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Best Questions Men Have Asked Me (Since I Started This Ridiculous Blog)

23 Jul

I have received some very important, thought-provoking questions from my male readers. I found the following questions to be the most captivating and thought it would be a disservice to you all not to share them. Enjoy.

 

1. Q: Do you have standards when choosing a man to sleep with?

A: Really? What an odd question. Wow. Yes. I absolutely have standards.

 

2. Q: If we fly you to the south of France, will you have sex with my wife and I on our anniversary? It would be in 2013.

A: Love is a beautiful thing, no? So sorry though, I’m pretty busy that year.

 

3. Q: Did you really find out how many licks it takes to get to the tootsie roll center of a tootsie pop?

A: Yes, and they sent me a certificate. I was 10 years old. Are you still turned on?

 

4. Q: Do you want to have a threesome with my wife and I? I’m not going to fly you to Florida, but I can take you to Disney World.

A: OH BOY, DISNEY WORLD! I need to find my autograph book!

 

5. Q: Would you be freaked out if I came to Baltimore to look for you without telling you I was coming?

A: Yes… and just so you know, I have mace and I bite.

 

6. Q: I read your interview on Crazy Chicks Club. Regarding the question, “what would you do if you were a man for a day,” do you really think all men don’t make their beds, fart a lot, walk around without shirts and impregnate every girl they know?

A: That’s just what I would do if I were a man for a day. “I have a penis,” I’d say, “I’ll do as I please” and then I’d saunter around and flex my muscles. Oh, and I’d call everyone “brah” and wear my sunglasses like I own the joint. It would be great.

 

7. Q: Do you have any Greek in you?

A: No.

Q: Do you want some?

A: No.

 

8. Q: Will you send me a picture of your ass? I’m an ass man.

A: The set up for that seems kind of ridiculous, don’t you think? I don’t have a timer on my camera and I refuse to google “How to take a picture of my own ass.” It all seems a bit time-consuming. Just saying.

Reply: It only takes a couple of minutes. See? Here’s mine: (he sent a picture of his ass).

 

9. Q: Did you really show your boobs to get ice cream at an ice cream truck?

A: Listen, guy. It was hot outside, I really wanted a Nutty Buddy and I didn’t have cash. There’s nothing further to discuss here.

 

I have yet to receive a #10 worthy of the spot. I will let you know when that guy steps up to the plate and we can all bask in the glory of him together.

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Drugstore Exchange

10 Jul

A 15-year-old girl bought condoms at the drugstore at 9:30 pm last night. She smiled as she walked out the door. Behind her in line was a kind of hot police officer and behind the kind of hot officer was yours truly.

 

Kind of hot police officer to saleswoman: Looks like she’s going to have a good time tonight.

Saleswoman: What?

Kind of hot police officer: I can’t believe you just sold condoms to that little girl.

Saleswoman: I can’t turn her down. She’s a teenager, at least she’s being safe.

Me: Teen pregnancy rates are really high around here, I say good for her.

Kind of hot police officer: I would have been embarrassed buying condoms at that age.

Me: Sounds like someone was a wuss when he was a teenager.

Kind of hot police officer (giving me the evil eye): What does she know about ribbed condoms?

Me: Enough to be buying them, unless it was a fortunate accident and tonight she will find out the benefits of ribbed condoms.

Girl behind me in line: What?

Kind of hot police officer: She shouldn’t be allowed to buy condoms. I would have said no if she tried to buy them from me.

Me: What? First of all, there is no age restriction on condom sales and secondly, that girl is being safe. In fact, I’m going run after her and applaud her. I’m going to give her a high five for having safe sex!

Kind of hot police officer: What if she were your daughter?

Me: If she were my daughter and I found out after the fact, I would simply ask if she used protection, if she’s okay and if she has any questions.

Kind of hot police officer: Whatever ladies, have a good night.

Saleswoman: Honey, you sassed that officer.

Me: I know, I got kind of fired up.

Saleswoman: Well hey, please don’t run after that girl and clap, she might get scared.

Me: She’s awesome, but I woooon’t, I won’t.

__________________
Also, I saw a couple of Sesame Street updates today. Here’s my share–it’s “The Count Censored.”

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Weirdest Day of My Life

7 Jul

When the bombs went off on July 7th, 2005, I was 20 years old and working at the London Eye as a VIP Hospitality Executive (I provided the “ultimate VIP experience” to famous people, stag parties, marriage proposals etc…).

I remember that we received word of what happened before the public did because we were a possible target. I remember being ready to make a run for it, but we weren’t allowed to leave. I had two jobs that morning–the first was, as instructed by MI5, to tell the people in the area that we were shutting down for the day due to technical difficulties (I didn’t lie to anyone). Then, I was told to search the bathroom for anything suspicious while we waited for the sniffer dogs to arrive. I had no idea what I was doing, but I searched around and tried to look important.

When we were released, I walked out of the building and saw tons of people pouring into the streets. A hot guy I worked with offered to take me home. His car was parked a couple of miles away, so I took off my heels, he took my hand and we walked.

I remember feeling like a little kid that day. I remember feeling confused by the blank look on people’s faces even though they were all probably just as confused and scared as I was. I remember my co-worker having to pull me away when I looked down the street and saw debris from that fucking bus and the blood on the wall.

Days later, I remember seeing posters for missing persons.

On July 9th, we were back at work. I remember reading an interview with a woman who said when she got off the bus, she saw “a pile of bodies in the back.” It made me sick to my stomach.

We all read stories like that in the news and we look it over. We have to, you know? We can’t emotionally connect to every terrible thing that happens. It’s weird. I just think it’s a really weird thing we do as fragile humans.

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Talk Nerdy to Me

29 Jun

 

While I may not look like a nerd, I have always been one at the core of my being. My inner nerd adores Shakespeare, knows the General Prologue to The Canterbury Tales in Middle English, loves video games and almost got an Elvish tattoo.

Because I am one, I have been known on occasion to fancy a nerd. I like the way their brains work. Also, many of you may not know that they are actually quite stellar in the bedroom because they aim to please and it’s easy to connect with them (perhaps this isn’t true about all nerds, but I am going on what I know and what I’ve heard).

There are several nerdy guys for whom I’ve felt the jones in my bones:

 

1. Liam. He’s an intelligent, lanky IT guy with an accent. He has mad sexy computer skills and a serious case of tall dick. I’d still have his babies.

2. Ben. He has super thick glasses and loves himself some Dance Dance Revolution. When the Wii came out, we played Zelda for 17 hours straight, slept, and then did the same thing the very next day.

3. Jim. He built his computer and he knows a lot about space. He used to buy me wine and talk about space for hours. It was hot. He also has a case of tall dick. He looked a lot like Anthony Edwards in Revenge of the Nerds.

4. Derek. This guy plays the violin, has a boisterous laugh and is a walking encyclopedia. He’s an IT guy in my building and sometimes I “have a problem with my computer” so he will come talk to me. He blushes a lot.

5. Ashton. He likes all things Japan and plays the flute in a video game band. Everyone loves a flutist. Also, he likes The Lord of the Rings. Bonus!

 

So, does any one else have a thing for nerds? Does anyone have a shirt that says “Frodo Lives!”? No? Oh, well then, me either……

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things they want me to do in bed.

26 Jun

Not those things. These things:

 

 

Once upon a time, my friend and I went to the bar, got drunk and she spent the night. We went up to my room and she watched me do my evening routine (above).

 

K: This is the least sexy thing I have ever watched.

Me: What? They say to use the Biofreeze and dog bone for my neck, the cast thing to keep my arm straight while I sleep, the sock thing goes under it and the green band so my hair doesn’t get in my face and make me break out.

 

Then I went and looked in the mirror and I was not hot at all, so I did a dance.
 

K: It’s still not sexy.

Me (air humping): Boys love it.

K: When’s the last time a boy saw your room?

Me (still dancing): 2011.

K: We are going to fix this, and when we do, no Biofreeze.

Me (doing some form of dougie): I know, I’ve already learned that lesson.

K: Poor guy.

Me (still douging): Poor me too! Don’t worry though, a hero will soon save me from sexual deprivation, I feel him coming.

K: Hah, coming.

Me (more douging): Come, let’s dougie.

 

And so we did, at 3 am, to no music.

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Men, Muscles and Money, Oh My!

18 Jun

 

I thought that perhaps the media was exaggerating how beautiful/ridiculous the people are in South Beach, but I was wrong. On my first day there, I went to the beach alone and observed gorgeous, ripped dudes in expensive sunglasses hitting on girls and strutting around talking about sports and how awesome they are at being lawyers. In the past, you would have found me disgusted, bitter and annoyed by this entire show, but I laughed and actually enjoyed it. A couple of them talked to me and I even thought some of them were hot. Yep, I said hot.

How is this possible? Well, I learned that there is a huge difference between this Lauren and past Lauren. Past Lauren was a bitter girl who thought she was ugly and didn’t deserve good things and she didn’t know what she wanted and would have accepted anything, so she attracted all the wrong situations and got confused when guys were total dicks. She felt like a victim of douchebaggery and started hating and judging all guys in general, making relationships with men frustrating for both parties.

Current Lauren loves herself and she loves men, too. I realized while in Florida, that one of the major steps it took to get here is highlighted in this article given to me by my friend’s boyfriend:

Every woman needs a ‘gaggle’ of men

Single ladies, you need to read that article. Married people, what do you think?

I have many men in my life, in many enriching ways, who are all teaching me about myself and my needs and desires and leading me closer to the guy and relationship I want. My “gaggle” has taught me so much about men, too (they aren’t all jerks, and even the tough looking ones may be soft underneath those superman pecs).

I guess the point I am trying to make is that d-bags happen. Once you have confidence and know what you want, it’s easier to gain respect and not feel like a victim. You can even have fun and find out that some of them are admiring you and not raping you with their eyes, just as I discovered while watching and interacting with these fine, peculiar specimens as they strutted around on the beach like macho birds.

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thoughts from BWI airport

11 Jun

 

I am sitting by myself at the airport, people watching like a champ, and thinking about how funny it is that many of these people are trying so hard to hide that they are a little weird. I am happy to be a little weird. You all (creative people/bloggers) have helped me embrace this loving weirdness and I am forever grateful. Thank you. I weird you guys. ♥ 

I am meant to embrace it and 2012 brought me here. Right now I am a raw nerve. Maybe those of us who are coming unglued were being held together by Elmer’s School Glue and this year is putting us back together with something like Gorilla Glue (or whatever is strong–I am no glue connoisseur).

Okay….time to board a plane and get crunk. It is Monday, after all. Also, look at this funny ass cat:  

 

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How I finally decided to book my vacation.

6 Jun

I can honestly say that nothing funny or even partially delightful has happened for a week. This is a funk (and not the good kind). I had a couple crappy medical issues this week and got blood work this morning. I have tiny veins and I hate having blood taken because of it. The technician talked to my arm passive aggressively for a few minutes and we found that the 4th try is a charm.

Then came the urine sample–my least favorite part of the whole Quest Diagnostics experience because I always manage to pee on myself. I walked to the bathroom, opened the door and a man was standing there with his ween out and his pants around his ankles. I laughed and shut the door.

As I waited for him to come out, I realized I have seen 3 dicks recently, but not one of them was there for my enjoyment. Seriously, how upsetting. My body is angry at me and I don’t have a man’s dick to enjoy for myself. What am I doing here, anyway? What is my life?

So, I went home and bought a plane ticket to Miami. Sure, that doesn’t change anything. My body will still be angry and there won’t be a dick for me to enjoy in Florida either, but at least it will be happening on the beach and not in Baltimore City. I have never needed a break more than I need this one. I leave Monday.

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Haiku–Charm City Style

4 Jun

Thank you Elliot (brainsplats.wordpress.com) for the Versatile Blogger Award. I wrote him a haiku about Baltimore and then forced four scientists to do the same because Elliot enjoys both the occasional haiku and the HBO series The Wire. I wrote the last one. I didn’t give specific instructions, making this a little more interesting than I thought it would be.

 

Haiku–Charm City Style

W. North Ave, 1100 blk. Photo taken by my friend/the creator of charmcityvacancy.com

Perfume to my dog.
Loves to rub his face in it,
dog park, human poop.

Danger is at hand.
Street-walker prowling about
as I am harassed.

Rushing to our cars,
the thrill makes us feel alive.
Locked doors, safe again.

Scattered chicken bones
stranded along the sidewalks
of west Baltimore.

“Don’t be afraid, babe,”
he says, holding a syringe.
I walk more briskly.

 
Normally I don’t do awards, but if I did, I would give this prestigious award/shoutout to Madame Weebles because she is a funny, sarcastic, smart lady and I like her taste in hot dead guys. Also, Mr. Weebles is from Maryland, so he is probably a hip dude.

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Joys of Owning a Townhouse

1 Jun

 

Despite my strange Baltimore neighborhood, I love my unique 1940s house and I’m glad I bought it. My favorite room is the retro basement with wood paneling and shuffleboard vinyl tiles.

The best part about the house is that I don’t hear anything through the walls from my neighbors because there is an old married couple living on each side.

I have always assumed that in return, they hear nothing that I do. I didn’t know if that was true until today. When I woke this morning, I sneezed and my next door neighbor said “bless you” so I felt inclined to reply with “thank you” and he took it to the next level with a “you’re welcome.” I sat there for a moment, wide-eyed, jaw on the floor, wondering what else they’ve heard.

These things include, but are definitely not limited to:

  • Intense singing
  • Loud drunk talking
  • Beer tears
  • Pep talks I give to myself in the mirror
  • Weird Skype  sessions
  • Theme songs I make up for myself
  • The cusses I yell at insects that have invaded my personal space
  • Dirty talk
  • Blog posts being read aloud before I click ‘publish’
  • Evenings spent practicing different types of laughter. I dabble, but my favorites are sexy laugh, cute giggle, guffaw, evil laugh, stupid blonde girl laugh,  Muttley from Wacky Races, Beavis and Butthead, and that bashful buzzard from Loony Toons:
 
My friends, I shall remain forever horrified. Have a good weekend.

 

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