Chris is giving me exactly what I want for my birthday! Hope you all can make it!
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What I Learned at 27
30 SepMy weekend was relatively lame and I’m sorry to report that I have no stories about me falling down or kissing all the wrong men. So, here’s another list. Yaaaaaay.
Tomorrow I turn 28. Here are 27 things I learned this year:
1. Drinking alone isn’t so awful.
2. Toe hair is no joke.
3. Hula hooping is fun.
4. Everyone is going to die, so don’t take your loved ones for granted.
5. I need to follow my heart, no matter how stupid it makes me look.
6. If someone doesn’t treat me well, fuck them (“middle finger” sense, not “penis inside me” sense).
7. Not that I’m complaining, but most men on the internet are fucking freaks (okay, yes, I’m complaining).
8. Being alone isn’t half as scary as I thought.
9. Birthday sex is so overrated…probably. (Work with me here, I’m trying to make myself feel better.)
10. If I leave my car unlocked, a prostitute will have sex in it.
11. I can’t get high and listen to Nights in White Satin because it makes me feel like I am in a movie.
12. I’m not weird, I’m limited edition.
13. Despite what I was hoping, the majority of men really do think with their dicks.
14. Everyone gives advice about love and it’s all different. I appreciate the help, but I can’t always listen–I need to live my life!
15. One can lose a lot of weight by dancing every day.
16. Doing the robot on Skype is hilarious to the right naked man, and all the other naked men will not find it funny.
17. I’m romantic and that’s okay.
18. Laughing is SO MUCH FUN.
19. It is possible to live without cable.
20. The past is past and what happened, happened.
21. Living in love isn’t easy at first, but it changes thinking patterns and IS fabulous.
22. Never stop being grateful.
23. Love should feel good.
24. Tequila and grapefruit juice are delicious together.
25. Being married to me will be fun and super sexy (I hang out with me, I would know).
26. It’s okay to be a funny girl.
27. I still have no idea what I’m doing!
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Modern Faerie Tale
27 SepRecently I overheard two women being bratty about the gifts they receive from their husbands. It reminded me of a certain birthday gift I received for my 25th birthday.
I dated a guy who knew me like a book. For two years he drove me to work every day, we talked all day at work and we spent all of our evenings together. We brushed our teeth together, watched TV together and even showered together. He knew my habits and routines. He even knew my specific, classy taste in jewelry.
When he asked me what I wanted for my 25th birthday I said, “Surprise me.” So, this is what I got:
1. Yes, what you are seeing is a necklace with a locket that says, “I believe in Faeries.”
2. Yes, that is a small vial of “Faerie dust.”
3. Yes, that is the nerdy/archaic “ae” spelling.
4. No, I do not believe in “faeries,” nor have I ever expressed even a mild interest in such mythical beings.
_____
How would you react in this situation? I laughed because I thought it was a joke. It wasn’t a joke, and he spent the rest of the day moping around the house because I laughed.
I think we both learned important lessons that day and I invite you to take this knowledge with you when you go–
Women: Quit your bitching. If a man asks you what you want, tell him or narrow it down because guess what? It doesn’t matter how well he knows you, he may get you a goddamn fairy necklace.
Men: Unless your lady absolutely fucking adores fairies, there isn’t a single circumstance that warrants purchasing a fairy necklace. If she isn’t bleeding fairy dust, don’t get that necklace! Do you understand me? Don’t you fucking do it!
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Thank You Dad, Mom, Alison and Rod Stewart
26 Sep
As you are aware, my 28th birthday is Monday. I’ve been thinking about life and all the people I should thank for helping to shape me as a human being. As it turns out, there are only about four people to thank, so why not do so in a post.
1 and 2. Patricia and Dennis. They made a mistake in their late 30s and I was the result. You’re welcome, world.
3. Alison. The friend I’ve had since I was 11 who never judges anything I do, and I don’t judge anything she does. When we were kids, while all the other 11 year old girls were doing normal things, Alison and I were in the back of my mom’s blue station wagon shouting the lyrics to Rod Stewart songs while eating chicken nuggets and not giving even a single fuck. It was weird. We’re still pretty weird.
4. Rod Stewart. He taught me that young hearts gotta run free, be free, live free and that time is on, time is on my side. He also taught me that I have a thing for older men. You’re welcome, older men.
I am going to shout the song below in the car on the way home from work today. I bestow upon thine ears, the gift of Rod Stewart (and please check out the drummer):
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I Want It Now
21 SepMy birthday is coming up soon and since it is very possible that my dad reads my blog, I would like to share my birthday list so he and my mom can start shopping. Don’t worry, daddy, I promise not to get too Veruca Salt on your ass this year.
1. Money for a tank of gas.
2. Shoes.
Tell mom I’m an 8 1/2
3. A clever teapot.
I just want to tell you so much…I love this teapot
4. This Pasotti Ombrelli. It’s like a fucking scepter with a pretty umbrella on the end. I don’t own an umbrella, and I’m in need of a scepter, so this will be perfect.
Only $215.00
5. Underpants. I needs ’em (seriously, I haven’t worn underwear in like a month).
It’s true
6. GIMMIE THIS PIG.
I shall name her Gertrude
7. A funny boyfriend who enjoys copious amounts of sexual activities and doesn’t mind killing the spiders in my basement. He should also like wine, cheese and hugging me.
A silhouette attempt
8. I ask every year, so I’m not sure why you still haven’t gotten me a fucking beautiful unicorn.
Look, two fucking beautiful unicorns. I want the less feisty one.
9. Lastly, Blackwood Distillers makes a triple distilled vodka that is ice-filtered through Nordic birch charcoal and then is passed through a sand of crushed diamonds and other gems. Price? $1,060,000. It’s so beautiful that I probably won’t even cry or text an ex-boyfriend when I drink it (just kidding, I probably will).
This is necessary for your daughter’s happiness, daddy. Love you!
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What’s in Your Bag?
12 SepBoss: Can I move your suitcase?
Me: It’s my bag. Sure.
Boss: Why is it kind of heavy?
Me: I usually have random, useful things in there.
Boss: Like what? A weapon?
Me: I’m not sure what’s in there right now. Let’s see.
The current contents of my bag (minus keys and lip gloss):
Exhibit A.
Boss: Really? A giant wallet, screwdriver, Under Armour shirt and shorts, banana, bottle of water, purple pen and hand lotion?
Me: You never know what you might need. Usually I have a mini Kleenex packet, a hair tie and a stain removal pen in there as well.
Boss: You’re a mess. By the way, there’s a young, new Italian guy named Donato on the 6th floor if you want to meet him.
Me: Is he cute? And I am not a mess! What if I’m hungry? What if I have dry hands? Go ask your wife what’s in her bag right now.
Boss: Okay…and yes, he’s 25 and very handsome. Blue eyes.
He leaves and comes back 20 minutes later
Boss: She has a wallet, keys, scissors, pen, toothpaste, pair of shoes and an orange.
Me: I rest my case…and sign me up for Donato.
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Lament for My Squeaky Bra
10 Sep
Sing to me, O Muse, the cause of
a squeaky bra on the day I
presented my pimped-out PowerPoint
of which I was once so proud.
Not pearls, heels nor shaky laser pen
could take the attention from
these blushing cheeks
as each step bore the betrayal of creak
and squeak.
O, bra most exquisite!
What awkwardness thou hast provided
whilst supporting my superior bosom.
Continue not this costly crime against me,
for our intimate time
together has been not long
and I do not know if you can be fixed with WD-40.
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Drunk Girl Writing
7 SepAndrew of Shut Up Dad inspired me to try drunk writing. So, here I am. I was hoping there would be a masterpiece in my brain by now, but I’ve got nothing and now I’m just a little wasted and feeling a whole lotta freaky. Thanks, Andrew.
I have decided to take this opportunity to have a little chat with the menfolk. Ladies, this is where your reading ends for today. Sorry. Here, watch this video of cute baby animals whilst the men and I continue:
Gentlemen,
Come, gather ’round. HEY, Le Clown, eyes up here.
Don’t worry, I shall present my thoughts and queries in list form for ye who supposedly sport a short attention span. Right, let’s dive in.
1. Just because I’m kind of a dude, it does not mean I want to hear about your balls. Don’t tell me stories about them unless you have a medical problem and need to vent. Otherwise, I’m serious. Stop with the ball chatter.
2. Unless there has been a sexual agreement, don’t ask me or your possible future second (or third) wife on a first date to your house. Bitches, please. Show some respect and at least take us out so we can get our drank on.
3. Our nipples will remain attached to our bodies, just like yours, so please stop trying to suck them off. Also, please don’t turn them like knobs. I am not a door. There is no Narnia inside this closet.
4. Don’t fart when we’re in the shower together. Are you people kidding me with that? I think farts are awesome and all, but H2O (as water vapor) easily attaches to methane molecules by the chlorine atom, or the sulfur released from bacteria, making your butt smell attach more easily to my nostrils and subsequently sustaining that foulness for a longer period than when we are, say, in the car. Enjoy your brand on your own shower time, fellas.
5. FYI: Most of us prefer your medium-sized weens to the giant weens. Promise.
6. Would a blowjob be positively enhanced if I switched between coldish and very warmish liquids? Just curious.
7. Thank you for all of your kind words and funny comments over the past few months. My entire workplace must think I’m insane as I boisterously laugh at your wit and questionable humor.
8. Regarding the art of manscaping, you all seem to be doing well with that. We approve.
9. Please go do something nice for your lady if you have one. You owe her for farting in the shower.
10. Thank you for joining El Jimador and I for this chat. Good talk. Time to pass out.
Love,
Lauren Ann (I included my middle name, that’s how you know I mean business).
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Young Marlon Brando
4 Sep
I was making my way into work this morning when a guy who looks like young Marlon Brando grabbed my arm:
Young Marlon Brando: Hi…
Me (pulling arm back): Hi?
Young Marlon Brando: Sorry, this is weird, but do you want to meet me for a drink after work?
Me: Does anyone ever tell you that you look like young Marlon Brando?
Young Marlon Brando: HEY STELLA!!
Me: Hahaha, that’s a yes. I’m Lauren. Do you work on campus?
Young Marlon Brando: No, I’m here on business. Will you meet me?
Me: How about Camden Pub at 5:15?
Young Marlon Brando: Looking forward to it.
And then he kissed my hand and walked away. Smooth. I didn’t get his name. Those eyes. Smooth indeed.
My, young Marlon Brando, what sexy lips you have….is it getting hot in here? No? I guess I did have a lot of coffee, which would explain why I’m so nervous and jittery. Just breathe, Lauren, you don’t even know that guy’s name. I need to keep it together. KEEP IT TOGETHER. I need to keep my legs together. Oh god, I should have worn panties today.
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27
Aug
The Three Hot Chicks on Porn review the 1940s vintage XXX sex film “Peeping Tom.” The nine minute film is black and white and has no sound. It is set to Looney Tunes sounding music.
The Three Hot Chicks are:
Carolina of Staked in the Heart
La La of Tales of a Charm City Chick
Maggie
The action begins with a woman flouncing unceremoniously on a bed in an ugly room and taking off layers of clothes.
La La: “Nothing good ever begins in a dirty motel room.”
Maggie: “I’m waiting for four old white men to show up and start singing Sweet Adeline.”
After undressing, the woman picks up a book and starts reading. She lays back on linens that look like they haven’t been washed since the motel opened.
La La: “She’s wearing granny panties and the bra I wore in the 6th grade.”
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La La
Dog lover. Storyteller. Urbanite-Suburbanite. Poet. Music addict. Editor. Explorer. Wine enthusiast (Malbec, please). Anglophile. People watcher. My dream job? Writer, or a Tom Jones back up singer. Well, not Tom Jones now, but Tom Jones in the early '70s...so let's go with the writing thing.
tales of a charm city chick 