Posts Tagged: facebook


9
Nov 11

tweet tweet

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

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

 

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

I’m going to put off putting off things until tomorrow.
My phone randomly switches my contacts’ profile pix. It a major mind f*ck f to see the pic of the last dude I boinked next to my mom’s number.

Nothing says, “I’m single,” like simultaneously purchasing a handle of vodka and a 32 oz jar of minced garlic.
If I was meant to scrub my own toilet, there wouldn’t be illegal immigration.
I never burn a bridge. I blow them the f*ck up.
Dear Teachers: I went to school already. So F off w the home projects.
No, I don’t want to take a customer satisfaction survey. Let’s stick with the premise that you suck.
Oh hot men at the gym during the day, do any of you have jobs?
Starbucks is to caffeine as Phillip Morris is to nicotine.
Good night sweet vodka.
I’m trying to f*ck age appropriately, but the best I can do is a threesome with two 20 year olds.
Ok. Just one more…
It is just wrong to have wrinkles and zits simultaneously. I need to speak to customer service about this.
Grossly overestimated the amount of candy I needed. Sucks to be my thighs and next years trick or treaters.
7pm. Let the wineing begin.
I’m not divorced so much as pre-owned.
If everyone is going to register for stuff now, I’m going to register at the liquor store.
The weekend is officially over when the vodka bottle is empty.
My cat is humping my arm. I wish I minded.
I will always love her, but I will never accept my daughter’s alt lifestyle of being a slob.
Yes I saw you called. I don’t want to talk to you…or listen to your voicemail.
Lazy Sunday. As if that’s different from any other day.
Procrastination. It’s what’s for dinner.
My 8 y/o is defacing images of Beiber. Parenting: I’m doin’ it double right.
Got my 8 & 11 y/o hooked on The Office. Parenting: I’m doin’ it right.
Last night was very emotional: I cried over spilled vodka.
You lost me at “money isn’t important.”
we pinky swore we’d be Best Facebook Friends Forever. BFBF.
What exactly is the maximum dose of advil a human can consume before liver damage is imminent?
Finally. An evening worth waxing my lip for.
Who the fuck is driving me home?
I don’t look quite as fab in work light as I thought I did in home light…
I found a dentist that doesn’t floss. I knew it.
Just cleaned out the fridge. And by cleaned I mean ate everything in it.
my costume: the creepy lady who sits on her driveway in a lawn chair and hands out candy while drinking vodka
one day my prince will come…but he will have already have been someone else’s asshole.
When did it become ok to leave pee all over the seat? Whores.
I’m going to go Occupy Nordstrom.

No thanx. I don’t want to be your Uptown Girl.
once upon a time..i gave a shit.
Reunited and it feels so good: me and my nordstrom card.
Lovely to meet you, Mr. Bad Breath. Let me introduce you to Ms. Mentos. I will be over there- far, far over there.
Wearing workout clothes does not make you thin.

yes, your car matters. i don’t ride shotty in a hyundai.
Your booty is officially on my do not call list.
it’s 12:15am. calling all booties.
She said she wanted to lose 10 lbs and I was thinking, “that’s all?”
the weekend starts now – put kahlua in your coffee, vodka in your thermos, and a pair of clean underwear in your purse.
consider your bootay called.
I’m giving it 9 more years and then it’ s crazy cat lady all the way.
My favorite chaser? Ibuprofin.
There is just enough vodka to make this ok.
Vodka: Nature’ s laxative.
The first female leader of the Cherokee Nation is named Wilma Mankiller.
i’m bored. times to overbid on some useless shit on ebay.
It’s Yom Vodka. Atone bitches.
Somteimes a shower is just a shower.
I hate warm seats from strange assess.
I am the Penny of my workplace.
I can’t believe I wasted a pair of clean underwear on this guy.
And so I start another week. My spirits high. My vodka bottle full.

L’ Shanah Vodka.
I begged my trainer to take me back. He did not. My cellulite’s ego is hurt.
It would be easier to meet men at the gym if the juice bar had vodka smoothies.
First fight meets first rag. Concidence? I think not.

don’t text and drink: unlike a side view mirror, you can not fix it.
Can a texter and a nontexter ever make it work?
Dear 40: you can stay, but your friend Back Fat has to go

The amount of calories consumed is directly proportional to the amount of clothing worn.
What not ask on a first date: “so, are those real?
Dont go on the date if he’s not worth shaving for…
gf: “Stop looking around like that, it looks like ur on the prowl.” Me: “But I am.”
I just received the supreme compliment: rotlflmfao
The more men I date, the less I want to date men. I would have made a great lesbian.
it’s GNO tonight. alert the hos.
just had 2 years of tartar scraped off. i really need 2 start flossing.
if the simpsons have been on 4 a record breaking 20 years, y r the same episode always repeated?
15 voice mails: a personal best for un-retrieved messages. i can do better.!
is it me or does alpaca owning seem suspciousuly reminiscent of cult membership?
sick 6 yr old at home = refresher course of torturous disney shows. send help

.let me know when the caffeine patch has been invented.
i can’t tell if ex is brown-nosing or flirting with the math tutor (who’s a DUDE), but in either case i am actually embarrassed for him.
i admit it: i bought the shake weight. it’s fitting that the “6 minute workout” music sounds like a bad porn soundtrack…
9:45 am: begin 4 day master cleanse diet. 12:38 pm: end 4 day master cleanse diet. 12:55pm: lunch.

short list of stains on my carpet: ketchup, chicken soup, applesauce, barf, nail polish, ink, hand cream, yogurt, glue, gatorade, & coffee.
so wawa’s coffetopia featured flavor this month is brazilian. now you can have your coffee just like your bikini line…
i just tried to fast forward my dvr with my cell phone. technology much?
if women designed supermarkets, there would be conversation nooks in the aisles.
i have a feeling herding cats is easier than getting my 2 girls out of the house
curious what the tooth fairy does in the off season. her dust looks suspiciously like stripper glitter…
anyone have any extra elves to come clean my house while i sleep?
in a pinch (literally), can chlorox cleanups can be subsituted for charmin wipes?
merry EX-mas!
i just realized the reason for it all: the ex’s heart is simply 2 sizes too small…
redoing the ol’ resume. my last computer experience listed: proficiency in word/excel 97. awesome.
i don’t know the answer to the age old debate of who’s easier to raise: girls or boys. but i do know girls involve way more glitter.
today was a complete waste of contacts.
umm so, yah, i find storm troopers sexy. who’s w me ladies?

ladies, feel free to clip ur toenails IN BETWEEN pedis. really. please.
just found out there is a 5th baldwin.brother: schlomo
it is 12:30 am and i am eating american cheese on nacho doritos. doesn’t get sexier than this…

you know it’s laundry time when you have to go commando…
dear old navy: enough with the creepy talking mannequin commercials. please.
i just saw the cashier from wegmans shopping at shoprite. innerestin..
does cosco sell a vodka club pack?
when nerds reproduce, the result is exactly what you would expect.
told my 8 yr old i thought the transformers movie was awful & she said, “maybe it isn’t your genre.” oh snap.
umm. pretty sure this bar became a gay bar since my last visit. hey, prettiest girls here tho…

ed hardy makes vodka now. clearly he is trying 2 get on my good side…
u know u have an awesome boyfriend when he cleans the bathroom while making you dinner while singing to you while playing the gee-tar…
3 trips 2 DD 2day @ 3 diff DD with 3 diff levels of crappy service.
is there a 12 step for carb addiction? i clearly have a problem & need help
before u buy ur dog a snuggie for xmas this year, i urge u 2 consider 1 thing: dogs have FU*KING fur.
i wish people wuld b more considerate when im eavesdropping & have more interesting convos.
so my 2 rugrats sleep w me every nite. wouldn’t mind if they didn’t expand llike transformers when they do…
indications ur date went well: u singed ur hair on a candle flame, u went home with ur undies in ur purse, & u scored a sweet new t-shirt.
how does lowly worm steer the apple car? he has no arms. this may give u a hint of what i watch on elliptical…
things i am not watching while on elliptical: cooking shows, shapewear infomercials, anything related 2 exercise.
2 questions: what is the legal age for cofee consumption & y r there always so many tiny sox around?
how much do u have 2 suck at making cookies to be asked 2 leave the prep area by your 8 yr old?
i’m not sure when it happened, but at some point i became a “ma’am.” not the most thrilling realization.
ate my weight in tiny chocolate bars today. i have decided to embrace “voluptuousness” for awhile
ice cream cake + nacho doritos = halloween dinner. hits all the important food groups.

note to rugrats: unattended halloween candy will be considered communal property & dealt with accordingly…
my favorite mutant on futurama is definitely the leg with the hat.
ugly, but true confessions: i watched the lord of the rings trilogy, i enjoyed it immensely, and middle earth makes me randy.
i am now sure civilzation is ending soon: they have made dog snuggies…in animal prints. just stop.
accidentally switched my scale to kilograms. liked my weight much better. gonna keep it that way. i am soooo thin now!
i’m too sexy for this walmart.
the queen proclaimed, “the fat jeans are loose.” and there was rejoicing in all the land. ice cream for all.
the daily 8:11 am dilemma after bus leaves: go to gym or get back into bed to resume hibernation. adulthood is frought w tough decisions.
there is a gd colony of fruit flies squatting in my kitchen.
lost in corn maze: please send help & GPS.
deep thoughts: if u r a ups delivery person, the best gig has got 2 be dleivering inside the mall.
so is it fair 2 say ur kid is f’d in math when the tutor is stressed out & worried after the hour?
i luv how this chick on hgtv is painting while wearing a white t & jacket. puh-leeze.
cast my stones in the ocean today: i am ready for a fresh year of sin..
5 yr old eating candy @ 8:57 pm. seems like a good idea.
after close to a year of hard labor, i am proud & relieved to announce my completion of the twilight series. no more, ms. meyer. no more
just dowloaded phineas & ferb soundtrack 4 MYSELF. solid.
OMG. i literally split my jeans trying 2 wiggle them on. time 2 put down the oreos…
don’t ask why. just know that i am sleeping w a 5 yr olds foot up my ass..
you’ve heard of the 2 martini lunch? well i just had the 3 getting divorced milf lunch. no vodka, but just as entertaining…
does anyone give a shit about car alarms anymore?
i want to be a vampire like bella cullen. i know the first person i would eat.
as i was dragging my crabby child out of bed this morning, i was wondering if it would be wrong to give a 6 yr old coffee…
it’s fun sit upstairs at wegman’s & check out everybody’s roots. time 2 make an appointment ladies …
i am living in the middle of a shit storm & i have no tp.
just lost a nail pulling out weeds. this is why i am not domestic, people.
i just witnessed the purchase of a cinnamon broom. i am disgusted yet fascinated…
smuggled coffee onto elliptical again. lookin out for the java gym police. bright me if u see ‘em
hey suzy sprinkles, wipe the fu*king seat down after ur done. for god sakes. fn pigs.
i am considering opening a plumbing business called “The Crack.”
did u know gene shallot was still alive? his huge afro hasn’t aged a bit.

just spotted my first “the bump” wearer. she looks like elvira. not a good look, ladies.

is it wrong 2 heist booze from ur parents’ hopuse if ur over 21?
i am watching the biggest loser whilst eating a bag of potato chips. baked lays at least…
not sure if i am i proud or troubled my almost 6 yr old asks for hairspray every morning.
my almost 9yr just old asked, “was there even color (tv) in 1991?”
9 yr old girls: 15 mins in sprinklers outside. 60 mins showering inside.
what is it about a dude playing the guitar that makes u want 2 rip ur clothes off?
crap. the fat jeans are tight.
u know ur doing a stellar parenting job when ur 5 yr old does a spot on dr. zoidberg impression…
sis said my blog was blocked at work due 2 “objectionable tasteless content.” i have arrived…
8 yr old: does the pool close at 7 b/c the old people have 2 go 2 sleep?
i hate when people say “visually see.” what other way do u see? morons. i “aurally hear.”
a grown woman should not have potato chip crumbs in her bed …yet i do.

dear ed hardy & fans: it’s over.
most obnox woman in pedi chair nxt 2 me. they r so talkling abt her in korean.
back from chocolateville. my thighs arrived home shortly b4 i did…
PA people have a certain look. i believe it is called “inbred.”
cartoon netwrok is adding shows w real people now. i am not pleased.
if i see the same random peeps @ target every time i go, r they there 2 much or am i?
large group of crotchety old peeps at pool solving all of nation’s problems. listen up, obama.
my gf just told me the ringtone on her cell 4 me is “blame it on the alcohol.” DOH.

hey seating karma: u messed up. i am supoosed 2 b next 2 hot guy. not lovely chatty elderly couple.
the hotels in vegas should have a complimentary bottle of aspirin in each room.
i just got 2 vegas & i’m already down 25 bux in TSA confiscated liquids over 3 oz.
hate the mac. love their nerds. internet restored. faith in apple not.
morning sue & her dentist r gonna b really pissed at evening sue for eating those milk duds from halloween.

went 2 the gym. it was closed. eating pizza in my workout clothes instead…
being cut off from the internet is the adult version of being sent 2 ur room. cool stuff is happening w/o me.
i am not sure 2 flavors of doritos need 2 share 1 bag. i am sure i should not b eating them now.
caught up w an old pal 2day named nordstrom. we both agreed to continue 2 deny my shoe problem…
painful discovery: the size of the muffin top is inversely proportional 2 the skinniness of the jeans. sigh.
there is frozen food in my trunk defrosting as i do the elliptical. priorities. what’s a little salmonella btwn friends?
if i had harry potter’s invisibility cloak right now, i would use it to take a nap.how many calories does yenta-ing at the gym burn?
dear 19 yr old lifeguard @ the senior’s pool: it’s possible there’s no sadder summer job than yours
rockin the 2 piece at the seniors pool. i def have the best bod here.
dear sea bright: trouble is rolling into town tonight & bringing 9 friends…
u know that glue used for adhering samples 2 magazines that is like boogers? i f’n luv that stuff.
being old is not an all access pass to the front of the line. wait ur turn like the rest of us old biddy.
hey starbux, might i suggest renaming ur “kenyan gold” to “bowel blaster?” sweet jeebus.
public parks are really great cept for one thing: the public
.large DD skim milk hot latte + leftover mac & chee w hot sauce = happinessplaying mastermind w my 5 yr old. not only is she teaching me but she is kicking my ass.
food courts provide the most fascinating cross-section of humanity.
if ur actually deaf & reading the close captioning, how would u know what a slide whistle sounds like?
singing barbie. singing barbie. MAKE IT STOP!
the frustration w the continually crappy weather lies in the fact that Ma Nature doesn’t have a customer svc line in India u can bitch to.
note to cleaning product advertisers: we don’t actually wear a bandana on our head while cleaning.
i love how they hold your coffee hostage at the D&D drive thru until you give up the cash. must be a high incidence of coffee poaching.

i got the “no cash in my wallet, no gas in my car, no coffee in my blood blues.” my mornings are a bad country song.
you ever run into someone you deleted from your cell phone?
awkwarrrrrrd.ok who ratted me out? the jehovahs came to see me today…
i have now exceeded the daily limit of aspirin. i am not concerned since any liver damage will just be redundant.
whew. that was fun. sorry to all those i spilled on….
grey goose & club w a lime. who’s buying my first drink? no fighting. there will be more chances…
am i the only one who feels like a homeless person when u buy a bottle of wine & the dude puts it in a brown bag?
ipod: check. water: check. sports bra: check. camel toe: check. ready for the gym.
Extensive research has revealed it is impossible not to sport camel toe in work out pants.
who buys 150 munchkins and leaves only 18 chocolate ones for the rest of us? bastages, that’s who.
damn you instyler. damn you straight to hell. you shall go back to the tv dimension from whence you came.
i have 3rd degree burns on my forehead from my new Instyler. Clearly i am not a professional.a
another weekend comes to an end & my liver couldn’t be more grateful. rest up my faithful companion. friday is on the horizon.
have a stamp on my hand & i am sweating vodka. i’d say last nite was a success.
water. tylenol. repeat.

i just burned the back of my neck w my brandy new Instyler. this was not mentioned during the infomercial.
me so soggy. me me so soggyyyyy. this rain blows.
male math tutors that come to my house should not be young & hot. period.
instead of my alarm, i woke up to a duet extolling the virtues of poopy. truly a hallmark moment.
you can size up someone in 2 seconds by how they place their coffee order.
i thought barney was the root of all evil. turns out it’s hip hop harry.
would u like ur  morning 8 yr old drama w hash browns or home fries? ketchup w that?
“Hey, it’s Frankilinnnnn, the whiney insufferable wussy turrrrrtle.”
definition of slacker mom: sleep til 11 while kids eat cheese doodles 4 bfast. i am so gooood at this.i’m at a theater.
the bitch next 2 me smells obnoxiously of “fresh scent” tampons. anyone wanna switch seats?
8 y/o:: Daddy, you’re losing your hair. Me: ahhh, my evil plan is working. bwah hah hah.
Now accepting applications for personal barista. The money isn’t good, but the adoration will be priceless. Now make me a skim latte stat!
I am feeling tweetless:  Looks like I am far less fascinating that previously imagined.
i am so bleepin tired of putting the same things away. i had no idea motherhood meant being “the stuff wrangler.
who minds being sick when you can have a hot toddy? well, other than my overworked liver.
so back 2 the grind. Im a bit bummed. My liver is relieved.
Crap. The kids are home. Game over.Oldest Child: Mommy, you have dimples on your butt. Me: Thanks for noticing.
ate my weight in chips & salsa 2day& my guacamole blood content must b over the legal limit.
It just wouldn’t be morning without a fresh 8 yr old tantrum to go with my Folgers Crystals. Ahh. I am so fulfilled.
just realized i am watching sesame st alone. is it bad that i’m enjoying it?

Asked the kids at bus stop this morn how many days of school left, is it friday yet, and why didn’t u bring me coffee? daughter was not pleased.
I am being held against my will in an insane asylum called Parenthood State Hospital. Please come see me for visiting hours.ahhh. nuthin says monday like 8 am 8 yr old drama. “hey mom, welcome to ur week, beyatch.”
i wish i had a live-in barrista. my coffee really sux.
so oxyclean DOES get blood out…
why do supermarket cashiers always wanna chat w u about their 12 cats?
young duaghter: where do these (wings) come from? me: uh, u know those cute lil chicks u hatched at school? young daughter: oh. well they r delicious.
microwave popcorn: providing a viable dinner option since 1989.
i am still trying to figure out why having my kids with me for mother’s day is a reward…

 

 


 

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9
Jan 11

season of the bitch

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

hey don’t forget: bitches need love too.

has a 7 year old ever told an interesting story?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

oops i did it again: i faked the orgasms.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

be a facebook fan! please…

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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.

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5
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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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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4
Apr 10

The Frozen Kid

hey folks! it’s time for the first (of most likely many) gratuitous “my kids say the derndest thangs” post. i share not only because are my kids are totally hysterical without even trying, but writing this kind of post is just too cheap and easy to resist. so without further justification, i bring you some bits from the stand up act i enjoy in my domestic comedy club on a daily basis. the two drink minimum is optional but i comply (strictly as a courtesy to the house).

we were watching a full house episode in which michelle had been given a “time out:”

9 yr old: “who makes a kid sit in a chair facing the wall?”

me: “well, it’s an old show, you know from the 80′s.”

9 yr old: “oh. the 80′s. well, they didn’t have accurate ways of disciplining kids back then.”

6 yr old: “mommy what color do you dye your hair?”

me: ” i don’t dye my hair yet. i don’t get grays. i guess i’m not that old, huh?”

6 yr old:  “that doesn’t mean you’re not old. ”

6 yr old giggling: “my teacher told us today we had to use a number two pencil for the tests. a NUMBER TWO!”

me: “umm. well, there really is such a thing.”

6 yr old: “come on, mommy. a number two pencil? that’s just silly”

9 yr old helping 6 yr old with homework: “i am a teacher in training. a T. I. T.”

me: “yah, that’s great, but let’s call it something else.”

9 yr old: “why? did i say a bad word?”

me: “yes. but it’s ok, you didn’t know.”

9 yr old: “well, that is why i need to know all the bad words, mom: so i don’t use them by accident. ”

6yr old: ” well, i know the H.A. word.”

me: “the H. A. word? i am not sure what you mean by that.”

6 yr old: “daddy says it all the time when he’s driving.”

me: “really? what is it?”

6 yr whispering in my ear, “Head Ass.”

me: “what???”

6 yr old still whispering, “daddy always says to the other drivers, ‘get your Head out of your Ass.’ Head Ass.”

me: “ohhh. the H. A. word.”

we eat out a lot and i find it so frustrating to constantly waste money on ordering food the kids insist they want & promise to eat but end up not doing so time after time. this particular night my oldest daughter demanded an order of eda mame which usually go uneaten. we argued back & forth resulting in my agreement to place the order with this caveat: “if you don’t eat them, then you will have to pay me back for them.” a completely ridiculous comment made out of frustration that caused my sister to snicker behind her menu. so the eda mames arrive & my daughter starts shoveling them in like it’s her last meal, and i say “why are you eating like that?”  to which she replied,” if i don’t finish these you are going to charge me for them!”

9 yr old: “i have an on/off relationship with crusts.”

me to 9 yr old during power outtage: “stop freaking out your sister.” 9 year old, “i’m not. i just froked myself out.”

my kids came home from their respective valentine’s day parties at school this year, with all kinds of crap about which dentists have nightmares. they sat down to a candy buffet while i was in the other room. when i returned, i came back to see they were cutting fun dip with pixie stix sugar. i guess fun dip has a higher street value?  this has to be how addiction starts…

little sister to big sister: “i am going to kick your butt at this game” and then proceeds to literally kick her in the butt. big sister to little sister: “that’s a saying, it doesn’t mean you actually do it!”

9 year old: “mom do, i have to go to [6yr old sister's] gymnastics with you? i hate sitting there for an hour smelling feet.”

my mother was telling me about a class she took at a local community college about carmen, the opera. suddenly, my 6 yr old pipes up and says authoritatively, “grandma , it is not opera, it’s Oprah!”

my 9 year old likes to order a turkey sandwich at our local deli. she also likes to order for herself. so, she asked the waitress for german dressing on the side. the waitress looked at me quizzically, i looked back at her just as confused, and then at the same moment we both realized: she wanted russian dressing.

9 yr old: “why does she [6 yr old sister]  get so excited when my friends come over?”

me: “dunno. it’s like how dogs get excited when they see you”

9 yr old: “well, at least, she doesn’t pee on the floor.”

6 yr old upon losing her second bottom tooth: “but i can’t whistle.” me: “could you whistle before your tooth fell out?” 6 yr old: “no.”

at my mom’s house for dinner one night: she fed the girls and then made one of my childhood staples, “franks and beans,” for me. upon learning such, both girls replied in horror: “no mommy! major gas tonight. it’s  gonna smell in our room.” a few hours later, my stomach was rumbling & an earthquake was about to roar through my intestines. so, i told to my oldest that she was right about the dinner entree- it probably wasn’t such a good idea,  and she said, ” mommy, it’s franks or beans. not both.”

9 yr old: “can i take my ice cream to the tv room?”

me: “no. sit with us and eat so we can all be together.”

grandmother: “tell us your thoughts. are you thinking about anything?”

9 yr old: “yes. i’m thinking that i really want to watch tv.”

grandmother: “do you want me to defrost something for breakfast or make some fresh pancakes?”

9 yr old: “why would i have frozen when i can have fresh? mommy defrosts everything. i am The Frozen Kid.”

9 yr old: “i really want a kitten. so i can raise it until it gets big.”

6 yr old: “don’t you think that will be a lot of work?”

9 yr old: “yes, but it will be worth it for that bundle of joy.”

5 minutes into a rousing game of “who can be quiet the longest” while in the car late-ish one night, 9 year old asks, “can we talk now? not talking makes me nauseous.”

for some reason known only to my dvr, it taped all of one week’s simpsons episodes in spanish. upon hearing me remark how odd that was, 9 year old says, “maybe it’s hispanic week.”

one night i was having a hard time getting the 6yr old to bed. helpful 9 yr old starts making bribes to her sister that i don’t want to have to make good on at a later time.  i say to well-meaning older daughter, “just stop.” “stop what?” “stop having ideas.” my sister just looked at me with a smirk and instantly realizing how ridiculous my statement was, i  said to her, “you know people are always writing funny things kids say, but really they should be writing about stupid things parents say to their kids.”

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26
Nov 09

gggb gives thanks

hand-turkey

i could blather on about how grateful i am for my delicious children, supportive family, beloved friends, all my abundance, & yada yada which, of course, goes without saying; but here are a few more things a girl like me is thankful for this thanksgiving…

my young well hung boyfriend.

that my young well hung boyfriend doesn’t give a shit about the 5 extra pounds of muffin top that now pours over my jeans since we started dating.

that after losing my father, i still have a wonderful man in my life (see above) that supports me, gets me totally, thinks i am fabulous just the way i am & loves me unconditionally.

smart food white cheddar popcorn & carbohydrates in general.

the wonderland that is sephora.

joss stone, & alana davis.

chelsea handler & all talented, strong, & funny women, famous or not, who aren’t afraid  to speak their minds.

my lawyer.

my lawyer’s staff.

not having to spend anymore time with the in-laws or pretending to like any of them ever again.

flavored vodka.

texting.

pendente lite.

butt wipes.

the freedom from giving a shit about what The Asshat (a.k.a. ex husband to be)  thinks about anything i do. actually, what he thinks about anything at all.

the wonderful sense of humor my father had and how he taught me to see the humor in everything, every day.

not having to sleep next to a Snoring Fat Ape ever again.

never being seen in a yellow car/suv again.

not pretending to care about anything that has to do with the “the market or “work.”

not having to wash stained underwear, rush (a.k.a. The Worst Band Ever) t-shirts, or filthy socks.

not having to care about how foul the bathroom i don’t use anymore now is.

finally feeling completely free to be myself.

having the fortitude to show some people that payback is a bitch & consequences for bad behavior are real.

ebay, facebook, google mail, zappo’s, nordstrom, & online shopping.

talk soup, the dish, family guy, the simpsons, & the like for making me laugh daily.

my DVR.

ipods & limewire.

paige petite jeans.

flat irons.

high heeled clogs & wedges.

my mom’s new kitty, dexter.

the incredible strength my mother possesses & passed on to me .

the bright future that i know lies ahead of me.

my dear friend mary petto who invited my mother and i to join her family dysfunction this year. she ended up putting out her back & spent it flat on her couch while the rest of us ate ourselves into a tryptophan induced coma in her dining room.

having happy memories of my father being with us last year on this very day.

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8
Nov 09

roses are red part 2: for all occasions…

dried_rose_petals

okay, so the “happy divorce ™” card line (perhaps future e-card line?) was a hit. like bartles & jaymes, i thank you for your support. so, one of my best girls suggested the line could be expanded to include all kinds of Fuck You Occasions. why stop with Lunatic ex-husbands? i now realize the possibilities are endless and i am again inspired (still not inspired to finish a real post, but inspired nonetheless)…

roses are red, as a friend you’re the best, but you are a fucking bitch, when you pms.

rose are red, chocolate is divine, you were a sloppy drunk last night, we think it’s detox time.

rose are red, diamonds i adore, you slept with my boyfriend/husband, you’re a dirty fucking whore.

roses are red, there’s a cake called bundt, i have defriended you, because you’re such a goddamn cunt.

rose are red, love is usually fleeting, you’re fired you moron, because you missed the staff meeting.

roses are red, some peppers are mild, you better tell your wife soon, that i am pregnant with your child.

rose are red, your chic restaurant is hip, but the service was so bad, i am leaving no tip.

roses are red, the 80′s were rad,  but its 2009 now, and that haircut is just plain bad.

rose are red, facebookers like to chat, your husband/boyfriend propositioned me online, because he is a fucking rat.

roses are red, hay goes in bales, stop pressing send, and forwarding me those asinine emails.

roses are red, some eggs are runny, it’s time you knew, your dumb-ass jokes never were funny.

roses are red, lawnmowers cut grass, have you turned around lately, and seen the size of your ass?

roses are red, bozo was a clown, you are looking just like him, put the makeup brush down.

roses are red, the public is beggin’, no more fat thighs, in those scary tight leggins’

rose are red, some grapes are red, i may go to hell, but i sincerely hope you drop dead.

roses are red, swines have the flu, you’re the worst fucking boss, and i hate you.

roses are red, peaches have a pit, this job fucking sucks, and now i shall quit.

roses are red, kittens are cute, get your ass to the salon, you have 2 inches of roots.

roses are red, where is waldo, i am pleased to tell you, you’re getting quite baldo.

roses are red, i am feeling quite smug, to be the one to tell you, we all know it’s a bad rug.

roses are red, i have a feeling, you haven’t realized how much, your hairline’s receding.

roses are red, edward is a vamp, the whole town knows, your daughter is a little tramp.

rose are red, your bratty kid is a punk, the only way i can be with your family, is to get completely drunk.

roses are red, florida is warm, i will kill your dog, if he doesn’t stop crapping on my lawn.

roses are red, some people read books, i am not coming to for dinner anymore, because you’re a horrible cook.

roses are red, still water runs deep, no more nice presents for you, because you’re so fucking cheap.

roses are red, ducks like to quack, don’t ever call me again, since you really suck in the sack.

roses are red, pavement is black, i am finally breaking up with you, so hit the road jack.

roses are red, watch out for broken glass, it’s time for you to go, don’t let the door hit you in the ass.

roses are red, pens have ink, go take a shower, because you fucking stink.

rose are red, peanut butter loves jelly, go brush your teeth, cause your breath is so damn smelly.

roses are red, the suns sets at night, go clean your messy room child, before i set it alight.

roses are red, carnations are pink, i will skin you alive, if you leave your dishes in the sink.

roses are red, monty python eats spam, that slut over there, slept with your man.

roses are red, green is the clover, i am tired of you bitch, our friendship is over.

roses are red, dogs have fleas, i never want to see you again, lose my number please.

roses are red, roaches are vile, i stopped listening to you whine, for quite a long while.

roses are red, leaves grow on trees, i ain’t gonna forget, about that money you owe me.

roses are red, bunnies like to hop, pull your pants up, and cover that huge muffin top!

roses are red, baseball players spit, so sorry to hear, you just can’t take a shit.

roses are red, moles like to dig, your armpits are soaked, because you sweat like a pig.

roses are red, i used to have slinkies, your fat rolls are growing, put down the twinkies!

roses are red, vodka is taxed, you look like a dude, time to get your lip waxed.

roses are red, i must beg your pardon, but if you ever want to get head,  you must tend your garden.

roses are red, babies eat mush, you can’t wear a bikini, unless you shave your giant bush.

roses are red, teenagers get zits, put on a bra, we don’t need to see your sagging tits.

roses are red, birds fly south, you nauseate me so, i just puked in my mouth.

roses are red, fruits drinks are blended, i could do this forever, but i think i must end it…

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4
Aug 09

she told 2 friends & then they told 2 friends…

it always come down to pledge week doesn’t it? you’re enjoying mutual of omaha on pbs, a lion is massacring a gazelle when they cut in & ask you to give them money for an ugly tote bag. well, i too must interrupt your regularly scheduled blog-gram for this important message. i ain’t having a telethon to ask you for money, but i am asking for your e-support. while i am so grateful to you, my facebook following, because you guys have given me major support & fabulous feedback (you all must have known i don’t handle constructive criticism very constructively), and i am beyond honored to entertain you, i need to branch out & see other followers too. nothing personal dahlings, it’s all business. so all i ask is that you sign up to follow me on the rss feed. you know, subscribe. why you ask? well, 4 reasons:

1. word of mouth will help my fan base grow: perhaps you send your pals the link to sign up & they send it to their friends & so on & so on. like that cheesy fabrege organics commercial from 1976. remember it? at the very least we will all have great hair…
2. if i am ever going to take this thing hollywood (or anywhere outside of my sad little pre-divorce dorm room), i am going to need a respectable following beyond my dear college pals & my aunt shel.
3. my ego is fragile & needs you to.
4. it’s anonymous and only a minor inconvenience like flossing.

so for less than it costs to feed a child in zimbabwe, or buy a cup of fair trade coffee, you can support a fledgling blogger & continue to enjoy outstanding blog-gramming like: my rack & i, the adventures of CT, i was married to a mental patient, & more. plus, you can say you were there when it all began. because, gosh darnnit, people like me & single with vodka: good girl gone bad is going places baby! come along for the ride. i haven’t even scratched my bloggering surface yet…

so check out those cute lil’ links across from here that say “rss feed,” and “register” & please just do whatever annoying things they ask of you & eventually i will have a real fabulous website that won’t be such a pita which, is in the beginning phases of construction. every time you visit, something will probably have changed until i feel like it’s just right. my blog and i are moving on to bigger & better, just like in my life…

thanking you very much in advance!

xoxo,
your sueness

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