Friends, I have good news. I met a guy who I can stand to be around for more than five minutes!
Those of you who know me know that I'm super picky about who I grace with my presence. Not many possess qualities interesting enough to hold my attention for an extended period of time, but this guy worked his way through the maze I've built and sparked a little flame in my heart ... and pants. :)
I slipped and mentioned my blog the first time we met. Oopsie! He hounded me until I told him more, so I thought what the eff; he should find out now the twisted mess he's getting himself into, so I gave him the deets. He's read through my demented, incredibly un-PC posts and wasn't scared off. Score one for Spiffy! Question ... when should I tell him about my Furry fetish?? I kid ...
So, a couple of weeks ago I was out with my girlfriends watching some live music when an I ran into old ex-boyfriend. This guy was an abusive piece of shit who, let's just say, wasn't very nice to me. I've long since forgiven him for the pain he once caused me, but my stomach turns every time I see his smug face. When he saw me, he came up and shook my hand and introduced his girlfriend. I wanted to warn her to run as fast as she could, but I figured she already knew, so I left it alone.
The next day the idiot had the audacity to friend request me on Facebook. Seriously? I may forgive you and shake your hand, D-bag, but we'll never be friends. Facebook or otherwise.
OK. Ranting finished. I'm off to get my zombie fix. I'll work on some better stories, friends. Peace. Out.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Like a virgin ... HEY!
I haven't felt like a virgin in quite a while, but I had high hopes that I could revisit my fully-hymened youth at the Madonna concert on Tuesday. Unfortunately, I left feeling freshly fucked without so much as a kiss ...
This was Madge's first trip to KC, so decided to drop $60 (cheap seats) and make memories with my gal pals. We had a great time, lots of laughs and lots of gawking and interesting Madonna get-ups, but I left with a feeling of "meh" instead of "FUCK YEAH!"
I was hoping for some stuff from the 80s and 90s and while she sang a couple of "oldies," the majority of her two hour show was on her new stuff, of which I'm not a big fan. That's my only bitch. She looked and sounded FANTASTIC, had a great stage show, and laid down some sick visuals (blood spattered back drop as she "shot her lovers in the head." For a minute I thought she may have extracted the lyrics from my head ... :).
The first half of the show I spent shifting back and forth trying to see the show around a woman I've dubbed "old lady boogie pants." She stood at the oddest times and did what can only be described as a gypsy sway as she shook her scarf around her head.
To top it off, she had big, teased hair and a bedazzled jacket. It took all that I had not to "accidentally" push her to see if the bedazzled jacket was heavy enough to keep her rolling all the way down to section 132. I kid ...
In the midst of revisiting my youth, I moved to a new apartment. I'm convinced that as soon as movers see that it's just a single girl, they take their sweet ass time and think it's OK to waste time flirting.
If you recall the tale of my move last year with "Black tooth Kenny," I was bound and determined not to be swindled into giving one of the movers my phone number just to shut them up and get them out of my place.
Thankfully, I was not placed in that position this year, but I did have to lay the smack down on "Chatty Manny" who spent more time trying to be witty than moving my shit. I finally told him that I was paying him, he needed to stop talking and work! I'M SPIFFY BITCH!
Four hours and $416 later, they left me to re-build my life in a big, white box with one closet. If you couldn't tell by the tone, this apartment wasn't one of my best choices, but I'll make it work like I always do.
On an interesting side note, I found out my old friend "Meat" lives in the apartments right behind me. Who knows, I may end up getting "into the groove" and crossing the "borderline" after all (insert Madonna song references with sexual undertones ... ).
Out.
This was Madge's first trip to KC, so decided to drop $60 (cheap seats) and make memories with my gal pals. We had a great time, lots of laughs and lots of gawking and interesting Madonna get-ups, but I left with a feeling of "meh" instead of "FUCK YEAH!"
I was hoping for some stuff from the 80s and 90s and while she sang a couple of "oldies," the majority of her two hour show was on her new stuff, of which I'm not a big fan. That's my only bitch. She looked and sounded FANTASTIC, had a great stage show, and laid down some sick visuals (blood spattered back drop as she "shot her lovers in the head." For a minute I thought she may have extracted the lyrics from my head ... :).
The first half of the show I spent shifting back and forth trying to see the show around a woman I've dubbed "old lady boogie pants." She stood at the oddest times and did what can only be described as a gypsy sway as she shook her scarf around her head.
To top it off, she had big, teased hair and a bedazzled jacket. It took all that I had not to "accidentally" push her to see if the bedazzled jacket was heavy enough to keep her rolling all the way down to section 132. I kid ...
 |
| Note: this is not Old Lady Boogie Pants, but this is a reminder to never, ever wear a stupid hat like this. Or Bedazzle anything. |
If you recall the tale of my move last year with "Black tooth Kenny," I was bound and determined not to be swindled into giving one of the movers my phone number just to shut them up and get them out of my place.
Thankfully, I was not placed in that position this year, but I did have to lay the smack down on "Chatty Manny" who spent more time trying to be witty than moving my shit. I finally told him that I was paying him, he needed to stop talking and work! I'M SPIFFY BITCH!
Four hours and $416 later, they left me to re-build my life in a big, white box with one closet. If you couldn't tell by the tone, this apartment wasn't one of my best choices, but I'll make it work like I always do.
On an interesting side note, I found out my old friend "Meat" lives in the apartments right behind me. Who knows, I may end up getting "into the groove" and crossing the "borderline" after all (insert Madonna song references with sexual undertones ... ).
Out.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Rambling thoughts of a mad woman ...
I haven't written in a minute and for that, my fan and a half, I'm sorry. I haven't had much good to write about and I don't think this will be any different, but I'm going to write anyway.
I think I'm broken. Much like Chumbawamba, I've been knocked down before, but I could always get back up again. This time, though, I seem to have the legs of a drunk baby deer with a prosthetic stiletto hoof two sizes two big ... I can't get my footing. (Enjoy that visual) :).
I've met a couple of guys over the past couple of months, but no one who interests me enough to talk to again let alone see again. I'm pretty sure I'm the dented can on the shelf this time and for that, unfortunate men I've met, I am sorry. I'm sure you're all very nice people, I'm just not very nice at the moment.
Also, I worry that I may be on my way to alcoholism. OK, that's not true, but I did seriously consider drinking wine before work the other morning instead of coffee. Seriously. I mean think about it! Wouldn't a nice wine buzz start your morning off nicely? I may have to make up a story about my red teeth (I like kool-aid) and slurring speech (I'm tired), but I could sure get through back-to-back meetings with less of an urge to punch someone in the privates!
Wow, I'm a big Debbie Downer at the moment. Oh well. I'll close with this: is it wrong to seriously consider having a poop cake delivered to my ex for his birthday tomorrow? Do you think I could put enough icing on it and mix it with Devil's Food to cover the smell? He wasn't a big sweets person, so I'm not sure he'd fall for it, but it makes me happy thinking about him eating a big piece of shit cake!
I told you I wasn't very nice at the moment ...
I think I'm broken. Much like Chumbawamba, I've been knocked down before, but I could always get back up again. This time, though, I seem to have the legs of a drunk baby deer with a prosthetic stiletto hoof two sizes two big ... I can't get my footing. (Enjoy that visual) :).
I've met a couple of guys over the past couple of months, but no one who interests me enough to talk to again let alone see again. I'm pretty sure I'm the dented can on the shelf this time and for that, unfortunate men I've met, I am sorry. I'm sure you're all very nice people, I'm just not very nice at the moment.
Also, I worry that I may be on my way to alcoholism. OK, that's not true, but I did seriously consider drinking wine before work the other morning instead of coffee. Seriously. I mean think about it! Wouldn't a nice wine buzz start your morning off nicely? I may have to make up a story about my red teeth (I like kool-aid) and slurring speech (I'm tired), but I could sure get through back-to-back meetings with less of an urge to punch someone in the privates!
Wow, I'm a big Debbie Downer at the moment. Oh well. I'll close with this: is it wrong to seriously consider having a poop cake delivered to my ex for his birthday tomorrow? Do you think I could put enough icing on it and mix it with Devil's Food to cover the smell? He wasn't a big sweets person, so I'm not sure he'd fall for it, but it makes me happy thinking about him eating a big piece of shit cake!
I told you I wasn't very nice at the moment ...
Saturday, August 18, 2012
I went to Brazil and all I got was this lousy bald spot??
Forewarning: this one is vulgar. If you're a prude or a judger, just save yourself time and close now. :) If you can appreciate my sense of humor, read on!
Today was officially the closing ceremonies of "Bush Fest 2012." As with all good closing ceremonies, there was music (I'm pretty sure we jammed to some old school rap), tears (one word - RIP), and laughter (Jen was still drunk at 9am).
My co-competitor, Jen, and I made our way to the European Wax Center bright and early with one goal in mind: go bald, or go home!
When we parked, we saw this sign, inviting us to enter through the front door:
We appreciated the courtesy and free wax offer, after all, the competition has spanned a month and they had their work cut out for them, but Jen was quick to let them know that they need to show love for the back door as well (see below):
After the back door hijinx, we made our way inside and were promptly schooled on the difference between a "full" and a "brazilian" wax. Many of you may been under the same impression as I that a full was basically a "high and tight" and the brazilian was the "whole shebang," but actually, the only difference is the "butt strip."
Yes, ladies, for those of you with hairy taints, you can get that waxed for an additional $8. Thankfully, neither of us required a taint waxing, so we proceeded into our SEPARATE rooms with our very nice, patient and professional waxers.
I'll leave the details out, but I will say this: no other woman has been that up close and personal with my chocha. You think it's going to be awkward laying there, spread eagle getting wax spread all over your bits, but it really wasn't that bad.
Now, it's like I've got a shiny, new toy and no one to play with it! Thankfully, the "newness" shouldn't wear off for a few weeks, so we'll see what I can drum up. I am going on vacation to Cali in a couple of weeks ... Maybe a young, stoned, impressionable cougar-chasing surfer is in my future?? :)
I get $5 off when I refer a friend, so ladies if you're interested in going from "woogie" to "wow!" let me know. Guys, you can keep yourself manscaped as well, as long as it's above the waist. I'm sure there are some guys that have a "waxing their nads" fetish, but the European Wax Center is not the place for you! Take that shit down to Lola's Strip and Rip! :)
Until next time ...
Today was officially the closing ceremonies of "Bush Fest 2012." As with all good closing ceremonies, there was music (I'm pretty sure we jammed to some old school rap), tears (one word - RIP), and laughter (Jen was still drunk at 9am).
My co-competitor, Jen, and I made our way to the European Wax Center bright and early with one goal in mind: go bald, or go home!
When we parked, we saw this sign, inviting us to enter through the front door:
We appreciated the courtesy and free wax offer, after all, the competition has spanned a month and they had their work cut out for them, but Jen was quick to let them know that they need to show love for the back door as well (see below):
After the back door hijinx, we made our way inside and were promptly schooled on the difference between a "full" and a "brazilian" wax. Many of you may been under the same impression as I that a full was basically a "high and tight" and the brazilian was the "whole shebang," but actually, the only difference is the "butt strip."
Yes, ladies, for those of you with hairy taints, you can get that waxed for an additional $8. Thankfully, neither of us required a taint waxing, so we proceeded into our SEPARATE rooms with our very nice, patient and professional waxers.
I'll leave the details out, but I will say this: no other woman has been that up close and personal with my chocha. You think it's going to be awkward laying there, spread eagle getting wax spread all over your bits, but it really wasn't that bad.
Now, it's like I've got a shiny, new toy and no one to play with it! Thankfully, the "newness" shouldn't wear off for a few weeks, so we'll see what I can drum up. I am going on vacation to Cali in a couple of weeks ... Maybe a young, stoned, impressionable cougar-chasing surfer is in my future?? :)
I get $5 off when I refer a friend, so ladies if you're interested in going from "woogie" to "wow!" let me know. Guys, you can keep yourself manscaped as well, as long as it's above the waist. I'm sure there are some guys that have a "waxing their nads" fetish, but the European Wax Center is not the place for you! Take that shit down to Lola's Strip and Rip! :)
Until next time ...
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
It's time ...
In case you're new to this blog, I was dumped by the man who I thought was the love of my life a month ago. I guess he's right, he really did do me a favor in the long run, because I don't know how I could have ever loved someone who treated me with such disregard.
I've had a month to marinate in it. I've moped around, bitched, moaned, cried and fought of a huge amount of hatred in my heart. Now, it's time to move on.
It's been a long time since I've felt so much anger toward one person. You know how many times when you break up you wish the best for the other person and hope they end up happy one day? Nope, not this time.
I literally wished him to die and burn in Hell and thought that maybe then he'd feel the kind of pain he caused me. The past few days, though, things have lightened up. It's not healthy to hold on to that kind of anger, so I'm letting it go and moving on. For reals this time! :)
You know what that means, right? It means it's time to end "Bush Fest 2012" and celebrate the re-debut of "Spiffygina"! I figure by the time I get around to meeting someone and fornicating again I'll practically be re-virginized, so I'm sure this is worth some type of celebration, right?! Pomp and circumstance, horns, balloons, confetti ... maybe I can get the Marching Cobras to come out and bust a move on behalf of my shiny new girly bits!!
My co-partner in Bush Fest 2012 bowed out earlier this week. We didn't officially "measure up," but I'm pretty sure we made it back to the early 80's. Impressive ...
So, now all I have to do is find my game and get back out there, right? Now ... what did I do with Meat's number ...? :)
Peace out, bitches!
I've had a month to marinate in it. I've moped around, bitched, moaned, cried and fought of a huge amount of hatred in my heart. Now, it's time to move on.
It's been a long time since I've felt so much anger toward one person. You know how many times when you break up you wish the best for the other person and hope they end up happy one day? Nope, not this time.
I literally wished him to die and burn in Hell and thought that maybe then he'd feel the kind of pain he caused me. The past few days, though, things have lightened up. It's not healthy to hold on to that kind of anger, so I'm letting it go and moving on. For reals this time! :)
You know what that means, right? It means it's time to end "Bush Fest 2012" and celebrate the re-debut of "Spiffygina"! I figure by the time I get around to meeting someone and fornicating again I'll practically be re-virginized, so I'm sure this is worth some type of celebration, right?! Pomp and circumstance, horns, balloons, confetti ... maybe I can get the Marching Cobras to come out and bust a move on behalf of my shiny new girly bits!!
My co-partner in Bush Fest 2012 bowed out earlier this week. We didn't officially "measure up," but I'm pretty sure we made it back to the early 80's. Impressive ...
So, now all I have to do is find my game and get back out there, right? Now ... what did I do with Meat's number ...? :)
Peace out, bitches!
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Pity pool-a-palooza
Happy Saturday. I'm single and home alone watching the Olympics while drowning my pity in a bottle of cheap wine. Seems to be common place this month.
I don't want to wallow in a pity pool, but this is my fucking blog and if I need to get something off my chest, this is the place to do it. So, if you don't want to "hear" me bitch and whine tonight, stop reading. OK ... you've been forewarned.
I was thinking yesterday that I've spent more of my life single than in a relationship. I've had two very short-lived, failed marriages which seem so long ago and foreign; neither lasting more than two years. The longest time I've been in a relationship with anyone - five years - was my last ex-husband and we spent most of that dating. Maybe I'm meant to be single?
I don't really like being single, that's the problem. Some people have tried to cheer me up by telling me that relationships are like a yard sale; they look good from a far, but up close it's just someone else's crap. That actually made me laugh, but it doesn't make it any easier for me to get over this relationship.
I'm tired of "friends with benefits" or "no strings attached" interactions. I want a partner to walk the world with, share experiences, laugh, cry, fight, fuck. All of it. I thought I had that, I really did. I'm having a very hard time letting the unexpectedness of this breakup go.
See? I told you I was wading around in a pity pool tonight! Sweet holy fuck. SNAP OUT OF IT!
The only time I don't think about and dwell on this is when I'm working, so I'm thinking that I may need to be a work-a-holic for a few months. I catch myself talking to my dogs and apologizing to them for their "daddy" leaving us. How fucking pathetic is that? They loved him too, that's the problem. And he promised he loved us back.
So, to make a game out of how long it will be before I am "intimate" with another guy, I've decided to grow a jungle bush. Yep, a full on, 1970's, get out the hedge trimmers bush. My friend "J" (I'm protecting the anonymity of her bush) has decided to do this with me. We're laying down the gauntlet and have lit the torch to kick off a "Bush Off"!
I'm not really sure how we're going to prove who's got the bigger bush when it's over or what the time frame is, because let's face it; I don't want to see a picture and I doubt she does either. Regardless, we're going to make our bushes our bitch! Or something like that ... Anyone else feeling froggy and want to join in, just let me know. The more the merrier. Let your bush flow free!!
OK, I'm feeling better. Thanks for "listening." :)
I don't want to wallow in a pity pool, but this is my fucking blog and if I need to get something off my chest, this is the place to do it. So, if you don't want to "hear" me bitch and whine tonight, stop reading. OK ... you've been forewarned.
I was thinking yesterday that I've spent more of my life single than in a relationship. I've had two very short-lived, failed marriages which seem so long ago and foreign; neither lasting more than two years. The longest time I've been in a relationship with anyone - five years - was my last ex-husband and we spent most of that dating. Maybe I'm meant to be single?
I don't really like being single, that's the problem. Some people have tried to cheer me up by telling me that relationships are like a yard sale; they look good from a far, but up close it's just someone else's crap. That actually made me laugh, but it doesn't make it any easier for me to get over this relationship.
I'm tired of "friends with benefits" or "no strings attached" interactions. I want a partner to walk the world with, share experiences, laugh, cry, fight, fuck. All of it. I thought I had that, I really did. I'm having a very hard time letting the unexpectedness of this breakup go.
See? I told you I was wading around in a pity pool tonight! Sweet holy fuck. SNAP OUT OF IT!
The only time I don't think about and dwell on this is when I'm working, so I'm thinking that I may need to be a work-a-holic for a few months. I catch myself talking to my dogs and apologizing to them for their "daddy" leaving us. How fucking pathetic is that? They loved him too, that's the problem. And he promised he loved us back.
So, to make a game out of how long it will be before I am "intimate" with another guy, I've decided to grow a jungle bush. Yep, a full on, 1970's, get out the hedge trimmers bush. My friend "J" (I'm protecting the anonymity of her bush) has decided to do this with me. We're laying down the gauntlet and have lit the torch to kick off a "Bush Off"!
I'm not really sure how we're going to prove who's got the bigger bush when it's over or what the time frame is, because let's face it; I don't want to see a picture and I doubt she does either. Regardless, we're going to make our bushes our bitch! Or something like that ... Anyone else feeling froggy and want to join in, just let me know. The more the merrier. Let your bush flow free!!
OK, I'm feeling better. Thanks for "listening." :)
Saturday, July 21, 2012
When life gives you lemons ...
So, I got dumped this week. Out of the blue, what the fuck are you talking about, dumped.
If you've been following me for at least the past six months you know that I've been dating who I thought was the last guy I'd ever date. I was locked in and committed to this relationship. Now, it wasn't a perfect relationship, but I don't believe there is such a thing. Every relationship has it's ups and downs, but I thought we loved each other enough to work through the downs. Apparently I was wrong.
Although I'm angry, heartbroken and confused, I'm not going to trash him in my blog. I'm a bigger person and I'm working on fixing some karma that I apparently fucked up somewhere down the line. I will say just this one thing: it's fucking ridiculous that he didn't have the decency to have a face-to-face conversation with me about how we could work through this and save our relationship. He ultimately told me in a text message that he "didn't think he'd ever be enough for me and that I'd be better off without him." Chicken shit way out and I don't believe it. There's something he didn't want to tell me that would have come out face to face ... but I digress.
Thankfully, I've gone through enough heart break in my life that I've learned some good coping mechanisms. In between crying outbursts I work out, bitch to my friends (hello friends), drink cheap wine and kiss my dogs. It's a process and I'm on "official" day two. I'll let you know how I'm feeling on day seven. :)
I'm not ready to start dating again. The thought of it exhausts me, but the thought of being an old maid sitting around alone, relying on my vibrator for orgasms scares the shit out of me. I'll let my heart mend for a few and then give it a try again. He may have knocked me down for a minute, but he didn't knock me out.
Lemonade anyone??
If you've been following me for at least the past six months you know that I've been dating who I thought was the last guy I'd ever date. I was locked in and committed to this relationship. Now, it wasn't a perfect relationship, but I don't believe there is such a thing. Every relationship has it's ups and downs, but I thought we loved each other enough to work through the downs. Apparently I was wrong.
Although I'm angry, heartbroken and confused, I'm not going to trash him in my blog. I'm a bigger person and I'm working on fixing some karma that I apparently fucked up somewhere down the line. I will say just this one thing: it's fucking ridiculous that he didn't have the decency to have a face-to-face conversation with me about how we could work through this and save our relationship. He ultimately told me in a text message that he "didn't think he'd ever be enough for me and that I'd be better off without him." Chicken shit way out and I don't believe it. There's something he didn't want to tell me that would have come out face to face ... but I digress.
Thankfully, I've gone through enough heart break in my life that I've learned some good coping mechanisms. In between crying outbursts I work out, bitch to my friends (hello friends), drink cheap wine and kiss my dogs. It's a process and I'm on "official" day two. I'll let you know how I'm feeling on day seven. :)
I'm not ready to start dating again. The thought of it exhausts me, but the thought of being an old maid sitting around alone, relying on my vibrator for orgasms scares the shit out of me. I'll let my heart mend for a few and then give it a try again. He may have knocked me down for a minute, but he didn't knock me out.
Lemonade anyone??
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