it’s hard to date just one person, and as yvette says: “it ain’t cheatin’, if you’re just eatin’…” i assume this applies to “beatin’ ” as well?
what is this business of getting to know each other before having sex? that is absolutely ridiculous – if the sex is bad, there is absolutely nothing else i need to know.
my old college buddy, miller, has now dubbed me, “surly with vodka.” as long as there is vodka, i don’t care what you call me.
things are moving kind of quickly with The BFFN (The Boyfriend For Now) and i have to tell you that i am really excited to get to that part of the relationship where i have to shower less…
we have decided to be exclusive – we don’t want to date any other couples.
he loves to pet my pussy – i’m really starting to become jealous of that cat…
the other day was National Smokeout Day. i think i may have misconstrued the meaning – turns out it was cigarettes, not pole.
the tightness of the pants i wear on a date depends on how quickly i plan to be out of them.
i’m not on west coast, central mountain, or eastern time. i’m on BCT: Booty Call Time.
Adam: “so, what are you going to wear on your date tonight?”
me: “something easy to slip out of.”
Adam: “are you planning on having sex?”
me: “do you have to ask?”
the new relationship is going so well – my only concern is the challenge it presents to my cynicism…
i have found BFFN’s fatal flaw: he snores deeply enough to suck small planets out of orbit.
BFFN asked me to promise not to fake the orgasms and i agreed as long as he promised to give me the reasons not to.
bumper sticker: have toothbrush, will travel.
i think the alarm clock could be improved by replacing The Snooze Button with a Morning Sex Button.
BFFN: “so, what kind of wine do you like?”
me: “cheap. like me.“
when people tell me to “behave” or not to “work too hard,” i just laugh – those are two things i never do.
BFFN: “my friend sent me pictures of his wife naked.”
me: “omg. what an asshole. let me see.“
before we go out, my friends tell me to keep my pants on and i admonish them not to.
it was friday night, and all across the land, bootay was being had. the queen was pleased.
BFFN: “you are the horniest girl ever.”
me: “thank you.”
since i have 2 girls, i am fascinated by my new nephews’ little wangs – its the only time tiny penises are adorable.
there is a cliched poster female co-eds like to hang in their dorm rooms – the one with the gorgeous man holding the tiny baby in the palm of his hand. now, this is where they have it all wrong – make it a balding, overweight, middle aged guy who never hears the baby crying at night and maybe we won’t have to suffer through the palins or shows like 16 and pregnant anymore.
mikey w: “i used to date a girl who liked me to cum on her face so she could rub it in – it’s good for the skin you know.”
me: “i’ll just stick with Oil of Olay.”
my pussy is so well groomed – i brush him every day and clip his claws every week.
me: “i’ll bring the booze. do you want cheap vodka or cheap wine?”
dana: “things seemed to be going so well. i don’t understand what happened.”
me: “he must have met someone else.”
dana: “or, he didn’t like how my vagina tasted.”
me: “well, that is always a possibility.”
i love car seat warmers – they provide all of the pleasant warmth of peeing in your pants with none of the wetness.
my pussy is so clean – he is always licking himself.
i was texting with my sister and mikey w. at the same time: the first convo involved giving motherly advice about the new babies, the second was a discussion of our sexual conquests in great detail. i just loved the irony of Parallel Textersations.
BFFN: “did you want to have sex?”
me: “well duh, of course i do, but what made you ask?”
BFFN: “well, you came back from the bathroom holding your belt & your pants are unbuttoned.”
hope was worried her date wouldn’t like the fact that her nail polish was chipped. i told her not to worry about it unless she was going out with a gay guy.
mikey w.: “who the fuck knows.”
me: “no one. so just fuck who you know.”
i’m really into the new bf, so i don’t want to date anyone else, but i do normally like to keep my options open, and by options, i mean legs.
i am going to market a new line of Do Not Disturb/Housekeeping hangers for the door that are more honest. one side will say FFIP: Fuck Fest In Progress. the other side will say, Caution: Wet Sheets.
BFFN: “you have to get off me – i really have to go now & get ready for that wedding today.”
me: “call in sick.”
the only time i condone the use of marijuana is for purely medicinal reasons – like before sex.
you should always visit a guy’s place before becoming too involved with him- it’s very important to see him in his natural habitat.
the beginning of a relationship is always so wonderful – the getting to know one another, the mind-blowing sex, the falling in love much too quickly, the trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with each other and when it’s all going to go to shit…
when we go on dates, women generally operate with the knowledge that the dude most likely only just wants to fuck us – any chick over 30 who doesn’t realize that is a moron or amish.
fuck that mars, venus bullshit. i think it’s more like oil & water: with enough agitation, you can get them to mix well together briefly, but no matter what, they always end up separating completely.
i pride myself on being the sanest one over a wide demographic of crazy friends, proving once again, that sanity is all relative.
ever hear of the wolf in sheep’s clothing? well i think i may be a dude in chick’s clothing…
you’re allergic to my cat so you can’t ever come over to my place? that is puuurrrrfect.
i like to go to the guy’s place – let him clean up the aftermath of the crime scene i’m surely going to create in the bedroom…
having all of this technology while dating creates new ways to asses a match: for instance, i find it very important that there is Compatible Textiquette. i think there should be a category on the profile called Text Preferences, because a mismatch in that area can be a total deal breaker. you would mark like desired frequency, preferred response time, and how just soon filthy texts can be sent…
on the subject of texting though, too much of it before you actually meet gives you false sense of knowing the person and feeling comfortable with him which normally leads to major disappointment in the real life meeting. although, i have had great Text Chemistry with many guys prior to meeting them, the excessive texting did not reveal the growth on the neck that should be looked at immediately, the hairy arm that was suggestive of a recessive werewolf gene, the bad breath that could not be cured with even a stick of minty gum, the nervous tics that had me running into the rest room hoping for a window to jump out of, the ripped dirty sweatpants, the rent-a-wreck he came in, the bad manners, the fact he hasn’t showered since his last date, or the fact that someone else had to be writing for him because the real life person was lacking any wit or personality. you gotta be careful with your virtuality – it’s an e-jungle out there.
i decide if i will sleep with a guy the minute i meet him by assessing if i can drink him fuckable.
i just hate to leave my pussy alone all night – i think i’m gonna have to start bringing him with me.
BFFN after checking out my laundry room: “i have to bring some laundry over, you have big machines.”
me: “i do have big machines. just make sure you bring some quarters for my slot.”
can u imagine how creepy you would be if you actually winked as much in real life as you do in texts? 
i was razzing BFFN about not wanting to go see him in his White Trash Apartment and he told me i had to go to the jungle to get ravished. apparently, me: jane, he: horny.
me referring to the kitten: “look, my pussy is excited to see you.”
BFFN: “so, what’s new?”
we have only been dating a week but it feels so much longer. a quick, cursory review might reveal why: we saw each other 5 out of 7 days, i have done inappropriate things to him in his apartment with clearly, no regard for his children sleeping in the next room, i demanded that he quit smoking on the first date, i agreed to go with him to his family’s thanksgiving dinner and meet his entire family (not shockingly, i was given the caveat to behave), we have watched 4 movies and exchanged toothbrushes & contact lens cases, and he did the pleasantly surprising & unexpected I Brought You Coffee Drop-By (he already knows how i like my coffee – Giant Skim Latte. STAT!), and i committed a hit and run in his building’s parking lot while leaving at 1 am the other night (oh whatever, it was just a tap that’s what bumpers are for). in week 2 he will come to my place so he can hit my neighbors’ cars and then we’ll probably knock over a bank and flee to mexico.
look i gave him head start and warned him to run as far away as fast as he could – you know men never listen.
i say: slack hard or not at all!
the next time i get invited to a wedding, i have the perfect gift: the name of my divorce lawyer.
BFFN: “we can’t fool around when you come over, my kids will be asleep in the next room.”
me: “what kind of horrible, slut do you think i am?”
BFFN: “the worst kind. “
me: “that is so sweet – you already know me so well”
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Tags: cat, cigarettes, dryer, latte, machine, marijuana, snoring, vodka, washer, wine
