05
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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23
Sep 10

SSDP

i’m developing a new line of washing machines for single women: it will have a sperm setting.

i’m starring in a new reality show called, “revolving door.” guest stars are only on for one episode.

i’m done having babies – i’ve become claustrofetus.

when considering potential dates, i really try not to be shallow, but i’m just not deep enough…

remember the almond joy/mounds commercial? well, i have a similar jingle: “sometimes, i wanna be a slut, sometimes i don’t…”

women truly want to stop fucking assholes, but ask any woman why she does and she will tell you that it’s so hard to let a good penis walk out of your life.

i should have slept my way up while i had the body for it. i would definitely be running something by now.

i can’t decide which was worse: my last hangover or the last dude i slept with, but i can always take aspirin to get rid of the headache.

the amount of patience i have for my kids is directly proportional to my BAC.

saw a police officer forget her car keys at the bank counter. apparently “to serve & protect” does not require a short term memory.

it occurs to me that i am literally being paid to give a shit when i crap at work.

since i moved to the kitchen & bath department, there has been a marked increase in massage shower head sales.

frequently, i am asked which shower head i recommend. this advice obviously differs on the gender of the individual and the intended use…

the cruel irony of the bath aisle, is that i once had to hold my pee for 40 minutes while discussing the features of different toilets.

some guys are just not worth the good lingerie.

my newest bumper sticker:  stop me before i sleep with another loser.

do any of those “club” stores sell condoms in bulk? and if so, does anyone want to go halvsies on a membership?

bedtime is when i am pointing my cell phone at the tv to change channels and getting really pissed off that the remote is not working.

i always thought “scifi” was cool, but “syfy” is just douchey.

not only is it hard to find good help, but it’s almost impossible to find a steady lay.

i just don’t trust people who don’t drink. what do they have to hide?

gentlemen: when in a bar and you feel strange boobs in your back, in most cases it translates to, “i think you’re hot.”

if i wanted to date a guy that ignores me, i would have stayed married.

i told a friend the scent of lavender helps me fall asleep (you know – on the nights when i have run out of vodka). she said that it’s also supposed to be an aphrodisiac for men. i said, i thought that was called sex. i have a hard time imagining men need something to lure them into the sack.

sometimes i will sleep with a dude in whom i  have no interest in ever seeing again just because i already shaved my legs.

some foods are just naughty: mounds, lays, hohos, ding dongs, snoballs, nutter butters. i love them all.

i once starred in a limited engagement off off off off off breoadway of a modern version of an old classic: goldilocks and the three penises. except i don’t have golden locks and i never did find one that was just right.

greatest compliment i ever received from another woman about my hair: “it’s like porn star hair.”

let me sum up online dating for you: SSDP: same shit different penis.

it’s not even a muffin top anymore – it’s more like a pound cake.

my sister was holding a 1/2 full wine bottle when i was driving us home from dinner one night (yes, even i have to take at turn at being designated). her worry that we could be pulled over was compounded by the knowledge of how vindictive my ex asshat is. i tried to soothe her by saying, “i’ve been taken to court for less.”

it’s official, i am a “cougar.” but, i think the next time i want attention from something needy, i’ll just get a puppy.

one day while unconsciously following a cheesy man around the store, because i tracked his scent like a horny teenage bloodhound, i realized i am still a whore for drakkar noir. i am truly ashamed but i accept there is just nothing i can do change that – i got my chops on it when i came up through the ranks.

i am so thrilled! my sister has asked me to be The Cougar of Honor at her wedding when she gets married.

yes, it is different than the other 20 i already have. so, never come between a woman and her shoes. or her purses. in fact, stay the fuck out of her closet entirely.

i’m sure this has been said numerous times, but i would like to reiterate: a good man is so hard to find, but a hard man is so goooooood to find.

only when i find the man that can make me want to throw away my vibrator and retire the showerhead, will i even begin to consider a second marriage.

i’ve tried several times to quit drinking and men. damed, if i can quit the drinking.

i’m looking for a new couch: i want a fabric that is durable, comfortable, & spooge-resistant.

it turns out i’m a racist – i just won’t date certain ethnicities based on penis size.

fried calamari and sangria: bad idea. fried calamari and sangria before sex: worse idea.

i am not big on fad diets but i found one that really works: The SWV Diet: you supplement all of your carbs with massive quantities of coffee, wine, & vodka.  you won’t lose a damn thing, but you won’t give a shit.

qvc has a “purses & shoe” channel. add cats and you have cornered the lonely single woman with considerable disposable income market.

i no longer have rolls. i have loaves.

keep in mind with online dating: the more expensive the site, the higher the grade of asshole.

you know what would really make chicks dig giving blowjobs? magic shell for penises.

when engaging in naughty texts prior to sleeping with someone, remember this law: the sexting is inversely proportional to the actual sex.

when it comes to phone/e-sex, most dudes can talk a great game but can’t deliver on the court. and you can forget overtime.

the problem with discovering a small penis is that it’s just too late when you do.

i’ve fallen and i can’t get off.

why do the guys with the smallest wangs think they are huge? it’s like a penile napolean complex.

before the cleaning service comes, i like to tidy up a bit – lest they find my bra in the couch cushions.

before e-dating, the only impersonal, non confrontational way to dump & humiliate someone was by leaving a message on the ol’ answering machine. now we have texting, voicemails, emails, IMs, facebook, and the logical companion to all of those which is my personal favorite: The Complete Lack Of Response. technology is so life enhancing.

has anyone seen the new “pro-glide” shaving cream commercial for men? it advertises “less tug & pull” and comes with a cream to use for “pre-shaving.” sounds like shaving just got a lot more fun..

if you can’t shake a creepy guy at the bar, tell him you’d love to go home with him now that the valtrex is finally working and you haven’t had an outbreak in months.

the toilet was not working, so i decided to try to fix it myself before calling in for professional reinforcements. i removed the wrong part, caused a geyser, and not only became covered in toilet water, but was in it up to my ankles. after wondering if 911 covers toilet emergencies, i worried that since i had been contaminated by toilet water, only  a plumber could now love me.

i wish i had GPS in college – that walk of shame home would have been so much easier to navigate.

i think fantasy sports leagues are just ridiculous. now, a fantasy penis league i could support.

or how about a fantasy shoe league? i’ll trade you the manolos for the vuittons.

in instructing a newbie in proper shower head use, i warned her to start out slow so as not to blow her bean off. it’s my most valuable advice.

fuck me once, shame on you. fuck me twice, now that’s more like it.

what is it about the makeup chick’s brush holster that screams power? she’s like a superhero of makeup sales. she can whip out just the right brush for a blush emergency. i am handy with the beauty implements, but i am sure her powder skills are clearly superior to my technique while wearing that tool belt. or maybe, she’s really a villain, because i end up buying tons of extra shit i never even wanted.

aren’t we all porn stars of our own sex life?

in observing so many out of state & canadian license plates, it occurred to me that the drive-thru line at mcd’s is the UN of fast food.

it’s a penis buffet out there when you’re single: so much to sample, you can go back as many times as you want, it takes a lot to get full, there is always dessert, but you rarely get your money’s worth.

men are like bottles of vodka: it’s always good to keep a few extra in reserve in case of a dry spell.

sex is like pizza: even when it’s not that great, it’s still pretty good and it’s always perfect for breakfast.

all i want is to find is the gomez to my morticia.

so i gave in and got a kitten for the girls. i named her Divorce Guilt, D.G. for short, but the kids call her Peanut. i like my name better.

isn’t it unnerving to know that at any given moment, tons of women are walking around bleeding heavily and some of them just tried on that same pair of jeans?

i told my friend that she should come stay with me on my free nights so i wouldn’t be tempted to go out & carouse. she said she didn’t realize it was that bad. i told her, that at the rate i’m going, i’m going to end up pregnant or in a clinical trial…

i am out of vodka and i can’t go out. where is that damn st. bernard when you need it?

if you want to know exactly what my marriage was like,  when you have some free time, watch the my morning straightjacket episode of american dad.

brilliant things my friends have said that i seriously considered passing off as my own:

“you know it’s an affair gone wrong when your bikini wax cost more than the motel room.”

“i speak guido.”

“say hello to my little bean.”

“important ratios: tooth to gum, tit to ass, dick to ball.”

“monogamy = monotony.”

“the one night stand exists because women allow it to.”

“the bigger the diamond, the more doomed the marriage.”

“tampons & chocolate should be sold in a combo pack.”

“the only thing a second marriage has going for it, is a second divorce.”

“i finally realized why i love my car lease. unlike my 3 year marriage, i will return it with no hassle, never have to see it again, and can upgrade to a better model.”

amen sistas.

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15
Sep 10

chapter 5: the bra police

upon reading the details of a contest on a drink cap and observing the list of prizes was followed by the promise of  “and more,” 9 y/o snorted derisively, “ ‘and more’ is probably valued at a meat loaf.”

6 y/o to 9 y/o discussing the vacation they were going on with their father: “are we going to wisconsin?” “yes.” “maybe we will see my camp counselor – she said she was going there.”

i have promised 9 y/o she can get a kitten when we move (no, i don’t really want one, but it was a moment of weakness due to major divorce guilt), and  knowing what a handful kittens can be, i said i would prefer (like it matters) to adopt an older cat that we know is a lap cat. 9 y/o’s reply: “with a kitten there is no need for a lap cat, it’s a hand cat. cup of coffee in one hand, handcat in the other.”

on one saturday, my only day to sleep late that particular week, 9 y/o arose bright and early and watched tv until her sister and i woke up. when i finally emerged from my room, i asked her if she wanted some breakfast and she said, “no thanks. i ate tortilla chips and i’m full now.”

part 1: 9 y/o woke up and told me she wasn’t feeling well. since, i had to work that day, we had a spirited debate about whether or not she was really sick enough to stay home & necessitate the need for me to call out & lose pay for a day. she told me, “that’s what you signed up for as a parent. you didn’t have to give birth to me if you didn’t want to call out.”

part 2: so, my mother came to watch 9 y/o, so i could work the few meager hours for which i was scheduled and 9 y/o was so grateful, that she said, “if i ever need to take care of grandma, i will take off.”

9 y/o to grandma when she came visit one afternoon, “grandma, did you bring any food?”

9 y/o was loving on her sister and it was so cute, i couldn’t help letting loose a giggle, and she reprimanded me with: “i am trying to have an emotional moment here.”

me: “i just need a few minutes to finish writing this last paragraph.” 9 y/o snidely says to 6 y/o: “c’mon let’s go upstairs so she can finish writing about us.” they will thank me for documenting their childhood when they’re 30.

6 y/o: “would you rather have a mushy squishy tushy or a bony butt?”

6 y/o ” mommy, can you play barbies with us?” me, well i was just doing some work here on the computer right now.” 9 y/o, “oh so, watching tv and drinking wine is work?’

9 y/o discussing barbie’s ride with 6 y/o, “she drives a corvey.”

9 y/o telling me something about “silly bands (the newest overpriced crap fad to hit the grade school set), ” to which i replied in disbelief, “really?” and she said, “yes. i do not lie about silly bands.

this summer, their camp had a “winter in july” day to which the girls had to bring a sled. since it was kind of large, i started to help 9 y/o bring it to the bus. she stopped me and told me she would do it herself. i said, “am i really that embarrassing? “in unison, both girls replied, “yes.” (sigh. et tu 6 year old?

i gave up on tanning in my 20′s even tho i am so white i am almost transparent. upon noticing how pale my legs are, 9 y/o said, “mommy you need a tan, you’re whiter than coraline.”

9 y/o: “there was only one thing about camp i didn’t like this summer: one day the ice cream was only for the CIT’s and i got really mad. i take my ice cream very seriously.”

6 y/o: “mommy, will you go on the tatter totter with me?”

me to 6 y/o at breakfast: “i gave you 6 mini-pancakes and then you asked me for 3 more, so how many did you have altogether?” 6 y/o: “i don’t know. i don’t have math in my head. it’s summer!”

normally, i  strap these puppies down at night, but once in awhile they roam free. one morning, 6 y/o noticed and exclaimed in horror,  “mommy! you are not wearing a bra!” me: “and, why do you care?”  6 y/o, “i am the bra police.”

6 y/o in cereal aisle asking me if she can buy a particular cereal, “mom does this have crap in it?”  i have taught them well.

6 y/o: “mommeeeeeee, come get this spider web.” “it’s not a spider web; it’s a cob web.” “what are cobs?”

my sister & i used to read “the archies” digest comic books when were mere lasses & actually saved them lo’ these many years. 9 year old recently discovered the giant stack of them at her grandmother’s house and is now a fan. that being said, she is collecting the modern day editions. so, i told her to save them for when she is older and she will be glad she did. 6 y/o said, “yeah, so she can sell them online.” to which, i laughed heartily. in response to my amusement,  9 y/o said, “she is following in your footsteps.

9 y/o came home from school the other day most distressed upon learning a classmate has a heart condition & is not allowed to eat any chocolate. she said, “it’s the saddest thing i have ever heard.”

6 y/o heard the word chocolate and came over to investigate. when she learned there was, in fact, no actual chocolate, she said, “there is no chocolate here. i’m bored, ” and promptly walked away.

6 y/o saw my sister’s stretched belly (she is 6 months pregnant with twins) and said, “what happened to her bikini button?”

9 y/o had some dry skin on her face and i told her i would give her some lotion to put on it. upon hearing this she said, “yes, i need some for sensible skin.” chuckling, i said, “i  think you mean sensitive.

me to 9 y/o getting a snack to eat while watching tv: “don’t eat that on the couch!” 9 y/o, “i know the drill.”

while waiting for the bus one morning, the girls and i noticed the neighbors were having their roof replaced. the guys were yelling back and forth which prompted 9 y/o to say, “that may be the first conversation, i have ever heard on someone’s roof.”

me to 6 y/o struggling with a task: “can i help you with that, so it doesn’t take so long?”  she replied, “no, i like to be independent,”  which, of course, made me giggle. she then said, “i just knew you were going to laugh, somehow.”

i had caught a terrible cold from the girls recently and was struggling with the decision to drag myself into work or take a sick day. 9 y/o said, “go ahead, take the day off.”

9 y/o was making her belly button “sing.” she said, “it’s belly button karaoke.”

the girls are very interested in my sister’s pregnancy and have a basic understanding of how the babies grow. the other day, my  9 y/o asked me about the enchilada attached to the baby. i thought for a moment and realizing what she meant, said, “it’s called a placenta.” she replied, “enchilada, quesadilla, placenta. whatever”

i questioned if something 9 y/o said was really true, and she replied, “i swear on my cupcake.”

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22
Aug 10

livin’ la vida sentada

my mother recently told me that she has planned a trip to egypt and my first question was not “are you going to see the pyramids, the sphinx, or king tut’s tomb?” not “are you traveling by camels and goats, and are you aware just how much they hate americans there?” not “when do you leave & can you read hieroglyphics?” no, my first question was, “but what are the restrooms like there?” i could only imagine my mother squatting over shallowly dug sandy pits in the middle of the desert lacking any tp, much like those seen in slumdog millionaire. and that, my friends,  is where the difference between men & women is most pronounced (besides the penis/vagina thing of course): how peeing & the places we do it in dictate much of a woman’s life.

living La Vida Sentada, the seated life, presents it’s own distinct set of challenges of which men have little idea, interest, or care. for instance, we have to constantly be aware of our liquid intake based upon when the next Emptying Of The Bladders will be (no, thanks. i better pass on that second ice tea.). we must make travel arrangements based on when we can pee next (is there a restroom there or should i go now?). we get dressed based upon the imagined effort it will take to remove said clothes for peeing (i am so not wearing pantyhose!” and remember the bride? do you know how many people it takes to help her pee so she doesn’t yellow that giant white dress?) and there is the always the question of cleanliness (oh no! it’s a gas station. forget it. i’ll wait. i can hold it for another 50 miles” and btw – what is up with those giant key chains they always have for gas stations? and do we really even need to lock up these pits of filth? who are they keeping out? i mean who the hell is sneaking in there that they need security? ). we alter our social life around peeing, “a THREE hour movie? no thanks.” and, “it won 72 tonys but there is NO intermisson? i’ll pass.” in fact, i am sure this is exactly why that genius device, the DVR, was invented and had to have been done so by a woman.

in addition to carrying this enormous burden, we are saddled with being the primary Trainers Of The Pee Release which means most of us are stocking purell like squirrels do acorns. all you hear in the ladies’ room is mothers frantically screaming, “DON’T TOUCH ANYTHING.” and “WAIT UNTIL I PUT PAPER DOWN.” young girls are indoctrinated early on about Layering & taught to master the muscle control required to do The Squat (an advanced move that saves time by not having to put paper down but can be very messy if not executed perfectly). and how in the world are we supposed to train boys to pee standing up when we can’t even do it ourselves? no wonder why men just pee anywhere they please – how can we teach them any differently as young boys? moms of boys must  give up after being sprayed enough times and finally say, “just go pee on that wall instead of my shoes.”

and due to this woeful, seated life, i have more than once, thought about how much easier it might be if i had been armed with the invaluable information of a Pee Pee Guidebook i could consult before ever leaving the house – a line of travel books marketed solely to women written by women about ladies’ rooms across the world. i would hire an army of female travelers to urinate across the globe documenting facilities to create an all encompassing peeing library. it would be broken down into state & country specific volumes with a gratis map tics app that rivals triple A’s so one could choose travel destinations based on places to void the bladder. this encyclopedia of piss would list all the restrooms at main points of interest, tourist attractions, museums, hotels, camp sites, etc. and rate said restrooms  from 1 to 5 toilet paper rolls: 1 being the worst and 5 being the best. ratings would be based on cleanliness, ease of use, location, amount of stalls, which way the door opens (we have all gotten trapped inside more than once when the door opened in), functionality of locks should they even exist, decor, price (yes, i said price: those backwardass europeans charge you to pee & the price has nothing to do with the quality of the place), availability & quality of tp/soap, papertowels/dryer, & family-friendliness.

not only would these books arm chicks with toilette rankings, but they would also include handy tips for acquiring the life skills so important to successful peeing like how to properly feign pregnancy or nausea to skip the line entirely without fear of retribution and make it back for halftime. or how to navigate ancient theaters with hidden stairways that lead to secret restrooms and be able to make it back to your seat within 15 minutes for act 2. which countries to avoid traveling to altogether that have no restrooms of any kind. “you want to go on safari out in the bush? where do i pee? you don’t know? no thanks. i can watch the antelope get mauled by the lion on animal planet. in fact, i’m pretty sure that is why hi-def tv was invented.”

so here is a sneek peek at the  P.P. Patrol Library coming to a kindle near you soon:

Intro to Colllege Bar Restrooms of America 101:

let’s face facts: there has always been an entirely other kind of learning occurring on american college campuses – the learning of how to hold your liquor. sometimes in this endeavor, young co-eds must also learn to hold the pee, not only because of ridiculous drinking games that demand it, but due to the unsanitary conditions of said bars which worsen as on the night wears. in addition to ranking the filth of bathrooms among college campuses by state perhaps even aiding in the college of choice decision, this overpriced text book & class syllabus will cover:

*The Breaking of the Seal: when is it best to break the the proverbial seal? weighing the consequences of ruining the game by giving in to The Urge way before midnight before all the tp is gone or risking peeing on a bar stool which we all know isn’t very sexy.

*Overused & Overflowed: what to do when you find yourself ankle deep in contaminated water (which also includes the sub-topic Bar Shoes).

*Line Cutting Without Injury: negotiating lines without getting beat up so you can  get in there before the way too drunk girl hurls all over the last clean roll of toilet paper.

*Making Doo: how to wipe with a cardboard tube should it become necessary or worse – drip drying!

*Pee Pee Etiquette - avoid being the inconsiderate bitch who tucks, zips, & buckles her belt inside the stall. and for god sakes, this is not the time or place to poop!

and bonus sections:

* Frat House Fun: yes, you are being watched. yes, you will find your name written on the walls along with horrid details about what you look like naked & who saw you that way and why. DO NOT PEE HERE unless you have no issues with future employers finding you on youtube.

* Off the Peeing Path: how to pull those cute little panties aside & pee behind a dumpster when all else fails without getting busted by the campus po po.

* The Dorms’ Dirty Little Secret: what your RA doesn’t want you to know about co-ed bathrooms.

The Road Less Peed

a series of travel companions especially useful for the pregnant, those with potty training children, or just those with pea sized bladders which would cover all rest stops on major highways in each state describing such things as:

*The Last Resort: pit stops that haven’t been updated since route 66 opened in 1926 and still have that filthy rotating towel thing upon which to dry your hands.

* Bagging the Elusive White Whale: where to find the dying breed of restrooms that have that plastic rotating seat cover or any seat covers at all.

* when it’s necessary to pack a gas mask  to survive the toxic bursts of automatic air freshener.

* how to disable the automatic flushing mechanism that scares the crap outta your kids. literally.

* where to find the hidden pit stops which are less traveled, slightly out of the way, but far cleaner.

* what rest stops to avoid completely that double as prostitution service for truckers, drug rings, or contain “mysterious” holes in the stalls.

* what to do when peeing along side of the highway is just unavoidable.

* No Dogs Allowed: the best way to secretly scoop up rover’s calling cards before you jet.

the intro would be entitled “The History of the American Rest Stop”

sample entries will include personal experiences of the writers:

Hawaii: Maui: The Road to Hana: The Seven Sacred Pools at Haleakela National Park: hands down, the most disgusting bathroom i have ever encountered in my life. giant multi-user johnny on the spot bench seat with holes to sess pool below. no sanitary facilities of any kind. you must hold your nose or you will most likley barf from the odor of the mountains of decomposing feces below your ass. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, DO NOT PEE HERE.

-5 rolls

Trains, Planes, & Automobiles: Domestic & Abroad

what girl can  forget the horror, shock, & awe that she felt The First Time….she encountered a mobile restroom? who hasn’t peed all over herself because she doesn’t have “sea legs” while sucking in the pleasant aroma of tuna in The Head of a boat? who doesn’t remember realizing that the hole in the bottom of the train bathroom actually allowed you to pee on the tracks thus explaining the sign demanding you not use the restrooms while the train is in the station. it’s not just the pee destination you need to know about beforehand, but also the restroom that gets you there! important tips would include:

* bacterial parts per 1000 of surfaces in mass transit restrooms.

* what to do when you absolutely have to pee when the “stay seated” light is on.

* sneaking into “first class” facilities.

* how to be sure the “occupado” light is illuminated while your pants are around your ankles.

* what do if you must “go greyhound.”

* the pros and cons of travel potties and the effect they have on our nation’s youth.

Port Authority Bus Station, NYC: squatting will be necessary to avoid excrement covered seat thanks to wino that was in there before you. barf from the strongest odor of urine you have ever smelled in your life on the homeless person living in there thus contributing to the terrible humanity. no paper, no soap. run out as fast as possible vowing never to return to this place or the city that spawned it which smells entirely of warm piss itself  and most fragrant in august after a drought.

-8 rolls.

Peter Pan Busline, USA:  loose 20 pounds before the trip so you can actually fit in the tiny lav*  CAUTION: do not look down into blue pool of human waste – you can never unsee it and the nightmare will haunt you forever. board early to avoid sitting in last 15 rows of bus closest to the lav. also, it is recommended you dehydrate 3 days prior to bus travel to rule out the use of it at all.

* advisable for airplane lavatories as well

1/2 roll

Shoppeeing, Eating, & Entertainment

a comprehensive set of guides for the family, elderly, or bladder challenged that would cover any retail area, dining establishment, & entertainment venue by town & state. also available in a mini version with a handy clip that can attach to the stroller or fit in a purse.

this guide includes:

* the hidden bathrooms in all retail locations “they” don’t want you to know about.

* the last remodel date of the bathroom:  avoiding those restrooms with shag carpet from 1973.

* sneaking into the “employee only” bathroom.

enjoy a master thesis included in this tome called, the family restroom of america- does it really exist & it’s social ramifications.

sample entry:

Nordstrom, Freehold, NJ: uber clean restroom.*  facilities well maintained. plenty of paper. hooks & shelves for belongings. child friendly. stroller friendly. baby changing area with private nursing facilities. soap & paper towels always available.

*not applicable to cafe facility.

5 tp rolls

Renaissance Fair, Anywhere, USA: rows and rows of filthy porta-potties complete with dirty footprints on floor covered in mystery sludge. bring your own tp & clothespin for your nostrils. prepare to wait on line in 102 degree sun & hope you drank enough mead to forget the experience altogether.

-3 rolls

Hotels & Motels of America:

once the road trip guide gets you there, where do you pee? this tome explores many important issue germane to today’s vactioners:

* the differences between 1 & 5 star lodgings’ facilities.

* how to calculate the pee to chlorine ratio based on the star system.

* tp folding & what it means to your family.

* the sanitary strip: its’ actually inversely proportional to the quality of the inn.

sample entries:

Ritz Carlton, Naples, Florida: numerous pristine facilities featuring high end decor & priceless artwork and full floor to ceiling stall partitions. pima cotton 800 thread count hand towels, 6 ply quilted paper, spa quality soap. will ruin all future restrooms for you. forever.

10 luxurious rolls

Motel 6, Bismark, North Dakota: sanitary paper strip applied to seat but do not use a black light to test the soundness of that inspection. cancer causing red heat lamps from 1964 create a certain coziness. 1 ply tp but artfully folded into a triangle. clean enough for a night or a few hours…

2 rolls

Europeein

have you longed to travel abroad but haven’t because of the hygienic horror stories you have heard? and rightly so, because they are true! this series of books will outline the country specific survival skills necessary to pee outside of the US or at the very least, prepare the reader to be less horrified by her first encounter with a parisian bathroom. (i use the term, bathroom, very loosely since there is not much bathing happening in that country at all*).

sample entries:

Italy, The Riveira: a wooden shack with a hole in the floor that has outlines around it for your feet for proper squatting position leaving you to wonder where does the stuff actually go? no paper. no facilities for hand washing. DO NOT POOP here. female child’s use not recommended. there is a fee of  2 euros that is much too high when you convert the euros to USD. i can’t believe anyone even has to pay to piss here.

-2 rolls

Italy, Venice: elusive restroom done up in subway decor complete with turnstiles located at top of winding hill past the virgin mary statue. doesn’t matter which virgin mary since it may be the only restroom on the island as signs lead you there from every single part of the place. pay 1 euro to enter the turnstile for privilege of holding your breath because bathroom attendant’s BO is unbearable to american noses. tp & hand washing available, but no provisions for hand drying. try not to overhear attendant laughing at how much money they make for charging people for a human function. also try not to notice the stench of urine around the entire city from exasperated travelers that gave up looking for the potty & dropped trou when they just couldn’t hold it anymore. not for those who are pregnant, have heart conditions, or are in poor health. bring water & snack for the journey.

1 roll

Paris, France: Jacques on Le Spot in middle of street, with no paper, a major stench undetectable to french nostrils and with a core temperature of 108 degrees inside during summer. requires a complicated amount of coins you will not have and for which not one snot ass vendor will give you change since you never paid attention in 8 years of french and thus still can’t speak that useless language; so you must ask the asshole with the canadian flag on his pack to get for you. he will then think you owe him some & follow you around the city until you shake him at the l’ouvre. as you exit the restroom, be prepared to be hit on the ass with a rolled up newspaper because the filthy old french man you walked by on the bench thinks you’re cute…for an americain. ask yourself why you came here in first place.

-2 rolls

*included with this set of guides would be a free smart phone app called the BOI – the Body Odor Index – it’s like the UV index but far more useful: “the recent water shortage & 14 day heat wave in venice has caused the BOI to reach a 9 out of a possible 10. stay indoors today or superglue your nostrils shut. it’s gonna be a stanky one out there today!”

also available for purchase with the books will be a companion PP Survival Kit which includes:

* ass wipes – they’re not just for kids anymore

* disposable toilet seat covers

* 6 pack of hand sanitizer

* brawny extra thirsty paper towels

* disposable baby changing pads or a disposable baby

* emergency coin holder (for abroad versions)

* face mask

* haz mat suit

* rubber gloves

* directions to nearest decontamination stations

* packed in a handy anti-bacterial travel case in your choice of pink or blue

with these books, i imagine a peeing utopia for women across the globe where we will all be united in our bladder freedom.

pee on sistas!

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13
Jul 10

IV: aftershocks

so, i know i am way overdue for a fabulously funny post, but post-divorce life has been so deliciously full and busy that i just haven’t had the time to write. so, once again, i submit to you, dear readers, a much too short, gratuitous, easy way out, my kids are awesome post. gimme another month or three & the posts should be flowing once again like the wine i drink…

i have been getting the house ready for sale for about 2 months now and the girls are very in tune to the changes i have made for “staging.” one of the things recommended to me was to put a tea kettle on the range which i did. last night, there were 2 pots on the range from dinner & 6 year old said to me: “you put the pots on there too?” apparently i don’t cook all that much.

the girls were wrestling until 9 year old got hurt. when i went to see what the nature of the injury was, she said: “she hurt the apple of my cheek.”

me: “who keeps leaving water bottles around the house?” 9 year old: “not me. i did not leave those half-drInken.”

9 year telling me about her friend at camp the other day: “she got hit by a softball which really isn’t soft at all.”

me to 6 year old: “your counselors must think you are so cute.” 6 year old: “yes. yes they do.”

while pouring apple juice for 9 year old, i finished the remains of one bottle and was about to add more from a new bottle of a different brand. she stopped me and said, “i don’t like my juices mixed.”

while pouring frosted flakes from the bag, 6 year old said with great despair, “all the  good sugar is on the bottom.”

6 year old used the toilet after i had cleaned it with some blue stuff. she came out of the powder room with a very concerned look on her face and said to me, “mommy, something is wrong. my pee pee came out green.”

9 year old had a stomach virus a few weeks ago, this exchange occurred:

9 yr old: “after i regurgitate i am still very gassy. i call them my aftershocks.”

me: “well, it smells awful”

6 year old: “well, yours are worse, mommy.”

9 y/o telling 6 y/o about a camp game she played called “business:”"they teach us how to make an affordable profit.”

me to 6 y/o: “you didn’t brush your teeth this morning.” 6 y/o: “it’s ok – i brushed them yesterday.”

9 y/o:”my advice, if you don’t have the cutest toes, is not to wear flip flops.”

9 y/o: “i am an O pal.” me: “a what?” 9 y/o: “an O pal. it’s my birthstone.”

6 y/o looking at a photo of someone sewing: “what’s that thing on her thumb?” 9 y/o: “it’s a thUmble.”

9 y/o: “is that music in our car or someone else’s?” me: “i want you to just think about that question.” 9 y/o: “oh.”

me to 6 y/o who is watching a movie: “is this the movie or a preview?” 6 y/o: “it’s a featured preview.”

9 y/o to 6 y/o discussing what to wear to camp the next day: “if your pits sweat like mine, i recommend wearing a tank top.”

upon noticing i was watching the new newlywed game hosted by carnie wilson, 9 y/o asked: “are you watching the fat bachelorette?”

the girls were playing an online dress-up game and 6 y/o asked what t-strap shoes were. 9 y/o informed her, ” high heels that are strap-ons.” i nearly spit out my drink.

playing the same game, 9 y/o said her character went to get her eyebrows done at “pluckers.”

upon hearing the alarm & me saying it was time to get up, 9 y/o said with her eyes still closed, “dos minutos, por favor.” that is it – she is cut off from plaza sesamo!

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27
Jun 10

training weiners

so it’s finally come to this: i can no longer stand the sight of myself naked.

i am trying to lose a few pounds by substituting some meals with those powdered protein shakes. i was worried i wouldn’t like the taste, but it turns out they are delicious once you add the vodka.

i have yet to own a car whose side view mirrors i didn’t scrape against the side of the garage. it must be genetic or we are 1/32 asian, because there has never been one car owned by a woman in my family that does not have white paint marks along the sides. when a new car pulls into the garage for the first time, it’s never a question of if this one will get scraped against the side, but when. this is the core reason of why we lease our cars instead of buy – we need a fresh one after 3 years. did you know those mirrors contain over 76 parts & cost a fortune to repair? and if the mirror gets fully lopped off  – it  will set you back about 600 clams to replace which means you will probably just decide to give up vision on that side completely. of all the brilliant technological advancements in car features, i don’t understand why they can’t put a sensor on the damn mirrors that makes them automatically fold in when you get too close to something. i would gladly pay for it as an upgrade. “ma’am would you like to add the no-depth perception option?” “you had me at no-depth.”

you know that beer commercial where they advertise “drinkability?” that is ridiculous, all liquids by definition are drinkable. now if you tell me you can make a steak drinkable, then i just may be impressed.

i wish i had been born a WASP – it’s my fantasy to be in a family that solves all of its problems by drinking instead of talking.

those awful parents on reality shows have a camera on them at all times and that is the best they can do? what the hell are they like when no one is watching? if i had a camera on me all the time, i would be the best mommy ever.

cutting my finger nails too short makes picking my nose extremely difficult. cutting my toenails too short makes me feel oddly exposed.

the best thing to ever happen to my marriage was the divorce.

more random items found while packing: my original dymo label maker from when i was 10, ashes of my 2 dead cats,  & band aids from my kids’ immunizations (ewwww).

i absolutely love a pack of new white socks. so bright & full of promise. “i am definitely going to keep these white this time. i will bleach them with every washing.” sure.

listen up hong kong phooey, unless you’re an israeli soldier training in krav maga for actual combat, suburban white dudes doing “martial arts,” are a.) wimps who got beaten up as kids and still haven’t gotten over it or  b.) just plain tools. since we don’t live in feudal japan, bowing into your sensei in the produce section is just plain queer & horrifyingly embarrassing to those with you, especially your children. and vegas odds say you will still get your black belt wrapped around your neck while kung fu fighting in an actual street fight. but by all means, try it out & prove me wrong.

so i guess you know the new motorolla backflip commercial really resonates with me: “this just in: a local bachelor age 41 just enrolled in ka-ra-tay.”

i realized i had not been drinking enough water lately – so i started using it as my only mixer.

i plan my showers around not showering: i showered this afternoon, so i wouldn’t have to get up early to shower for work tomorrow. also, i would rather be clean for dinner tonight, than for work tomorrow. see how that works? it’s very calculated – being filthy actually still requires a lot of planning.

i don’t see life through rose colored glasses – they’re pinot noir colored.

out with some friends the other night, i simultaneously burped & farted. my pal said, “all you needed was a snort for the trifecta.” it’s so good to have new goals.

if it seems like i don’t care – you’re right.

at work the other day i was making sure a new can of paint matched the old paint a customer brought in; but the new wet sample had to be dry to be sure it was a perfect match. while i stood over it with the hair dryer, it occurred to me that i was literally watching paint dry.

i heard there is this new trend for women in the workplace called, “makeup free monday.” i am following a trend too, it’s called, “no fucking way anyday.”

so i am seeing a new therapist now. you may know him: Dr. Schmirnoff.

after the 19 total years of the dating, the bad marriage, & the inevitable divorce, i just don’t wanna talk anymore. it’s like the seinfeld episode where jerry asks elaine if she wants to go the diner, and she replies, “i’ll go if i don’t have to talk.”  i may consider marriage again if i don’t have to talk.

i think sleeping with guys who have tiny dicks is okay – but only in your 20′s – you know, as starter penises. training weiners so to speak.

i just learned that carbohydrate addiction can lead to alcoholism which means i am doubly fucked – i like to overindulge in carbs while drinking too much.

i am a pain in the ass, but big boobs make up for a multitude of sins…

women, we must band together to stop LDP: Long Distance Penis. you do not need to travel for dick. you have the vagina: the penis will come to you.

an unanticipated benefit of divorce: you can tell your ex-monster in law that you always thought she was a cunt.

you know the show snapped on the oxygen channel about women who kill their husbands? emmy material in my opinion.

while i am on the subject of women who kill their men and the vicarious thrill these stories provide- i wonder how many were pmsing at that moment when they made that final decision. or was it just after the 400th time she had her pants around her ankles and saw that he left an empty toilet paper roll?

my water tasted odd and then i realized why – no vodka in it.

no wonder why my marriage failed: he was a Type Asshole personality and i was a Type Bitch.

guys want to know why they always have to be the ones to buy the drinks. the answer is simple: those who wear the pants you want to get into get their drinks for free. guys, you are still coming out ahead – literally.

i saw a dude wearing a t-shirt that was from a seafood restaurant that said: Love, Peace & Crabs.  (or was it a cathouse?)  i first read it as Love, Peace & CARBS. it’s my new motto.

so in the paint department, paint rollers are categorized by size and nap. for instance, 9 inch semi-rough, 7 inch semi smooth, 4 inch ultra smooth. do i have to explain why i have a hard time recommending rollers to anybody with a straight face?

the asshat had a tantrum the other morning & removed the access cards from all of the dvrs. my first thought was, i can just watch tv on this new-fangled thing the kids call the internet and that is exactly what i did. but after the girls got home from school, fear set in – what the hell was i going to do without the tv? actually play with my kids? pay attention to them for more than 15 minutes? play, oh the horror of it, games? or worse - barbies? in discussing this latest jackassery with my pal, she said, “he removed the dvr cards? that is just child abuse. he can’t withhold icarly.”

i have realized that you don’t need to be the biggest fish in the pond. you just need to be the smartest fish. plus knowing the right sharks doesn’t hurt.

some people buy their vodka by brand name. some people buy their wine by the country of origin or region. i just look for the highest alcohol content in the cheapest bottle & call it a day.

the way i see it, grapes have 2 options in life: they can be like the caterpillar in the chrysalis & emerge a beautiful new bottle of wine, or they can just stick with the the bunch until the life gets sucked out of them and they become raisins trapped in a tiny box. not that different from women, really.

new bumper sticker: life is too short to date douchebags.

every time i think i want to get back into the dating pool, i dip a toe in and realize it’s not properly chlorinated. kind of like white trash water parks, but dirtier.

so the home stager left a full bottle of wine here as a prop. that lasted 12 hours. i told her to add it o my bill…she has no idea who she is dealing with.

if age is really just a number, then i pick pi.

can anyone explain the scarf over the tank top look  in the summer? there is no way my brain can make this work.

stop asking us to cut & paste your e-chain letter messages about sick children, save an owl day, & missing puppies in our facebook status, instead, put this in your status: support an aspiring brilliant writer who is putting her life back together. subscribe to singlewithvodka.com. it’s a much better cause.  and don’t forget to mention the fan page... (it’s followed mostly by russian mail order brides that have misinterpreted the meaning of single with vodka entirely).

xoxox

yours in vodka,

the gggb

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03
Jun 10

trainer boobs: part 3

9 year old: “mommy, when you die can i have those earrings great grandma gave you?” me: “umm, sure.” 6 year old: “can i have your sesame street t-shirts, then?”

9 year old told me a story about being with a friend who put some candy in her pocket at a store without paying for it and she said the girl “knew better.” she then continued to tell me that she was displeased with being in that situation and proclaimed, “she can have fun with me, but legally.”

9 year got new glasses today. she put them on & then immediately belted out, “i can see clearly now…”

in the process of packing up the house, the girls discovered several bags of unopened halloween candy i had stashed away for next year (yeah – that’s right, i have no issue handing out stale candy). 9 year old  said with the heartbreaking look of betrayal only a child can portray, “how could you have kept this a secret?”

it occurs to me that while i write about them, i keep telling the girls to leave me alone so i can write about them.

9 year old after arguing with grandmother about heating up leftover pizza: “i do like this pizza warm.” grandmother: “i know. you’re just used to eating everything cold.” me: “ouch.”

my sister is pregnant with twins about which the girls are very excited. there has been much speculation between them as to if it will be 2 girls, 2 boys, or a “set.” should it be “one of each,” 9 year said, “i call the girl.”

me: “after you finish your homework, please clean up your room.” 6 year old: “i can’t – i have other plans for after my homework is done.”

6 year old: “my friend said that her bus driver gives them ice pops in the summer & hot chocolate in the winter. ” me: “i’m not sure the bus driver would do that since so many kids have food allergies.” 9 year old: “no, they can’t. eating is strictly prohibited on the bus. it says so.”

6 year old was trying to wiggle her most recent loose tooth out and i said,  “i am not sure the tooth fairy is prepared for a tooth to fall out tonight.” then 9 year old said: “well. maybe she can give her something homemade – with a paperclip.”

6 year old after overhearing her father on the phone with a client: “daddy, why do you need so many chairs?” father: “what do you mean?” 6 year old: “you said on the phone you needed 2000 chairs.” father (a stockbroker): “that’s shares.”

i painted my nails pink the other night of which my 9 year old took notice and remarked, “it’s been years since i saw anything but a french on your nails.”

9 year old announced, “i am only using this shirt for pajamas from now on. it makes me look like i have boobs.” me: “i thought you wanted boobs -you are completely obsessed with getting them.” 9 y/o: “i am but i want them at the regular age. this shirt makes me looks like i have trainer boobs.”

9 y/o discussing her little crush: “we are meant for each other: we both hate ketchup, we both like honey mustard, we both hate crusts, and we both lie for no reason.”

9 y/o noticing the compact florescent bulbs in the outdoor fixtures: “oh, you used those curly-q light bulbs. now people will know you are green-system.”

grandmother to 6 y/o: “you’re really good at art. you should take lessons. ” 6 y/o “if i’m so good why do i need lessons?”

9 y/o: “something came to my attention.” me: “what’s that.” 9 y/o: “my belly button is all crusty.”

me to 9 y/o: “i can’t believe you’re going to be a fifth grader.” 9 y/o “yeah and then i’ll be middle school. i’ll be shaving in a few years.”

9 y/o: “photo shoot” with grandma’s cat: “now, give me naughty kitty.”

me on phone with 9 y/o: “is the plumber still there?” 9 y/o: ” yes, and i saw his crack.”

9 y/o: “he had a quack in his voice” me: “what?????” 9 y/o: “you know the saying ‘a frog in your throat?’ well, he had a quack.”

our californian cousins came to visit us during memorial day weekend. between the 3 of us we have 5 girls ranging from 15 months to almost 10 years old. hilarity and much squealing ensued:

our cousins got into town late, so we went to their hotel room to visit with them a bit before bedtime. the girls were all so excited to see each other that they got slightly rambunctious. so, i said we all needed to be quiet because people might be sleeping in the other rooms and my 9 year old backed me up by saying, “yeah, you’ll wake the elderly.”

after a particularly messy day with her cousins that involved barefoot activities, 9 year old proclaimed she needed a shower to wash her “blackened feet.” 6 year old asked if she could go in the shower with her and i said it was up to her sister, to which 9 year replied, “sure. God Bless her if she wants to go in with me.”

9 year old needed to take the toothbrush her grandmother keeps at her house for a spontaneous overnight at the hotel with her cousins and when her grandmother said it was no problem, she then said to grandma, “will you be a dear and get it for me?”

my cousin took his daughter & my 9 year old into The Big Apple one of the days to do all sorts of fun things. one of the stops was Dylan’s Candy Bar where my cuz asked her if they should bring back a tequilla lollipop for me as a joke. without skipping a beat she replied, “my mommy likes vodka.”

after dinner with the cousins one night at my mother’s house, we ignored our kids, while three of the girls played in my mother’s large walk in closet and we could hear that they were getting quite rowdy. cuz & i glanced over our wine glasses at my mother to see if we should intervene and she just said, “not my kids.” and we both replied, “not my closet.”

after a day filled with sugar, grandma brought out the cupcakes. 9 year old noticing my displeasure said, “grandma makes trouble.”

at great adventure we all went to the restroom but somehow became separated from my mom and sister and they ended up in different parts of the park after the pit stop. my group wondered how this was so & concluded my mom & sis must have exited the rest rooms a different way than we did, to which 9 year old said, “well, with them, it’s the blind leading the blind.”

my cuz needed to entertain his daughter one day when my girls were with their dad & i was at work. after brainstorming several activities, he chose a local water park i had suggested. i had warned him that the element of people that frequented that particular establishment were a bit “white trashy” and i was sure the carnies, themselves, must go there on vacation. when he came back & i asked him what he thought, he told me, “well, it wasn’t blue collar, it was orange jumpsuit.”

while eating dinner at the park my sister felt something cold on her arm. apparently,  our adorable 3 year cousin decided to rest her cheesestick upon it, to which our aunt, their nana, said, “honey, please don’t put your food on people.”

and adults say funny things too:

i texted my pal that she should google ShaToBu.com – it’s a calorie burning undergarment for chicks. she texted me back: “is that that whacky japanese animation porn? i had roomate who watched it and he was a pig.” i literally LOLed when i read that!

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03
Jun 10

caffeine, booze, & undereye concealer!

the divorce is the first thing my husband and i have agreed upon in the 14 years since we got married.

i’m thinking about hosting a dinner party – my wine rack is empty.

people tell me i look a lot younger than i am – i think vodka may have preservative qualities.

it really troubles me how poorly my family communicates; but i’m not going to say anything…

not only are some days a complete waste of makeup, but they are also a complete waste of contacts.

i am so happy i had 2 girls – i can’t wait until we are all on the rag at the same time.

my kids are seeing a therapist because i prefer to pay someone to listen them bitch about me so i don’t have to.

in these past 3 months, i have been caught in the middle of more than one marital spat over paint colors. so, one day i cheerfully told a particularly angry couple that i get $9.80 per hour to mix paint, but i charge $325 for mediation.

if i don’t call back, don’t take it personally -it’s only because i don’t want to.

not only am i my own worst enemy – but i am my own worst pusher.

i am so organized, my items for curbside bulk collection were all sorted and labeled. i take pride in having the neatest trash in my neighborhood.

self involvement is extremely time consuming.

it’s not really the possibility of catching an std that worries me about sleeping with strangers, it’s more the being found in a hotel room dead and  chopped up into a million tiny pieces. i can just imagine that being explained to the kids: “well, girls, you see, mommy was a bit of a slut…”

when my kids tell me long stories i totally zone out. they never have a point anyway.

how much of a leap is it to make vodka from the decomposing potatoes in my pantry that i keep buying & forgetting i have? it seems such a waste to  throw them out. while we are at it,  what can you make out of onions?

for most women, me included, the supermarket is a major social event. it would really be helpful if they would install chatting & non-chatting aisles.

if you have girls, then motherhood is exactly like school, except the mean girls live with you.

Continue reading →

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23
May 10

part 2: noodle straps

9 year old on her vitamin: “it tastes like a dog’s throw-up that a monkey swallowed and then pooped.”

me to 6 yr old: “hey, what’s that on your tush?”

6 yr old, “nothing. you just want to squeeze it for fun.”

me to girls while looking at a flyer: “hey we should go see this show.”

6 yr old: “i am already going to see it with daddy.”

9 yr old: “yeah, and i don’t want to see it. it’s for ages to 5-8 and i am almost a tween. u know, a tweenager? that’s what they call it these days.”

joke written by 9 year old. she has warned me not to “plagiarize,” therefore it is reprinted here with her permission:

what did the client say about the hairdresser?

she is nice and easy-combing.

9 year old: “she said that i could babysit when she has a baby, but that won’t be for awhile because he hasn’t popped the question yet.”

9 year old: “what is the weather supposed to be tomorrow?” me: “i’m not sure. we need to check when we get home.” 6 year old: ” it will either be warm or cold.”

me to 9 year old: “are you sure you want to sleep with such a warm blanket?” 9 year old: “yes. i get cold even though my personality is warm.”

grandmother to 6 year old,” ok. let’s turn the light off for bed time.” 6 year old: “no, leave it on.” grandmother: “how are you going to get to sleep with such a bright light on?” 6 year old: “i will turn it off when i fall asleep.”

upon learning a couple is going to have a baby who is not currently married, 9 year old asks,” isn’t that illegal?”

9 year old: “mommy, take that backpack off the counter. this is where we eat and we are going to get germs in our food and get sick. we will get what they call the H1N1 Influenza they have been telling us about in school.”

one morning, i accidentally turned off my alarm instead of hitting snooze and woke the girls up for school a wee bit late. since we were rushed, 9 year old sprung into action to help me get both girls ready. when i got downstairs, she was busy making lunch for her sister and said to me, “you had to have another one?”

scene: double play date at my house

6 year old and her pal decided to paint their nails without asking me. i wasn’t pleased and muttered to myself that they “dragged all the nail polish downstairs to the basement”  within ear shot of 9 year old & her pal. the friend misunderstood & asked incredulously, “she drank all the nail polish?” to which i replied, “no dragged it.” and 9 year old added, “yeah, she’s 6, not mentally retarded.”

9 year old consoling 6 year old: “it’s just a fly. nothing to be scared of. it’s only 3 letters.”

how the tooth fairy got hustled

9 year old: “make sure you tell the tooth fairy about my tooth, so she leaves me a gift.”

me: “didn’t you tell me that you don’t believe in the tooth fairy anymore?”

9 year old: “no, i do.”

me: “okay then.”

next morning after collecting her loot:

9 year old “i know you’re the tooth fairy.”

me: “but last night you told me you believed in the tooth fairy.”

9 year old: ” i know. i just said that to get the money.”

me: “oh, i see.”

9 year old adding insult to injury: “also, it’s not that i don’t appreciate the “fairy dust” and all, but could she use a little less? it’s all over my bed & i have to change my sheets now.”

9 year old walking past plum tree in front yard: “i can smell the plummy goodness.”

6 year old to 9 year old: “you can teach me spanish.” 9 year old: “let’s just leave that to dora.” [the explorer]

6 year old: “this week is ‘poem in your pocket’ week. i have to rememberize a poem.”

6 year old: “there are different parts of your tongue for tasting different things. this part here is for butter.”

after observing meal laid out upon the table, 9 year old to grandmother: “you really know how to put together a dinner.”

9 year old discussing a friend: “she misses a lot of school. she is going to end up in the street with credit card debt and invalid health insurance.”

note in my lunch from 9 year old on a morning i had an upset stomach before leaving for work: “dear mom, i love you. stick it out.”

6 year old singing lyrics that say come closer: “get cole slaw”

grandmother to 9 year old: “3 lion cubs were born in a zoo the other day.” 9 year old, “who’s the lucky couple?”

9 year old: “hello, loser.”

6 year old: “hello, idiot.”

9 year old. “touche.”

9 year old: “she [6 year old] can sleep in my room in her sleeping bag.”

me: “well, i really don’t want her to sleep on the floor.”

9 year old: “no, in the sleeping bag in my bed. it contains her – she kicks.”

while cat-sitting my mother’s kitty, 6 year old was beckoning the cat to follow her up the stairs which prompted 9 year old to admonish, “he’s a cat, not a seeing eye dog.”

9 year old & i had the pleasure of watching a puppet show performed by 6 year old in which one of the characters became extremely wild and had to be “disciplined” by 6 year old. 9 year old turned to me and said, “you will have to excuse him [the puppet], he’s on medication.”

6 year old: “mommy, i can’t wear this shirt to school tomorrow. it has noodle straps” me:”ok, but i think you mean spaghetti straps.”

9 year old: “why would a cleaning product be called bleck?” me (barely containing my laughter):”that’s bleach.”

among other items i had put out for bulk collection week were 2 female dress forms – one black and one white. upon discovering that scavengers had taken the white one, but not the black one, 9 year old exclaimed, “how racist!.”

quote from 6 year old’s mother’s day project: “my mom is: as pretty as a flower and a unicorn.” that is the highest compliment i have ever received.

9 year old: “when i am an adult, i am going to have a purse & shoes to match every outfit.” me: “well, my work here is done.”


make mine extra dirty, please.

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14
May 10

the circle of bullshit

i asked verizon if they have an “unlimited bitching plan.” they do, but it gets routed through india, and i only bitch domestically because, even though it’s cheaper, i can’t stand the offshore delay.

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

i immediately dislike men who give women the fish handshake. don’t be an asshole & break my hand, but give me a real handshake & show me some R-E-S-P-E-C-T, dammit.

i have found a cure for the common cold: take 2 vodkas & sleep late in the morning.

what is it about the sound of children snoring that is so delightful? oh yah, it means they are finally sleeping.

how many times is it acceptable to wear a bra before washing it? do they really get dirty?

90% of the time i don’t wear undies to work because when i bend down they stick out of these damn low waist-ed jeans. now, i show so much crack, i am in danger of being transferred to the plumbing department.

i’m not bitter – just sweet n’ sour.

i haven’t gained weight -  i’m bloated.

a quick perusal of my dvr menu will reveal that i watch far more cartoons than shows with real people.

there is a saying: your toad, is a prince to another. so, maybe if you leave him in a pond in the middle of a forest, some stupid princess will take him home with her and then you can ride off into the sunset…alone.

ladies, please wax. don’t bleach. it’s still a mustache even if it’s blond.

i am instituting a tampon exchange program called Code Red. here is how it works: any woman can walk up to any other woman anywhere and just say “Code Red” which is universal for “i need a tampon, stat!” it’s like the take a penny, leave a penny dish but it’s need a tampon, give a tampon. imagine the implications for facilitating peace and clean pants globally.

i am tired of hearing people from other countries & states proclaim that everything where they are from is better. really? is it? because here’s a newsflash: we didn’t invite you. see if they will take you & the rest of the assholes back.

my children make unreasonable demands and threats and throw fits when they don’t get what they want, but i told them i don’t negotiate with terrorists.

i know a man who wears a bad toupee with a baseball cap over it every day. i just can not wrap my head around it. is the toupee receding? doesn’t his head sweat doubly? that is a vanity rivaled only by anal bleaching, imo.

cats: the chosen pet of co-dependents – you love them because they hate you.

i am considering having only one eyebrow tattooed raised because i just can’t  master the muscle control to do that on my own.

i think a manic episode here and there can be very productive.

a friend remarked that when people say they have to quit drinking for awhile, she finds it worrisome. i told her that’s i why i have never said i would quit.

people frequently tell me i look like patricia heaton. i am never sure if it’s a compliment or an insult.

an oft overlooked bennie of divorce is the fact that you no longer have to pretend to like your in-laws.

jesus turned water into wine but i can turn a bad husband or a crying child into a vodka tonic.

once i stayed over my mother’s house and came down with a severe case of the runs and had no choice but to violate federal law and use chlorox cleanups in a manner inconsistent with their labeling…

parenting is not a democracy, it’s a monarchy; and i am the queen.

when people of color come into the store, i give them extremely exceptional customer service – it’s a weird reverse racism, but i want them to walk away thinking, “white people aren’t so bad, after all.”

so far the divorce is the the biggest fight we have ever had during the marriage..

all of the experiences in my life have led me to be the person i am today: a huge bitch.

if wine is the nectar of the gods, then vodka is the juice of the mortals.

quitting the gym has actually unexpectedly relieved me of a lot of guilt: the guilt of not going was far worse than the guilt of not working out at all.

the average marriage lasts 7 yrs. the average jail term is 5; but, you can get out of jail early for good behavior.

when people say i am a bitch, i am flattered. it means i am doing a great  job of pissing off the right people.

youth may be wasted on the young , but middle age ain’t no prize. and since i just saw a man wearing a “senior olympics” t-shirt, i am now even more terrified of old age, although it does involve some sweet discounts.

i hate hitting bottom – the bottom of the bottle.

so, i considered having my teeth professionally bleached until the hygienist told me i would have to avoid coffee & red wine afterward. well, that was a very short consultation.

having kids means never you will never have to be alone again- in the bathroom.

hey! the 1980′s called and kit wants his car alarm back.  the rest of us couldn’t give a rat’s ass if its beeping.

i did that no carb diet – until lunch. now, i just follow this food pyramid:

so my daughter wanted to know what the “c-word” is. i considered telling her that it’s her father’s pet name for me since the divorce.

dr. gggb says: one nostril continually running is far more annoying than both being stuffed up.

having a litter box in your home is like having a toilet you never flush.

it has been said that if we all sat around in a circle and put our bullshit in the middle, everyone would keep their own crap. this may be true, but i would still like the opportunity for a bullshit swap meet.

grape juice is really just wine with training wheels.

substitutes i have used for milk in my morning coffee when the milk in my fridge has curdled: vanilla yogurt, powdered milk, yo baby yogurt drink, hot chocolate mix, powdered milk from 1974, whip cream, mini marshmallows, cool whip, vanilla ice cream, sour cream with sugar, powdered sugar, carnation instant breakfast, and anything powdery or white that when mixed with water resembles milk. it would behoove me to learn to drink it black – i hear you never go back after that anyway…

i never realized the true depths of my need for validation & approval until i started a fb fan page. 100th fan gets a pony…

make mine extra dirty, please.

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