The Bitch is Back

I think it's time we all addressed a serious issue that plagues us all, yet we rarely speak of it. We need to break the silence about automatic flushers in public shitters. Seriously, do I even have to tell you how disgusting it is to be on the threshold of your mid-stream-pee-shiver-squat when you hear that click, and then the FLUSH! That little splash on your ass~ Ohhhmyyyygodbarf! 


So, it's been a while since my last post and I've gotta tell you, I feel fantastic! After the breakup, I gave myself some time to lay around in my undies and cry until I was in a state of dehydration and an utter mess. I tossed and turned at night, and cried. I got up in the morning and I cried. Then I went to work and cried some more. I was a drippy, snotty, fucking mess for about 13 days. On day 14, I woke up and I told myself that I was done crying. I wouldn't give that selfish asshole a single tear more. I was going to get up, put a smile on my face, wing my eyeliner thick as fuck, and do something positive for myself, even when I didn't want to. I haven't cried since. I've done a lot of reflecting these past few months, and I've even wondered if I truly loved him, or did I just love the idea of him? How was it so easy to cope, and move on? In my heart, I believe that our relationship was the first happy and healthy one for me after a long run of toxic, abusive, and downright unhealthy relationships and maybe that was the appeal. Perhaps that's what I loved. I think some of it was just the fact that deep down, I really want to find someone that I can grow old with and share my entire life with. I wanted so badly for him to be that person. When it came down to the realization that he in fact was not the one, it was hard to swallow. It hurt so deep, I could hardly stand it, but the thing that kept me moving forward and made it easier for me to move on was the fact that I knew he wasn't it. He wasn't sad. He wasn't missing me like I was missing him. I had to accept that he didn't want me, and no amount of crying and "what ifs" was going to change that. This was my first time ever being dumped, and it stung not only my heart, but my pride. 

I am humbled, and I believe that sometimes a man's purpose in a woman's life is to help her become a better woman and to help her see her potential to do so...for another man. 

In my months of being single again, I've fed my soul what I crave most; travel. I went on a short road trip to St. Louis with the work family in April. That helped to take my mind off of things and help me refocus career-wise. Over Memorial Day weekend a gal pal and I drove to Denver last minute and had a killer weekend filled with shenanigans that has only left me wanting to go back for more. Also, how about those fucking mountain men!!! They just make my mouth water! I've even started to carry mountain trail mix and jerky around with me, just in case one of those delicious men happen to cross my path, I'll have the perfect treat to shake and lure them in. How could they possibly resist?

Just a couple of weeks ago, I threw the spawn in the car and we drove to the beach for a week. It was a much needed vacay for me and it was my children's first time seeing the ocean. I can't think of anyone else I would have rather shared my experience with. It was a bonding experience that we all needed and helped me remember that I already have two wonderful men in my life, and I really don't need another.

A Psychopath Is Better Than No Path At All, Right?

Now, for the shit you all love to read about...my dating escapades and sexcapades...
It wasn't long before I was back out into the dating world and experiencing all of the magical wonders it can bring to a gal's life. I got back on Tinder initially, and not to much surprise, there were a lot of the same fuckboys on there. Same dicks, different day. So, I decided to give Bumble a try. The difference between the two apps is minimal, but with Bumble the gal has to be the one to initiate conversation, and it must be done within 24 hours of the match, then the fella has 24 hours to reply. If either of those things don't happen, the match is lost. Not to fret, they'll pop up again eventually. Surprisingly enough, I've met a few decent dudes on there, and even reconnected with some friends from the past. I would guesstimate that I've been on at least 40 dates in the last few months, and to be totally honest, dating in your 30's is a lot like swimming in a fucking cesspool. Sure, it seems like a great idea to go to the pool...you get your cute suit on, get all excited, and then POW...FUCKING TURDS EVERYWHERE! This time around, I've definitely encountered some serious whack jobs.

Mr. Payne N. Sufferin ~The Lawyer

A couple of months back, I matched up with this guy that looked super familiar to me, but I couldn't place him. He was the typical tall, dark, and handsome (at least in his pics) that I tend to like. He had that he was an attorney listed as his job, which is always a plus, and a somewhat witty description of himself. When we started yapping, he immediately told me that he believed that he used to get his hair cut by the stylist that sits next to me at the salon I work at. That was why he looked familiar to me. We chatted it up for a few days, and I eventually agreed to meet up with him for a drink. 

Prior to leaving for the day to meet him, I asked my coworker that had been his former stylist if they remembered him and if he was a decent guy. I was told that he was a nice guy, and seemed to have his shit together. They told me that I had actually done his ex fiance's hair once or twice, but I couldn't recall who that might have been, so I didn't give it much more thought.

I arrived at the agreed upon watering hole a few minutes early. He was about 15 minutes late...and I was not impressed. As soon as he walked up, it was an immediate no for me. He was not nearly as handsome as I had remembered him to be, and he was super awkward. His button down shirt was wrinkled, and ill-fitted. On top of it all, he was in serious need of someone with some skills to take some shears to his fucking mop of hair on his ugly head. He sits, we order drinks, and the bullshit begins. He tells me about his current job situation, about his recent graduation from IT school, and all the other boring shit I couldn't care less about. Then, he brings up the fact that he used to be a client at the salon again, and says that he really wants to come back, but he thinks his ex still goes there. I say, "Who cares? It's not like you have to sit with her, even if by chance you two happen to be there at the same time." This is when he decides to tell me all about their breakup. EVERY MINUT DETAIL. 

As he's telling his story, his voice gradually gets louder, his face gets red, and the veins in his neck start to dance. It wasn't a good look for him. As I'm listening to him bitch and moan about how his ex wasn't good enough for him, I suddenly realize that I've already heard this story once before, only a less angry and detailed version of it. I asked him a couple of probing questions, and that's when it clicked. I knew exactly who his ex was, and she just so happened to still in fact be a current client of mine, and one that I'm particularly fond of. I tell him this revelation of mine, and tell him that she had told me this story nearly a year before, but she never spoke of him the way he was speaking of her. I let him know that I felt this was a conflict of interest for me, and not a good idea for me to continue any further. He just kept rambling about how he talks to his therapist about her still (a year later, you guys) and he bangs his fists on the table and exclaims that she's a manipulative bitch, still trying to ruin his happiness. Uhhh, ok pal. Thanks for knocking my glass of wine into my lap, psycho. 

Fast forward...I tell him that I need to get home and feed my cat (hahaha) and call it a night. He insists on walking me to my car, and I allow it. I get to my Lambo and turn to tell him goodbye, and he slams me against my car with his body, arms pinned around me, and just lays one right on my lips....BARFARONI!! Who fucking does that? After swallowing my vomit, I abruptly get in my car, and drive off. I didn't even make it a block before the texts started rolling in. Apparently, he was disappointed. He told me that he had bought a nice bottle of wine and had prepared for me to be so smitten with him, that I would go home with him and fuck the night away or some shit. Not even in your wildest, wettest dreams, pal. He text me for a few days trying to coax me into going out with him again, and after no response, he finally gave up. Much to my dismay, he has started to see my coworker again, so let's just hope he continues to schedule on my days off. I'd sure hate to have to cut a bitch.

Harry the Hairy but not so Hip Hipster

In my attempts to try and broaden my horizons, and date someone out of my norm, I agreed to go on a date with this long haired fella that wore skinny jeans and had a massive beard nearly to his chest. I don't know what the hell I was thinking, I blame my ovaries. I don't even like long hair on men. Anyways, I agreed to meet this dude one evening after work for a cup of coffee. On my way there, he calls me to chat. He tells me that because I put that I'm adventurous on my profile, he had a really fun date idea in mind, but there was a catch. He was going to give me three options to choose from, and I had to promise to follow through with one of them. This piqued my interest, so I agreed as long as it was WITHIN REASON. I get to Starbucks, and he was really quite good looking. He had a great smile, and the physique I'm most attracted to. He smelled a little like a hippy that had eaten a lot of Burger King, but I don't mind a bit of meat and a little patchouli scent as long as you're not trying to hide the musk from your skidmarks in your underoos with it. 

We sit on the patio out front, and he begins to tell me about this dream he'd had a couple weeks prior. In this dream, he was alone at a library and this faceless woman walks by him. As she does, she happened to drop her pen and it rolled beneath his table. The next thing he knows, she's under his table, and decides to suck him off right there because she just couldn't help herself. I laugh. He proceeds to tell me that he believes that I am in fact this faceless girl in his dream, and he hasn't been able to stop thinking about me and this situation. Now comes my three choices for our date adventure. 

Option #1

We could go to a library and try to pull this off, but he believes it to be too risky, and not intimate enough. 

Option #2 

We could go to Target. We would both go grab a couple of items to try on, and separately go into fitting rooms. Once the fitting room attendant wandered off, I would text him which room I was in, and he would then sneak in and find me waiting for him, on my knees, ready to service him.

Option #3

If I turned out to be too prude for either of the other two choices, he had just so happened to have conveniently picked to meet at a Starbucks that was just a few blocks from his house, so we could just go there.

What a fucking catch, AM I RIGHT??? How ever do I get so lucky to find such fucking winners? 

I literally laughed in his face, and told him that I was not the girl for him. Where the fuck does this guy get the idea that I'm the type of girl that meets up with a stranger and sucks him off for coffee??? Really? Does this actually work? Judging by his level of confidence, I would assume so, although he claimed he'd never attempted such. At first, I wasn't even sure if he was being genuine or just trying to see if I'd bite. Let's be honest, even if he wasn't being serious in the least bit and I agreed, you know that motherfucker would be down in a millisecond. Any man with a pulse and a functioning cock would be, and I can't say that I'd blame them. He tried to persuade me with the promise that he would reciprocate when he got back into town the following week. Hahaha, clearly he does not know me...I definitely don't suck dick based upon empty promises. I do it when I want to do it and when I feel my partner deserves it. 

I tell him that when I've finished my drink, I was going to leave. He changes the subject from the talk of going on our little adventure and begins to tell me about his job and the company that he started up. He shows me some of his work, and it wasn't bad. He was trying to make me feel comfortable enough with him to change my mind, no doubt. No fucking chance, dude. He then asks me if I thought he could pull off pigtail braids while wearing a hat the next day while he traveled. I don't see why not...at this point, nothing this man can say or do can really surprise me. I can't even stop laughing. Then, this motherfucker asks me if I could braid his hair for him and make it last for his flight the following day. I've never laughed so hard at someone. He was totally serious, and even had the hair ties in his car to do it. At this point, I was in it purely for the entertainment aspect and really didn't give a shit what he thought of me, so I did it. I sat in front of a Starbucks on a very busy street, on a Tuesday evening braiding this burly blonde man's hair into french braid pigtails while he continued to try to convince me to go to Target with him. Wowzers. When I finished, he tells me that it was purely just a stall tactic to keep me from leaving because he enjoyed my company. Duh, dildo. You're fucking transparent. I sat and chatted with him a bit longer, sipped the last of my coffee, and drove away. He sent me a follow request on Snapchat a couple days later, and I haven't heard from him since. Good riddance, fuckboy.

Catfish Carl

My most recent, and most frightening crazy to date was this fella we'll call Carl. We matched up a few months back, and seemed to hit it off relatively well. We chatted for a few days, then I met someone else and lost interest. I tend to go through phases in which I'm fairly active online, and then I disappear. A gal can only juggle so many dicks, ya know? Too much testosterone. 

A few weeks had passed, and out of the blue he sent me a message asking if I was still interested. Sure, why not? It never hurts to get to know someone, and I don't go into any situation expecting to meet my soulmate. I only hope to gain a friend, so there's no harm in that. We talked pretty steadily for a few days, and I agreed to meet him for dinner one evening. Typically, I don't allow these men to pick me up at my home, because I'm not trying to get chopped into little pieces and thrown in the Missouri as fish food, but I was feeling lazy and off my game a bit, so I allowed him to pick me up. DON'T DO THIS, LADIES! It's a terrible idea, especially when you live alone with young children. 

We agreed that he'd pick me up at 7:00 on the dot, hopefully in his drop top, so we could go cruising the streets and he'd have a real pretty, pretty lil thang waiting for him. (If you don't get that reference, we can't be friends.) He texts me at about 6:20 and says that he'll be here closer to 7:15 - 7:30. Fine, that just gives me more time to "unwine" from my day at work. At 7:40 I text him and ask him his ETA, and get no response. At 7:50 I call him, no answer. At 7:55 my doorbell rings. I peek out the window at him and that knot of disappointment begins to grow in my belly. I open the door and flash him my gloriously crooked smile, and all hope was lost at that very moment. There stood Carl, the man I was lead to believe to be a blonde haired man with bright blue eyes, and beautiful pearly white teeth. A man that worked in finance for his day job, and did personal training as a side gig. This man was 6'2, 190 lbs of solid muscle and pure sex. Unfortunately, that is not the Carl that stood on my front stoop. This fucking guy was more like 220 lbs of solid blubber and lard with a front tooth the color of a cheesy poof. His polo shirt was two sizes too small, and wrinkled, but luckily for me, he showed off that stellar beer gut he was obviously so proud of. I was so, so bummed, I don't know how I hid it because I don't really have the ability to hide my emotions very well. If I were a bigger asshole, I would have told him no thanks right then and there, but how could I? So, to dinner we went.

When I go out with people, I like to observe the way they interact with others and their reactions to the environment around them. One thing I'm very in tune with is how they respond to children around them. We went to a little Mexican joint by my house, and it's a family restaurant. That means kids are likely going to be present. We were seated next to a family of 6 or 7 that had kids ranging from about 3 to 10, I would guess. The kids were laughing and carrying on like children do, and he kept rolling his eyes and made the comment that he wished people would keep their brats quiet in public. I honestly didn't even notice them until he made a comment, and they weren't being any more disruptive than he was with his putrid looking fuckface.

The waitress comes, and I order a Corona. He needed a minute. Then he busts my balls and says "I thought you were a Boulevard Wheat girl. That's misleading." 

First of all, fuck you. Secondly, I will drink whatever beer I so please, and on that particular night I wanted a Mexican beer to go with my motherfucking tacos, so don't you judge me, prick. The waitress comes back, and he orders a Corona.

Watching this man eat was one of the most excruciating moments in the history of all of my meals in my life. He was one of those that never fully shuts his mouth, so you can see his food swashing back and forth, and hear the smacking of his tongue as he pushed it around and swallowed. It took every ounce of my being to not get onto him like I do my children when they forget their manners. It was so disgusting, I couldn't even finish my dinner. 

The entire duration of dinner, he kept trying to steer the conversation into the direction of sex, and I kept trying to steer it away. I asked him about his job in finance and how long he'd been with his company. This is when he tells me that he actually got laid off from that job three years ago. Nowadays, he does odd jobs to make ends meet until he can find something on the same level of pay that isn't entry level. Because I'm such a nice gal, I suggest that he email me his resume so that I may pass it along to some of my clients in that field. It couldn't hurt, right? I ask him what part of Blue Springs he lives in and he then tells me that he rents the basement of his parent's home. Awesome. I didn't even touch on the personal training job situation, because that was clearly a thing of the past too. We chatted about our last relationships, and why they ended, and not to my surprise, his last lady had accused him of being a control freak and possessive. Apparently, things had not gone well at the end of their run. 

After dinner, he takes me home, and just as I'm going to get out of the car, he asks if he can come in and use my bathroom. Jesus Fucking Christ, that's low. How can I say no and not be the biggest bitch, ever? I begrudgingly let him come in, and let him know that he really can't stay long, I had a busy day and needed to get plenty of rest for the upcoming day. I had a glass of wine already poured and gave him a beer. He sat down on my couch, I sat down in my chair...away from him. He started flapping his gums about shit I didn't care to hear, so I paid more attention to my cat. Then he says that he feels so far away from me and it made him feel awkward that I didn't sit next to him. I'm thinking, GOOD, now leave! He pats the couch next to him and asks me to sit next to him. I felt so uncomfortable, that I actually did, but I sat on the edge of the cushion, stiff as a board. That's when I felt his hand creeping up on my back and I froze. This shit was not going down in my house. I turned to him and said, "Ok, I have to be totally honest with you right now and tell you that I'm just not feeling this." The look on his face is one that will forever be burned into my memory. 

C: "What do you mean, you're not feeling this? Feeling what exactly?"

M: "This. I'm not feeling you and I. I don't feel a connection with you. I'm sorry, I just have to let you know."

C: "Was it something I said? Was it something I did?"

M: "No, it's not like that, I just don't feel an attraction to you. You're a funny guy, and you're nice and I appreciate that you took the time out of your day to meet me and take me to dinner, but I need you to know that I have no intention of wasting your time or leading you on. We can be friends if you would like, I just don't plan to see you again romantically."

C: "Well, what is it about me that's just not FUCKING GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU???"

M. "Whoa, I didn't say that at all, and I'm sorry to hurt your feelings. I know it's not easy to be rejected, especially in the middle of a date, and for that I apologize. I just don't want to send any mixed signals."

C: "This is some bullshit if I've ever heard it. You could have told me sooner, rather than leading me on."

At this point, his face is beet red, and he's clenching and unclenching his fists and keeps clearing his throat. I stand up, and say, "Well, this is really fucking awkward, I think you should probably leave now." He argues that he will leave on his own accord, when he's ready to leave. Deep down, I'm sweating bullets and hoping I can make it to one of my hidden weapons in the room if he were to lose his shit and come at me. I tell him that I insist that he leaves now, and that I will walk him out. He gets up, slams his beer on my counter, and walks out the door, slamming it behind him. I lock that shit up like Fort Knox and pull my drapes closed. He proceeds to sit in my driveway for 15 minutes before he finally leaves. At this point, I've text my girlfriends about the situation and give them his info just in case anything should happen to me. 

About a half hour later, he texts me, and the following is where things ended, or so I hope.

After this situation, I decided to take a little break from the online dating scene and get my ass back on track. It's a scary world out there, and I think I just needed a little reminder that not every person has the kindness inside of them that I hope that they do. In the meantime, I'm spending my time with the people I feel are deserving of it, and that make me smile. If you've found yourself in my company as of late, guess what? I consider you one of those I hold near and dear. If not, it sucks to be you. :)

Another One Bites the Dust

Breaking up is hard to do. That's it. That very sentence says it all.

Life is funny, you know? You can be going on about your shit happily and completely content, then BAMMM!! All of the sudden this person walks in and totally changes the course of your entire life. They change you. You can try to fight it (God knows I sure as fuck did) but it's of no use. All it takes is that one moment, with the right look, at the right time and then it happens...you fall in love.

Although I resisted, inevitably I fell hard. I just couldn't help myself. It was the way he smiled. The way he held my hand, or brushed my hair off of my face. He would chuckle and sigh, "Oh babe, I love you" when I would say something completely asinine or just flat out silly. It was the way he smelled when he came home from work, and it was the way his hair stood up in a disheveled mess when he crawled out of bed in the morning. Goddamnit, it was the way he fucking inhaled and exhaled his breath. Now, I'm here, crying my puffy, bloodshot eyes out, after four solid days of no sleep or appetite, while he's smashing away on his Xbox controller and loving his life...WITHOUT ME.  

I can't tell you what went wrong, because I honestly don't know. We were planning for our futures together. I allowed my children to get to know him slowly, and surely they grew fond of him, too. We talked about moving in together and how we'd arrange their rooms. We started planning a vacation for all of us to go on, per his suggestion. It was all WE! Everything was US! Now, I'm stuck here wondering what the fuck happened to us? Where did I go wrong? What could I have done better? Just Why??? I thought we were happy. He assured me and reassured me time after time that I could trust him. He was my person. He was my rock. I could fucking count on him and lean on him when I needed strength. I needed to take a chance and let my guard down with him. Bullshit. He waited until I did just that and then Poof- he was done. 

When the man you love with every ounce of your being says to you in the same breath that he loves you, BUT he has to be honest with you...When he went to happy hour with his colleagues one Friday night in February (also the evening prior to the day he blew off a commitment he made with you and your children) he met someone and he really felt a connection. "They had chemistry." He really enjoyed flirting with her all evening and didn't want to stop. It made him regret that he wasn't single. So, this vanilla-looking bitch with a six-finger-forehead from Loan Processing obviously gave the man I was sure I was going to spend the rest of my life with such a fucking hard-on, that he was willing to throw away 14 months of happiness. What a fucking joke. And sadly, this joke's on me. 

He tells me this, while we're laying in bed and I have my head resting on his chest. This man shatters my heart into a million shards, while I lay my fucking head on his. At that moment, I was numb. I was in total disbelief and shock. I couldn't comprehend the words coming out of his mouth. I sat up and picked at my chipped nail polish and fought the urge to allow the screams of anguish in my heart and head to come out of my mouth.
A part of me died. 

This man that I love tells me that he doesn't feel anything for this plain Jane and that he's not wanting to pursue anything with her, or anyone else for that matter. He claims that he wants to just figure things out in his head and be single for a while. He states that he knows it's hard for me to believe, but he does love me, and has been happy the whole relationship. I was the best girlfriend he could ever hope for, and the last year was one of the happiest in his entire life. This is hard for him, too...He just started having doubts. It's not fair to string me along and blah, blah, blah. 

NO! YOU JUST WANT TO GET YOUR DICK WET ELSEWHERE WITHOUT GUILT. 

This isn't my first rodeo, cowboy. This is day four. Day five could be easier, and day six may be the worst yet, but one thing I do know is this; I'm a tough broad, and I may not always have the highest self-esteem, but I know my worth. I was loyal and dedicated to you. I gave you everything I had to offer with passion- mind, body, and soul. I was honest and took you and all of your faults into me, and loved you fiercely. I desired you when you couldn't even look upon yourself in the mirror. I cherished everything about you. In return, you threw me away like I'm nothing, and that is something I will never understand, nor will I ever forget. 

That last night together, I laid quietly crying next to this man that I love, physically unable to leave his side. In my mind I silently begged for forgiveness for whatever I had done to deserve this. I silently pleaded that I would wake up and it would just be another shitty dream. I silently prayed that he would roll over and just hold me and tell me that he made a mistake and he couldn't live without me. I didn't want to let him go. I lay there awake all night long, and watched the minutes pass us by. I listened to his roaring snores, and for once didn't even mind them. I just wanted to soak in every moment with this man that I love, because it would be the very last. 

I'm fully aware that this may make me sound bitter and maybe even a little crazy. I know that sharing my feelings in such a public manner may be tasteless to some, and perhaps even unforgivable to a few, but this is how I take the steps I need to get the pain out and to begin to heal. This is how I move forward with my life, without the man that I love. 




If you, this man that I love, should ever happen to read this -please just know this to be true:
Even though you've shattered my heart and soul into a million pieces, I still love you with each and every one of them, and I will forever miss you. 

You may find me offensive, but I find you irrelevant.

It's been a while since I had the time to sit down and put my thoughts into writing, and I've sure missed it. To be honest, I seem to have the urge to write in the most inopportune times, like when I'm driving to work, or at the grocery store. Once I finally have a moment of silence in my A.D.D brain, the thought has left or I get writer's block, which is a real bitch. I want to steer this blog in the direction that my old blog from back in the Malevolent Moni Myspace days was headed...shorter postings, and more frequently. Bare with me while I attempt to make that transition.

I need to get some shit off my chest. 

On the first day of November, I started the most successful diet to date. It's the leftover Halloween candy diet. My flabby ass and cellulite have never been more happy, and I've never felt so guilty. Even my spawn have been surprised by my utter lack of self control when it comes to those little bite size Snickers bars. I could literally feel my blood sugar soaring to a level that a give-no-fucks diabetic would be proud of. 

The gym will be my home away from home this week, fo sho.

At the ripe old age of 31, I feel something stirring inside of me. I feel a very strong need for change and dare I say, an urge to completely rock the boat and cut a lot of people out of my life. I'm just tired of the negative energy that people put out and the drama that comes with them. I'm sick of fake people and their stupidity. Honestly, I just may be sick of YOU.

Let's talk about RESPECT.

Call me old fashioned, but if you and your hubby or significant other invite me over for dinner, or out for drinks, the last thing I want to do is bare witness to your relationship issues that should be handled in private, at home, behind closed doors. It's really fucking rude and uncomfortable for everyone involved to have watch you belittle and berate your partner. So, you think your husband is a pussy? You think he's stupid, or an idiot? You think your girlfriend dances like a slut, or says awkward things at the wrong time and it makes you uncomfortable? That's fine, think what you want. Whatever your opinion is of your mate, it is just that, your opinion. Don't you dare subject my partner and I to your utter lack of respect for them and your relationship. You won't ever see us behave in that manner because I have respect for you as my friend, and respect for my partner. Even more so, do not expect me to sit quietly by and tolerate your bullshit. I WILL tell you that you're acting like a cunt sac. If you truly can't stand the person YOU HAVE CHOSEN to spend your life with so much that you feel the need to put them down and make them the butt of every joke when we hang out, why don't you just keep your ass at home? Better yet, here's a novel idea: GET OUT OF THE RELATIONSHIP, YOU MISERABLE FUCK. I'm over it, and you.

Let's talk about LOYALTY.

I know some pretty nasty secrets about some people, and to be frank, it makes me feel downright sick. As many of you know, my last relationship was very unhealthy and tumultuous for many reasons, but mostly because my ex didn't know how to be faithful and loyal to one person. Due to the mental anguish I went through both during, and after that time in my life, I have a very "black and white" view of how I believe one should behave when in a committed relationship. I find it very easy to be loyal to the man I love and I genuinely don't understand how someone can utter the words of love to someone and still have the need to wander and dabble in intimacy with someone outside of the relationship. It disgusts me to know that some of you feel the need to have a side piece, or backburner bitch, all the while you post nothing but lovey-dovey shit on your partner's Facebook for all of us to see. In case you were unaware, sneaking off on your lunch break to "just make out and chat" with an old flame THAT IS MARRIED, WITH CHILDREN is unacceptable. Sending dick pics to a married woman while your girlfriend is at work is not only trashy and immature, but downright ignorant and disrespectful. If you have a crush on someone and feel the need to comment "Damn, you're so sexy. Your man is one lucky dude. Too bad he tamed you before I had the chance to" or some other lame shit like that on every photo they post on social media, just stop. It's inappropriate and unnecessary. Chances are, their dude knows how lucky he is. He certainly doesn't need your pathetic, pussy vulture posts on some photos to confirm any bit of it. If you are doing anything that you feel you need to hide from your partner, you should stop. No matter how innocent you may believe it is, if you wouldn't approve of your partner doing it behind your back, you shouldn't do it either. It's that simple. If you're reading this and you just swallowed a big lump of guilt in your throat, I'm glad. In fact, it makes me clappy happy. You're nothing more than a whore to me and I have no respect for you. Think about what you're doing for a moment, and if for no other reason, consider what you will inevitably do to your children and the values you will be instilling into them. I know one thing that is certain; I'm ashamed to know you, so much so, that I will no longer call you my friend.

Let's talk about INTEGRITY.

I find it ironic to see so many people so quick to jump onto a bandwagon and have such a strong opinion about something that they have no real concept of what the truth may actually be. People are so quick to change their profile pics to certain flags or symbolism "to show their support" and stand for a cause, yet they don't change a damned thing in their day to day routine. I don't mean to make light of the tragic events that go on in the world around us, it makes me just as sad as the next person. My view is that if you truly care about people that are oppressed, tortured, mistreated, etcetera, stop and think about what you as an individual can do today to make someone else's life a little better. So, you want to help make this world a better place for us all? Why don't you start by doing something so small and selfless as to go out of your way and compliment someone you know may not being feeling too hot today. Better yet, hold the door for someone, even if it may inconvenience you for a mere 13 seconds. Smile at complete strangers, even when they may give you a dirty look.   

As a mother, I consistently insist that no matter what the situation may be, you should always be honest and do the right thing. It's a very simple set of principles. 

I'll give you an example:

A couple of months ago, the spawn and I got caught in the front line of a nasty storm that was moving in on our way home from school, so I decided to stop at Target until the worst of it passed. I parked the car, and just as I was beginning to say "The wind is really strong, don't fling your door open when you get out", I hear the unmistakable bang of my car door hitting the shiny red Dodge parked next to me. There was a pretty good ding in their door and my paint was chipped off, onto their red paint. At that moment, I had two choices. I could say, "Oops, it was an accident, and there's minor damage, so no biggie" and go inside and about my day like nothing happened, OR I could do the right thing and leave my info for the owner of the car just in case they wanted to get it fixed, because it was indeed my fault, regardless of the circumstances that caused the damage. At that moment, my decision not only affected that individual, but also my children. What lesson did I want to teach them? I obviously chose to leave my info and explained to my spawn why I did so. My son felt bad that I could be held financially accountable for something he had done, and I made sure to explain to him that even though it was done unintentionally, there were still consequences to those actions, and it's important to do the right thing. The lady that owned the car called me that evening, and thanked me for being an honest person. She appreciated that I could have very easily banged her car up and never said a word, but chose not to. She was also kind enough to not hold me liable for the damages. 

The point I'm trying to make with this is simple. Every single day, we have the choice to make this world a nicer, gentler, more loving place for us all, yet some people choose to leave their moralities and ethics behind and do what suits them and benefits them most instead. If you truly want to make a difference, start right here, in our community, and in your home. Stop posting pointless links to stories you haven't even bothered to read and memes highlighting how one particular race or religion is fucking this country or those people, and educate yourselves on what's really going on. Show kindness and try a little empathy for once. Be respectful to the people you choose to surround yourself with. You'll be amazed at the impact you can have on not only the people around you, but within yourself. Please remember that people of all genders, race, and creed are fucked up. We see it every single day.  Ask yourself this; Are you one of those people? What have you done today to make an attempt to change things? Do a little soul searching, and for fuck's sake...DO THE RIGHT THING. 

On an end note, I'm going to have myself a Snickers and then go do some Yoga. Enjoy the rest of your Monday, fuckers. 

Self-Entitled Pussies and Alabama Hot Pockets

First and foremost, I have to say that I am so sickened and annoyed by what I see on a daily basis when I log into my social media, I want to scream! All anyone is posting as of late is how so & so is offended by what this or that person said, and how some dumbfuck posted something that was racist or prejudice against them or their sister's husband's late-great uncle Fucktard Fred. WHO GIVES A RAT'S ASS??? Seriously, why does everyone feel the need to look for any opportunity they can find to be pissed off and create drama over something so menial? When did our society become so self-entitled? Just because everyone else is jumping on the "I'm offended and my pussy hurts" bandwagon, doesn't mean you need to, too. Don't these people have lives? 
Let me give you a different perspective: What if someone very dear to you, let's say your child or your husband, found out that they were terminally ill, and you had a limited time to spend with them...Would you be so inclined to get your panties in such a wad over this stupid shit? Likely not. Your energy would be focused on what's truly important and actually relevant to sustaining your life and happiness and spending quality time with the people you love. You would be worried about things that matter, not the opinions of others and their actions. Here's a news-flash, we all have limited time here, so I suggest that you GET THE FUCK OVER YOURSELVES, YOU NARCISSISTIC DILLHOLES! You and your opinions are not as important as YOU think they are.

Now, I have one thing to say regarding all of the Confederate flag mumbo jumbo and the Supreme Court's recent ruling on the ban of same-sex marriage: I DON'T GIVE A SHIT. There. I've said it. At the risk of sounding insensitive or callous, it truly is how I feel. Take a moment and ask yourself why it's so important to you, personally. Do you even know? What ever happened to people just minding their own business and handling their affairs, without having the need to vocalize every opinion they have just because they have one? Why choose to be a judgmental prick? There's so much more going on in this world, why give a second thought to what someone else views as right or wrong? The way I see it, a flag that was first made well before my lifetime has absolutely no bearing on my day to day grind or personal life. It's a fucking flag, folks. While some people may see it as a painful reminder of their ancestor's past, and dumbshit hilljacks may still use it as a symbol for their backwoods frame of minds that they've had born and bred into them, the truth is, that unless you allow yourself to take on some sort of emotional attachment to it, it's still just a piece of fabric. You are the only one that controls what your thoughts are about it and the feelings that come from your personal points of view. Don't try to put that blame on someone else, or for fuck's sake, a flag.

As for equal rights for marriage- I'm happy for all of my friends that are positively affected by this. To see so many people thankful and full of joy, is a wonderful thing. In my opinion, I don't think that I, nor anyone else should have a right to say that someone can't marry the person they love. I'm a heterosexual woman and I have absolutely no idea what it's like to be told that not only is it wrong, but that I CAN NOT marry someone I love so, once again, this is completely irrelevant to my life, so why the hell should I care? And for those folks that say this has single-handedly ruined the sanctity of marriage, Uhhh...have you looked around? The truth is that the mass majority of our peers these days don't take the commitment and their vows seriously and I'm genuinely shocked when my friends make it to their fifth wedding anniversaries. That's so, so fucking sad and to be honest, just one more reason why I have never chosen to marry. At the end of the day, I don't care who marries whom, I just think that when you say "I DO", you should mean it with every ounce of your being. To say that 'the gays" have ruined it is by far one of the most asinine statements I've ever heard. People have ruined it, period.

And one more thing....for those of you that have so excitedly embraced Bruce Jenner as a woman and prefer to call him Caitlyn- that's totally fine, but don't you dare attempt to be condescending and correct me when I refer to him as a HE. As far as I'm concerned, no matter how many tits you put on a man and how many beautiful gowns he decides to wear, he will never be a woman, The day that doctors effectively flip, nip, and tuck a cock inside out and make a man menstruate and give him the ability to GIVE BIRTH TO A LIVE HUMAN BEING, I will nod my head in agreement and say, "Why yes, you are indeed a woman."  Until then, he's just another dude rockin' a set of perky tits, with some fabulous heels, and red lipstick, while tucking his cock up next to his turd cutter.

On a more disturbing note, ponder this: if Jenner did in fact decide to go through with trading his twig and berries in for a vag, do you think he would let his partner give him an Alabama Hot Pocket or do you think he'd just stick to a Porky Piggins? I know you're going to Google it, and that's some sick shit right there. 

The LOVE Connection

Since my last post (I know, it's been ages!) I have acquired myself a boyfriend. As shocking as that may be, I finally met a dude that meets my standards, and we met on Tinder, nonetheless. It took me a minute to really open myself up to the thought of taking myself off the market and settling down with just one penis, but thus far it's been worth it. To say that I'm not completely terrified and skeptical of how things will turn out and the thought of risking getting my heart broken and trampled on again makes my stomach turn, is a lie. Trust is a major issue for me, and old habits die hard. Through the process of getting to know this fella, I've practically had to relearn how to be in a healthy relationship and I consistently have to remind myself of a little saying that goes something along the lines of  "If you carry bricks from your old house into your new one, you will only end up with the same shitty house." I know that if I constantly go back to my old frame of mind pertaining to relationships, I will never successfully build a strong foundation for a lasting and happy partnership. Instead, I choose to look forward and enjoy the little things in the present. I have decided that the only way to truly be happy and to make this dude happy is to give myself to him 100% and hope that in turn he will do the same for me. Thus far, I have no complaints.

Now, let's roll this lil train back a few months and blab about this hunk and how amazingly wonderful and crazy my life has been since our little ding-ding notification. 

Our first date was on a chilly, Thursday evening in Westport. We met for a drink, with no more intent than to just see where it would go from there. I was sitting at the bar, sipping on my Moscow Mule when he walked in. He had on some nice slacks, a cardigan over a button up, and a tie. A fucking tie! I was impressed by his threads, fo sho. And that smile...boom! He was off to a good start.

We took a seat on a couple of bar stools away from all the other patrons and started chatting. I honestly wasn't sure what kind of vibe he was putting off, which drove me nuts. He seemed to be interested with all my yapping, but I couldn't get a solid read on him because he was a little fidgety. One drink turned into a few drinks, and I was starting to feel pretty loose. I figured my PBJ from lunch was long gone and my ass was starting to get super sore from sitting on that bar stool, so we moved to a table and I suggested some we grab some grubbage or he was going to see an entirely different side of me that wasn't going to be quite so pretty. There was nothing appealing on the menu, so we decided to walk a couple of blocks and grab a bite elsewhere. We ended up shutting the place down. The staff had started stacking the chairs on the tables around us, and we were so entranced in our conversation, we hardly noticed. 

Somehow, our leftovers ended up in my car, and we ended up sitting at the bar in Buzzard Beach until the lights came on and they gave us the boot. I seriously couldn't believe that I met this guy at 6:30 and here it was 3:00 A.M. and I wasn't even remotely sick of him. Major points, buster. He walked me to my car, and there just so happened to be a delivery truck blocking me in, so I was stuck. We decided to just sit in the car and ended up having a pretty spectacular make-out-sesh right there in the illumination of Panera Bread's overhead sign. It was definitely one of those moments when my Diva Cup was my will power, and I was thankful I didn't just rip his buttons right off of his trousers and let him have his way with me, because I fucking wanted it, bad.

We had our second date a few nights later, and then a third and so on. To say that it has been perfect bliss, would be a stretch, but it hasn't been far from it. I think having a serious boyfriend has some killer perks, and as you may have noticed, I like to make lists of shit, and I know your ass reads them daily on Buzzfeed, so we may as well indulge one another. Enjoy, fuckos.

Signs your boyfriend just may be a keeper:

1. He makes you laugh when you're in a shitty mood.

2. Although he loathes coffee and all things coffee related, (weirdo, right?!) he purchased a coffee pot and coffee for you so that you could enjoy your morning cup of happiness at his house when you stay over, and he even kisses you with coffee breath. Wowzers.

3. He does the helicockter whenever you ask him to, with zero hesitation and always with a smile.

4. Although he laughs at your ridiculous fear of eight-legged freaks, he promptly kills them in your presence...Sometimes he even does it with a blow torch just for your sadistic entertainment.

5. When you work late, he almost always cooks you dinner, and you enjoy every bite of it, even if that chicken breast is more like chicken jerky.

6. He tells you that you look sexy or beautiful every time he sees you. And he's honest when you don't.

7. You can make fun of people together without uttering a single word, and know exactly what the other is thinking.

8. You never get tired of fucking him. Every single trip to Poundtown is purely ecstatic and leaves you excited for the next round and craving his touch and the way he looks at you when he's rammin' dat ass.

9. He holds your hand in public, and he grabs your ass, whether people are looking or not. You love that shit.

10. You have someone to change your oil and listen to the weird noises your car makes. 

11. He gives killer foot rubs, and doesn't complain most of the time.

12. He has a very gifted mouth...and not just linguistically.

13. He has the same sick and twisted sense of humor as you, so you can send him your most obscene pics and memes and know that you're going to get something equally crude or offensive back.

14. He never speaks to you in a disrespectful or demeaning way, but he also doesn't hold back or sugar coat anything, and he always lets you know when you're being "fussy"...AKA in major bitch mode. 

15. He carries the heavy stuff.

16. He knows that the majority of your family is white trash and all the emotional baggage that comes along with your past, and he accepts it, rather than judging you and every mistake you make along the way.

17. He makes a solid effort to build a relationship with your spawn and understands how important it is to you that he is a stable and positive influence in not just your life, but theirs as well. 

18. He never leaves the toilet seat up, so you never fall into the toilet when you go pee in the middle of the night.

19. He takes care of you when you're sick and goes out of his way to make sure that you're always comfortable at his house.

20. When you take a bubble bath at his house and run the bubbles out of the tub and all over the bathroom, he just laughs and joins you in the tub for a lil rub-a dub-dub.

And last, but certainly not least...

21. He lets you stop in the middle of a toe-curling blow job, so that you can remove your bangle bracelets, and play ring toss with his penis, and he even applauds you when you make a ringer.

How could I not love this dude? 

That's A Worn Out Slogan, Wannabe Hulk Hogan

It was 8:07 A.M. and I was on my commute home from dropping my spawn off at school a few mornings ago, when I happened to pass by a fella in a little beat up Ford Ranger just going to Chowtown on an ice cream cone. It was soft serve in a sugar cone. Just where in Hell do you get soft serve ice cream at that hour of the day, AND WHY THE FUCK IS THIS DUDE EATING A TWIST CONE FOR BREAKFAST??? Seriously, I'd like to know, in case I ever decide I want to kick my obesity into high gear.
God Bless America.

New Year, New Me Bullshit

Well folks, its a new year, and as much as I'd like to claim that I'm working on changing into an all new me, alas, I am not. Last year was pretty damn awesome, and I feel as though I grew a lot as a whole. I set a financial goal to make a certain percentage more than the year before at my job, and I nailed it. I had decided I wanted to travel a bunch and see cool shit I had only ever imagined since I was a child, and I did. I had striven to make new friends, and push myself well beyond my comfort zone on many levels, and I succeeded. I had a remarkable year, and there's not a thing I would change about it, or the person I am evolving into because of it. Today, it feels good to be me.

I have however, been doing a lot of personal reflection, and really analyzing where I need to make some self improvements both mentally and physically. It's never an easy task to truly look at your life and your actions and admit your faults and own up to your failures. Sometimes, that's exactly what we need to do to find our balance. 

As for the mental side of things, I've definitely been a bit hard on myself lately. Sometimes the stress of being a single mom really beats me down. I'm my harshest critic most days, and sometimes I feel as though no matter how hard I try, I will never get ahead of the game. I worry constantly that I work too much, and that when I'm not working I'm too busy doing laundry and all the domestic shit that has to be done, to really have the quality time with my spawn they deserve. It's a never ending cycle, and I honestly don't know how to make it any easier. I just keep pushing and pulling my way through and try to remain positive.

Lately, I find myself worrying about my health and what would happen if something tragic were to happen to me. In September, I had to rush myself to the ER after laying in pain for two days, thinking I was dying, to find that I had a golf ball sized ovarian cyst rupture. Let me tell you, it's depressing as fuck to have to drive yourself to and from the hospital when you feel like you just had a near death experience. It's even more so when you get asked multiple times if there's anyone they can call in case shit goes haywire and a decision has to be made, and your answer is "No, I don't have a person that's authorized to pull my plug if I turn into a veggie." I had never felt more alone in my entire life. Luckily, I have some amazing friends that are always there for me when I ask them to be, but there lies the issue...I have the hardest time asking for help, from anyone. I hate being vulnerable, and most of all, I loathe feeling like I'm a burden to someone. I'm too stubborn for my own good and it's all a huge mind fuckery that I've had since I was a young girl. Ultimately, I have learned through the years that the only person I will ever be able to count on and trust is myself, so it's difficult for me to open myself up to the possibility of someone else actually wanting to step up to the plate, and help lessen my load. This is obviously an area I need to work on, and I attempt to every single day.

A few years back, when all of my girlfriends started warning me about how much your mind and body changes in your thirties, I didn't take them very serious. I just looked at my tight ass and smooth skin and shrugged, like it was never going to happen to me. HA!!! I took my youth for granted. Now I look in the mirror and cringe when I see the wrinkles on my forehead and the cellulite on my thighs. I look at my breasts and remember what they were like before child bearing and gravity started to take hold. I pinch my mom belly daily, and reminisce about my old six pack and belly ring. It makes me want to fucking vomit. Just a couple of years ago, I could just cut carbs for a couple of weeks and jog around the block and lose 10 pounds lickity split. Nowadays, I just look at a fucking cupcake and get a new dimple on my ass cheek. So, I decided to take my jiggly self back to the gym and work at being less of a tub of lard. I know it's what my body needs, and my mind craves it. And let me be honest, we all know I enjoy some muscled eye candy when my endorphins are pumping and I'm dripping with sweat. Wink, wink!

Random pet peeve of mine: 

I find it so very annoying when a man with long hair constantly strokes and pets his hair. We get it, dude. You have long hair, and I'm sure you think it's pretty. However, twirling it and flipping it over your shoulder like you're Fabio doesn't appeal to me. I think you look like a feminine bitch boy and I want to shoot you in the face with a rubber band in hopes that you'll at least pull that stringy shit back into a pony tail. 

Thanks For Playing, Now Fuck Off

When dating, if your partner suddenly starts acting distant and says they don't know what they want, they're lying. THEY KNOW. They just don't have the balls to tell you that it isn't you. It's that simple. They may throw some lame excuses your way, such as, "I'm just not ready for something serious right now" or "I really like you, but I'm afraid I'll hurt you" and my personal favorite, "I just don't know if it's a good idea for me to date a woman with kids because I don't want anyone to get hurt"- after the fact that you already knew I had kids and we had spoken in depth about the entire situation, multiple times. I will never understand why people can't just be straightforward and say what it is they feel. Why must you play games and be deceitful? Why waste the energy? 

I recently read an article by  Mark Manson titled “Fuck Yes or No,” about this very subject that really struck home with me. Many of you have likely read it, since I posted the link on Facebook, but for those of you that haven't, allow me to share. The gist of the article is to describe the all-too-common “grey area” of dating, where “feelings are ambiguous or one person has stronger feelings than the other.” You know you've been there, we’ve all been there. According to Manson, if you’re in the grey area to start with, you’re already setting yourself up for failure. To help assure you that you’re entering into an equally beneficial and enthusiastic partnership, Manson says you should apply “The Law Of Fuck Yes Or No”

To break it down for you, I'll give you an example.

I started dating a guy a while back that upon our first meeting, I knew he wasn't a good match for me. Our first meeting was supposed to be a coffee date at 9:00 AM at a little coffee shop of his choosing. I showed up early, he wasn't there. I ordered myself a frothy latte, and poked around on Pinterest while I patiently awaited his arrival. At 9:15 I text him and asked if perhaps I had gone to the wrong place. No reply. By 9:30 I had finished my drink, and I was livid. I couldn't believe I had been stood up for a fucking coffee date on a Monday morning. So, I walked out to my car, and just as I was getting in, I received a text saying he was sorry and that he'd be there in 10 minutes. I told him I had already left, and that my time was valuable and he had wasted it. I felt disrespected. Right then and there should have been when I cut it off, but we all know how dumb I can be sometimes, and much to my regret, I didn't. I left and went to a little shop a few blocks away to pick up some things on my list of shit to get. 

He asked me to come back, and he would make it up to me. He would buy me a coffee and breakfast. (Yippie!) I told him I would, but I took my sweet-ass time and made him wait about as long as he had made me wait. I arrived, drank more coffee, and we chatted for a short while. He invited me to come hang out with him later that afternoon for a bit if I was free, and I accepted. Fast forward a few hours and we sat outside on his deck and yapped some more. You see, I had already had my doubts about this fella because he didn't respect my time, nor did he genuinely seem to care that it had bothered me. The majority of the time we conversed, he did most of the talking and it was all about how great he was and all the great things he does and had done. He didn't seem at all interested in learning about me, he was more entertained with selling himself, to me. I flat out told him that I thought he was a narcissist, and he laughed. Boom. Right there it was. I knew the type of man he was from two conversations, and the red flags were beating the shit out of my brains, yet I made the conscious decision to continue on with him, with extreme caution. It was a laughable attempt on my part.

The point of this is that I knew before I even met this guy that he wasn't going to meet my standards and that I would have far too many reservations about him for anything successful to ever come from dating him. Sure, we had fun. He is a nice guy, he has a good heart. But, he's not the man for me. I knew at the very start that he wasn't a "Fuck Yes!" to me, and ultimately I was not a "Fuck Yes" for him. I want to date someone that when asked if they want to come to dinner at my house and eat a fat pot roast that simmered in my slow cooker all day, he responds, "Fuck Yes, I do!" I don't want a man that says I probably shouldn't because insert lame excuse here, and then an hour later tell me he's going to go eat tacos at some dive bar. I wasn't a "Fuck Yes" to him, I was just an option. Why didn't he just throw a fresh pile of shit in my face? He may as well have, because that's about how much respect and appreciation he gave me for my thoughtfulness and willingness to go out of my way to prepare a nice dinner for him to enjoy. It was damn tasty, and now I'M GLAD I DIDN'T HAVE TO SHARE.

The moral of all this mumbo jumbo is simply this, I personally have found myself repeating the same behaviors with the same type of men, over and over again. It's draining, and emotionally it begins to wear on my self esteem, even though I know from the start that it's a matter of self-sabotage when I allow myself to become emotionally involved with a man that's just not the one for me.

I just want to find a good dude, with a big ol' dick to just love me for me, and be there for me when I need someone to talk to and help ease my stresses. Isn't that basically in some form what we all want? So, why do we complicate shit? We will never know the answer to that. 

It looks like I will be making some changes in 2015 after all.