contacts « single with vodka

Posts Tagged: contacts

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.

rants — 1 Comment
8
Apr 10

spring cleaning

i don’t know what it is about being on the verge of a season change that inspires me to clean. just as winter is begrudgingly winding down and giving way to the coming of warmer climes, i have the strongest urge to bust out the pink rubber gloves. so, of course, it follows that i have a Spring Cleaning Procedure that includes, but is not limited to, major household restoration, closet purging, clothes swapping, cobweb scouring, family haircutting, colon cleansing, officially changing the sheets from flannel to cotton, and intense personal grooming. i do all this by employing a completely anal retentive organizational strategy that verges on pathological which covers every nook and cranny of my life – hell i even cleared out the voice mail box on my cell and y’all know how much i hate to do that.

after scrubbing my house all sparkly clean from top to bottom with earth un-friendly cleaning products, and purging the house of enough stuff to fill 17 contractor size trash bags which will sit in landfills for the next millennium, it is time for the official Changing Of The Closets (if you are lucky enough to have several closets all to yourself. in my case it is the Changing Of The Giant Tupperware Containers. or for those of you that watch late night infomercials, The Changing Of The Space Bags. none of this to be confused with The Changing Of The Guard). and it absolutely never fails that every year i suffer from premature closetation. this is a yearly condition in which i become convinced that the unseasonably warm weather (98 degrees for 3 days in march) is here to stay and i eject the winter clothes from my closet, put all the coats into long term storage and take out the flip flops in time for the last record breaking noreaster of the season (i guess i am just a hopelessly thermometer half full person). after i dump every single last item out of my closet and clean the shelves, i force myself to survey the damage i have done to my summer body by hibernating and drinking vodka (just to keep warm) for 4 months. yes, it’s time to face The Winter Blubber for The Trying On Of The Summer Clothes. i look at all those cute little dresses and capris tucked neatly away in the dusty containers and can’t imagine those tiny things fit a mere 12 months ago. there is also the category of clothes called “I Can’t Believe I Wore That Last Year” in which i gasp in horror at some seriously hideous pieces of clothing that i thought were So Cool At The Time. soon, disgust ensues, and i just start getting rid of everything without prejudice. this, of course, has the hidden benefit of making more room in my closet for new stuff which means it’s time to go spring shopping (because lord knows i am completely seasonally unprepared since i really can’t deal with the summer clothes when they show up in nordstrom in the dead of winter). but worst of all is the knowledge that my Sworn Nemesis, Bikini Season, is not far behind, and, i, nor any other self respecting woman who has not honored her personal commitment to start working out in january to avoid the terror of this very situation, is not even looking at those swim suits until forced. we will just order new ones and shove the other ones under the bed til next year (yeah, i said order -i am not facing that fear of actually trying them on at the store. puh-leeze). The Official Wardrobe Change also encompasses two of my all time favorite wardrobing activities- the Switching of the Shoes and Cute Little Jackets Round Up.

like a squirrel hoarding nuts, i store up fabulous warm weather shoes all winter – and there is nothing like a fresh pedi to show ‘em all off. now, i personally get pedified all year round, but you know spring has truly arrived here when you show up to your favorite foot palace one day where there is nary a wait all winter and every pedi chair in the joint has a fat ass in it already in the process of obtaining perfectly manicured hooves. i can barely wait my turn because i am salivating to get back home and shed the protective footwear boxes to unsheath those new killer sandals, wedges, flip flops, & “going out shoes.” nothing makes a girl feel sexier than perfectly painted piggies and a pair of brand new open toed f-me pumps (are we not all suckers for a guy who tells us how gotdang fabulous our shoes are?). next are my Cute Little Jackets – they come out to play for a very small window of time: that nanosecond when it’s cool enough to need a light jacket but too warm for a real coat. i buy these darlings obsessively all fall & winter imagining all the adorable get-ups i will be seen in come spring and then only actually wear 10 per cent of them if i am lucky before the weather gets too warm (i am also lucky if i can even button them after the winter. because i bought them months earlier while saying, “it will def fit by spring since i will have lost this last 5 lbs by then.” okay, fine…10). and those of us with children get to do all of this closetation for our kids too, but it is not nearly as fun as we learn that all those clothes we saved for Next Summer now fit nobody because the tots, unlike the grass, grew like crazy all winter. then we have to go out and spend a ton of money on new clothes for them anyway. totally not as cool as spending money on new spring shoes and purses – but hey, it’s still shopping. and shopping is always good.

and i clean up not only my home this time of year, but the loose ends in my life too – case in point: emancipating the bf. what seemed like a great comfort during the lazy hibernation of winter, suddenly seemed suffocating on the cusp of spring. it was time to shed that heavy winter coat and trade it in for the feeling of freedom that only the warm weather can bring (and truth finally be told, i just couldn’t be bothered to fake one more orgasm. it was becoming entirely too exhausting). it sure ain’t easy to clean out the cobwebs of your life, but it has to be done every so often. i once had a friend who called it “weeding her garden” (which i thought was a great analogy until i became one of those so called weeds). i too used to cull my address book (back when we had such things during the flinstonian era of my youth before pen & paper gave way to email & blackberries) and remove the entries of people to whom i no longer spoke. now i go through my cell phone, email, and facebook page to update (nice way of saying delete) my contacts- those people formerly known as friends (used to be you just stopped speaking to someone when you broke up and then screened their calls; now you “defriend” them on facebook). and i do it not to make a statement to the person. it’s just part of my spring cleaning. because along with the peace i find by cleaning off the months of dirt and grime from my floors and purging unused physical possessions from the junk drawers, i also find well being by permitting myself to let go of relationships that i no longer need to hold on to.

so, yes, i feel deliciously accomplished: my house & my psyche (and my colon) are totally clean and ready for spring and it’s myriad of possibilities.

got my shoes already picked out…

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