the twelve days of swvmas*

on the first day of swvmas, my true love** gave to me:

a boyfriend*** who is so dream -eeee

on the second day of swvmas, my true love gave to me:

two red wines

and a boyfriend who is so dream-eeee

on the third day of swvmas, my true love gave to me:

three vodka tonics

two red wines

and a boyfriend who is so dream-eeee

on the fourth day of swvmas, my true love gave to me:

four calling men

three vodka tonics

two red wines

and a boyfriend who is so dream-eeee

on the fifth day of swvmas, my true love gave to me:

five golden rings****

four calling men

three vodka tonics

two red wines

and a boyfriend who is so dream-eeee

on the sixth day of swvmas, my true love gave to me:

six shoes on sale

five golden rings

four calling men

three vodka tonics

two red wines

and a boyfriend who is so dream-eeee

on the seventh day of swvmas, my true love gave to me:

seven chefs a cooking

six shoes on sale

five golden rings

four calling men

three vodka tonics

two red wines

and a boyfriend who is so dream-eeee

on the eighth day of swvmas, my true love gave to me:

eight maids a cleaning

seven chefs a cooking

six shoes on sale

five golden rings

four calling men

three vodka tonics

two red wines

and a boyfriend who is so dream-eeee

on the ninth day of swvmas, my true love gave to me:

nine glasses clinking

eight maids a cleaning

seven chefs a cooking

six shoes on sale

five golden rings

four calling men

three vodka tonics

two red wines

and a boyfriend who is so dream-eeee

on the tenth day of swvmas, my true love gave to me:

ten pants a fitting

nine glasses clinking

eight maids a cleaning

seven chefs a cooking

six shoes on sale

five golden rings

four calling men

three vodka tonics

two red wines

and a boyfriend who is so dream-eeee

on the eleventh day of swvmas, my true love gave to me:

eleven diamonds shining

ten pants a fitting

nine glasses clinking

eight maids a cleaning

seven chefs a cooking

six shoes on sale

five golden rings

four calling men

three vodka tonics

two red wines

and a boyfriend who is so dream-eeee

on the twelfth day of swvmas, my true love gave to me:

twelve barkeeps mixing

eleven diamonds shining

ten pants a fitting

nine glasses clinking

eight maids a cleaning

seven chefs a cooking

six shoes on sale

five golden rings

four calling men

three vodka tonics

two red wines

and a boyfriend who is so dream-eeee

*not so much a gift list, so much as a wish list

**there is no true love

***there is no actual boyfriend

****there is no reason to change this one

 Merry Bitchmas y’all! now give me a present and:

follow me on twitter and like me on facebook

i know i still owe you a “real” post, and it’s in process, but until then, here is a quick post of a bunch of my brilliantly funny single with vodka‘s fb page statuses, that most of you are missing because you are either too damn lazy, apathetic, or clueless to like the page. Some posts have been “slightly enhanced” (like every single star wars dvd re-re-re-release) because writing hindsight is much funnier and it’s not like you’re going to go back and compare. and if you do, suck it, and then ponder what you are doing with your life that you have that much free time on your hands.

ipod: check. towel: check. 32 oz water bottle: check. still feel like something is missing… oh yah, camel toe: check. now, i’m all ready for the gym.

i admit it: i bought the shake weight. it’s fitting that the “6 minute workout” music sounds like a bad porn soundtrack.

i am making a clean break from dirty martinis.

whenever i think i need a man in my life, i get some fresh batteries and in 2 minutes, i am over it.

i have a vibrator that is so good, i don’t scream “oh god,” but scream “i don’t need a man!”

what if farts had a color and the colors differed in darkness according to smell intensity? i think farting would have to be socially acceptable then.

faking orgasms is like eating potato chips – it’s hard to stop at just one.

roses are red, violets are blue, it’s been over a month since i got laid, so my legs i no longer shave.  (click here for the link to part 2: roses are red)

the go to revenge for all woman scorned: 1. the tiny penis revelation. 2. the admission of faked orgasms. yes, ALL of them.

happy hour: the hour when the kids finally fall asleep and you fall asleep in your freshly poured vodka tonic.

old mother hubbard went to her cupboard to find that it was quite dry. she looked round her bar, saw vodka no more & loudly did she cry.

“mommy, what’s the c-word?” “probably daddy’s pet name for me since the divorce.”

facebook is thoughtful enough to tailor the ad sidebar just for me every day: a dating site ad followed below by a divorce support group ad, followed by a romance a millionaire ad. what no vodka or AA ads?

days: 694. lawyers: 100K +. freedom: priceless. for everything else there is alimony.

you know what is so cool about divorce? you can tell your ex mother in law you always thought she was a c*nt.

so i heard there is this new shakeweight for men. i always thought it was just called a penis.

i always thought the story about crawling out of the bathroom window to escape a bad date was only a joke. but last night, i would have been the one telling that story had there only been a window…

sometimes the hangover isn’t worth the night before.

the hotness of the guy is directly proportional to the amount of booze you drink.

“mommy, can u play barbies?” “well, i was just doing some work”. “oh, so being on the computer and drinking wine is work?”

question: after casual sex with strangers, is it bad form to take the last unused condom home with you?

i am developing a new line of washing machines: they will have a Sperm Setting.

so the ex-asshat 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.

sigh – back on POF. it’s like a train wreck i can’t stop & i am the engineer.

gettin’ back into the dating pool but i have my floaties on this time…

there are absolutely no bottles of alcohol in my house… they are all in the recycle bin.

so i was gonna eat a mini snickers but then i thought better of it & just taped it to the inside of my thigh.

sobriety is greatly overrated.

i may have misconstrued the meaning of National Smokeout Day…

packing up a house is about as much fun as throwing up from too many dirty martinis.

i had to get dressed up for a meeting at work today, so i wore underwear.

I thought it was my new shower head but it turned out to be an earthquake.

i thought my life was a natural disaster until the hurricane rolled thru.

Once an asshat, always an asshat.

Possible book title: Once Upon An Asshat

stay tuned for my new sitcom in development: Dating With Spawn

today’s fortune cookie: You can’t polish a turd, but you can take most of his money.

It’s Vodka o’Clock.

It’ s 10pm. Do u know where your vodka is?

in my house, we watch Teen Mom for pregnancy prevention and Hoarders for mess prevention. Now if there were only a show for the prevention of dating asshats…

I like to think of the due dates on bills as more of a suggestion.

Sometimes a soft penis is a blessing in disguise.

20 year olds are for looking not touching. 20 year olds are for looking not touching. 20 year olds are for looking not touching…

so i started to give a shit today, but then i remembered not to.

the more men i date, the less men i want to date. i would have made a great lesbian.

Emergent Mulva Situation: have a date with a guy tonight and I’m not particularly sure what his name is.

Rifling through a guys medicine cabinet the next morning is a great way to glean additional information about him. Like his name for instance.

I really have to start using the garage – the neighbors are starting to track my one nite stands.

New relationships require an exhausting amount of impulse control that I am not properly medicated for.

Well that was a colossal waste of time…and clean underwear.

the change of season inspires me to go through the closets. this season i found all of the dresses i was was going to wear on all of those fabulous, romantic dates with a gorgeous oil tycoon after the divorce…so that worked out well.

There is nothing sadder than aging sorority girls.

the weight training is really working – my camel toe is so much more defined.

gf: “did you sleep with him?” swv: “well, of course i did.”

i’ve done the math: it’s not possible for a texter and a non-texter to make it work.

i don’t care if it’s raining men. let me know when it rains vodka.

i am to underwear as agador sparticus is to shoes.

i begged my ex-trainer to take me back, but he refused. my cellulite’s ego is hurt.

My hottest fantasy? It involves converting a non- texter into a texter…

ooo, baby, yah, text me there. you know how i like it.

Civilizations have risen and fallen faster than my current “relationship” is progressing.

A butterfly can not date a larva and expect to be successful.

Well, the second date may have been a bust, but at least I finally waxed my mustache.

According to a new study, drinking at home alone is hurting the economy… I’m sorry.

due to the recent downturn in dating events, i am now accepting applications for my Golden Girl House. the openings are Cat Wrangler, Housekeeper, and Bartender. Drunken Bitchy Slut is already taken.

I was going to friend request my college roommate but then I remembered she was a c*nt.

The sign at the gym about etiquette that asks you not to stare at other members during their workout was not up when i was there the other day…i AM making a difference.

so many sins to atone for on Erev Yom Vodka. where do i even begin?

some people throw bread in the ocean to atone. i threw ice cubes in my vodka.

I love when it’s so loud in the bar that I don’t have suppress my farts.

Just decided on my Halloween costume: Ghost of Bitches Past.

Flu shots? Nah. Let me know when I can be vaccinated against Assholes.

Flattery may not get you anywhere, but it will definitely get you into my pants.

What kind of man do I attract on match.com? The kind that lists “Playboy” as his last read. Awesome.

Bachelor Number 3 has a “few extra pounds” and goes by the handle of “Schleppy.” so, he’s a definite on the favorite list…

i was going to go as a Huge Bitch for Halloween, but then i remembered that i wear that every day.

I couldn’t figure out why my gf’s hair always looks so good and then I realized…it’s just clean.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me three times, well the sex is really good…

so my cousin spent the weekend in vegas grinding on 21 yr olds. closest i got to that this weekend was grinding my coffee beans sunday morning.

My coffee date today was “described as handsome”…i’m guessing by his mother.

Spent the evening peeling off my nail polish. More fulfilling than most dates I’ve been on.

consider your bootay called.

it’s friday and you know what that means – a sunday morning that smells like spilled vodka and regret isn’t far behind.

what good is a booty if it doesn’t come when it’s called?

if i’m not into the guy who emailed me, but i like his hot friend in the photo with him, would it be wrong to email him back and ask for the other dude’s contact info?

I think the perfect place to host a singles mixer is the liquor store.

Sunday morning hangover cure: Bloody Mary over a mani/pedi.

yes, money and size matter, but the degree to which is usually inversely proportional.

i have a Do Not Call List for booty.

I can never tell if a man is just sharing his interests with me or trying to brainwash me.

It’s almost Bitchoween. I’m going as myself.

i’m giving out those little chocolates with booze in them for halloween.

Shhh…you had me at “Vodka.”

what is the maximum allowable human dose of advil before liver damage sets in? i prefer to do that with vodka.

there may be no use in crying over spilled milk, but spilled vodka is another thing entirely.

Things I should be doing now: paying bills, tallying up receipts of what ex owes me, laundry, dishes. Things I am doing now: contemplating if pineapple soda or pink lemonade will go better with vodka and why I’m watching iCarly without my children…

Bitchy Vodkaween!

Unless you called to tell me that I won the lottery, you’re offering me a job as head writer on my own sitcom, my ex is dead, or that I’m invited to participate in a medical study in which vodka and chocolate are miracle cures for everything, don’t leave me an f’n voicemail.

Just heard about a Christmas registry. If we as a society are just going to register for everything now then mine will be at the liquor store.

I’m placing the outstanding receipts still lingering from my divorce into a spreadsheet named: What Asshat Still Owes Me Other Than My Wasted Youth and The Best Years of My Life.

Coffee. Vodka. Wine. Excedrin PM. It’s the circle of life…mine.

8 y/o: why are you drinking red wine? Me: because I’m out of vodka.

Going to start weighing myself in kilograms.

I hate waiting for delayed gratification.

Dating sites should have a spot to fill in your car type and year. I need to know if I’m meeting a 1999 Saturn or 2011 Lexus prior to committing to coffee.

Makeover? No thanks. What I really need is an Extreme Do-Over.

When with family, you can drink or talk; but you can not do both at the same time.

Wanted: Hot trainer. Must be willing to be paid in gratuitous gropes, thong peeks, and over the top flirtation.

So does happy hour start an hour earlier now that we turned the clocks back?

Reaching maximum crabbiness in 5..4..3..2..1. And the guidance counselor said I would never reach my full potential.

Me: Aunt Flo will be here any minute today. That’s why I was so crabby yesterday. 11 y/o old: silent but with a pointed stare… Me: well, more than I usually am.

november 9th:

happy UN-iversary to me!

happy UN-iversary to me!

happy UN-iversary dear, swveeeeeeeeeeeeee!

happy UN-iversary to me!

I’m drinking some tea tonight. It’s a bitter flavor called “I’m Out of Vodka.”

a friend told me Google autocorrected “chin strap goatee” to “douchebag.” When the internet knows you’re a douche, it’s time to rethink your look.

i got messaged by a guy on match who says in his profile that he wrote his dog a love song. i can not compete with that.

It is oddly comforting to stand next to a man who you spent 18 years of your life with and finally see him as nothing more than a sperm donor.

Score for this week: Accomplishments: 0 Naps:3

Out of children’s tylenol. Gave grape juice and hoped for placebo effect.

There are a lot of things that scare me about online dating, but mostly it’s the uncircumcised penises.

Dating: the more you do it, the less you want to do it.

i am so in love with my tv, that my showerhead is getting jealous.

 follow me on twitter and like me on facebook too! yes, i already know how demanding i am and i don’t care. do it!

so, there have been a lot of new registrants to the ol’ swv blog and i am soooooo grateful for each and very one of you that is an actual human and not a spam site. it is not a secret i have been long overdue in posting, and i do have a bunch of half finished posts strewn about the place (i swear), but i’m always way to busy (read: buzzed) to finish one. so i thought i would just cut and paste a large selection of my wonderfully witty tweets here for several reasons: it’s still original material, it’s the easiest, laziest post ever, and maybe you will finally follow me on twitter and facebook. also, feel free to comment on the blog at the end of the posts like other real followers of real blogs. i mean seriously, sweet jeebus, people, i can’t do all of this by myself. if there is one thing the innerwebs and twitter has shown me, i am but a minnow in a huge online sea of funny, witty, and brilliant fish. and i am further reduced to one microscopic plankton in the whales’s gullet without a respectable following…

here is most of what you have been missing: (oh ,and yes, i’m aware the spacing f-d up. just deal with it.)

Dear Evolution: pubic hair is no longer necessary. K, thx. Love, All of Us.

today’s blog is brought you by the letter “Ohhhhhhhhhh” and the number 69.

there is this perfectly coiffed & overdressed gay dude who works at my store, but something is slightly off that i can’t seem to put my finger on – it’s like he’s a budget version/knockoff gay guy.

i hate when the cashier says, “ma’am after you i’m closed. can you tell anyone else who gets in line behind you?” NO! i hate that responsibility. i just want to buy some eggs, not do crowd control on the check out lines. why isn’t there some kind of system in place for this? like a shopping cart roadblock? or a flag for my cart? or a sign placed behind my ass?  hell, i will stick a fucking flag out of my ass if it means i don’t have to deal with that bullshit.

i thought i was sick of the dumbass men in my life, but i am even more sick of the men in my girlfriend’s lives and i can not get rid of them.

i always have a drink to calm those first date jitters. i like to start with a round of astroglide martinis. and make mine a double…

i thought getting my children ready for school was stressful because i’m not a morning person, but it turns out i’m just not a child person in the morning.

at my last job, my fellow employees played a game before i got there called “hide the beef jerky” which apparently provided hours of entertainment. this inspired me to come up with some of my own games to pass the time at my current gig when it gets slow, but anyone can pay along. so let’s play spot the toupee, find the escaped mental patient, let’s guess who got dressed without a mirror today, do i smell a crazy cat lady?, inter-department merchandise hide n’seek, water fountain olympics, intentional wrong direction jeopardy, things to do all day instead of actual work trivia, watch the clock-a-thon, secret online shopper, manicurist at my desk, guess what your co-workers look like naked, detect the creepy employee, just off the boat jibberish to english translator, creative cooking with the employee fridge/lunch scavenger hunt, ass-kissing for fun & profit, and 30 second security camera streak.

i knew my last relationship was over when he told me he didn’t want to text me anymore – he actually wanted to talk.

i don’t recommend looking at the victoria’s secret bathing suit catalog while eating an entire pizza.

you know online dating is not for you when one of your “matches” is a guy that sounds perfect after reading his well crafted profile, but upon doing a double take at his pix, you realize not only was he the biggest asshole you ever knew, but he was once your ex husband’s best friend.

having an affair may actually have saved my marriage – if only my husband hadn’t found out.

i still live in the town in which i grew up and i gotta get outta here – after avoiding the same people for so many years, i need some new ones to avoid.

i don’t need any sugar, so what is the etiquette regarding knocking on a neighbor’s door for tampons?

i am writing a new bloody and completely terrifying horror novel that even stephen king can’t top: Snowed In Without Tampons.

i think investing in the market today is all about finding recession proof stocks. i am investing in astroglide, tampons, vodka, & birth control devices.

i won’t you date for your money, but i will use you for your sense of humor so i can steal material for my blog without crediting you.

qualities that make a new bf extremely attractive: he not only has no issue with your shoe habit, but enables it by giving you a 20% coupon for a shoe website you didn’t even know about.

please, don’t drink and read. you won’t remember the ending.

keeping the house perfectly in order all the time while selling it is like constantly being on a heightened state of terrorist alert. i have to be ready for a possible homeland invasion at any given moment.

i wish i had my trainer’s personal phone number so i could call him up & bitch at him the next day for the incapacitating pain i am in.

scenes from suburbia:

vet’s office, 3 pm in the afternoon.

vet tech: “how may i help you?”

me: “i’m here to pick up p.nut…p.nut lost his peanuts today.”

vert tech does spit take. end scene.

i think pepto bismal should come in a vodka flavor.

a smart woman knows who butters her pussy…

i know texting while driving is frowned upon, but what about flossing while driving? is that a ticketable offense?

it sucks having a gay store manager. my adorable charms are completely ineffective.

do they sell astroglide in kegs?

what are those things called that you use to find treasure that has been covered up or hidden,?  oh yah – a boner detector.

me: i hate monkies.

mikey w: really? i was thinking of getting one – just so i can spank it.

what was that song about wishes? oh yeah – something like “when you wish upon a schlong, makes no difference who you’ve done…”

i appreciate the little things in life. well, except small penises…

astroglide is miracle-gro for penises –  just sprinkle some on & it will reach it’s full growth potential.

the right guy will think you are the best thing since sliced pussy.

don’t judge a penis by it’s owner.

never look a gift cock in the mouth. or it always put a gift cock in your mouth? i can never remember.

i serve guests water from my kitchen faucet and say it’s filtered. i lie. do you think that they won’t want to come back now? i prefer not to have visitors anyway.

i had dated a great guy who i thought may have been The (second) One.” there was just one teeny tiny thing that was a problem – his wife didn’t agree.

i don’t need a lot of attention. i need a lot of E-ttention! and i want it NOW.

my mom bought me one of those vacuum things that sucks the air out of opened wine bottles to keep the leftover wine fresh. it is just so adorable that she thinks an opened bottle of wine actually has a chance to go bad around here. or that there is even unfinished wine for that matter.

i hate groups, support or otherwise. i am more of a Lone Milf.

so i am writing a new exercise book, it’s called: Thin Things After 30 Lays.

i am very particular about the men i will sleep with – they must have a pulse or a penis.

it’s very convenient having a spare pussy – now the cat pays attention to my kids when i’m busy.

wouldn’t it be cool if you could put on a soundtrack to your own sex life?

my ex bf didn’t just play one on tv, he was actually a douchebag in real life.

i need a man who is the clyde to my bonnie of texting.

i’m a whore, not a fighter.

i like to tidy up a bit before the cleaning woman comes, so she doesn’t have to dust around the clutter of the lube bottles and vibrators…

gf: “i just heated up sake in a coffee cup. what is wrong with me?”

me: “this is exactly why you are my bff.”

i have no secrets…though some people certainly wish i did.

is it wrong for the tooth fairy to borrow money from the donor’s piggy bank for an unexpected lost tooth?

i love getting into my bed every night with just my warm pussy, but the girls really wish the cat would sleep with them.

i didn’t divorce plan, but i did affair plan. far more work i would imagine.

i think my pussy has herpes – he’s gets these blisters on his lip from time to time.

i’m really worried about my pussy’s swollen lip, so i went to the doctor, but the vet said it’s probably just an allergic reaction to something he ate.

i’m going to have a telethon to raise awareness for my blog. instead of donating money, you pledge facebook friends to like the swv fanpage and spread the gospel.

you know how i know my cleaning service is doing a really thorough job? they found a pair of undies in the couch cushions.

i still think there is a lot of discovery left for me to do in bed with the right man – i need a jacques cousteau of sex.

those close to me worry that i will use the blog to make digs at them. i told them i would never do that – i will always insult them in person.

gf: “i want to lose 40 pounds for my birthday.”

swv: “i want to fuck a black man for mine.”

gf: “you may be setting yourself up for disappointment. you know what they say…white men will never be able to satisfy you after that.”

swv: “they don’t satisfy me now.”

any time a guy doesn’t want to wear a condom i say, ” that’s fine – i am ovulating at this exact moment and i would love to have another child.”  then he puts two on…

hey guys, you don’t need to keep your woman barefoot & pregnant, just drunk and fat.

you know those weight loss books, Eat This, Not That? my friend, pete, and i want one called, “Drink This, Not That.”

after going to the shooting range, i came up with a great idea for a new sitcom: jews with guns.

people who know me are concerned i am going to blog about their personal lives. they don’t need to worry – they’re really not that interesting.

my friend said she wouldn’t get married again unless the guy is loaded and is terminally ill. they would honeymoon at the hospice.

i tried to take a nap today, but it’s just so hard to get comfortable at my desk.

do you think after my hot personal trainer whips me into shape he will just whip me?

i really don’t feel up to working today – i’m just going to call in hungover…

being a tough (read: bitchy) woman is okay as long as you use it for good, as my gf calls herself, Glenda, The Good Bitch

i am developing a new perfume, it’s scent is very musky with a hint of aftershave – i’m calling it, Adultress.

the trainer asked me if i had any muscle imbalances which he explained meant that the muscle on one side of your body is stronger than the same one on the other side. i said, other than the tricep on my handy j arm, i didn’t think so…

it used to be you were golden when you had a doctor or lawyer in the family. now, it’s a computer guy.

new bumper sticker: Natural Born Ball Busters

women wonder when they will ever be comfortable enough with a new man to make love with the lights on and men just want to know when it will be safe to fart around her.

i have no interest in dogs unless they can breed one to bring me my phone whenever i can’t find it -a Texting Retriever.

remember stridex pads? wouldn’t it be great if we had those for The Morning After to wipe off the memory of The Night Before?

i am in search of that mythical white creature with the long horn – The UniCock.

never send a boy’s penis to do a man’s job.

i hate getting up in the morning no matter how much sleep i had. i swear i would still push snooze after waking from a coma.

mikey w’s repost request: there is a boy missing a sock in wisconsin. if your left testicle hangs lower than your right, please repost this in your facebook status so the boy can find his sock.

did you hear about the new event in the winter x games? X-treme Fucking. i’d tell you the qualification requirements if i wasn’t so busy training…

i’m going to go take a nap – wake me when i’m in a good relationship.

when it comes to orgasms, i can certainly be a do-it-yourselfer, but i still prefer to call in The Guy.

the last time i had sex, i got lube all over the guy’s head, and not the right one.

i have done the research: it is possible to be fucked dry.

sometimes i forget things i did or said during sex – i get Orgasm Amnesia.

what’s done is done. there is no use crying over spilled lube.

dont make me beg! after you subscribe to the feed, like me on facebook!

i got a music box for chanukah, it didn’t play music, so much as complain every time i wound it up.

i love when guys talk to me in bed and say things like, “you’re so hot,” “i love your body,” and “less teeth, please.”

you have heard of The Secret? well how about The Gift – that is what i call blow jobs.

i am like a corvette, very responsive & fun, but the maintenance is astronomical.

since i’m no longer drinking at night & passing out, i have to bore myself to bed.

without the buzz, life is so… sooo….oh, what’s the word? oh yeah – B O R I N G.

clean living is for the puritans.

dr. swv says anti-depressants are great, but an orgasm a day, keeps the anxiety away and you don’t need a prescription for a case of batteries.

i have really examined all of the relationships in my life, past & present and it’s clear i need to take the george costanza approach to things now: do the exact opposite of what i would normally do.

i am so flattered, i found out that some of the chicks at work think i am a total snotty bitch.

i cannot abide a bad attitude – unless it’s my own.

ever notice that the people with the most to say on facebook have the least interesting content?

when my gf’s complain about stupid shit their men have done, i always get it – they are bitching to the choir.

when a man holds the door, i am impressed by his chivalry at first, but then i wonder if he just wanted to look at my ass as i passed by.

i had so many things to do at work today, but my job got in the way.

if  semen was meant to swallowed, it would taste like chocolate syrup.

i love the snow fall at night – the color of the sky, the stillness of the night, the sound it makes as it gently drifts to the ground, the way it coats everything so perfectly covering all the imperfections of the world with a beautiful, shimmering blanket. the next day, however, it traps us in our homes against our will and requires crushing, back breaking labor to be free of it. it turns into a filthy mess and the purity it once had becomes marred by dirt as it retreats unevenly from the sun, revealing ugly barren patches   – it’s exactly like my marriage was, except the snow eventually melts and goes away on it’s own.

have you ever gotten that “i am who i am” speech from your signif other when you ask for some changes? well, mikey w. calls that getting “popeyed.” this is not much different than the jedi mindtrick he also explained i frequently fall for, where, the guy tells me, “these are not the changes you’re looking for.”

i love to sit and have coffee before the kids wake up. it’s the calm before the storm.

is it wrong to take a nap during a playdate…at your house?

note to my kids: you are not toddlers anymore and the amateur shows in the basement are no longer amusing, they are just a huge challenge to my patience. effectively immediately, a license will be needed for all future performances which will most likely not be granted.

and right there – i have figured out why i am not as patient a parent as i’d like to be: a teeny tiny attention span.

if the guy you’re dating asks you if your daughter knows his sister, he may be too young for you.

do you think it’s a bad idea to let the person who introduced you to your ex-boyfriend, set you up again?  (“he’s a really nice guy.” “ummm, you said that last time.”)

you know you have the coolest boss ever when she plays wingman while you’re hitting on a prospect during a sales call.

why is that kids hear every single thing you say and can repeat it but they never listen?

hey guys – going “dutch” on a date is totally fine – if you don’t want to get laid.

i gave up 20 years olds – just like carbs, they are always around tempting me and are sooooo hard to resist, but i know they aren’t good for me and i always feel fat after i enjoy them.

on exes: no takesies backsies!

you know you have major commitment issues when you don’t even want to read a book for fear of getting too involved with the characters.

i am on this amazing diet that really works! you only have to give up one thing – food.

well, i finally did it! i dieted down to my online weight.

my friend told me she is going to bleach her teeth – now she is only going to drink white wine.

the problem with dating is most men dive into relationships before they realize they don’t know how to swim.

i gave my gf a bunch of bras that don’t fit me. she now calls me The Bra Fairy.

never confuse slutty with stupid.

i gave up drinking to save calories, but it turns out i’d rather give up food.

do you really like me? then, prove it on facebook!

i am not looking forward to yet another giant snow storm out of which i am going to have to shovel all alone since the BBFA (assuming he even would have come to my aid) is now the BFNM and the neighbors certainly won’t be coming to help because it seems the wives got together and banned them from even glancing in my direction now that i am the divorcee across the street. but, what’s worse is it just so happens tomorrow is normally my day off and instead of getting a mani/pedi, i will be trapped in the house with two bored children all day. in light of that realization, i have come up with a list of 50 snowy day activities to stave off cabin fever in a DRY house (who’s terrible idea was it to stop drinking for awhile to lose weight anyway?):

1. alphabetize all the canned goods in my pantry.

2. pluck my nostril hairs.

3. make kitty litter sculptures.

4. check all of the expiration dates on my coupons that i continually clip and never use.

5. go through old family albums with my girls and let them make fun of my hair and outfits from the 70′s…and 80′s…and 90′s…and 00′s.

6. stop pretending for one day that surfaces higher than my 5’0 eye level don’t get dirty and actually dust them.

7. put all the socks in balls and cut the single ones loose.

8. straighten out all the twist ties.

9. clean all of the long ago abandoned cobwebs out of the recessed lights.

10. collect the dust bunnies from under the couch and use them to insulate the drafty windows.

11. pick all the salt off the pretzel sticks.

12. watch a pot boil and bread toast.

13. sharpen all 400 pencils in the junk drawer.

14. explore what all of the random keys i have open & try not to get sucked into an alternate universe when i find a small door i never noticed before.

15. floss really, really, reaaaallllllyyyyyy well. twice.

16. knit a gray scarf out my findings from the lint trap.

17. put all of the silverware facing the same way in the utensil drawer.

18. spit polish each crystal on the chandeliers.

19. give the cat a deep conditioning treatment.

20. iron all the clothes that i washed over the last 10 years that i never wore again after washing them because i needed to iron them.

21. macaroni self-portraits.

22. sort the mutli-colored glitter into separate piles and then mix it all up again.

23. count the amount of popcorn kernels in a bag of microwavable popcorn & then decide if the ratio of popped to unpopped is acceptable.

24. measure the runs in all of my pantyhose that need to be thrown out because they have runs in them.

25. scrape the plaque off my teeth.

26. watch the hair on my legs grow.

27. test all 1000 magic markers to see which ones are dried out & then arrange them in rainbow order.

28. remove the chunks from the chunky peanut butter.

29. count how many stripes my cat has.

30. scrub all of the grout in my kitchen with my ex bf’s toothbrush.

31. search ebay for every toy i ever owned as a child and bid ridiculous amounts of money to win them.

32. organize the buttons in the button jar by type and color.

33. snip off my split ends.

34. categorize all the loose recipes i have cut out for meals i will never make in a binder i will never open.

35. do that thing from second grade with the avocado & the toothpicks in a cup of water where you try to get it to root and once it does, throw it out.

36. untangle all of the rubber bands.

37. see just how many cups of tea you can get from one tea bag before it runs clear (oh dear god, i miss vodka).

38. watch water freeze into ice cubes.

39. count the stars in Campell’s Chicken and Stars soup and then the seeds on a moldy strawberry.

40. fill each square of the frozen waffles with syrup.

41. mate the dino nuggets & bring them back from extinction.

42. bleach all of my freckles.

43. check the kids for parasites.

44. sort the paper clips into piles by size and make chains out of them.

45. remove all of the dead bugs from in between the vanes of the silhouettes.

46. change my password for every site i have a password for on the internet.

47. straighten my curly hair and then curl my straight hair.

48. make sure all of the hangers in all of the closets are facing the same way.

49. try to learn spanish by watching spanish soap operas and then try to learn to read lips by watching the tv with the volume on mute.

50. endlessly make inane lists.

you know, if you really liked me then you’d tell your friends to like me on facebook too!

of all the sounds of a bright, new morning, the one i like best is the sound of the school bus pulling away.

if i was ever eaten by cannibals, i bet they would find i have been thoroughly marinated in a delightfully aged vodka sauce with a hint of pinot noir.

a good friend is always there when you need her, but a best friend will wax your ass crack no questions asked.

my friends tell me i give them great advice. too bad i don’t actually follow any of it.

well, it finally happened: i have pussy fatigue – i have grown tired of having the cat.

i’m working on a screenplay: the season of the bitch.

so, after 5 months – all the passion is gone: the cat ignores me 90% of the time while i feed him & clean up after him. i have to say it’s not much different than most of the relationships i’ve had, but it has lasted longer.

it’s great that we finally have the HPV vaccination for women – now we  just need one to prevent the dating of assholes.

hey don’t forget: bitches need love too.

has a 7 year old ever told an interesting story?

you know what the best thing about a break-up is? The Revenge Diet followed by the Look What You Gave Up  & Will Never Have Again Makeover.

recently, i met with a financial adviser: we decided on an investment strategy of 30% growth, 20% risk, and 50% vodka.

the cat’s marbles are becoming impossible to ignore and his nails are way too long – it’s time for a snip ‘n clip!

i can’t stand those crazy animal people in the vet’s waiting room trying to be friendly. i am completely happy to be the snotty chick with the ONE cat who is not interested in your inane pet small talk about your disturbing relationship with your multiple animals and is certainly not amused by your shetland pony of a dog sniffing my crotch even when he is wearing a delightful bandana around his neck from his visit to the groomer yesterday.

i keep calling my kids by the wrong name, so i decided to just give them one of those cute celebrity combo names. is 2painsinmyass taken?

i decided to stop drinking at home – i’m strictly going out to do it.

i have been suffering from terrible work insomnia lately – i just have not been able to fall asleep at my desk no matter how tired i am.

i find playing Solitaire oddly comforting, it’s a game, but i’m organizing…

you can put your finger up my ass and your dick in my mouth, but do not put your toothbrush in my bathroom or your razor in my shower.

as a good friend pointed out, you can have a man with a big dick and a tiny brain or a tiny dick and a big brain. sigh, it is true that you just can’t have it all in one guy.

i am going to host a Dysfunctional Dinner Party: it will be pot luck, but instead of bringing your own dish, you bring you own disturbed relative. then we sit back and wait for the dinner theatre to commence.

or maybe a Dysfunctional Family Scavenger Hunt: 20 points for a an never married drunken aunt over 40, 30 points for an inappropriately touchy uncle, 40 points for getting two bitterly divorced parents in the same room, 50 points for a third cousin who has done jail time and is out on bail, 60 points for a kissing cousin, 70 points if it’s your first cousin, 80 points for your brother in law’s mistress or sister in law’s underage lover, 90 points for your brother’s baby mama, and 100 for any relative that has been to rehab more than once. first prize is a gift card to your favorite therapist.

i am sooo tired of being pegged as hard on the outside and soft on the inside. while it may be true, i feel like it really belittles my bitchy side.

what do grilling & cunnilingus have in common? most men grossly overestimate their skills at both and rarely achieve either to a woman’s satisfaction.

ladies, do not confuse “complexity” with “stupidity.”

i am so fucking sick of re-post demands on facebook. you can’t make me!

even when i don’t drink the night before, i wake up with a headache in the morning. my hang-overs must be set to cruise control.

my daughter doesn’t think i am a “cool” mom. i told her i didn’t care. i lied.

the more ways technology provides for me to keep in touch with people, the more ways i have to blow them off.

beer without alcohol? coffee without caffeine? that’s like sex without orgasms and air without oxygen: pointless.

oops i did it again: i faked the orgasms.

the aroma of freshly baked brownies is how balls should smell.

my last relationship didn’t make it through a complete case of the soda he was keeping in my fridge. i should have listened to my gut when i had that feeling that buying more than a 6 pack was thinking too long term.

i wish there was a way to meet the penis before the man and then assess if he’s even dating material – a reverse dating service where you sleep with him first and then see if you want to actually go out on a date after.

why do men think that they can fuck around behind our backs and we won’t know there aren’t other vaginas in play?

my policy on getting back together with an ex is similar to that of a retailer: no credits or returns after 14 days but i will gladly make an exchange for an item of greater value.

i have a hard outside with a soft, gooey center; but like a tootise roll pop, you never know how many licks it will take to get there.

i am sure i have said this already, but wouldn’t it be awesome if you could de-friend people in real life like you can on facebook?

i have been living clean now – it’s a struggle but i take it one day at a time – i am proud to say i have flossed for 2 days in a row. i want a medallion.

i am instituting a new dating policy after this last break-up: it’s called Pay 2 Play. i realized no one’s gonna buy the bottle, if they are gettin’ the vodka for free.

i know this is hard to believe, but i think i’m finally done with the drinking and sleeping around phase of my divorce recovery – the Suemusement Park is O-fficially closed and will re-open only for select season’s pass holders.

be a facebook fan! please…

i don’t care how you package up monopoly: classic, simpons, disney, junior, or mall edition. it’s all the fucking same: B O R I N G.

i am so over younger men – i am too old to date a guy who still lives with his parents, borrows his dad’s car to see me, & has to save up his allowance to take me to applebee’s.

oh santa, i was soooo bad this year but it was sooooo good. i don’t plan on making your good list next year either.

hormonal or just bitchy? potato. po-TAH-to.

how about for this year, we all just resolve to throw the year’s worth of gym fees out the window, move on, and avoid the guilt of quitting by february?

Q: what is worse than being snowed in with your kids? A: being snowed in with your in-laws.

my girls and i went to my friend’s house for christmas day as the token jews. everyone got along so nicely. no one drank too much or insulted anybody. the food was cooked all the way through and was all delicious. it was such a normal family gathering – hardly any evidence of dysfunction at all – i have never felt so out of place in my life.

drinking really can be hazardous to your health – i sliced my finger open twice removing the the foil from the wine bottle.

helpful holiday tip #27: when you re-gift something shiny, make sure you polish the fingerprints off of it first.

the second biggest holiday of the year is Slutmas. that is the day after x-mas when all of the relatives have gone home and the wives and girlfriends thank their men properly for the expensive, shiny shit they just gave them. it’s also, known as Bonermas in some circles. not to be confused with Blow Job’s Eve which is traditionally the night before she anticipates getting that big gift.

Merry Slutmas, bitches! Santa Balls You is cummin to town!

i can not get behind the whole freaking out at the forecast of snow and running to the supermarket with the rest of the lemmings to “stock up” on milk & bread. unless you have infants at home, what will happen if your family runs out of these staples for 2 days at the most? it’s not fucking little house on the prairie where pa & the last good horse have to leave the family in the cabin for 7 days to brave the wild frozen tundra to get mary’s scarlet fever elixir from town (and i never understood why they lived so far from town in the first place). the closest you will ever come to being a pioneer is having to walk your yappy little dog whom you have most likely dressed in a doggie sweater and booties in 15 degree weather in snow up to your knees, maybe. now if you tell me you must go out to get vodka, cigarettes, wine, & astroglide, that i can understand.

my pussy always wants to play – that’s how kittens are.

i pay a lot of attention to my pussy – otherwise he gets bored and claws the furniture.

when my gf’s ask for advice, i just say WWSVWD? What Would SWV Do? i think i’m going to have that put on those rubber bracelets.

i am not going to make a list of resolutions this year so much as a to-do list i am going to shove in a drawer and ignore.

one of the things about motherhood that is so exhausting is the constant sharing of everything – now it’s my cell phone, my food, my drinks, my computer, my bed. eventually it will be my clothes, my shoes, my makeup, my car, my tampons. unless they start anteing up some good stuff in return, i am so done with it.

being snowed in so close to new year’s inspired me to reflect on my regrets of the past year: had i only let my landscaper plow me, he would have plowed my driveway too.

how do you know for sure chivalry is dead? when you dig out of  36 inches of snow by yourself for 3 hours (though a small price to pay for my freedom).

my forearm was killing me from the repetitive motion of shoveling but i just had to keep going until i was done. this must be how 13 year old boys feel when they first discover masturbation.

i am sore all over and not in the good way.

snow is the only time you will get something that goes very deep, is over 6 inches, and is white.

there is nothing like a new pair of shoes and a good orgasm to cure what ails you.

when i find random screws around the house i always wonder where they came from and if something is about to fall apart.

i handled my last relationship as badly as marcia clark handled the OJ trial but i didn’t get a makeover and a tv show after it was over.

every time i try to quit drinking they keep pulling me back in.

the chinese calendar says 2011 is the  year of the rabbit. on the swv calendar, it’s The Year Of the Boot.

if the school requires my kid to be in a choral recital to graduate, do i have to go?  and if so, shouldn’t they have a drink cart? think of the money the PTA would raise…

my gf told me she reads my blog while on the crapper. i was so flattered!

i’m sooo over the cat now that i’m out of pussy jokes.

a friend suggested i train to the cat to make me drinks in exchange for cleaning up after him which isn’t all that different from any of my previous relationships.

why do i like cats? i have a lot in common with them: i hate to be picked up, i only want attention when i ask for it,  and if i don’t like you i will just ignore you & hide until you go away.

why don’t i like dogs? they are too needy, stupid, & messy. much like most of the men i have known…

like swv on facebook too!

i have hit another huge milestone since the divorce: i got my first set of junk mail labels with my new last name.

people are surprised how soft & silky my pussy is – well, i do brush him every day.

you know what is total BS? having a middle aged body with teen-aged skin. i hope clearasil makes a wrinkle cream.

my pussy is getting such a thick coat of fur – he must be preparing for the winter.

mimes & ventriloquists: if they all suddenly disappeared & never returned, i doubt anyone would really care.

dana: my son needs pictures of things that start with “W.” is a wine bottle inappropriate?

i am starting to think having a pussy is more trouble that it’s worth – he is destroying my house.

long live grapes and batteries.

i am converting to a new religion: Born Again Bitches. the church choir will be called The Sisterhood of the Traveling Tampon.

people always ask if i decide to get remarried, will i want more kids. more kids? i’m not sure i even want the ones i already have.

it may be time to upgrade the shower massager to a power washer…

carpe dickem! seize the dick.

i don’t need a full brazillian since i just want my ass crack waxed. what would that be? a grecian?

i’m working on a  divorce recovery program: basically it involves a lot of drinking, some minor pill popping, and a ton of meaningless sex with strangers. I am calling it My 20′s.

when it comes to blow jobs there are 2 kinds of women besides swallowers and spiters: the generous & the stingy. the generous are happy to do it any time for anyone and don’t mind their head being pushed into a strange crotch. the stingy think it’s a special gift to be doled out at their whim that better be gratefully received and never actually requested. food for thought…

you know what having the first fight means? having the first make-up sex.

i totally misconstrued the meaning of The Freshman 15 – i thought it was how many guys you were supposed to sleep with the first semester.

you are not truly on a budget until you are buying 1 ply toilet paper.

seen on the back of a dump truck on my way into work this morning: “our goal is to fill your hole.” well, why didn’t you say so, earlier?

i think it’s time to get my rug cleaned. come to think if it, the carpets could use a shampoo too.

do not get the “mexican blend” coffee at wawa – it’s a scam – there is absolutely no tequilla in it.

all men think they are bobby flay on the grill and ron jeremy in the bedroom.

college kids today have so many advantages we didn’t – i can only imagine how much more enriching my educational experience would have been with cell phones, the internet, and gift cards.

it’s really important to eat enough fruit & vegetables -  so i have  2-5 servings of orange, raspberry, & lemon vodka a day.

do you think the percentage of couples that break up after jan 1 is equal to the percentage that start dating october 1st?

if you can send your dog to obedience school, then why not your man? who’s a good boy? yes, you are! you’re my good boy!

and what about bringing him to the kennel, for that matter, when you need a vacation?

men, can’t live with ‘em, can’t lick your own pussy.

pussies rub themselves to get their scent on everything & claim ownership. that’s one of the things you have to put up with when you own a cat…or a woman.

ho, ho, ho? well, no wonder why santa is so merry.

you better not spit, you better get plowed. santa balls is coming to town.

if you fart in the forest and there is no one around to hear it, does it still smell?

so i told my bf he could come in my back door anytime – i gave him the spare key.

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