Sticky Sally

I don't mind hot days at all, but the humidity kills me. Being sticky is gross. I have to make sure I wear certain bras that lift and separate the teets, so that they don't become a mashed up sweat-fest. The crack of my ass doesn't really sweat though, so that's a plus. A butt crack is actually so useless, isn't it? I mean, mine doesn't do anything except collect the hair off my head in the shower. Just a pointless split. I guess when it is so hot and sticky out, females can be grateful to not have a sack of nuts. THAT must feel gross. Plus, nuts get all long and dangly when they get hot. So they are definitely just hanging out, swinging and sticking around. You always see guys adjusting themselves- which only means that they are ripping their nuts off their thigh. In this heat, I imagine it looks like tearing gum off a sidewalk. And sleeping in this heat? Ugh, that's horrid. Some people complain that they can't sleep without being covered up by something. Are you kidding me? I went to bed last night naked as can be, sprawled out like I was being sacrificed with not a single thing touching me. Before I went to bed I asked Girth if he wanted to pork, I was met with the usual look of disgust, and, "Can't we ever have sex when you aren't gross? You probably stink". So I smelled my armpits, they were fine. He wasn't buying it though. I might have looked a little, let's say disheveled, but gross wasn't very nice. Off to bed I went, while he watched the game. Obviously he couldn't resist my sweaty, sticky sprawled self though, because I woke up to him standing over me and smacking my arm with his wiener. Pffftttt...nope. Buddy boy missed the ride on this Sticky Sally when he had the chance.

Mean Monday.

It's Summer and you want to look good, I get it. However- you can't look like Rosie O'Donnell in the Winter and Lana Del Rey in the Summer. Unless you're Oprah.

Frenemy is one of the stupidest fucking words I have ever heard.

Bacon is my frenemy.

I can't even remember what clothes I wore yesterday. Or how old my husband is. But I can't erase a  single word of Ice Ice baby from my brain.

Asshole person, "Will you please <insert food or drink request>"

Other person, "No, get it yourself".

Asshole person, "You're wicked lazy".
ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!

Outstanding 80's movies are being remade into ridiculous new releases. Ruined by boys that can't act and whorish tween looking girls. And the new soundtracks suck balls.

People who are mean to cats.

Girls who are newly single- you do not have to throw your muffin into overdrive. Chlamydia is not a requirement of solo ventures. No one wants your gift of HPV.

Brag about your body. Wear clothes from the children's GAP. Post hundreds of selfies. Complain about attention from guys.
Silly twats.

Shorts/sweats, anything with words across the ass. If you're young, it's inappropriate, old, also inappropriate. They should just never exist. Gross.

Don't brag about your clothes, car, paycheck, anything- if you live with your parents. The only things you should brag about is your savings account, because hopefully you are striving for more than your childhood bedroom in life.

That's all. I am done being hateful for now.




























 

Dead Mouse

I have never lied about so many things in my life, as I have since becoming a mother. I lie to my child constantly.


Example 1) That stupid play area in the food court at the mall. There are always rotten kids running around in there jacking up other kids, unsupervised because their parents are way too concerned with their phones. So, we never usually take him in. Nine out of ten times- I tell him that he can't go in because it is a birthday party and he wasn't invited. Awful, I know. But he is fine with it.

Example 2) Mostly any toy at the store. He "needs" many of these toys, so I have to break the news to him that they are not for sale. Of course I tell him that I will talk to the manager about it, and get it straightened right out. You know, because mommy saves the day. 

Example 3) I just started the bathtub up the other day and as I was getting in, I remembered that I have my period. Which obviously means I was corked up. So I pop er' out and toss it in the toilet. Like a scum, never flushed it. Doesn't Riot come strolling in, looks in the toilet and clasps his hands over his mouth. He is concerned and asks what it is.
Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck.
I am not having a tampon talk. Dead mouse it is, so I tell him that. He believes me, but is then very concerned over there being a dead mouse in the toilet. Then he announces that "It is bleedin', mom!! Zombie mouse...AHHHHHH...gonna get meeeee!!"...Great. I heard about zombie mice getting him  for the rest of the day.

So, yeah. I lie like it's my frigging job. The kid never would have eaten steak if I hadn't told him it was brown chicken. Best of all though, I will not have a child with entitlement issues...because he is OK with not always getting what he wants. Besides, I can always bribe him with a dozen hot chicken wings.  

 

 

Dear Me...

So I saw the idea of writing letters to your younger self...holy interesting. It actually took some thought! Loved it. Did it.


Your dislike of babies and fear of pregnancy will not be enough reason to get your tubes tied at 15. Don't bother writing that huge letter to a random medical board about it.

You are going to actually give birth to the most beautiful child, you're really going to like him.

Eventually your disdain for the institution of marriage will fade and you'll do it. Crazy, I know.

Don't pay attention to the people who called your first love 'puppy love'. There are few things in life as passionate as your first.

Your boobs are huge, we all know it. Stop letting everyone feel you up.

You're going to break a few hearts- don't forget what yours felt like that one time.

Outie vagina's are not strange. It is not falling off. You are fine.

In ten years you will have stopped letting everyone feel you up. However, you won't stop showing them to everyone. What is your deal?

There will be one person in your sexual repertoire that you will want to punch your teenage self in the face for. 1 outta 9 isn't bad- good job.

You're obsession with things ending on an even number will spiral out of control when you realize that you married wiener number nine...

Mixed tapes will always make you misty eyed, keep them all.

That stubbornness that was once your downfall, will become your savior.

You won't ever grow out of pecker checking.

I don't need to tell you that your are beautiful- you've always been a vain fuck. However, you are so much smarter than you ever realized.

You will never pass through that stage of awkwardness, sorry.

You'll learn to cut what weighs you down...

 

Long Hair, Don't Care

I have decided that if I want to claim back any sexiness that I once embodied, I will have to take the necessary actions. Be pro-active. And there is only one way to do it. It isn't something I WANT to do, but I HAVE to. You see, I have never had a pedicure...because I wouldn't pay someone to do what I can do for myself. And I HATE people touching my feet. Only one manicure, because my sister in-law to be at the time conned me into it and made me go. In which I abruptly jacked up as soon as we walked out the door and got into the car. I'm just not cut out for those things. I have not even worn heels since I had Riot. Not that I could walk with my ankles snapping every other step...but I did it anyway. Pregnancy robbed me of any iota of sexiness that I had, but I have already told you all that. So. I have given it some thought, really thought about actual sexy girl actions. And BOOM, there it was. Strippers. Slow your role...you won't be finding me at the Woosah anytime soon. However, strippers in a specific way- like when they have really, really long hair and tip their head back and their hair swishes on their ass? That's it. That's the ticket. I need extensions. Long glorious ones that I can just walk around tickling my ass crack with for a day or two. I am absolutely positive that it will transform me into a raging sex goddess again. I want to swish it and flick it and whip it with slutty passion all over the place. I'm officially convinced, and obsessed. I even gave this blog red print. Because red is the color of whores.
So exciting!

BOOM.

 

Complimentary Douche.

"You have a great front row".

"The closer you walked to me, the more gorgeous you got".

"I like your hangy downs" (Referring to my earrings).

"You're so good".

A man who was about 103 years old informed me that I caught him on payday, and that if I stuck around after my shift I could find out what my "big tip" was. Insert creepy wink...which took A lot of effort.

Scenario, Every single time paying for a drink- huge wad of money is pulled out to extract 3 dollars from. Stop it. First of all, you look like a douche. You are not giving off the wicked awesome vibe of, "Look at me I'm fucking loaded and have a huge wiener". Instead you are stating, "Look at me I don't have an actual bank account but will show you this huge wad to over compensate for the small bulge in my pants". Just throw your money on the bar like a grown ass man and let me pull from it.

Please stop waiting for your wives/girlfriends to go to the bathroom so you can give me a huge tip and tell me to put it in my kitty. I do appreciate the cashmoney, but don't do it if you have to tip me like a hooker on the sly.

I really do enjoy when your eyes glaze over and you order your draft beer from my tits.


I absolutely adore bartending, really, I do. I find humor in many of these things. However, it gives me a glimpse into what life would be like as a single lass...which has not happened for me since I was seriously 15 (relationship hopper status). Well, I was single for about 10 minutes in between my previous relationship and this one...and something as simple as changing my Facebook status had made my inbox BLOW UP over about two days. It was intense. Oh, no. The single life would not be for me. I applaud the ladies I know that handle it though. Should my marriage ever eat shit, I'm getting lesbionic. There will be so much love and so much boob between us.