About Me

Do you like sex and food? Have you ever found yourself in a compromising situation and thought "Hey, what the hell?' and just gone with it?" If you answered yes to either of these question then we can probably be friends.

Thursday, August 18, 2011

"Why do I end up with the weirdos?"

I have a friend who has a penchant for weirdos. Somehow she finds them. Or they find her.

Originally, I had planned to write an actual blog about this. Like, paragraphs, illustrations and everything. Instead, I'm just going to give you the notes. So here they go.

(this all happened last weekend, btw)


-Ash and drunk guy
-blue hair (her hair, not him0
-in a band (emo) (him, not her)
-uses hair straightener
-drank almost an entire liter of vodka-ZELKO VODKA
-i spent the entire time worried he was going to puke on the carpet or my stuff
-at one point he sat up and said 'i'm not sure what's going on' LOVELY
-he was good with kids-it was one of his redeeming qualities
-we kept asking 'how much did you drink?'
-we couldn't tell if he was crying or giggling. they sounded the same. i dont know about my friend, but i can't be dtf with a dude like that

he got totally tanked and slammed his head into the glass coffee table. there was a loud crack. then, he hid under the blankets. like we would forget about his drunk ass or something.

at this point, he had a crazy mood swing and turned into a dick. he was getting belligerent and went from making little sense to absolutely no fucking sense whatsoever. i couldn't even figure it out and i speak drunken slurs fluently. he tried to kick my friend out of her apartment. then he kept asking 'what time is it?' and saying 'some people wanna sleep' but when she'd try to leave the living room he'd keep mumbling at her to come back.

what i've concluded based on this evening? i will never date a guy in an emo band, ever.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

If You Don't Know How To Order Coffee

Get the fuck outta my way. Mama needs her iced macchiato.

If you don't know what an artesan coffee is called, you're simply not worthy.

all I wanted was an iced coffee-an iced skinny caramel macchiato. all the black guy in front of me wanted was a venti house blend with a shot of espresso and soy. But he didn't know how to say it.

"Gimme one of dem regular coffees with dat bitter stuff in it with all the energy. And the milk that comes from the beans.

...what? Oh. house blend. Espresso. Soy.

Now, I'm not a coffee snob but I AM a self-proclaimed iced latte addict. Iced skinny caramel lattes and iced macchiatos are my poison. And like I've posted before, how much Starbucks I've consumed in a day influences my sex life. So, my husband puts up with and fully supports the $15 I spend a day on my drinks. Yeah, they could be made for half the price, but they wouldn't be as good. I know, I've tried.

So I'm standing there in line trying not to sigh impatiently-and failing miserably.

I'm also trying to figure out why the barista couldn't figure out wtf he wanted. I mean, I could figure it out-wtf do they pay her for, anyway?

She gives him something similar to what he's asking for. He didn't know the difference but whatever. Not my problem.

I order my drink.

She gave me a caramel latte with two shots of espresso. WTF IS THIS SHIT. Why can't people do their jobs. Ugh.

And my husband DID NOT get laid that night.

Sunday, August 14, 2011

That awkward moment when you run into your ex and his new girlfriend says...

"Is she the one that used to do that thing?"

And you wonder...what is she talking about? I always assume the worst and take it to mean something sexual. You can say just about anything to me and for at least half a second I'll perceive it as sexual innuendo. I will either be extremely flattered or extremely freaked out. Both faces look the same so you won't know which emotion is racing through my head or loins. Its like I have a sex poker face or something.

So, given the ex it was-the ex I had when I was 18, this statement could have meant just about anything. I did a lot of crazy shit when I was 18 because I drank a lot and was a high school dropout which basically meant I had too much free time on my hands and little to no self-respect.

Did she mean the giggling during sex? The toe curling thing which almost always meant a cramp which meant tears-which were often mistaken for crying during sex...but it wasn't the sex itself that was making me cry! I swear! Did she mean the craving for crab rangoon almost immediately after orgasm? The time phase where I smoked lots of weed, had lots of sex and then binged on fritos and chocolate pudding?

Or was it something non-sexual, like "Is the the one that used to shake her head three times after meeting someone new so she'd remember their name?" Because I do that too.

What could it mean? Do other people assume their exes have discussed every detail of the previous sex life with their new partners? Am I weird for wanting to know where my partners have been and what they've done with them. I mean, I know I'm the best but if I"m not the first, I wanna know details.

At any rate, if it WAS sexual, I bet she was intimated when she saw my tits in real life.

Saturday, August 13, 2011

Don't Put Tooth Paste on Your Hoo-Ha

When I was 18, I dated a guy that told me he liked to masturbate with tooth paste. I can't be with anyone who is more sexually adventurous than me so I had to try it to.

He said he LIKED the cooling sensation he got on his dick when he did. He said it felt great and compared it to someone going down on him a breath mint in his mouth.

Cosmo said guys really liked that, so I figured if it felt good for HIM, it would feel good for me too. I mean, cool breaths on your pussy? That sounds kinda hot.

So one night when he was working I tried it.

The scene looked kinda like something out of The 40 Year Old Virgin where Steve Carell gets ready to jerk off. Besides turning around the pictures and action figures. I didn't care if my stuffed animals saw. I mean, half the time they were on the bed while I was fucking anyway. There weren't innocents at this point.

So I got into bed and I had my new tube of tooth paste ready. I mean, I don't know if you know this but I am really anal (haha) about my teeth. I couldn't use the same tooth paste. I just couldn't.

I'm not going to get really graphic because someone told me my dad was reading this blog and I appreciate the support but it makes it weird for me to actually type out stuff...you know? So i'm just gonna say:





It felt like a terrible sex dragon breathing fire on my clitoris. I screamed. I cried. My roommate (a 60-some year old man that drank non-stop and had flaking skin from mild liver failure) knocked on the door and asked if I was alright and if anything was on fire.

I couldn't sit with my legs closed for three days. I don't sit with my legs together anyway, but had I wanted to, I wouldn't have been able to. I didn't let my ex go down on me for a month. Two reasons:  i couldn't trust him. What he thought felt good was terrible and disgusting and also my clitoris was so friggin' raw just the thought of a penis made me want to cry.

These are terrible memories. *Shudder* I wish I could forget. I hope this blog prevents someone out there from making the same mistake I did. If you try it anyway, don't say I didn't try to warn you.

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Starbucks Controls My Sex Drive

Okay, I'm not totally sure if I'm right about this. Right now its just a theory that I'm developing but here goes:  I think Starbucks controls my sex drive.

When we were broke for those two months my husband was out of work, I cut back on a lot of things. But the one thing I couldn't give up was my Starbucks. I drank LESS but I just couldn't give it up completely.

Now, before you say:  you're stupid. Starbucks is expensive. Your cell phone was cut off, lemme just say:


Starbucks is my crack. I can't help it. I mean, my apartment building is like a halfway house, everyone here is addicted to SOMETHING. Even my son. His addiction? Ni-Hao, Kai-Lan or whatever that show with the cartoon asian kid is. He can't get enough of that show. And I can't get enough of Skinny Iced Caramel Machiattos. I LOVE THEM. If I don't get one, I am in a terrible mood and I don't want to do anything. Especially have sex. If I don't get my daily intake of coffee my husband can kiss the mere idea of any nookie goodbye.

When we were broke, we had a lot of sex. My husband was home all the time, the house was clean, I was working all the time-thus I was near Starbucks. I drank INSANE amounts of Starbucks iced lattes. I had one in the morning. I had one in between shifts. I had one before closing the store at my second job. If I was walking around the mall on one of my breaks there was a good chance that I had either just finished an iced latte or I was on my way to getting a new one.

And when I got home, I would tackle my husband and we would have sex. Amazing sex, too, which was impressive because he only had one hand to work with.

I've noticed something;  I have gone two days with Starbucks. We have not had sex in two days. I have been irritable and my vagina does not want a penis near her. Coincidence? I think not.