Archive | May, 2012

my butt looks good today.

30 May

The following conversation happened at my workplace this morning at 9:00 AM:

Me: Good morning.

Front desk guard: Morning young lady, where have you been, on vacation?

Me: No, I’ve just been coming in the back door.

Random guy standing off to the side: Girl, look at that ass. That ASS. Tell me the secret cause I wanna come in the back door, too.

Me (in my head): Ugh, dickhead. I guess I set myself up for that one. I mean, why can’t dudes wait until 10 or something? I love men, but they really piss me off sometimes. Then again… I have been going to zumba and running 3-4 miles a day and it does look pretty good, so I don’t blame him. Ass, today we win, today we are victorious.

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a unique pep talk

29 May

My friend and I went to breakfast last week after a night out. By 9 am we had already exhausted ourselves talking about sex and men and we both agreed that we are confused by women who don’t enjoy getting freaky.

Then this happened:

Sara: Do you feel like you are “acting out” as a way of coping?

Me: I am not “acting out.” I feel stronger, really, and I just want to be normal.

Sara: You’re crazy and that’s okay.

Me: Well, a little bit, but not like “crazy crazy.”

Sara: The harsh reality is that you’re a crazy person. We both are. It’s time to accept and embrace this fact. I mean, you fart on cats, flash your boobs to strangers on Skype and you get angry at boyfriends when they are too tired to give you sex. Also, you believe a ghost tried to have sex with you and you backed it up with a reference to Baywatch.

Me: It was only one cat and only one stranger. I don’t like not having sex and I just think that when you get the chills it means you’re having sex with a ghost–I saw it on Baywatch.

Sara: Listen, there are plenty more reasons and I am just saying, you’re great, smart and beautiful and the more you accept your unique self, the better.

Me: I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning to sail my unique ship. I’ve got this.

Sara: Theeere she is.

How I know I need a vacation.

28 May

My house is in a very “unique” part of Baltimore called Hampden. There are characters everywhere and sometimes I sit alone on my porch, watch them and think to myself, “What the fucking fuck!?!”

Well, yesterday I was outside weeding and overheard one of my “unique” neighbors talking on the phone. He has a raging boner for me. I kind of enjoy that fact (not many dudes have a raging boner for me), so sometimes I walk outside, bend over to pick up my paper, smile and say something cute. He usually replies with something that reminds me that he has a raging boner for me and I get disgusted/secretly enjoy it and then I move on with my day. Have I mentioned, by the way, that I haven’t had sex since 2011? Because I haven’t had sex since 2011.

Anyway, yesterday I was looking forward to messing with him, but he wasn’t paying attention to me. Suddenly, I heard him say,

“O win lil sexee an’ me wint downy oshun citee it took frevr t’git uvr de Baybrij”

Translation: “When Little Sexy and I went to Ocean City,  it took an extended period of time to drive over the Bay Bridge.”

Who is ‘Little Sexy?’ I thought to myself, is he over me? 

Then he hung up the phone and called her name. “lil sexee c’mere!”

I stood and watched, waiting to see who exactly had stolen the heart of my white trash possible future husband. His 6-year-old daughter then skipped outside and he gave her an adornment of noogies. I sighed with relief, which was followed by utter shock that I even cared in the first place, which was only then followed by the realization that the man nicknamed his daughter “Little Sexy.”

I need to go on a date with a real man and take a vacation to a far away place, people. I’m not letting go of my class just yet!

Name That Porn Star!

24 May

I have learned a lot about men over the past few years simply from sitting with two adult men at lunch everyday. Sometimes I leave the table feeling like a man, sometimes I leave enjoying the banter and other times I leave the table feeling like kicking some nuts.

Usually they pick on me or talk about movies, naked people on HBO or women. Today we discussed porn (ahh yes, my favorite lunchtime topic) and  made porn names for each other. It is common knowledge that to make your porn name, you combine the name of your first pet  (or middle name) and the street you grew up on. That would make my porn name “Tilly Dulaney.” I think that could work. Then we decided to try it with our first name combined with an alcohol or mixed drink. Mine was an obvious pun choice of “Lauren Liqueur.” What’s yours?

The conversation then lead into “who has the higher porn star IQ,” which of course resulted in the creation a game show called “Name That  Porn Star!”

Rules: A third-party (me) will print 14 photos of porn stars and the boys will use a buzzer downloaded on their smart phones to buzz in as quickly as possible with the answer. The prize will be a bottle of Ron de Jeremy rum (ron is spanish for rum….how clever of you, Ron). 

Creepy.

Normally I wouldn’t participate in such an event, but I volunteered for this. Why? Because they didn’t say it has to be all women. I put a few normal women in, sure, but the rest were weird-looking girls, an old porn star and a couple of chicks with pun names. I also added twins, threw a number of nude male porn stars into the mix and added Screech from Saved by the Bell (because yes, I watched his sex tape “Screeched” out of curiosity and it was a genuine train wreck. I can’t ever unwatch that).

Anyway, I thought it would be funny to do it that way instead of just printing pictures of hot women. My porn star IQ is now probably higher than the both of them combined…so maybe I will keep the Ron de Jeremy for myself!

sexy 1900s steel conglomerate tycoon

23 May

Today someone searched the term “what is a steel conglomerate” and came upon my blog (no, not that kind of ‘came’). It is likely that this unfortunate wanderer of the internets was disappointed by what he found in my post from last year:

I always wait until the very last minute to get a Halloween costume together and every single year I regret it. Then, regardless of what I choose, it usually turns out to be one of those ridiculous sexy costumes that gals buy because we can because it’s Halloween. Last year I went as “sexy ghostbuster.” My cleavage was fully showcased and I wore the most insane heels. I ended up getting so wasted and my feet hurt so badly that my ex-boyfriend (male, normal looking ghostbuster) had to carry me over his shoulder 5 blocks back to the car….beer tears all the way. That poor guy.

“How are we going stay in place like this!!?” – Boobs

 

That is obviously not us, but my boobs did the same thing and much to my dismay, those puppies did not stay in place. My man kept calling me “Nipples McGillicutty.”

I brought up that story recently and my friend Jesse shared this video with me:

 

 

Next Halloween I want to have a party and be “sexy 1900s steel conglomerate tycoon.” I have a preeeeetty good feeling about it, and hey, maybe I’ll meet my future husband that night and we will have a funny story to tell.

Thanks, Bird!

20 May

I don’t normally participate, but I wanted to say thank you to my pal Bird for nominating me for The Very Inspiring Blogger Award. I’m so flattered by your kind comments and glad that my stupidity inspires you 😉

If I did participate, I would pass this on to Simon because he is a rollicking good time.

 

 

7 things about me…

1. I don’t think I’m inspiring.

2. I put on shimmery lip gloss when I’m nervous.

3. Every now and again I enjoy a cigar.

4. I have never eaten a hard taco.

5. My favorite Beatles album is Revolver.

6. One time I skyped with a guy I’ve never met while he was in a work meeting. The other people couldn’t see me so I kept flashing him to make him uncomfortable. It was so much fun.

7. I think farts are pretty much the funniest thing ever.

 

Who wants to take my 2012 virginity?

18 May

It’s happening again–the mens wanna get with me. To be honest, I hate it when my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard because it’s always a weird mix of sex fiends and complete dorks.

All those fuckers are lined up around the block and they only want 1 thing–my 2012 virginity. Yes, it has been awhile, and it’s about time I give it up. Which one of those lucky fellas will it be? It’s going to be hard, but tomorrow I make my choice.

Will it be you? Yeaaah, you would like that, wouldn’t you? I bet you’re looking forward to bending me over my desk and showing me how good you are at your “sexy” man stuff. One minute of ecstasy never sounded so good.

I’ll do anything. you. want. First, though, you’ll have to get me nice and liquored up so I take off my clothes (a cheap bottle of wine should do it).

Now…first my heels, then my shirt…my skirt…. followed by my

Miraclesuit

Ahh..nice to breathe again….and oh baby, you’ll just lose your mind when I take off my

I know how you like seeing hard nipples. All the time. My left one is a little slow, but I want to keep you satisfied.

Oh, and  please just ignore my  “my breast friend” cooling patches–it gets hot in that body suit….

…and finally, you’ll lick you lips when I remove my leopard print booty pop panties.

It best be perky if you have to stare at it, darling. I’ll just keep on my makeup until you pass out.

Sexy Saturday, here I come (and if I don’t, I guess while you’re snoring I can just go ahead and take care of that myself)!

far out!

17 May

I received my 1,000th like today. Aw, thanks guys! I feel like I won a prize. I wish the prize was that I could invite all of you to a 3-day drunken beach party/writing seminar. I think we should do it. We will have a few speakers and development sessions followed by some group work and creative writing exercises. At sunset, the poets will have a poetry orgy. How fun!

At some point during the party, because it is my dream, I might force all of you to recreate the opening from Beach Blanket Bingo:

 

 

It would be the absolute ultimate! I hope you all know how to shake your hips.

On Friday night we can have a story time bonfire and a luau on Saturday night. The entire thing will be catered and there will be a full bar. We could meet, learn and have fun. I’m getting excited just thinking about it!!

One evening, my modern Moondoggie will sing this to me (it’s my party so what I say, goes):

 

 

Would you come to my party? I hope so. If I had the funding, I would make it a reality.

 

In memory.

14 May

 

I would like to say I am sorry for the time we fought and I got all worked up and did not know what to do so I farted on your cat and shouted, “Take that!”

Hey, it lightened the mood and we both laughed so hard that we couldn’t breathe. Isn’t that the best kind of laughter?

Later, you told me I should post about it, but I never did because, I mean, who does that? Well, I guess I do. Hey, I never said I was perfect.

I am sure you’re having a nice laugh in heaven right now remembering that one.

Life will be forever different after today and you know what? I have never been so scared. I will miss the way you used to hold my shoulders, look in my eyes and say, “Be brave, you’ve got this.  I’ve seen what you can do.”

Be brave.

I think that today, after your funeral, I am going to go home and hug your stinky cat, run in the pouring rain and sing every song from Grease 2 at the very top of my lungs. That was our favorite.

Rest easy, Dane. Wow, I am going to miss you.

Wedding fun.

13 May

I went to a wedding last night and wore a pretty halter dress. I didn’t wear underwear with it because I have managed to tuck this particular dress into my underwear on two separate occasions.

I avoided tucking my dress, but I didn’t avoid the wind blowing it up so the 4 guys walking behind me could see my butt. I also didn’t avoid spilling water all over my chest.

So embarrassing. Sometimes I feel like if the personalities of Jess from New Girl and Bridget Jones reproduced, they would create me:

 

The future Mrs. Arthur Fonzarelli in 2010, post underwear tuck.

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