The Buildup...

Hello Lovers!

Don't cream your panties or whatever it is you men do (prematurely ejaculate? Idk) but some exciting changes are coming to the ol' bloggeroo. I don't know why I called it that. Probably cause I'm just so gosh darn excited about what is coming next.

Anticipation is by far the BIGGEST turn on to me. Just spending a day thinking about all the delicious things you are going to do that night with your special someone(s) is such a incredible feeling. Oooohhh man.

Anyway, be on the lookout. I'm doing some foreplay this weekend and the big orgasm will cum in the next week.

***I'm sorry I just tried my hand at erotic literature on the blog. I'm that fucking bored at work right now.

It's Friday, why am I so annoyed?

Judging from a post you will see soon from Barbie, I have a feeling neither of us are in the best of moods today. I'm literally counting the hours until something better (boozier) comes along. My disposition starting yesterday afternoon and leading right to this moment has been less than pleasant. I know it's not Monday so musings are unnecessary. Friday was meant to be fuck up friday or fun friday or even freebie friday but I'm so furstrated I can't even begin to put together a coherent blog post. Plus, even I'm annoyed with my damn alliterations at this moment in time. So, peeps (what a stupid fucking word) you'll just have to wait for a return to form. Which I am hoping will happen starting Sunday.

Take Care Of Your Girl Before Someone Else Does...

"Jaw on the fing floor!!  Literally mouth open and gasped."   LT

"Glad I could help someone get laid" Hip J

"Take care of your girl before someone else does."  All things I heard after I cheated.  No need to cover it up or make it seem less then it was.  I cheated on him.  It's an appropriate blog considering Berryfine's April 27th post.  Well he wasn't married, but it was cheating.  After all the complaining and blogging, I went somewhere else.  Do I feel guilty?  No.  Judge me all you want.  I don't know you and if I do then I don't fucking care.  Go fuck yourself because I got hot, sweaty, nasty SEXXX.  This is going to sound juvenile but he (the boyfriend) started it.

Have you ever had the kind of sex that with just one thought makes you wet?  The touching, biting, leg shaking experience that you want to re-create over and over and over again?  The common question you hear among cheaters and cheatees is "Was it work it?" WELL FUCK YEA!  Yea it was!  My vag is pulsing thinking about it?  Have you ever had a vag pulse?  NO?!  Well then you need to think about the last time that you were really FUCKED!  I'm not talking about love making.  There is a time and a place for that.  This is not that time or that place.  The following week I couldn't taking to him without Vicky knowing alllll of my secrets.  He, who we will call Mr. XX, is no random.  I've known him for years.  Have you ever had a guy/girl you could have dated but you picked A over B?  Well he was B from when Boyfriend and I started dating four years ago.  Mr.  XX knows I have a boyfriend.  In fact they're in rival fraternities and for a while Mr. XX never let me forget it.

I've stayed away from a few of his advances (even after the boyfriend cheated) over the years but this time I made the move.  I was sick of no sex.  I tried.  We talked, I asked, walked around butt ass fucking naked and even pulled out the sexy panties.

I was in Atlanta to visit a friend for the weekend (Hip J) and so I could fly out of town for work the following week.  Hip J is very current on my situation.  We used to work together and e-mail damn near daily.  She was all about making things happen.  She was so about it she let me take sleeping on her pull out couch one step further.  Mr. XX was just as open to the idea.  "What do I need to bring?" Condoms.  "I'll call you when I'm close."  There was some sexting in between and and the words 'fuck' and 'dick' might have been thrown around.   He waisted no time when he got inside the apartment.  His clothes came off and when my pants came down he had one question..."AisforAwesome why won't yo man smash (fuck)?" If I knew that Mr. XX then I'd be getting laid.  "Well AisforAwesome I wanna wake up to it".

It was like a Trey Songz video.  Have you seen the "Neighbors Know My Name" video?  I'm surprised that Hip J didn't wake up.   All the things I wanted and some things that I didn't think of happened ("Tell me you love it").  I now know that with a little more of the yoga I've been doing that I'll be able to get my feet to my ears without his help.  We had sex twice that night and once again the next morning.  It was ah-maaa-zing.  Just the ass smacking, hair pulling (his and mine), leg shaking, toe curling sex that I needed.

Excuse me...I think I'll go sext someone now.

I Like to Win Free Stuff*- don't you?

I love winning stuff- even stuff I don't want. The power and feeling of winning is just incredible! So, I have some links to win freebies I'd like to share with you that I will update throughout the day. Check back often:

• Setting You Free has its 5th day of giveaways. Sorry, I was behind on my reading so I missed Days 1-3. If you read this before 11 am you still have a chance at day 4. Day 5 is a surprised package and since day 4 is a Brooks running t I have a feeling day 5 will be even better. Plus I just became a follower of this blog and am LOVING it. Check her out!
• Tall Mom on the run has a $25 giftcard to Gone for a Run up for grabs. The site is super cute (as most running sites are) and I've already put a few entries in the pot.
• StickyFingerPrints has a SWEET eco-friendly jacket you could score. Ends 5/7 so you have a bit of time to check out the website and pick other things you like. Two additional winners get a water bottle.
• If you are a card junkie like I am, then I Run Because...I can has got you covered with a cute Banana Blossom Press giveaway. She reviews cards and wants you to check them out for the chance to win fun shirts!
• I like shirts. A lot. So I like that Barefoot Angie Bee is giving one away! From the ladies at Wooha(Women Having Optimistic Objectives and Healthy Attitudes- and lets be honest we all need help with that!) comes a $20 credit toward your purchase. Just head over to Angie's site and check it out- she reviews the shirts too!
• $50 to RoadRunner! Whooo, thanks The Boring Runner. He cracks me up because he totally used the expletive I deleted in the title and has readers so I think I shall revert back to my usage of bad language. OOOOHhhhhh. Anyway, pick up some cash for come gear. And by cash I mean plastic. Or an email. Or whatever.

*I was going to use a 4 letter S word but edited myself. Aren't you proud of me?

Do You Date United Colors Of Benetton Style? AisforAwesome Style

To answer Berryfine's question...YES!!  I'd like to give the world a Coke and in perfect harmony...  From the time I was a junior in high school my Mother knew there was no telling who I would bring home.  In fact she dubbed me an Equal Opportunity Dater.  Let's be honest.  My first boyfriend in preschool, he was Puerto Rican.  At age four I knew Michael, the soccer player, was adorable!  No surprise though.  I'm Black, Puerto Rican, West Indian and Portuguese.  I AM the United Colors of Benetton.  I'm not going to go through a list of the guys I've dated but I do have a few observations.

• Penis size knows no race.  Yes, the larger penises have been on a black man.  Even one so big I wouldn't dare let him near my kitty.  
• Small is small no matter what race.   
• There are also men who have a great size penis but can't. do. shit!
• Kissing is knows no race.  Good, bad, sexy, wet, sloppy, strong, soft, pillowy...Ok pillowy has only been with a black guy.
• Jungle Fever- Even if it was a movie and that's "just what you were thinking" sucks and is hurtful to hear. 
• Cuddling and being held even if no sex is involved also knows no race.  
• Dating styles can be different but that depends on who you hang out with.  If you hang out out with a white and an hispanic guy in the same crew, well then they'll probably take you to the same places.  
• You learn a lot mixing it up.
• All Black guys can't dance.  All Black girls can't dance.  Having rhythm and dancing is not the same.  I don't know about the Black girls but the Black guys who can't dance...well they also can't fuck.  Partial rhythm does give you credit.  Date a drummer.  
• Guys are guys and no matter what color, race, height, weight, or penis size can still break your heart.  You can also break theirs.  

My heart, eyes and vag have known no difference.  They haven't cared anyway.  I do have a preference and I think I'll let you guess what that preference is.  Some of you know me and others only know my posts.  Do you think it matters?

Do You Date United Colors of Benetton Style?

Okay, so after I started browsing the internet, I realized that even Benetton puts more white people in their ads than other races but you get my point. I bring this up because of the now infamous "Phat Pussy" Block and a story my Gym Crush shared with me. Which got me thinking about the topic of interracial dating.

So apparently, at another Gold's Gym, Block developed a thing for another female (white and who may or may not have had a fat pussy). Block, being the direct guy he is, approached her and asked her out. She responded with an honest if not politically correct answer:

I don't date black guys.

Apparently, Block went off on her in the middle of the gym and some of his buddies had to calm him down. Gym crush said he never saw the girl there in the mornings again. That location closed and they started coming to mine and now Block is fixated on me.

But the point of my post is not Block, it's the I don't date black guys comment. Let me give you a quick rundown description of the guys I have slept with:

1. Jim- blond hair, blue eyes


2. Tony- Brown hair, hazel eyes


3. Spring break guy- brown hair, blue eyes


4. Lucian- black hair....green eyes? maybe hazel or brown.


5. Michael- brown hair, brown eyes


6. Lance- brown hair, blue eyes


7. Ryan- brown hair, blue eyes


8. Chris- Brown hair, brown eyes


9. Matt- brown hair, blue eyes?


10. Christian- brown hair, brown eyes


11. Scott- brown hair, blue eyes


12. Craig- blond hair, blue eyes


13. Touchdown Tommy- blond hair, green eye

So, I am not a colors of the world dater. I don't know why. I find plenty of black guys attractive (hello Taye Diggs!) but not sexually attractive for whatever reason. I have no idea if this is the norm and I hope it doesn't make me racist. If it does, its my subconscious talking. And my body because I do not get wet when I see hot black men. I think, damn, I know a few girls I can hook that guy up with!

So, have any of you dated across ethnicities/races? Do you recommend it? Do you judge people who do or don't? Tell us your thoughts!Don't be afraid to post anonymously either ;)

Dentistry...not quite a Wednesday Wigout

Perez Hilton has a post slamming Jessica Simpson for admitting her brushing habits in regards to her pearly whites. While it is rather disgusting to hear, it made me think about my own oral habits (that's what she said. haha oral).

Anyway, J Simpson basically admits she doesn't brush three times a day and I'm here to back a sister up. I don't brush three times a day either. I'm sorry but there is this thing called life and sometimes it gets in the way of all good habits. Don't act like you haven't skipped a brushing before.

Damn girl, those teeth are WHITE despite your lack of dental hygiene!

In fact, I once worked with a girl who brushed her teeth dozens of times a day. She literally toted a full tube of toothpaste and a toothbrush around in her oversized purse. We had training for work and every time we had a break she skipped into the bathroom to shine those chompers. I thought it was so obnoxious and slightly obsessive compulsive (admittedly there are worse habits this chick could have).



I fall somewhere between coworker and J Simpson. I brush AT LEAST once a day. Though I don't floss and J Simpson does. She also uses listerine and I don't because I ran out and don't want to pay 6 bucks for it. I guess my hygiene could use some work but whatever its part of shambles. Shambles don't have routines.



We also don't do dentists either. Eww. I hate them. I don't know if it's because of a bad childhood experience (which was seriously horrendous) or because I don't want to find out I have 32 cavities. How many fucking teeth do we actually have in our mouths? I have no idea. Also, they are expensive. So I guess I should just brush my teeth three times a day after all.

What is your dental routine? Any tips or advice or products you suggest for a lazy gal on the go?

What Do You Want To Know!?!?

Okay, I know this is typically the space reserved for Wednesday Wigout or whatever but I'm considering revamping the blog and I need some of your (all 7 of you) help. You see, I need to know what topics you want me to cover. I'll get as personal as you want but I need to know what you want so I can satisfy you!

So let me know, I'll add contests- so prizes and ideas are needed. I'll tell you about me but you need to shoot me some questions. Just tell me what would make this your go to blog for all things shambles!

Mmmmkay? Thanks, Love You All!

Updated Sexual Conquest List

Sighhhh... Unlucky 13. I better fuck someone soon so I can get off that number.

1. The First
2. The Bartender
3. Spring Break Guy
4. Dr. Pothead
5. TrueLove
6. Penis Nano
7. The Whatever
8. TrueLove
9. The Spring Fling
10. The Marine
11. The Groomsman
12. The Sleeper
13. Touchdown Tommy

What does it take?

What does it for someone to get you naked?  For you to go from 0 to 90 and get it on ASAP?  Must he or she whisper sweet nothings into your ear?  Rub you in all the right places?  Talk dirty?  A sext message or two?  Hey!  Don't act like you've never done it!  If you haven't then find that dirty sexy little someone and try it out.  I sure have one and boy is he FUN.  ;)  Great form of safe sex that won't get ya preggers.  That's another post though.  I'll write about that another time.  Remind me Berryfine!  If this person messes up in their attempt to get you naked, do they get another try that night?

I've written about my drought.  About all the times I wished I was having sex with my boyfriend instead of becoming more familiar with my sex toys.  After another two or three week wait the time had arrived!  He wanted to have sex!  Let me set the scene for you...

The lights are off and the two of use have been laying in bed for a little under an hour.  The only light in the room is from that episode of Law and Order he put on tv.  (Nothing like the "doink, doink" and a SVU crime to get you in the mood.)  We have new pillows and soft organic cotton sheets so I'm in comfy bed heaven.  I'm right at the line of being asleep and awake when poke, poke (with his finger, NOT his penis) "I think we should have sex."

You think we should have sex?  Did that just happen?  Did he just poke me as if we're in line at Kroger together and it's time to check out?  Dammit!  Where did the sexy pick up moves go?  Where's the game?  This made me wonder for just a sec how he ever got me in bed in the first place.  Then I remembered...I was 21, drunk, and there was panty dropping music* playing.  They practically jumped off my body.  Could he at least have felt me up instead of POKING me in the arm?  At least a poke with his penis would have been playful and fun!  Still lets keep my arm out of it though.  UGH MY ARM!  When is that ever a good way to get someone out of their clothes?  Especially during a drought.  I can get going quickly but really?  Really?!  Couldn't think of something sexy to say?  Fine.  Don't say anything at all.  Just touch me.  He knows, or used to know the parts where I like to be touched.  Guess what...they haven't changed!  In fact they're kinda lonely.  Touch them.  Just one?

Sadly for him and for my vagina, he did not get another try.  That poke pissed me the fuck off.  In fact I told him to leave me the hell alone.  Just because I'm horny and we don't do it on the regular anymore doesn't mean that you should half ass shit.  You don't half ass anything else.  Don't half ass my lovin'.

So Little Black Book readers...what does it take?

*I posted this blog after work with a glass of wine.  After the wine and a little panty dropping music I'm ready.   Poke, poke.  Shit!  Damn you Aunt Flo!  I'm going to drink more.

Fat Pussy...part II

So, I know you're all wondering about my gym escapades and my interactions with creeper Block. I, finally, have an update.

Monday was my first day back at the gym since that horrid encounter on the ellipticals. I spent last week working out in my apartment gym and polling people on how I should handle the entire thing. I did go to the gym twice but at a different time. During this period, Block would email me (long story short, prior to this whole "thing" Block had offered me some freelance work so he now has my contact info...awesome). His emails were never professional and never crossed any lines. Simply annoying as fuck. I responded once to say I was working and he told me to call him. Talk about missing the point.

Anyway, Monday and Tuesday Block never showed up to the gym. I know it's silly but I convinced myself that he had relocated. Or would be out of town indefinitely. Or had moved on. Any of those would have been fine.

The gods are not on my side.

Block showed up today. And made a beeline for the treadmill I was on. So, here I am, minding my own business. I'm reading ESPN the Magazine and jamming to my tunes. Occasionally, I'm looking up at Sports Center to see what's up. Block lumbers over and hops on the treadmill next to me. He proceeds to ask me the dumbest, most obvious fucking question ever:

"Hey girl, what you doin?"

Um, seriously? Dipshit. Without even looking up, I answered in my best you-are-a-fucking-idiot voice, "Working out."

Block apparently does not appreciate my manners because he launches into a lecture on how I should look at people when they are talking to me.

I.Want. Him. The. Fuck. Away. From. Me.

I glance over and then proceed to remind him that I don't like to converse while working out. Perhaps a little less than polite but what the fuck ever. Seriously, he creeps me out and looking at him literally makes me want to vomit. I actually feel dirty and naked when he looks at me. Scrubbing for thirty minutes does not clean me up either. He gets PISSED at my comment and says he won't be talking to me anymore like he is punishing me. Little does he know, he has just made my dreams come true.

Fast Foward to 7 am and I'm at the smoothie bar. Gym crush saunters up in his Boston Red Sox attire (with matching shoes. Good lord, we could never date with his fashion sense). I had told him on Monday about the ridiculousness of Block after he commented on me not being around lately. (side note- he NOTICED I was gone. Probably because I obviously stare at him but whatever. He flirted with me yesterday and it. was. awesome.) So I fill him in on today's interaction and Gym Crush just loses it. He proceeds to tell me that is definitely what I should have done and then shares with me a story about Block that will be relayed to you tomorrow as part of a different post cause this is getting out of hand. Basically, the only way to keep Block away from me is to be a complete bitch. Suffice to say, Gym Crush walked me out so Block wouldn't have a chance to harrass me again but left me with this parting comment as I got in the car:

"Grrrrllll, 'dem shorts make yo pussy look phat!"

I am NOT a baker...sue me

So today I got a craving for brownies (could be due to Mother Nature...thanks for that). Anyway, a couple of weeks I was in Publix and brownie mix was on sale two for one so I picked it up thinking if I got invited to an event I could bring them.

Unfortunately...I AM NOT A BAKER.

AT ALL.

The first issue was that I thought I had everything I needed. And I did. Water. Check. Two eggs. Got 'em. Vegetable oil. Wellllll...kind of. See the recipe called for 1/3 of a cup. And I just barely missed out on that amount. So, I maybe, overcomepensated on the water.

The second issue is my love of brownie mix. Straight from the bowl. I know...it's not sanitary and is slightly immature. And I still have some on my face somewhere like a five year old. I'm guiltily hiding in my apt licking a bamboo spoon covered in Hersey Chocolate brownie mix.

It was delicious.

The cooked variety...not...so....MUCH. The edges are hard as a rock and the middle is slightly chewy. The good news is, I only have to walk about an hour tonight to burn the shit I did inhale off.

This is not what I look like when I'm baking...

Twitter Tuesday

I have been scouring the internet for people whose lives are in more shambles than my own(or at least equal to). However, I stumbled upon someone who is either delusional or very positive in that she considers her irresponsibility awesome. Since she lives in San Fran, it might be time for me to relocate. Damn, they are so much more accepting of everything. @ladymisskate has this to say in her bio: We all have ways of coping. I use sex and awesomeness. Amen, sister.

• BOOM
• I’d hate to be one of those people who drinks irresponsibly just because it’s St. Patrick’s Day, so I drink irresponsibly all year long.
• I would tell facebook to go fuck itself, but its probably already reading my mind without my permission.
• Plan is to down a beer for each run the @sfgiants score at Petco Park today, so if recent events are any indication, I’ll be horribly sober.
• Forgot to tell you guys, I had my first Dodger Dog on Sunday. Tasted like billshit & silicone so I guess they make them out of Heidi Montag.
• This whale’s vagina looks a lot like San Diego.
• The best part of road trips are the fruit stands along the way, and by fruit stands I mean anonymous truck stop sex.
• Bad songs are like bad boys. I am doomed to repeat them.
• If I have to blow my nose one more time, I’m gonna start to feel like it owes me dinner.
• My latest attempts at humor have been decidedly pathetic and mediocre. This must be what it feels like to be Jay Leno.
• If it weren’t for Foursquare I’d have no idea which bars I embarrassed myself at last night.
• Go Go Gadget Give a Fuck!
  
  *** I swear on all that is holy if this bitch dumps Twitter like Jesus and Pusswhateverthefuckhername was, I will give up. And probably kick a puppy. You’ve been warned.
  *** Anyone who tweets BOOM is automatically featured in Twitter Tuesday
  *** I shall commence using her last tweet everyday when my attention starts to slide (much like my use of Jumper and scchhhhhhoooop. Which doesn’t work but I continue to try. One day, I will teleport)

Would You Cheat With A Married Man?

With all the cheating scandals out there these days (hello Tiger, Jesse and allegedly Reggie) and a wealth of magazines to blow them up, the idea of cheating has been on my mind a lot lately. That may be due to the fact that I’m more wondering about the “ladies” these sleezeballs are sleeping with. I use the term “ladies” loosely because let’s face it not one of them has a shred of dignity (except maybe Rachel who parlayed her cheating into a million dollar settlement to keep her mouth shut, a job as a correspondent and possibly a role on the next season of Dancing With the Stars). As you can tell, I read a lot of gossip.

Anyway… I know there are instances where the other woman could have been duped into sleeping with a married guy buy how often? And where was their supposed innate sense of intuition that is so touted about women? I think you can definitely tell if a guy is off the market. If not right away, then pretty quickly. So I had to ask myself, would I ever knowingly help a man cheat on his wife? I say wife because there is a permanency to that promise and exchange of vows that the other woman really damages. Rather than a couple, she has the opportunity to really do some serious damage to a family, a career, friendships and a reputation.

I try to steer clear of saying I would never do something because

1. It’s more likely that I will (for instance, sometimes I don’t shave figuring it will stop me from being a ho. It doesn’t)
and

2. I’d be a hypocrite and you just don’t know what you would do in that situation until you’re knee deep in the shit with two options that both seem viable.

As you well know, I have a gym crush who recently had a baby. And I just discovered he IS married but doesn’t wear his wedding ring in the gym. He keeps it in his car, rather than the locker room and I would assume 9 times out of 10 that the guy is looking to cheat when the ring comes off but considering he’s mentioned her and their child to me multiple times without commenting on marital discord I highly doubt it. The fact is, despite his propensity to GTL, his wealth of piercings and tats, and his inexplicable taste in everything I hate in terms of style, he’s a genuinely nice and funny guy. Not to mention attractive with a body I’d love to run my hands all over. So, I cannot definitively say, “NO, I’D NEVER DO THAT”. In fact, I’m pretty sure if he asked me to hang out away from the gym I would say yes. And if somehow that turned into something sexual, I have a feeling my conscience would put up a token resistance before succumbing to “This could be something you regret. But you might regret it more if you don’t let him just pound right into you.” I also wonder if I was having sex regularly if that would stop me or if I’m admitting to this because my vagina is begging for me to be slutty.

What about you guys? Have you/ Would you be the other woman? Maybe you are currently- no judgement here (in fact, tell us about it anonymously below!). Have you cheated on a boyfriend/spouse?

Monday Musing

• Dear Georgia Tech Graduate, I would think that having gained admittance into the North Avenue Trade School you would know where you fit in on the road (and I don’t mean of life. I mean LITERALLY THE ROAD). Let me give you a hint: It’s not in the left lane of 85 South at rush hour. In fact, at first I was just going to say the left lane but I’m thinking during rush hour period since you seem unable to go at a speed in which the rest of us are comfortable with you should just go home and build a model rocket and work some other time.
• I’d like to take a moment to thank the pen that exploded in my purse covering not only my personal belongings in blue smurf-like ink but also a copy of Denis Leary’s book which I had planned to send to @centripetal this morning. Guess I'll be buying a third copy of the book.
• There is a woman at work whom I shall call Dragon Lady (mainly because I do around the office). She drives me crazy with rudeness and lack of respect for coworkers and we had it out a few weeks ago. Since then, she’s been extremely nice to me. I don’t know if its coincidence or I got through to her or she got laid or what. I have so say, I don’t know what scares me more- when she’s a complete bitch or so nice I want to punch her.
• Eric Church makes everything better. My iPod is currently set to him due to the concert my sister and I attended this past weekend. The Grascals, Jamey Johnson, Eric Church and Hank William’s Jr. I cannot even put into words what this concert was like. But if you like country, Eric is your man. This is my pick for my wedding song and if my non-existent future husband doesn’t like it, well, the wedding’s off.
• I’m relocating to another state and I have no idea where to start. A job would seem to be the obvious starting point but the whole idea of moving seems like such a chore with all these things I need to be thinking of.
• I once wrote a post about why I hate my job. It got me in some trouble but looking back on it, I really did hate my job so I guess my subconscious was trying to help me out there. Maybe I should write a post about why I love my latest job so much better than my last one. Just to stick it to them- like haha, you fired me for this but now I can do it all I want! I like to imagine their updated social networking policies are a result of my actions. Glad I left a mark.
• I forgot my underwear when I packed my bag this morning. So after a tough workout, I showered and went for it and it wasn’t there. I’m not going to lie these are not the best pants for this situation. Just rather uncomfortable.
• Why do people get so worked up about tickets? It a cop stopped you, you were doing something wrong. End of the discussion. There is no one you should be mad at except yourself for doing something wrong (or for getting caught anyway).
• Some days I really love listservs. Other days, fucking busch league. It’s so easy to offend people without even trying. Or annoy people with responses. Some people just have no clue how many fucking emails they are sending out.
• It’s National Pretzel Day. Go to www.pretzelmaker.com to find a location near you giving out free pretzels. They try to throw in some junk about singing for your snack but then realize its bullshit and say in the next line that if you just mention its national pretzel day, you get a free one. So waste of whatever right there.
• There is nothing worse than working with idiots. Nothing.
• I have a derby day shower I am going to on Saturday. I need a present, a dress and a floppy hat. Guess who is not going to get any of that until Saturday? This girl right here.
• I spend a majority of my money on food. I have got to learn how to cook. And how to ignore my cravings.
• I’m not feeling particularly funny this morning. Must be the weather.
• My hot pink nails remind me of high school spring breakers in their cutoffs and airbrushed shirts on their way back from Panama City Beach. Or a stripper. Either one.
• Apparently the United States is also to blame for the violence in Mexico because it is “our demand for drugs” and way of life that is breeding the violence. Look, just because someone is asking for drugs doesn’t mean that someone who provides them automatically shoots and kills children and police officers. Indirectly related? Yes. Directly? Not so much. They are pissed at you and your leadership, not us. Plus, we provided 1.3 million bucks to help you plus manpower, helicopters, dogs, and other shit. If we do it this way, then your country supplying is leading to violence in the US. Because you know, people are pissed they can’t get their fix and then are robbing and shit to get it. It’s the people that are the problem buddy.
• Roethlisberger raped that girl.Or something along those lines. End of discussion. Or you can read here how Milledgeville police ruined any chance they had of nailing this guy (pun intended).
  
  

dear moms.

i have decided to write a little note to all those young moms out there and all those young moms to be. yes, this is going to be bitchy. i have decided i do not want children and lets be honest. i do not really want to hear about yours. so with that, here i go.

dear moms and future moms -

congrats on your bundle of joy… you have embarked on an awesome journey and i know you’re really excited. but parenthood is not for everyone and not everyone is as excited about sally sue as you are. i know you embraced facebook while in college boozing and you have made it part of your life, but it really is not the place to talk about everything baby all the time. So lets start while you’re expecting. Yay Baby! Post it on your status, get some congrats, drop it. We have ALL been through sex-ed. We have all seen tons of pregnant women. Your belly gets bigger and bigger. We do not need to see your WEEKLY progress, especially at week 2 when you cannot even tell there is an alien brewing in there. You’re excited, I get it. ….fast forward 9 months and bam you’re in labor. We do not need to see in labor facebook pictures followed by pictures of your little one covered in placenta and nasty shit. Share those memories with those in the room not with the world wide web. Fuck, I want NO ONE in the room as I push & scream if and when I accidentally get knocked up. Ok so you have gone home with your little baby. Aww how cute. *vomit* Now we do not care about if your baby is vomiting everywhere or has diarrhea or bumped his/her head on the coffee table or has a pesky cough that just will not go away or cannot sleep though the night. 9 times out of 10 you’re the only one in your circle of friends who has a kid because shit we’re 25 or 26 and still want to have a life. We cannot give you advice. Here is my advice…. google --- find a parenting forum or google your question. I promise there is some mom (or dad) out there that can answer your question or had the same question in the past. Better yet, call your mother. She has had a kid, she can give you all the advice in the world. Me with my bottle of wine?! I am not a helper. Oh and as you complain about how you have not slept in days or keep having to go to the doctor or wash dozens of bottles, I would like to remind you that you really wanted a little spawn so you spread your legs and hoped and prayed that the test showed two pink lines. Basically: you asked for it. So little Sally Sue is a year or so old and you want to have another kid… why would you poll the facebook audience on when would be the best time to bring another kid into the world?? We’re all still in the party and travel age, we like to spend Friday nights at happy hour on a patio with the rest of our babyless friends, we do not have kids so we do not know when the best time to have another one is. I have an idea – do not have anymore. I do not think I can handle hearing about Sally Sue’s fever as well as Billy Bob’s inability to stop sneezing. I really hope all you potential and current moms out there take all this to heart. Oh and lastly, Sally Sue is actually not that cute so please stop posting pictures of your ugly child on the internet... but my office does get a lot of laughs out of them. laugh of disgust.

With love, Barbie :o)

Just so you all know, I am not jealous of people with kids. I am 4 steps away from defriending this girl on facebook over “Haley” posts every fucking day. The only reason why I am not is because I do not feel like dealing with her when I see her back in VA at Christmas Eve service. But I want to look her in the face and say, “your child looks like an alien and I do not give a flying fuck about her ailments that you are probably being over dramatic about.” I would like to remind her that she was the biggest cry baby growing up and she was always getting “injured” and having to go to the doctor. She is passing the drama queen & hypochondriac gene onto her daughter and thinking about bringing another child into this world. God help us all.

Did Hell Freeze Over or Did Tebow Go in The First Round?

I think, despite the low number of posts involving him, I’ve made my dislike to Tim Tebow pretty apparent. While I would say 20% of the dislike stems from the fact that he was and always will be a Florida Gator. As a Bulldog fan, I have been trained to dislike anything Florida upon learning of the association. In fact, I once named a pesky roach after Urban Meyer after their douchebag coach. The hatred has spread to South Carolina simply due to the fact that they hired that asshat (assvisor?) Head Ball Coach who apparently is giving himself more of a workout than his players so he can be harder on them thus driving them to success. Dude, let it go, they are the gamecocks for God’s sake.

Anyway, back to Tebow. Yesterday there was some chatter on facebook, specifically my friend Chris’ page about Tebow and the draft. Involving references to tears and eye black and general ridiculousness that surrounds him and including my very own, on the fly, Tebow drinking game. I was wondering the other day when the hell Jesus is planning on gracing us with his presence (third times the charm?) and how bad things will have to be for this to happen. Then I realized Tim Tebow IS Jesus. I mean things are pretty bad in the world right now and here’s Timmy boy giving small boys something to hope for by snipping at their manhood, making anti-abortion ads in which he divebombs his own Mother (shit, what is her name- Mary? Nope Pam) and, oh yeah, parting the red sea of football with his half-assed arm. I know, blasphemy you are thinking but whatever. My life is in shambles, I think it’s safe to say I have a long wait at the pearly gates so I might as well enjoy what I’m saying down here. What if Tim Tebow is our savior in a modern day sense? Suicide is frowned upon in Catholicism but if I have to drink Saint Timmy blood and eat his bread…whoa boy. I won’t make it.

Enough about Jesus. Another miracle (whoops) occurred last night in a sense that Timmy boy went in the first round. I had boldly predicted there might finally be some justice in this world and he’d go in the third round but NOOOO…Saint Timmy must have circumcised some extra boys and asked God for a favor while he had his ear because Denver used the 25th pick to snap up the former Florida Gator. Or perhaps, Denver knew they were his only option considering his Wonderlic score proved he doesn’t learn new things quickly so he needs a team with the same color scheme or he’s doomed for failure. Way to take one for the NFL Denver. Poor Knowshon. Luckily he’s a class act and will probably have nothing but accolades to heap upon his new teammate. I on the otherhand will be praying for Timmy’s mortality to be revealed so ESPN can find a new GREATEST COLLEGE PLAYER OF ALL TIME. With my luck, Denver will make use of him or he’ll be praised for making the team more cohesive and doing a bang up job holding a clipboard (“Do you see the way he wears those headphones? With authority. This team would be lost without him!” exclaims Joe Buck as he stares into Troy Aikman’s eyes). Jesus being his homeboy, they probably win the Superbowl, too.

Vomit.

Back Below 160

Whew. That oatmeal for breakfast- I'm- a- broke- ass- for-lunch and whatever-I-can-find-for-dinner is really paying off. Best Diet EVER.

Current weight: 158.7

I will take anything below 160 at this point. Ideally, my new shortened goal is to be at 156 by April 30.

In other news, I am at 80% of my goal for Team Challenge and CCFA. For those of you just joining, you can read about it here and once I tug at your heart strings with my love for my father you can donate whatever dollar you might find crumpled in you pocket by clicking here.

As for my training, doing a lot of crosstraining this week because the shins gave me the big f you the other day on a 30 minute jog. So, I said I hear ya guys and stopped. Which sucks because an 8 mile run is on the books for this week and it won't be happening.

Thirsty Thursday!

Whoop Whoop! You know I love a couple of things in life and I'm going to list them in no particular order:

1. Drinking
2. My family
3. My friends
4. My bed
5. Alliteration
6. Games


Yeah, I love all those things. And I love that Thursdays can finally be alliterated since I've FINALLY figured out how to handle that alliteration. Thursdays alliteration has been around, I just haven't known how to approach it until AisforAwesome and I were shopping on Sunday and I stumbled over this:

SUDODRINKU

Shut. The. Fuck. Up. God, I am such a damn dork but I love Sudoku so now you are telling me I can drink while playing...this is AMAZING. Anyway, you can click here to order it online for $9.95 plus shipping, handling, tax and all that shit. Or you can be lucky like me and stumble upon it in Marshall's for $4.99. I love my life.

The premise is simple- fill the puzzle out until it's complete. The last person to put a number in, wins. Everyone else finishes their drink. Bing. Bang. Boom.

Standard rules apply (can't have the same number in any row, column or square) but since you essentially MAKE the puzzle, anyone wins. You can also make it tougher by grabbing a sudoku book or puzzle from online and building it that way(you damn overachievers out there).

How does the drinking occur? Well my friends, the number tiles are double sided ( I love doublesided/reversible things too). Each turn you can play 4 tiles. Flip the fourth tile over and follow the directions which include: performing a gesture and the last one to do it drinks, making rules similar to kings cup, skipping a turn and taking a drink, assigning drinks to other players, social drinks and the arrow points out someone to drink. All in all pretty awesome and great for a small group of pregamers. Definitely something to do at the beginning of the night because as you get drunker I have a feeling this will get harder :)

Pullin' A Perez

No, I'm not outing someone online (like it would matter with my 7 meager followers). For those of you not in the know, Perez is a celebrity blogger and when I say pulling a Perez I'm referring to his habit of yanking stories from other blogs and throwing in a couple of words here and there to make it sound as though he wrote it and slapping it into the blogosphere. It drives me nuts. I am more of a give credit where credit is due kind of gal. Obviously, since I am crediting my lovers with each of their shitty and not so shitty moments on this very blog.

ANYWAY...

Today, I was perusing one of my most favorite blogs from my most favorite paper, The New York Post, when what should I stumble upon? Why, a photo gallery with celebrity first time sex stories attached to it courtesy of my boys over at PopWrap! Loves it! Some of them you will be dying to know about- Megan Fox anyone?- others, not so much (ummm ew Steven Tyler, just ew on so many levels). So click on over there and enjoy. Leave me a comment telling me your fav!

My First Visit From Aunt Flo

I grew up as the oldest of three with a sister who has the misfortune of being the youngest. I say misfortune because despite the awesome path my brother and I beat for her, she has to deal with having 4 parents when it comes to things like her chosen attire (“Get upstairs and put some clothes on” is my personal favorite thing to say to her when she comes down the stairs wearing shorts), her boyfriends (“We christened one Triangle Man and proceeded to sing that section of Particle Man by They Might Be Giants anytime his name was brought up) and her ever changing figure (her boobs just made an appearance. That has been fun). The problem for my sister is that I am a solid 11 ½ years older than her and my brother is a scant 2 years younger than me. So, the two of us combine powers to make her utterly miserable.

I bring this up because the youngest child (“the chosen one” as we like to call her) has recently come into womanhood with the start of her period. For some reason, to me, this is entertaining as hell. Maybe because she is 14 and I got mine when I was 11 so she seems old to be getting her period. And my mom is so damn proud of her for using a tampon already (I started using tampons at the age too! I just used pads for 3 years...jeez) Or maybe because she is stunning and talented and so damn nice this is one of the few things I can make fun of her for. But the poor kid got her period and is mortified. Imagine your father singing “W-O-M-A-N, you’re a WOMAN” as you come down the stairs that night. Her complaints made me think of when I got my period. Since it’s kind of funny, I thought I would share the story with the few readers who don’t know it yet.

I got my period in fifth grade. I was 5’6” and easily the second tallest kid in my new school behind my crush, Kurt. I woke up that morning and went downstairs to get some breakfast. While my pop tarts were toasting, I hit the bathroom (I had my routine down to a science at that point. I didn’t waste anytime getting my shit done). What should I see when I happened to glance down but red staining my new panties. Well…damn. And, yes, I really thought damn because I was a precocious kid who happened to be from Jersey. Cursing is the way of speech in my hometown. Anyway, I was a little unsure of what to do since I hadn’t thought my period would be coming anytime soon.

I stuffed some toilet paper in my panties and ran to the phone and called my mom at work. It’s not like I hadn’t had sex ed and didn’t know what was going on but I think I was panicked because it is totally different when it happens to you. My mom answered and the following occurred:

Me:“Hey mommy. There is blood in my underwear and I’m not sure why.”
Mom: “Hang up and don’t answer when I call back”

Turns out she wanted the phone to wake my step dad up. Which it did and she quickly summed up the situation. Not a minute later, he bellows my name from the top of the stairs. I meekly climb them, wondering what is going on. What happens next, well, I’m not sure who was more embarrassed me or him (probably me. At this point, he had taken me to the doctor for a yeast infection and taught me to shave so…he was well-versed). He pulls a pad out of the box and unwraps it as he explains what it is an how to use it. WHAT. THE. FUCK. Body awash in a blush so red I don’t even think there is a color to describe it, I yank the box out of his hand, turn and run into the upstairs bathroom and slam the door on his explanation.

The rest of the day, I must have gone to the bathroom 20 times before lunch. My teacher obviously noticed since I had to get a pass every time and pulled me aside while everyone went out for recess. She very gently asked me what was going on and I immediately burst into tears and sobbed the whole story not very delicately into her arms. I was terrified I would bleed through the pad so she let me go to the bathroom without asking the rest of the week. Thank God she made it just a tad easier on me because I know there were other times that I wasn’t so cautious and ended up in nurse Sally’s office calling my mom for a change of clothes right next to the kindergartner who pissed his pants!

So, do you guys have funny period stories? I can’t be alone in this! Do you still remember your first period as vividly as I do?

My First Trip to the Dermatologist

So yesterday marked my first and quite possibly last trip to see a dermatologist. Since I’ve never been to a dermatologist I didn’t know what to expect but what I got was nowhere near the customer service or attention one who is coming to the doctor for fear of skin cancer would hope to receive. You see, I am COVERED in freckles. And moles apparently. As is my brother, my father and all my father’s siblings. And their kids. They’ve been a part of my life since I was a small child due not only to hereditary and light skin but also to an increasingly active lifestyle that took place primarily on the beaches of the Jersey Shore and suburbs of metro-Atlanta. Between track, softball, football managing, cheerleading and just general clowning around, I’d say about 75% of my time was spent outside no matter the weather.

So when I noticed the mole on my right forearm had begun to raise and looked to have some darker pigmentation in the middle, I did what any normal 26-year-old would do: I flipped the fuck out and called my mom to calm me down. Then I called my PCP to get an appointment where I was directed to North Georgia Dermatology (apparently the only derm in my area that Kaiser covers). I was booked for a full body scan yesterday at 9:45 am. I expected a more thorough going over than what I got. In 5 minutes my Nurse Practitioner managed to cough all over the place (allergies apparently), shine a light on my mole, yank my gown off and do a cursory inspection and then tell me to wear sun screen and declared me “Moley” as she walked out of the door. All for the low price of $35 copay plus whatever they are charging these days for a “full body scan” since I haven’t met my deductible.

The whole experience left me with a sour taste in my mouth and more questions than answers by the time I got home. She did ask if I had any questions but I told her it was my first time and I was unsure what I should be asking so she left. Not much help nor did she do a whole lot to assuage any fears or concerns I had. Now, I’m left to try to determine what care I should have received and what steps I need to take next…out of pocket. For example, I had no idea there was a difference between moles and freckles. But there are. Thanks Doc for the heads up. Also, did you know that melanomas grow from the top layer of skin down meaning that examination by both you and your doctor increase your chances of finding and curing skin cancer? Did my doctor explain any of this? Nope. Not one word about the whys, hows or whats of skin cancer screening. Nothing except to slap some sun screen on.

For those of you interested, the American Cancer Society has a great summary of skin cancer as well as step-by-step instructions on how to do a self exam.

Wig-Out Wednesday

I know this will shock absolutely none of my five readers (especially since one of you follows me twice) but I. Am. A. Terrible. Driver. Which is ironic considering my own wrath directed at other drivers on the roads in Atlanta but I figure being a bad driver just goes with the territory of having a life in shambles. Along with having the misfortune of being in the wrong place in the wrong time and panicking in the wrong fashion thus making bad situations worse. In my defense, I at least know the basics of green means go, red means stop, yellow means get the fuck out of the way, the left lane is for people moving fast (as in faster than you so get the fuck over), blinkers are used to let other drivers know your intention to move through traffic in a horizontal fashion and just because you want to be in a lane doesn’t mean you get to be in said lane if someone else is already there.

But sometimes, my own misfortune -and inability to judge distance when in panic mode- gets the best of me. Take for example this past Saturday, when I tapped another car in the parking lot after some dickhead almost backed into me after I pulled out of my spot. I immediately pulled into an empty spot and jogged over to look at the other parked car. I didn’t see any damage but just to be on the safe side, I went to my car to look for a pen and paper to leave a note. Below is said note:

To Whom it May Concern:

I am very sorry to have to say this but I tapped your car as I was backing out of my spot. I am unsure of what damage I may have caused so here is my contact information. Please call me if we will need to file this with insurance as I would like to be sure you and your car are properly taken care of.

Thanks,
Berryfine
XXX-XXX-XXXX

I know this is what the note says because said note is still in my possession. Why would I write a note and not deliver it you ask? Well, because the asshole whose car I had the misfortune of tapping turned out to be sitting right there on a patio watching this entire episode. Below is the letter I would like to leave instead had I the opportunity to go back in time:

Dear Dickhead Who’s Car I Bumped,

Unfortunately, I am hung the fuck over and panicked after some asshole almost hit my car. In my haste to ensure my car was not hit, I accidentally hit the gas and reversed my car into your bumper going the insane speed of 1 mile an hour. Lucky for me, your car is a piece of shit.

Knowing you car is a piece of shit, I had two options. I could have been a bitch and driven off. Or I could be a considerate person and try to determine what damage, if any, I caused. Then, I could leave a note with my contact information so that your car could be taken care of. I chose the latter course of action and BOY. DO. I. REGRET. IT.

What the fuck was I thinking going inside a restaurant to get a pen after I was unable to locate one in my car? This, of course, is after I opt to pull into a spot and even take the time to leave you a note in the first place. After borrowing a pen from a woman who doesn’t even speak English and writing you a note explaining what had happened and how to reach me, how dare I think I should put this note on your car? What a bitch I am!

Then again, I never reached your vehicle to leave my apology. The minute I cleared the door, your punk ass yelled “Did you just hit my fucking car?” Well Captain Obvious, considering you were sitting there enjoying your $6 Panda Express with your fugly Carvel shirt wearing girlfriend and saw the whole thing, did I really need to answer that question? Furthermore, why didn’t you pipe up the minute you saw me park and move to check the damage of your car? Were you waiting to see what my next move was? Well, I imagine if I didn’t speed off pretending it never happened then the plan was to leave information for the owner of the car. So you could have saved us both some time and stepped up to the plate immediately at which point I would have handed over my insurance card for your perusal.

Instead, you and your 19-year-old, I-think-I-know-everything-ass, decided it would be far more productive and beneficial for both of us if you belittled and berated me for what was clearly an accident. Upset I can understand. But going bat shit crazy over what amounted to absolutely nothing and scathingly asking me if I did damage to your car is a bit overdramatic. It’s not like your car was totaled and I drove away. Your car had nary a scratch that hadn’t previously been on it and I still made sure I was making necessary information available for you. So dial your attitude down a notch. Trust me when I say your 1986 Toyota what the fuck ever it is ain’t worth the money my insurance information is printed on.

Throughout this entire ordeal, I was nice enough to apologize and repeatedly offer you my contact information and insurance card. You were so pissed you cut off your nose to spite your face and said “Whatever.” Whatever? Well, whatever right back at you buddy. I tried to behave like an adult and you behaved like a 5 year old who got pissed when he went to the store to pick out a toy and couldn’t narrow it down in the allotted time so went home with nothing.I'd also like to thank you for your sarcastic "Drive carefully." when I walked back to my own car. I think what you meant was, next time you hit a car in the parking lot, don't dillydally, drive the fuck away. The best part about this whole situation? You waited until I drove away to get your scrawny ass out of your chair and amble over to even look at your car. At which point you started pointing out imaginary damage that my plastic bumper caused your steel car at a whopping 1 mile an hour. I hope like hell I was wrong and there is a shit ton of damage to your car that you cannot afford to fix, you douche bag.

Sincerely,
Berryfine

PS. Get a fucking haircut.

Twitter Tuesday + Winner Announced!

Let's get the winner announced first because you can follow him on twitter as well! @centripetal happens to find me amusing on the two blogs he follows. For that I thank him. While my contest has not yielded a single new follower (bummer) it did get @centripetal a free book just as soon as he gets me his address so I can send it to him!

Now, for this week's twerson(? maybe? I feel like I can add tw to a lot of shit and make it into a twitter friendly word but I guess I'm wrong). This week, I'd like you to follow a woman after my own heart. Currently my favorite description of myself is sarcastic and my favorite word to use during a road rage rant is cunt (I know, I know). Put them together and you get: @sarkastickunt! Reasons I like her: she is a social drunk, a flirt and her background is bottles of pills spilling everywhere. This bitch has her priorities straight. Now, in her own 140 characters, I give you @sarkastickunt:

• My daughter just told me she is breathing through her ears. Maybe I should have stopped celebrating 4/20 sooner than I did.
• Apparently the more tit you show on your wedding day, the more serious you are about your wedding vows.
• If "thinking" is code word for masturbation, I think so much I have carpal tunnel.
• I'm laying in bed trying to find my motivation. So far, it's not at the bottom of two bags of chips or three bowls of cereal. I'm stumped.
• My kids remind me everyday to be a better person and how important birth control is.
• Real men don't cry. Unless you sleep with all their friends.
• Chocolate is my anti-drug. Unless I'm doing actual drugs.
• If at any time you find yourself singing a Justin Bieber song, find the nearest store that sells poison and pour yourself a glass.
• In my room getting ready to do dirty things to the hotel bar.
• Happy people are assholes.
• If potato chips were vodka I'd be fall down drunk right now.
• I love him more than I did yesterday. It still isn't enough to be faithful, but I'm working on it.
• "thinking about deleting my account"

My ex is MARRIED

Okay, I've known this for a while but finding out he was on facebook and the subsequent stalking revealed they are, in fact, still married. Shocking considering she was hopping from Marine to Marine in an effort to secure a Green Card.

It's so weird to imagine an ex of mine married. Especially one who pretends to be smarter than he is. Some gems from his facebook page:

• Fancy the great outdoors from mountain biking to surfing. Prefer to be in shape so gym sessions are part of my weekly schedule. Tend to want to fix things and use my imagination to make things better like home improvments. I religiously do things myself because this economy makes the comfort of hiring a professional somewhat far fethced.
• Attending school to materialize a diploma is a recent interest and I stress the importance of an education everyday. I have a drive to succeed so reading books that follow suite in the attainment of self-actualization is common. The end result of everything I pursue is to help others through healthcare management and the nursing field. I'll be a little "Focker" just like the movies.
• Music full of expression, almost an art form from the sound of it. Instead of listing what I listen too I will just list what is scarce in my Ipod. Hip/hop, rap, and music that is derogatory just makes no sense to experience, however, I have some music that holds a beat.
• "Avatar" is my favorite movie followed by Out Cold and Without a Paddle. I base my favorites from fantasies of living in the context of the worlds portrayed in each film.

I know, you probably read that and thought to yourself, "WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU DOING?!?!?!" I have no idea. Except it was fun dating a Marine with my best friend. Because we dated guys stationed together we got to take road trips, fly to Cali, attend Marine Corp balls, etc. Shallow? Yes. But I was 21 and having a good time. But back to the marriage thing...It somehow feels like I failed. Am I alone in this? It's like what do I have to show for anything?

And, another thing, what is the deal with exes moving on and actually becoming able to commit AFTER you invest time in a relationship with them? Why the hell do I feel as though I'm setting my exes up for their next relationships ala Good Luck Chuck? BUSCH.LEAGUE.

Off the Wagon

Not the alcoholic wagon (you'd have to get on that one to fall off)...but the health kick I was on came to an end last week due to a combination of things- a creepo hitting on me, a busy schedule and not feeling so well combined to just derail my focus. And in the process my progress.

I'm back up to 161 from 155 and I'm depressed about it.

Nothing like hopping on the scale to kick your ass back into gear though. I'm readjusting my schedule for a bit (see ya 5 am workouts) until I feel more comfortable about hitting the gym. The guy is seriously a weirdo and I do not want to encourage him to spend any time looking in my direction. Hopefully an early morning sabbatical will encourage him to look elsewhere. I may even pick up those weightlifting classes since the 5 am workouts won't be an option anymore.

The food is my biggest issue but this week I will get back on cooking for myself every day. I started tonight by making a boca burger with a side of potatoes. Lately I've been hungry every hour or so which is freaking me out but I'm not sure what to do about it except eat. Rather than reaching for something completely unhealthy, I made myself a salad.

Another thing I think hurting me was the bread. AGAIN. As soon as I was able to eat it, I was shoveling it into my mouth. I need to continue on the Lent path and just steer clear of it. It's like a drug for me. Once I have some I just cannot stop craving it. There is no balance for me at this point with bread so for now, I just need to cut it from my diet until I feel ready to incorporate it in a healthy way (bye pizza, pasta, bagels and subs...)

So, with that being said, I'm hoping back on the workout train with a 30 minute run tonight per my Team Challenge training. Tomorrow will be a 4 mile run. Wish me luck!

Also, song of the week, getting me pumped up (thanks to hearing it/ dancing it at a wedding) is Soulja Boy Tell 'Em's Crank That. Just watched a video of Knowshon doing the dance at the UGA-Auburn 2007 football game and it has me all pumped for my run.

Monday Musings- Wedding Edition

• If I ever get married, the key word being if, I will have more than one hairdresser for the occasion. This way, we don’t have to be sitting around a fucking house from 9 am on while one person at a time gets ready when the wedding isn’t until 6 pm.


• David’s Bridal fucked up my shoes royally. See I always try a size up from what I wear when I buy heels. Especially of the peep toe variety. I knew my size was 9 and ordered accordingly. Well the dumb bitch at David’s thought to herself, “These shoes run large and I know better than the person ordering them so I’m going to fix that.” Did she mention that? Nope. And I had tried the shoes on so I KNEW I NEEDED A SIZE 9. I got a size 8.5. My feet want to cut her into pieces.


• Red shoe dye will rub off. Subsequent washings will not remove it.


• DREAMCRUSHER. That is my new nickname for myself. Some people crash weddings, I ruin dreams of gals in monogamous relationships hoping for a ring. Case in point: some poor girl (we’ll call her L) has been dating a friend of mine for years (we’ll call him M). L was front row, center. Patiently awaiting a toss of the sunflower bouquet. I come up, slice my hand across my throat. To which she pretends to joke back that I am going down. But she means it. The guys starting chanting L because they know M will be pissed if she catches it. She turns to say something to the girl to her left, bride throws bouquet. I reach my left arm out and snag the bouquet. The crowd is silenced. L turns around, dreams are dying as I race around the yard of the courthouse laughing that I have done this for a second time. I am evil.


• My red dress had pockets. It was clutch because then I didn’t have to worry about a purse through the entire thing. All bridesmaids dresses should include these.


• Outdoor wedding at the historic Lawrenceville courthouse- it was AMAZING. Definitely on my list of places to recommend to others.


• Mash potato bars are the jam. Everyone should have one at their wedding.


• Bottles of wine as the gift to the guest also a great idea. Unless your guests don’t drink. But if they don’t drink, why on earth did you invite them?


• If you are ever stuck on what to get a couple for a stock the bar shower (or even a kitchen shower), pick them up a nice collapsible cooler and have it monogrammed with their initials or last name. Include in it, two plastic champagne glasses and plastic knives, forks, spoons and plates. As well as linen napkins and anything else you might think of. Make sure they know this is for the night of the wedding, have the coordinator fill it that night with left over food for them to enjoy at their hotel. Trust me, they won’t have time to eat much during their reception.


• If you have UGA fans at your wedding, play Soulja Boy Tell’em "Crank That". Then watch white people try to superman dat ho for a good laugh.


• If you have bridesmaids coming to hang around all day, also consider having an attendant who can take some of the pressure of MOB. For instance, my friend AisforAwesome made a store run and an ATM run for me when I realized that I had forgotten cash to pay the woman who did our hair. She picked up booze and toilet paper as needed.


• Also, have games and shit. I asked the Jr. Bridesmaid to bring some from home and she came with Boutique Monopoly, Trouble and Apples to Apples. It helped alleviate the stress and boredom. It kept us entertained for a period as well. Also consider bringing a laptop and iPod as well.


• Cupcake Tower…BEST.IDEA.EVER.


• Grooms cake at the rehearsal dinner v. the wedding. Another fantastic idea.


• Pulling the flower girl in a wagon down the aisle is a great idea as well.


• Is it true that if it rains on your wedding day its good luck or is that just something we tell brides freaking the fuck out over drops of water?


• Add Trolley to your list of things that must be present at your wedding. It has a classic feel to it plus its fun. For everyone. And I have the feeling the pictures will be awesome.


• Speaking of pictures, if you are in the Atlanta area, book my friend Jess Fouts for your wedding photos (and any other photos). She does a fantastic job. You can check her out here.

Dreamcrusher and the Bride on the balcony of the historic Lawrenceville courthouse.

Dating Backwards

So a friend of mine was propositioned on the website plentyoffish.com the other day and when I say propositioned I mean propositioned. The guy admitted straight off the bat that he was looking for someone to sleep with first, possibly date later. Then admitted he grows bored with people. Not exactly a prime candidate for a long-lasting, monogamous relationship.

However, this began a post on her blog that lead to a discussion of dating backwards. Okay, discussion might be exaggerating but it got the wheels in my own head turning. In analyzing my past relationships, I realized that aside from high school, all my relationships have begun in the dating backwards fashion. Fuck, date, break up seems to be a pretty consistent cycle I’ve been trapped in. And for those of you about to say I have low self-esteem which leads to me behaving in this fashion, save it. I know. But it’s only part of the reason. The other 80% of the reason I do it this way is because I get drunk, make a terrible decision (but it’s a fun one!) and then fall into doing it repeatedly. And a relationship is born. Not the smoothest transition, I’ll admit. But also not one I’ve been in too much of a hurry to change. I refuse to feel bad about my decisions, instead I’d like to look back on them fondly and possibly learn something in my own good time. So save your lectures for someone who cares to hear them.

Probably the worst case of this occurrence would involve my friend and former WHATEVER, Ryan. You see Ryan and I somehow managed to attend the same school and same social functions for years and not interact AT ALL. Fast Forward a solid 6 years later and we’re at a trivia night with a mutual friend just pounding drinks. Mind you it is a Wednesday night. We both have work in the morning. Our friends are teachers and on Christmas break so they have no problem getting hammered. We don’t either.

The mutual friend invites everyone back to her house where we start playing beer pong and just generally being drunken idiots. Somehow, Ryan and I end up being the last awake and we just keep going until about 4 am. Then we’re like, damn, we need to sober up so we can head home and get ready for work (mind you I was living with my rents at this point, who had no idea where the fuck I was). We head into the house to try to locate a couch to crash on and find them all taken. Everyone, including our mutual friend but minus her roommate, is passed out in various positions around the living room. Drunk as we are, we think we might as well take the mutual friends room for a quick nap. Nap might have been my thought but it definitely was not his...

Before I know it, we are having sex in our mutual friend’s bed. For what feels like forever. When it finally ends, I’m up and throwing on my clothes. For a couple of reasons:
1. I just met this guy and at 24 I know better than this
2. I realized I was having sex without a condom or birth control so plan b needed to happen asap (as well as a drs appt.)
3. I am horrified (haha which contains the word HO) that I am sleeping with someone in my friend’s bed. How fucking rude am I?

Of course he immediately follows suit and then walks me out to my car. Gets my number and a whatever is born. Did it last? No. Was it the best relationship I’ve had? Actually, even with the fights and the never knowing our status, yes. Would I do it again if I had a chance to go back? 99% sure. If you could guarantee me things would work out, 100%.

More on my thoughts on dating backwards will be revealed at a later date…

What the Hell is Wrong with You People!?!?!

So today is Wednesday Wigout and I'm about the wig out. Not really but I am slightly confused as to how I posted a contest and only ONE person has made any kind of comment or link about it. Do you people not like winning shit? I love winning shit. Even shit I won't use, like a golf dvd because hey, guess what? I don't play golf! But I might just start whenever that free dvd gets here because it comes with a case of Blu Frog energy drink and I will be so hopped up those kids from Talladega Nights will be jealous.

Do you not read? It's good for you. Did you know that? Especially you older folks. You don't want to lose gray matter. You have precious little after the escapades of your youth. Combine that with the facts of life (aka dementia) that are slowly creeping in and you need something to help keep you sharp. Enter reading. Don't like reading? Fine, use it as a fucking coaster. Light it on fire, I don't give a fuck. Just enter the damn contest.

Maybe you aren't a fan of Denis Leary. Is he too brash for you? Too intelligent? I believe they call them thinking men comedians. Win the book and give it to someone else for all I care.

But it is supremely annoying to think I'm throwing out something free and you people don't give a shit. What is that about? Let's review- you tell people about my blog and they become public followers (public is key here people. Otherwise I can't see them), you link my blog to your blog, twitter or facebook, or you just comment and tell me your favorite post and YOU COULD WIN. Good Lord, it will take you all of 5 minutes. Just go to this post to enter!

Wig out- complete. Please return to your regularly scheduled Hump Days.

YOU COULD WIN!

Hope that got your attention because I'm about to ask a HUGE HUGE HUGE favor. As everyone knows, I am running the Boston 13.1 in June for Team Challenge. I have been posting on facebook to the point of annoying any friends I might have had and hosted several benefits so I know how difficult it can be to get people to part with their hard-earned money. Especially in this economy. That being said, I'm about to plug someone else's fundraising efforts and you could be a big winner :)

A friend of mine from high school, Leigh, is running the Susan G Komen Race for a Cure for the second time and has done a fabulous job fundraising so far. She reached her goal of $500 and would like to continue to raise much needed funds. Leigh runs in honor of her aunt who was diagnosed with breast cancer 5 months after her marriage of 30+ years crumbled. Her husband had walked out on her and now she had this horrible disease to fight. She had her last surgery this past winter and has been officially declared in remission. In fact, she is running with Leigh!

Not only is Leigh one of the kindest people I know (she's helped me out with everything from high school to present day- often times without being asked) but this is a cause that I am personally affected by as well. My own grandmother passed away two years ago from breast cancer after a 10+ year battle with the disease. In fact, her birthday would have been this past Monday and her passing is fast approaching. She was one of the greatest women I ever knew and she handled her ordeal with a grace and dignity that cannot be put into words. I would love if all of you would take the time to donate to Leigh and help her race for a cure to a disease that affects 1 in 8 women.

And, as I previously mentioned, you could win a cool prize. Just click this link and donate at least $5 and you will be entered in a raffle to win either an iPod shuffle or an iTunes giftcard (the equivalent price). Donations must be made today or tomorrow. Entries are limited to one per person. Pass the link on to anyone who might be interested as well!

Do YOU Get Naked in the Locker Room?

So today was an interesting day to say the least at the gym. After being hit on by a creepo, I hit the locker room and came out of the shower to be greated by a naked woman. I mean FULL ON NAKED. I know it's a locker room and I should expect this but to be honest with you, most of the women make use of the changing room or the bathroom stalls. Some will change right out in the open but they make it pretty quick and keep the towel on until the very last second. This bitch was full on massaging her entire body with lotion for like 15 minutes while I was blowdrying my hair and try as I might, I couldn't look away from her reflection. I half expected her to orgasm right there in the locker room. And she seemed to think she was the hottest thing to come through Gold's Gym but she was literally all bone and skin. I could count her ribs through her back and her ass was SAGGY. Speaking of her ass, she spent five minutes putting lotion on that particular part of her anatomy alone. And watching the not firm, saggy ass of a 20 year old jiggly and move in weird directions was not something I would like to repeat. On top of the I'm not sure if this is funny or horrifying part of the whole thing, she was completely fucking naked except for a pair of neon green wedge flip flops. I wish I could have taken a picture because I cannot do her justice with a mere description.

So, I guess my question is this, WOULD YOU/COULD YOU/DO YOU get naked in the locker room for an extended period of time? Have you witnessed some nudity you wished you hadn't? Would it be inappropriate for me to tell her just how uncomfortable she made me if it happens again?

I Ain't No Ass or Tittie's Man

"I ain't no ass or titties man."

So says the creepy as fuck black guy who hits on me at Gold's Gym. I don't think he is trying to be intentionally creepy, just extremely obvious and it creeps me, personally, out. Usually he just comes over and tells me not to lose anymore weight and then licks his pillowy lips and checks out my legs (come to find out the legs are not his focus...more on that later).

Today, he was feeling a LITTLE more bold. Some might say brash. Or adventuresome.Or crude. Or even straight up perverted. There I am, no makeup, red gym shorts, gray t-shirt and sweat. Just chugging along on the elliptical and reading ESPN the Magazine (yes, I really am every guys dream girl...I kid.) when in walks this guy and his buddy. Since I happened to glance up, I waved. Because I didn't want to be rude.

Warning bells should have gone off.

Homeboy, and yes, he was a homeboy and not because he's black, hopped on the machine next to me and again started commentary on my weight. Saying once again that I have lost too much weight (for the record the last time he said that to me I weighed in at 158. Today, I weighed in at 158). Then it was like the floodgates opened. He proceeded to tell me how attractive I was and ask me all kinds of questions. Where I'm from (New Jersey)? What I do(medical billing)? Do I like it(no)? What do I want to do (journalism)? Do I have a boyfriend(...)?

I totally lied on that last one. If anyone asks, I've been in a relationship with my current beau for one year and four months. Where the fuck did that come from? I have no idea. I just knew I did not want this guy to think he had a shot. Especially, when the next line of conversation started after seeing ass padders (exactly what it sounds like) on Fox 5 and pointing them out to him.

"Yeah, I ain't no ass or titties man," he says.

"Oh?" (I thought this was very noncommittal...apparently not)

After a solid 30 seconds go by in which he stutters and generally looks like he can't think of what to say next...

"Are you trying to come up with a polite way to say whatever it is you are currently thinking?"

"Yeah but since you asked I'm just gonna say it," he laughs. Looks me in the eye and says:

"I like a fat pussy."

I'm sorry did I miss the train on this one? What the fuck is a fat pussy and how do you tell a girl has one without going down there and inspecting? Are we talking Lauren Conrad and beef curtains (thanks Perez for being a dick about that to the poor girl)? Or a vortex of whatever down there in between the lips? If so, apparently I'm his kind of gal. Is there anything you can do to ensure you have a fat pussy or is this just something god gives you? New spring break t-shirt: Official Pussy Inspector.

Would one call Coco's pussy fat? And is this the kind of attire you need to tell?

"I can usually tell with most women but with you...I'm having some trouble."

THANK CHRIST. Good lord, don't tell me if you do figure it out. Though I might have to go Charlotte on my vag and grab a mirror to take an inspection!

***Just for fun, this would be the person (and his company) that told me that. I figure you put it out there in a public place, I'm more than welcome to put it out there on my blog.