Posts Tagged: wine

NC-17 / one liners- hey it's easy / pussy jokes never get old — 12 Comments
14
Feb 11

astrokegs

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

scenes from suburbia:

vet’s office, 3 pm in the afternoon.

vet tech: “how may i help you?”

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

vert tech does spit take. end scene.

i think pepto bismal should come in a vodka flavor.

a smart woman knows who butters her pussy…

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

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

do they sell astroglide in kegs?

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

me: i hate monkies.

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

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

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

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

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

don’t judge a penis by it’s owner.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

i’m a whore, not a fighter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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NC-17 / one liners- hey it's easy / pussy jokes never get old — 1 Comment
21
Nov 10

FFIP

it’s hard to date just one person, and as yvette says: “it ain’t cheatin’, if you’re just eatin’…”  i assume this applies to “beatin’ ” as well?

what is this business of getting to know each other before having sex? that is absolutely ridiculous – if the sex is bad, there is absolutely nothing else i need to know.

my old college buddy, miller, has now dubbed me, “surly with vodka.” as long as there is vodka, i don’t care what you call me.

things are moving kind of quickly with The BFFN (The Boyfriend For Now) and i have to tell you that i am really excited to get to that part of the relationship where i have to shower less…

we have decided to be exclusive – we don’t want to date any other couples.

he loves to pet my pussy – i’m really starting to become jealous of that cat…

the other day was National Smokeout Day. i think i may have misconstrued the meaning – turns out it was cigarettes, not pole.

the tightness of the pants i wear on a date depends on how quickly i plan to be out of them.

i’m not on west coast, central mountain, or eastern time. i’m on BCT: Booty Call Time.

Adam: “so, what are you going to wear on your date tonight?”

me: “something easy to slip out of.”

Adam: “are you planning on having sex?”

me: “do you have to ask?”

the new relationship is going so well – my only concern is the challenge it presents to my cynicism…

i have found BFFN’s fatal flaw: he snores deeply enough to suck small planets out of orbit.

BFFN asked me to promise not to fake the orgasms and i agreed as long as he promised to give me the reasons not to.

bumper sticker: have toothbrush, will travel.

i think the alarm clock could be improved by replacing The Snooze Button with a Morning Sex Button.

BFFN: “so, what kind of wine do you like?”

me: “cheap. like me.“

when people tell me to “behave” or not to “work too hard,” i just laugh – those are two things i never do.

BFFN: “my friend sent me pictures of his wife naked.”

me: “omg. what an asshole. let me see.“

before we go out, my friends tell me to keep my pants on and i admonish them not to.

it was friday night, and all across the land, bootay was being had. the queen was pleased.

BFFN: “you are the horniest girl ever.”

me: “thank you.”

since i have 2 girls, i am fascinated by my new nephews’ little wangs – its the only time tiny penises are adorable.

there is a cliched poster female co-eds like to hang in their dorm rooms – the one with the gorgeous man holding the tiny baby in the palm of his hand. now, this is where they have it all wrong – make it a balding, overweight, middle aged guy who never hears the baby crying at night and maybe we won’t have to suffer through the palins or shows like 16 and pregnant anymore.

mikey w: “i used to date a girl who liked me to cum on her face so she could rub it in – it’s good for the skin you know.”

me: “i’ll just stick with Oil of Olay.”

my pussy is so well groomed – i brush him every day and clip his claws every week.

me: “i’ll bring the booze. do you want cheap vodka or cheap wine?”

dana: “things seemed to be going so well. i don’t understand what happened.”

me: “he must have met someone else.”

dana: “or, he didn’t like how my vagina tasted.”

me: “well, that is always a possibility.”

i love car seat warmers – they provide all of the pleasant warmth of peeing in your pants with none of the wetness.

my pussy is so clean – he is always licking himself.

i was texting with my sister and mikey w. at the same time: the first convo involved giving motherly advice about the new babies, the second was a discussion of our sexual conquests in great detail. i just loved the irony of Parallel Textersations.

BFFN: “did you want to have sex?”

me: “well duh, of course i do, but what made you ask?”

BFFN: “well, you came back from the bathroom holding your belt & your pants are unbuttoned.”

hope was worried her date wouldn’t like the fact that her nail polish was chipped. i told her not to worry about it unless she was going out with a gay guy.

mikey w.: “who the fuck knows.”

me: “no one. so just fuck who you know.”

i’m really into the new bf, so i don’t want to date anyone else, but i do normally like to keep my options open, and by options, i mean legs.

i am going to market a new line of Do Not Disturb/Housekeeping hangers for the door that are more honest. one side will say FFIP: Fuck Fest In Progress. the other side will say, Caution: Wet Sheets.

BFFN: “you have to get off me – i really have to go now & get ready for that wedding today.”

me: “call in sick.”

the only time i condone the use of marijuana is for purely medicinal reasons – like before sex.

you should always visit a guy’s place before becoming too involved with him- it’s very important to see him in his natural habitat.

the beginning of a relationship is always so wonderful – the getting to know one another, the mind-blowing sex, the falling in love much too quickly, the trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with each other and when it’s all going to go to shit…

when we go on dates, women generally operate with the knowledge that the dude most likely only just wants to fuck us – any chick over 30 who doesn’t realize that is a moron or amish.

fuck that mars, venus bullshit.  i think it’s more like oil & water: with enough agitation, you can get them to mix well together briefly, but no matter what, they always end up separating completely.

i pride myself on being the sanest one over a wide demographic of crazy friends, proving once again, that sanity is all relative.

ever hear of the wolf in sheep’s clothing? well i think i may be a dude in chick’s clothing…

you’re allergic to my cat so you can’t ever come over to my place? that is puuurrrrfect.

i like to go to the guy’s place – let him clean up the aftermath of the crime scene i’m surely going to create in the bedroom…

having all of this technology while dating creates new ways to asses a match: for instance, i find it very important that there is Compatible Textiquette. i think there should be a category on the profile called Text Preferences, because a mismatch in that area can be a total deal breaker. you would mark like desired frequency, preferred response time, and how just soon filthy texts can be sent…

on the subject of texting though, too much of it before you actually meet gives you false sense of knowing the person and feeling comfortable with him which normally leads to major disappointment in the real life meeting. although, i have had great Text Chemistry with many guys prior to meeting them, the excessive texting did not reveal the growth on the neck that should be looked at immediately, the hairy arm that was suggestive of a recessive werewolf gene, the bad breath that could not be cured with even a stick of minty gum, the nervous tics that had me running into the rest room hoping for a window to jump out of, the ripped dirty sweatpants, the rent-a-wreck he came in, the bad manners, the fact he hasn’t showered since his last date,  or the fact that someone else had to be writing for him because the real life person was lacking any wit or personality. you gotta be careful with your virtuality – it’s an e-jungle out there.

i decide if i will sleep with a guy the minute i meet him by assessing if i can drink him fuckable.

i just hate to leave my pussy alone all night – i think i’m gonna have to start bringing him with me.

BFFN after checking out my laundry room: “i have to bring some laundry over, you have big machines.”

me: “i do have big machines. just make sure you bring some quarters for my slot.”

can u imagine how creepy you would be if you actually winked as much in real life as you do in texts? ;-)

i was razzing BFFN about not wanting to go see him in his White Trash Apartment and he told me i had to go to the jungle to get ravished. apparently, me: jane, he: horny.

me referring to the kitten: “look, my pussy is excited to see you.”

BFFN: “so, what’s new?”

we have only been dating a week but it feels so much longer. a quick, cursory review might reveal why: we saw each other 5 out of 7 days, i have done inappropriate things to him in his apartment with clearly, no regard for his children sleeping in the next room, i demanded that he quit smoking on the first date, i agreed to go with him to his family’s thanksgiving dinner and meet his entire family (not shockingly, i was given the caveat to behave), we have watched 4 movies and exchanged toothbrushes & contact lens cases, and he did the pleasantly surprising & unexpected I Brought You Coffee Drop-By (he already knows how i like my coffee – Giant Skim Latte. STAT!), and i committed a hit and run in his building’s parking lot while leaving at 1 am the other night (oh whatever, it was just a tap that’s what bumpers are for). in week 2 he will come to my place so he can hit my neighbors’ cars and then we’ll probably knock over a bank and flee to mexico.

look i gave him head start and warned him to run as far away as fast as he could – you know men never listen.

i say: slack hard or not at all!

the next time i get invited to a wedding, i have the perfect gift: the name of my divorce lawyer.

BFFN: “we can’t fool around when you come over, my kids will be asleep in the next room.”

me: “what kind of horrible, slut do you think i am?”

BFFN: “the worst kind. “

me: “that is so sweet – you already know me so well”


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one liners- hey it's easy / Uncategorized — No Comments
5
Nov 10

PBS

screw blondes – bad girls have more fun.

good girl, bad girl – it’s really all a matter of perspective.

so i have replaced wine with chocolate, but i think i have to go to pills next – no calories.

writing inspiration always strikes when i am in bed – after all, it is where i do my best work…

as far as dating goes, i think i may be a seller in a buyer’s market…

so far there is no major difference between having the cat around the house and having a husband: he sheds, eats anything i give him, doesn’t clean up after himself,  licks me only occasionally, marks his territory by peeing where he’s not supposed to, doesn’t come when i call, hides to avoid activities he doesn’t want to do, and ignores me until he wants something. nice thing is, i can neuter this guy and give him away if i get tired of him.

i enjoy a romp with my battery powered friend before i go to sleep. but after being surprised i took a 4 hour nap the other day, a friend suggested that i not set my vibrator to stun…

you know, honestly, i didn’t want to get a cat at all, but it has given me a lot of new material – i have tapped into a whole new subject area since i can make endless double entendre pussy references now.

i have a friend who is a martha stewart of sorts and i just feel so inadequate around her – she really inspires me to want to do & be so much more…i have decided to stop hanging around her.

i was all set to go out to today and run a bunch of errands but then i realized i had so many unfinished things to take care of around the house – a bag of potato chips, a box of chocolate, and a bottle of wine.

i thought The Headache Excuse was completely bogus until i had one the other night -  i wouldn’t even do myself.

just how long have you let yourself go when you have to put “shower” on your To Do list?

my dating life is a train wreck and i am the unlicensed engineer.

The Biggest Loser is not only a reality show, but who contacts me online.

i am ready to dive back into the dating pool, but since there is no lifeguard, i am going to wear my floaties this time.

for some men condoms aren’t an option, you need a full wet suit.

thank goodness we educate new mothers about the possibility of post-partum depression after birth – but shouldn’t we do the same for new wives about post honeymoon depression after the wedding?

note to unworthy men: sometimes we fuck you because we have nothing else to do & we are just bored.

my resolve to get things done tomorrow is always so much stronger today.

i was at my friend dana’s house eating gas inducing hibachi leftovers and i asked her if she minded if i farted. she said, “no, but i just don’t want it to smell.”

i was immensely flattered to find out several of my friends must delete my texts.

dating has totally made me get why strippers hate men.

i was contacted by a hot greek man online. i began to respond, but remembered i had to do the proper background check first and google greek penis size first.

i think the problem with the dating pool might be that it’s only stocked with flounders & guppies and i’m a shark.

i would stop drinking, but nothing fun ever happens when i’m sober.

there are no alcohol bottles in my house – they are all outside in the recycle bin.

go ahead – jump in feet first into the sea of online dating – but wear a life vest.

i wish i could dvr my life – fast forward to the end of the work day, delete things i don’t like, watch the good parts of my day over & over again, generally avoid anything distasteful, and most importantly, set the frequency for sex.

i actually did give up drinking for awhile and i realized something very important: sobriety is greatly overrated.

my pal, jenna, & i poop at the same time every day (yes, sadly we discuss this) – some women synch their periods, we synch our bowels.

whatever i catch in the dating pool, must be thrown back – i am beginning to think it’s the bait…

being a lil’ bit crazy, but basically functional is fine, but being a batshit nutjob and wandering about free in the world should require some sort of identification be worn at all times so the rest of us have fair warning.

lice is going around the school. i worried about catching it until i found out they prefer to take residence in clean hair.

i’d like to see a female wrestler called The Ex-Wife kicking ass – or better yet, a super hero: among her powers would be the ability to make any deadbeat ex-husband pay up immediately and then banish him to a tower of isolation for eternity.

my girls have a problem with PBS: Pre-Bitch Syndrome.

i want to keep letting my hair grow until it’s past my boobs. question is, with a bra on or off? this obviously determines the amount it still has to go.

i don’t do name tags. chances are if i didn’t give a shit who anyone was before i knew their name, i’m not gonna start at a fucking corprorate cocktail hour. do adults who are capable of actual speech, remembering their own names, & controlled muscle movement really need to wear these things to break the proverbial ice? and, furthermore, it’s a good bet that i don’t want to be identified later…

conversation at work with cool boss:

boss: “do you think you will get married again?”

me: “no way!”

boss: “well, you are kind of negative about men.”

me: “wow, thanks for pointing that out – that’s a major breakthough.”

recently the girls & i were invited to dinner at their friend’s house. while helping clean up, i opened the fridge to put the leftovers away and the inside just looked so odd to me. i couldn’t put my finger on why until i realized it was full.

while totally warranted, bitter is such an ugly word used to describe me – i prefer tangy.

i have tried to be less lazy, but i’m just not that motivated do anything about it.

i have tried to be less high maintenance, but i just have so many needs to be met.

my cousin was hit on by a hot married woman who explained that her husband is a quadripalegic and they have “an arrangement.” cuz wasn’t sure he wanted to cross over to the dark side (something about morals), but, i, of course, advised him to go for it. he said, “ok, but if she pulls into the driveway in a wheel chair equipped van, that’s where i draw the line.”

it has recently occurred to me, i may be one of “those people.”

popping zits & bubble wrap: universally satisfying.

text conversation with a suspected jackass i had only been texting with for a few days, that even i found offensive:

jackass: “i am in manalapan, do you want to get spanked?”

me: “you have to be kidding me.”

jackass: “nope”

me: “i wonder if your dick is as big as your balls.”

jackass: never heard from again.

me: :-)

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NC-17 / one liners- hey it's easy — 7 Comments
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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one liners- hey it's easy — 2 Comments
14
May 10

the circle of bullshit

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

i’m not bitter – just sweet n’ sour.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

i hate hitting bottom – the bottom of the bottle.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

grape juice is really just wine with training wheels.

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

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

make mine extra dirty, please.

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ponderings of a mad woman — 3 Comments
6
May 10

all around mommy’s big tush…

in honor of mother’s day, i have written some very special nursery rhymes for all the mommies out there. happy day, you wonderful, incredible, strong, superwomen.

old mother hubbard went to her cupboard to see that it was quite dry
she opened the door to see vodka no more and loudly did she cry.

there was a new mommy who was very blue.
she was so fucking tired, she didn’t know what to do.
so she poured herself a double
and took something for her head,
whipped her husband soundly
and then went to bed.

all around mommy’s big tush
the children fought each other.
the children thought t’was all in good fun ‘til,
FREAK! went the mommy.

a vodka a day
keeps the mommy okay.
kahlua in the morning
mommy’s pouring.
gin at night,
mommy’s all right.
bottle of wine before bed,
mommy really prefers red.
ten a day, hundreds each month, empty bottles, liquid lunch.

hey, hey bar keep,
have you any gin?
yes ma’am, yes ma’am
just came in.
one for the mother,
one for the wife,
and one for the kid
who took over your life.

diddle diddle dumpling
one shoe is gone.
went to bed
with my clothes on.
diddle diddle dumpling
i’m a mom.

eeny meeny miney moe.
catch a toddler on the go.
if he bites you,
you best let go.
eeny meeny miney moe.

the itsy bitsy rugrat
got hold of a black marker.
off came the cap
and all the walls were darker.
out came the mom
from in the crapper all alone.
swearing never again will freely that kid roam.

mommy, mommy chocolate eater.
had a diet that couldn’t keep her.
stuffed her mouth full of jelly beans.
fuck! now she needs all new jeans.

pussy cat, pussy cat
where have you hid?
in the bushes, away from that kid.
pussy cat, pussy cat, why did you go?
i crapped in his bed since i hate him so.

wives of a feather flock together.
especially if there’s wine.
gin or vodka, it’s their choice.
as long as i get mine.

the mommy in the hell.
the mommy in the hell.
hi-ho she’s always drunk.
the mommy in the hell.

ring around the soccer mom.
the PTA mom is faster.
fuck you, fuck you.
you’re all over-achievers!

super stressed mama sat in a corner
drinking her vodka & rye.
she chugged the first one and felt quite numb.
and then quietly did she cry.

little miss muff
sat on her duff
eating her kid’s table scraps.
along came a husband who said all day she did nothin’.
now she is doing 25 to life.

little bo peep hid from her sheep
and then she didn’t mind them.
she left them alone and had shots of petrone
animal control would find them.

jack and jill went up the hill
to fetch their lazy father.
they both fell down & broke their crowns
because their father is a moron.

jack sprat ate no fat.
his wife ate no lean.
because he never fucking came home for dinner.

mom be nimble.
mom be quick.
mom catch the kid
about to be sick.
mom run fast.
don’t be slow.
otherwise on the carpet it will go.

fe fi fo fum!
i smell the lies of a bad husband.
i know he’s been in a another’s bed.
i am going to beat him upon his head.

young mother cole was a very lonely soul.
and a lonely pretty wife was she.
she called for her handy man.
she called for her plumber.
and then she called for her painters three.

hey diddle diddle
the kid in the middle
is usually kind of off.
the little one laughed
when the oldest took note
that mommy ran away with a cop.

hickory dickory dock.
somewhere it’s 5 o’clock.
so mommy poured one
and down it went.
hickory dickory dock.

hush little baby,
don’t say a word.
mama’s gonna change your turd.
if that turd really stinks,
then mama’s gonna need a drink.
if that drink don’t do the trick,
then mama’s gonna get really sick.
if mama gets sick and makes a fuss,
the neighbors just may call dyfus.
if dyfus comes to take the kids,
daddy is gonna flip his lid.

humpty dumpty sat on a bar stool.
humpty dumpty drank ‘til he drooled.
all the queen’s horses & all the queen’s men,
wouldn’t let humpty come home ever again.

hush a buy mommy,
in the strip mall.
when the stores open,
visa will call.
before school ends
mommy must leave.
then much will cry mommy, shoesies, & all.

mommy’s pants are falling down.
falling down.
falling down.
mommy’s pants are falling down.
her muffin top is showing.

i’ve been doing all the housework
all the live long day.

i’ve been doing all the housework
just to scrub this dirt away.

cant you hear the bathroom calling?
it’s the next place i must clean.

don’t you hear the husband shouting?
“i need some underwear!”

bitch, won’t you do
bitch, won’t you do
bitch, won’t you do the laundry?

bitch, won’t you do
bitch, won’t you do
bitch, won’t you do the laundry?

no one’s in the kitchen with mommy.
no one’s in the kitchen, i know.
no one’s in the kitchen with mommy
not helping so she can’t go.
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