Dear Wes Welker

Dear Wes Welker,

I might just be in love with you. I'm not sure you understand. The blog has been supremely heavy on photos of men I'd like to fuck lately but that won't stop me from sharing this picture with my readers:

Holy fuck me please?!?!

Like can we be real for a minute? How much of this is photoshopped? Because I AM LOVING IT. The bomber jacket, the ball handling, the piercing blue eyes. Oh and don't even get me started on how that scruff would feel when you kiss me. Good Lord, what do I have to do to get you to give me the time of day?

And lest you think it is only your body I am lusting after... posts like this one from Barstool Sports really get me going as well. Hot and Humble? Does such a combination actually exist? A side note: dude, you're fucking your contract up. Knock it off.

And then there is commentary like what I have added below. Look, I know you should take the high road and stick with the ball talk but let's be honest: REX HAD THAT SHIT COMING. And, personally, I like your style. Your sense of humor shows intelligence. As does the apology you gave afterward saying you know better. You, my friend, are a class act but that won't stop me from showing my readers the video anyway:



Seriously though, is there anything wrong with you? Because if not, I am going to starve myself skinny, hunt you down and make you fuck me (but it won't be like forcing you cause you'll want to, right?). Also, if that chick Anna Burns you are allegedly "dating" gets in my way don't think that will stop me.

XOXO,
Berryfine

PS. I am digging this photo as well.

How the Prospect that Wasn't a Prospect moved from Ego Booster to Prospect

Without getting too maudlin, I had to go out of town this week for a death in the family. You know how they say there is always a silver lining? Or that love bites you in the ass right when you stop looking?

Ohhhhh look, he's texting me right now.

Anyway, a while back I examined my gaggle and though I didn't know it, I had an ego booster on my hands. I referred to him as the 70s throwback and that is still pretty accurate but things have changed a bit. Quick recap: he lives in my hometown, drives a car from the 70s, wears ridiculous clothing from the 70s, 80s and 90s (like a soft rock radio station in the flesh if you will) and I met him through friends. We talk constantly (via facebook, text and phone) and he's just like become one of my best buddies I guess.

All that changed with a photo text and a death in the family.

You see on NYE, homeboy shaved his full beard and mustache (resulting in my calling him Babyface) and went to a party. The picture he text me made me realize holy shit there is an attractive guy under all that 70s shit. So not only is he funny and incredibly intelligent but he's also hot? I know it sounds vain but whatever I want to want to wake up next to a guy every day so he needs to be attractive in some way.

When I had to head to NJ for the funeral, the person I thought to get in touch with was my Ego Booster (because you really need an ego boost when you lose someone). He entertained me with texts on the LOOONG (14.5 hours to be exact) trek north and on Friday night picked me up to take me out on the town. After two solid days of family...completely sober...I needed alcohol and friends and The Ego Booster did just that.

I got hammered.

And he made sure I got back to our friend's house. He made sure when I passed out on the couch that I got a bed upstairs while the party continued downstairs. I woke up in the morning surrounded by a cocoon of warmth and with a slight hangover. But after thinking back on it, I realize there was no sense of panic. I didn't wonder where I was or who I was with or what I did. I knew I was with him and I was okay. That is a hell of a feeling to wake up to.

And suddenly, on the drive back to my dad's I found myself wondering if my Ego Booster was more than an Ego Booster. Perhaps, he had turned into a viable option?

I spent Saturday night (soberly) hanging out with him and his friends and had a blast while he got drunk. Sunday we spent the day and late into the night texting. Monday, the day I was to leave, he came and picked me up and what I thought was just two friends going to grab breakfast together had turned into the Ego Booster buying my breakfast. According to a mutual friend, even just Friday night was out of the norm for him as he NEVER picks anyone up. Twice in three days hardly seems like a coincidence.

The only awkward moment was at the end when he went to drop me off after breakfast. I would have lost it that weekend had it not been for him. Saying good bye to him hardly seemed adequate. And when I leaned in for the hug I couldn't help but wonder what would happen if I leaned in for a kiss, too? For a brief moment, our eyes connected and I think we both wondered but I broke the moment with a hasty goodbye so I guess I'll never know....

Hump Day Hotties

Sometimes, quite by accident, I stumble across someone on facebook and use my internet stalking to discover they are actually well-known by other people. That thing happened while on the hunt for this Hump Day Hottie. Meet Tribble Reese who has a Wikipedia that indicates he played college football. No he models or is attempting to here in Atlanta. I'd say, judging from these photos he has a good shot. Apparently, he is 6'3" which puts him at the perfect height in my world.

I'm giving him a 9 out of possible 10. There is just something about him that looks douchey meaning in the Kill, Marry, Fuck realm he'd be a fuck not a marry. Your thoughts?

Hump Day Hotties

I don't know how the rest of you are faring but in Atlanta, the city has SHUT THE FUCK DOWN. Meaning I'm alone. Horny. Watching Porn. Thank God for this blog and searching for hot pieces of ass to share with you or I'd be bored as fuck.

Say hello to James....and ask him to cuddle the warmth back into you with his insane arms (have I mentioned I have a thing for arms?). This Southern boy living up North knows a thing or two about the cold and could punch his way through a snow drift to get to you if he needed, too. Plus, he's presentable as fuck in that suit!

Ladies, what say you? I give this guy a 9. I wish I could have found a shirtless picture but if his arms are anything to judge by, I'd say he's got you covered in that department as well!

Twitter Tuesday

I know it's been a while since I did a Twitter Tuesday for you guys so I'm taking a break from a 12+ hour work day to troll Twitter for funny people. You can thank me later.

Check Out: @SassyPantssss
Bio:  I'm a cardiovascular technologist, exercise physiologist, whogivesafuckologist... Nothing nice to say? Come sit by me! Unless you're a cranky fuckwad.


My favorite Tweets:

• @4_petesakes61 I might tweet like a total cunt, but I'm actually very NON confrontational IRL. I think I'm gonna do the same as you would.
• When you see a stolen tweet in your TL, do you call them out for being a plagiarizing fuckstick or simply unfollow?
• Getting ready for work is so much fun til you realize it was all a dream & you've slept through your alarm again.
• Perhaps my bio should include a warning about the risks of applying my tweets to a sand chafed twat.
• I'm gonna create a list of followers called "borderline unfollows if they don't stop with the fucking football tweets."
• Some1 unfollowed me for my anti football tweet. I feel bad knowing his vagina weeps for the shitty team he was cheering for.
• My neighbors don't seem to understand my dog follows commands better when they're preceded by the words "Hey asshole!"
• I'm gonna go build a snowman. Wait. Did I say snowman? Oh well... I'm sure you know I meant snowcock.
• I just checked out who Twitter thinks is similar to me. I dunno who I feel more sorry for... me or them?
• How many times are you supposed to say "bless you" when someone sneezes before you're allowed to punch them in the face?
• My favorite jeans have more rips & tears than a labor & delivery ward.
• You know who doesn't give a shit about the place or time? Bowels.
• Why do people say "red head?" I think they mean "orange head." Or "fire crotch." (Goodbye orange haired followers).
• Watching my boss fail to get his tiny catheter into a woman's huge vessel sure explains why his wife is such a stabby cunt.
• Some asshat didn't wave after I let him thru so I ran him into a ditch. Feeling much better about the situation now.

WTF?!?!?! I'm not a Capricorn?

Blah blah blah, some bullshit...blah blah blah the sign you were born under isn't correct. WHAT?!?!?! Ummm rewind. According to bunches of news sources, some astrologer is telling us we aren't what we think we are. I, for one, am upset. This is worse than finding out Pluto isn't a planet anymore (which, coincidentally, is up for debate).

So previously, I was under the impression that I was a Capricorn. Strangely enough Wikipedia doesn't have any section devoted to the qualities. WTF?
You are a tireless worker, to the point of self-martyrdom. You'll do any and all work assigned to you, so that you can impress your superiors and gradually move up the ladder. You will eventually gain more and more status and wealth, but it takes a long time. That's okay with you, though—you've always understood this.

Chances are, you come from a poor background—like the baby Jesus—and you decided early on that you would work as hard as you could to improve your standing for your family. In fact, you have an innate fear of poverty, so much so that once you've achieved a rank or two in the world you will fight to the death to keep it.

This is also in keeping with your far-thinking approach to life, as determined by the slow-moving Saturn. You plan, plan, plan. You save, save, save. One would think you a dour person for all this work, but you have your moments of joy— after all, the words saturnalia and bacchanalia apply to you, and both define wild abandon.

You probably already know a lot about sacrifice. You were the one who stayed up caring for a sick relative when you were a kid, instead of playing with your friends. You're the one who keeps the family together, in fact, when members drift off. You're the glue, the controlling force in this world. Without you, it would simply fall apart.

Similarly, you have a great sense of tradition. You respect what you've inherited, and you believe in cherishing it and handing it down in the same state or better. Be it a grandparent's locket or the oral history of the family, it's safe with you.

Like your neighboring signs, Sagittarius and Aquarius, you are proudly intellectual. But you're not as argumentative as a Sagittarius. Yours is a quieter wisdom—if you know you're right, you don't believe you have to get into an all-out war just for the show of it. The truth will win out.

For this reason, you make an excellent teacher. In fact, you see the world as very structured, and as you gain rank in the system, you believe in teaching those below you. If you are a teacher, you're probably very strict. It's not due to malevolence, just a strong sense of tradition, of wisdom, of right and wrong, of the merits of hard work. 


Now, according to the new dates(Dec 17-Jan 20), I am actually a Sagittarius. And here is the description:

Sagittarius is the sign of the zodiac mainly concerned with philosophy, higher education and global thinking. It is ruled by Jupiter, the planet of expansion, benevolence and luck/fortune. Individuals who have a strong Sagittarian influence are typically interested in expanding their horizons through traveling abroad, learning foreign languages, or immersing themselves in unique cultures. These individuals thrive on higher education; once they find a subject(s) they’re passionate about, they will search relentlessly for more answers and more information to build on what they know. They are also fond of ethics, as it appeals to their philosophical nature and is a subject that is so contextually dependent that they’re skilled at being flexible in applying sound philosophical observations to complex situations.

Because Sagittarius is a mutable sign, they are generally very adaptable philosophically because they seek to understand the world from a higher perspective and are perspicacious in finding higher meanings through their varied encounters. They tend to be optimistic and have a great capacity for faith, as it is this good-natured faith that usually plays into their fortunate endeavors. They are not usually known for their reliability (unless they also have a significant Capricorn influence) because their attentions have a tendency to be scattered.

Sagittarius is a fire sign, which imparts a fiery enthusiasm that shows through their (blunt) sincerity, honest convictions and drive for independence. They enjoy adventures and are partial to the great outdoors.

Can I be honest here? I actually don't think I like either description now that I looked at it. So fuck it, don't ask me my sign on a date because you will not like the rant that ensues. 

Why Cougar Town is Ruining My Chances at Love...

I love, love, love Cougar Town. Which I think I made pretty clear when I featured them in the Sex Song of the Week (sidenote: We need to bring that back). The problem is I think the show might be ruining my chance at love.

Why?

I want a Grayson, damnit. 

Not just because he's fine. There is more to him than his exceptional looks. He is endlessly patient. And funny. A little quirky. Hard shell, soft inside. Can laugh at himself. But has a sensitive side, too. For instance, this episode of Cougar Town is what started this mini rant.

Jules is a fucking neurotic, crazy bitch. Who the hell could get away with throwing out the love word and still have a boyfriend? One who lets you babble on about fucking doves mating for life. And then you name them Grayson Dove and Jules Dove. And it's fucking cute that Jules did that.

If any of us ran over a squirrel, wrapped it in our boyfriends brand new cashmere sweater, took it to a vet and insisted he treat it and when that didn't work, capture another one in a cage to free just to make your boyfriend feel bad about not caring as much as you do we'd be dumped quicker than we could even get to the second item on that list. 

So then...on top of all this, fucking Grayson actually DOES feel bad after she suddenly decides this is all God's way of telling her that she and Grayson are too different. So bad, that Grayson finds a way to appease Jules AND tell her he loves her for all the cul-de-sac to hear.

WELL DAMNIT. I want that. I'm nuerotic. Not as cute but neurotic. And semi batshit crazy. I want someone with patience who can make me feel better but still be super sexy and laugh at himself and tell me I'm an idiot.

But, can we be honest? That shit doesn't exist. I have yet to meet a Grayson and I'm blaming Cougar Town and other rom coms for making me think that my love life can be wrapped up and topped with a bow in less than two hours time.

I also want to look like this naked but let's be honest, that shit ain't happening.