Posts Tagged: barbie

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

RVS

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

after the following conversation occurred in my bedroom:

“i’m going home to sleep.”

“well, of course you are.”

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

“do i have to?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1. floss

2. make my bed

3. balance my checkbook

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

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

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

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

making new friends at work: over it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

text exchange with my gf loreen:

me: s’up beyatch?

loreen: same shit. what are you up to?

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

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

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

loreen: now that was funny.

me: thank you, good night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

oh bare minerals, you had me at sleep.

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

new bumper sticker: wanna consumate?

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

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

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

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

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

so if you dig this blog, like it on facebook too!










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rugrats are hi-lar-i-ous — No Comments
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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one liners- hey it's easy — 3 Comments
3
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.

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