclosure to future sex partners, my GYN told me i just need some diaper rash cream. guys, what is hotter than that?

how long do you have to be having sex with someone before you can demand they shave their back?

i farted loud enough to wake the new kitten. i am now worried i could blow him clear out of the bed.

male volunteers needed for a new study: i would like to test my hypothesis that if you stick a battery in a man’s ass, you can make his penis vibrate.

so in the throes of the passion, a guy once said to me, “oh, i can feel your g-spot.” you know what? i was glad one of us did.

this same jackass wanted to go in my jacuzzi with me, but i declined, explaining he wasn’t really worth having to clean out the tub the next day. that is a major commitment.

so, once upon a time there was a beautiful suburban princess with long brown hair. she married a toad who never turned into a prince. he locked her away in 2 story tower with a finished basement.  but she was lonely and  grew tired of waiting for a real prince to come save her. she got a fairy god-lawyer and took most of the stuff, 1/2 of the cash, divorced the toad, & dated happily ever after. the end.

expanding the age range of men you date just increases the amount of men who can disappoint you & the myriad of ways in which they will.

talk about “being in your prime,” – i am so gd horny i have to take the edge off with my shower head before sex.

sigh -the last of year of my “dirty thirties,” approaches – but i do look forward to the “fuck you forties.”

you know what makes up for being stood up by someone you weren’t that into to begin with? tater tots & vodka.

overheard at work one day: “put your burrito in my glove box.”

the most ashamed i ever felt after a one night stand was finding out after that the dude dressed up as a pirate in his spare time.

so, logically, it follows that i have tightened up my personal facebook policy – now, no one i have slept with can be my friend – lest a perfectly enjoyable encounter with a complete stranger be ruined by really getting to know him.

what’s is worse than the waste of time a bad date is? the fresh contacts & the waste of makeup.

i have decided to take a hiatus from dating, however, i am accepting applications for gay bff. i realized that is all i truly need anyway.

some things i miss about being married:

double dates with other married couples who clearly hate each other too.

dinners with other couples and being forced to listen to two equally annoying people tell a painfully boring story in tandem.

asking someone their opinion on anything.

pretending to like the in-laws.

having to listen to someone ramble on about their day & truly not giving a crap.

washing shit stained tidy whities.

applauding dishwasher emptying.

finding empty tp rolls after taking a massive dump.

man fur on the bathroom floor.

oh and don’t let me forget this: nothing.

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