Filed under: Naughty
The fitted sheet has slipped off one corner and is clinging to the featherbed instead of the mattress.
The blanket is across the bed the wrong way and slipping off the corner.
The pillows are strewn nine ways from Sunday and one of them is on the floor.
Welcome home, baby. I’ve missed you.
Dear body.
Knock it the fuck off, already, huh? I’ve put you to bed and given you rest. I’ve kept the humidifier on, I’ve sweated the fever out of you. I’ve fed you orange juice and tea and chicken soup. I’ve gargled with salt water, I’ve drank a hot toddy. I’ve tried every mother’s trick there is and still you allow my throat to be on fire.
Please, please, please, please make it stop. I stayed in bed for two days, everything else has gone away, just allow me to be able to swallow again is all I’m asking.
Because ouch.
Oh yeah, I have this thing!
I’m sorry, it’s been a weird couple of months.
Half the people I was reading disappeared, I turned 30, my grandmother died, and then it was the holidays and there was travel, and then work picked up into what our bosses laughingly call “our busy season,” and the rest of us call “hell on earth” because there’s no word that can describe just how busy it is.
Also, I have this problem with memory. At 2pm, I’ll think of the greatest idea to write about, something hilarious that I can weave into a great tale, and then two hours later when I sit in front of the computer to type it, I’ll have absolutely no recollection of what it was. Even if I wrack my brain, walk myself backwards through the day, nothing.
And I’ve never even smoked pot! Dammit.
I’m going to make an effort to carry around a notebook so I can write the hilarity down. Maybe my brain just needs a kickstart, since I haven’t actually used it in so long…
1. Complain that he’s impossible to buy for.
2. Have mom tell you she just bought this thing he said he wanted for X amount of dollars, would you like to give her the money and put your name on it?
3. Decline, saying you’re better than that and will find him something AWESOME.
4. Fail to find something awesome.
5. Wait just long enough for your mother to forget how much she paid for the item.
6. Call her up and accept her offer, including the part where she claims she spent significantly less on it as she actually did.
7. Feel a little guilty.
8. Don’t feel too guilty about it, because hey, it’s not your fault her memory is shot, and it is, after all, something he wanted.
One thing I’ve learned as a woman is how to lie pretty easily when it comes to being accosted by creepy dudes.
So when a random 60 year old Polish guy sidles up in the grocery store and opens with my post title, I’m fully prepared.
It always comes as an amusing surprise to me just what the story will be. This time, apparently, my name is Sarah, I’m from Kansas and I work in marketing. Don’t I sound wholesome?
I have known three men in my life who have been severely averse to body hair. I find this fascinating.
The first was a guy I knew in college. He was a cyclist, professionally, so he could write it off as beneficial to his sport, but he would freely admit that even if it weren’t for the cycling, he wouldn’t have any hair. He was clean as a whistle, no hair on his legs, arms, back, chest. Hardly any on his head as he kept it very closely shaven.
Another was a guy I used to work with. He had hair on his head, past his ears, but he hated it everywhere else. He said he would shave his legs in a heartbeat if his wife would let him.
The third, and the only one I was ever intimate with, would occasionally get his back and chest waxed, but only when he felt like it or could get around to it. He claimed he would shave his legs too if it wasn’t such a societal no-no.
Now, I can understand that some men are more hairy than most, and that an excess of body hair can be a bit of a turn off. But none of these men was particularly hairy. The last, which I know the best, obviously, didn’t have any more hair on him than the next guy. Not so much that I even noticed, to be honest.
And I’ve never really known any women who were completely anti-body hair. Not as much as these men. I find that odd. Me, I don’t mind a little hair, providing a guy isn’t Sasquatch. It reminds me that I am, in fact, screwing a guy. Maybe it equates to the concept that women like their men rugged.
Take for instance, Hugh Jackman. When he’s all clean shaven and dainty, he freaks me out. I don’t think he’s attractive at all. But get him dirty and hairy, a la Wolverine, or his part in “Australia” and he becomes sexy as hell.
Then again, I really don’t like men with facial hair to date. It’s scratchy. I’m dainty. But he sure is pretty to look at.
Anyway! Back to my original thought. Do I know weird men or is this phenomenon more common that I would expect?
I had a date recently, and even though there was zero potential for post-date frolicking, I thought I would gussy myself up a bit and wear fancy undergarments. I thought that adding a little black lace to my wardrobe would make me feel feminine and sexy.
Yeah, all it made me feel was as if I had a rubber band up my ass and my tits in a vice.
I was so unbearably uncomfortable all evening. Sure, my rack looked incredible, and yes, he certainly noticed, but I can’t see that it’s at all worth it. Especially since this guy had the personality of toast.
I own exactly two thongs. One of them I got free from Victoria’s Secret when they were having some promotion for cardholders, the other came as part of this particular black lace set. Needless to say, I don’t wear them very often, and normally not out of the house.
I have a friend who wears nothing but thongs and I just can’t understand it. Now, I’m not one who wears granny panties around, but there is such a thing as a happy medium. I wear cute little things, sometimes even lacy ones, but one that actually consist of fabric. I mean, if you’re going to wear next to nothing to protect your lady bits, have the audacity to actually wear nothing. Pieces of string just seem extraneous.
I am of the opinion that there is no point whatsoever to thongs unless you happen to be engaged in play of the sexual variety with a man (or woman!) who enjoys the sight of them. And I won’t be wearing the annoying little fuckers again any time soon.
*p.s. – this is a nod to one of my favorite silly movies, “Never Been Kissed” where Gary Marshall’s editor character asks everything in the meetings in this format. “Marketing department. Yes or no?” Cracks me up, every time.
I disappeared without really meaning to. There’s been stuff. My birthday, a death in the family, travel all the way home, Thanksgiving. But I’m back now, I swear.
I’ve spent the better part of the day trying to convince my cat to clean my room for me. She has failed miserably and now we’re both curled up and being lazy. XMen something or other (I think it’s 3 … that’s the one where Famke Janssen gets all smokin’ hot and crazy, right?) and who knew Ellen Page of “Juno” fame was in it? I’ve seen her in a whole bunch of other things but I didn’t remember her here. Anyone ever see “Hard Candy”? Cathrinette, I recommend it for you especially, seeing as how dreamy Patrick Wilson, recent JTTT nominee, is her co-star.
Happy December, people!
Someone near and dear to me paid me an incredible compliment the other day and I’m not sure he even realized it. A new acquaintance asked me why we weren’t a couple and he said “Because I don’t deserve a woman like her.” It was a flippant response, designed for a laugh, but looking at him I could tell he meant it. And that did more for my self confidence than he’ll ever realize.
I am not fortunate enough to be able to afford to do all of my shopping at Fresh Market, but every so often when I have extra cash, I wander over there (it’s across the parking lot from my office) and pick up some delectables. Usually, it’s the spinach-artichoke dip, which is to die for. Or the trail mix covered in white chocolate. Or Walker’s shortbread and expensive English tea. Or the french vanilla pound cake! Yummy.
Anyway, the story I’m trying to tell is that I was over there a few days ago and they had an entire Thanksgiving meal spread out and they were sharing with people. “Try our Thanksgiving meal!” The fact that Fresh Market has a whole Thanksgiving meal in the first place is grand, but the fact that they were just passing it out I thought was fandamntastic.
Now I’m making myself insanely hungry. Dammit.
