Incoherent Ramblings of a Crazy Bitch

It's ok to laugh, that shit's funny!

Month: February 2015

FISH LIPS ARE SEXY — February 26, 2015

FISH LIPS ARE SEXY

/Erica Dyer/1 Comment

I’m all about a bargain. So when I saw a Groupon for Botox and Juvederm filler I jumped on it. Of course I was a little leery; I’d never had filler before. But I know someone who gets filler in their lips all of the time and they have these cute, puffy, kiss me lips. I wanted it for the lines in my forehead because they really bother me. I had Botox once before so I wasn’t worried about that, filler I wasn’t sure but why not try it. The effects of Botox last for 4-5 months, filler for about 9 so it’s not like its forever. The Groupon for $475 was a little pricy, but dammit I’m worth it!

When I got to the doctor’s office I noticed it wasn’t in the greatest part of town. But then again I just purchased Groupon Botox so who am I to judge? I go inside, sign in and find a seat to fill out a HIPPA form (and that was basically it). As I’m sitting there looking around I’m starting to notice how dirty the place is. Actually not just dirty, downright filthy. There was a ton of salt on the carpet, of course it’s winter so that’s normal. But there were bits of what I can only describe as trash. There was dust everywhere and also an old, nonfunctioning waterfall thing that was almost as tall as me. Dry water streaks were all down the front of the glass and the base the waterfall used to run into. But did I leave? Hell no, Groupon doesn’t refund without a good reason.

An older gentleman was called back at the same time I was. I’m looking at this guy wondering what the Hell he was there for. I mean, I’m getting Botox and filler but this dude was old. What could he want? The nurse takes me to a room and tells me to wait for the doctor. As I’m looking around this little dinghy exam room I hear a baby cry. A baby???? At that point I started wondered what the fuck kind of doctor this was. I mean old men and babies???? I’ve heard scary stories of people going for plastic surgery and getting fucked up by a non-professional.

I looked up the doctors website on my phone (yes I know, a little late for that) and realized this doc was a damn family medicine doctor. Guess she just decided to throw a little Botox in people’s faces to make some scratch. As I was reading the info I started wondering if I should just say fuck it to the $$$ and get out of there. But at that moment the doctor walked in. Even though I’m panicking inside I decided it would be rude to leave. Well, that and I’m cheap so the thought of being out the money is really what made me stay.

The doctor asks where I want the Botox and I explain that the lines in between my eyebrows really bothered me. I wanted the Botox and the filler there. She looks at my face and goes and gets the stuff. Upon her return she asks me what meds I was on and if I was healthy. I guess when you get Botox there you don’t have to fill out a healthy history form, a med sheet, or Hell even get your blood pressure checked cuz I can sure as Hell tell you none of that happened to me.

She sticks me with the needle for the Botox, basically right between the eyes. Now I can tell you that is not where or how the board certified plastic surgeon did my Botox in the past. But by now I was past the point of no return. After the Botox she looks at me and tells me she really didn’t think I needed the filler between my eyebrows and that she could save it for later if I wanted to come back. Oh Hell no, I wasn’t coming back. But do you think I said ok and walked away? Fuck no, I started pointing out everywhere else she could stick that damn needle.

I got that shit in my lips, by my nose, in my fucking cheeks, and my jawline. Every time she put this needle in she stuck that damn thing about half way in, filled my face with shit then tried to smooth it out with her hand. My eyes were watering like crazy. It looked like I was bawling but I wasn’t. Now don’t get me wrong, the shit hurt, but I think my face just didn’t know what was going on.

Once she was done she handed me a mirror but all I could see through my watery eyes was a big red blotchy face with puncture marks and fish lips. So I told her looks great and thanks. Because of course I have to be polite. So she says see in you 4 months for more Botox and she leaves. It wasn’t till I was sitting in my van I thought to myself, “Shouldn’t I have gotten a receipt or something showing what she did and used? And that was kind of weird they didn’t have me fill out hardly any paperwork.” But by this point my face was starting to throb so I headed back to my hotel. That’s when I really got a good look at my fucking face.

I called the girl I know who gets filler and told her my lips were all bumpy and not cute like hers. She told me I had to massage my lips and they would smooth out. What the fuck???? Now I want you to try massaging your damn lips and imagining lumps of shit in there that you are trying to smooth out. On top of that the lower part of my face was so sore I could hardly move it. Whenever I tried to drink I dribble because I couldn’t move my lips. I felt like someone punched me a couple of time in the mouth. My left cheek has a big glob of filler in it that I can’t get smoothed out. If you look at me straight on it doesn’t look too bad but at an angle you wonder if my face is swollen or I’m just sick.

As I was walking through the hospital today I noticed more people saying hi to me than ever before. I think they were just distracted by my face and felt like they had to say hi when I caught them looking. I’ve also noticed that since my lips don’t move like they used to, actually hardly at all, I have to concentrate on forming my words so I don’t sound like gibberish. Oh and I drool a bit at the corners of my mouth. But I’m sure all of these things will get better in time. At least that’s what the internet tells me and we all know the internet tells the truth.

So now here I sit 24 hours later. I am still sore and puffy. My lips are cockeyed, my one eye seems to sag and twitch more than normal. I still have the lines between my eyes. And oh ya, my nose is numb. See Botox can travel throughout your body when not injected properly. I guess the moral of the story is that I should stay away from Groupon Botox. It’s too bad I had already bought two of them. The other one is a different doctor though so they have to be better right? RIGHT? Come on help me here cuz you know very well I won’t let that shit go to waste.

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gross lobby
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I Don’t Think Your Mother Likes Me — February 20, 2015

I Don’t Think Your Mother Likes Me

/Erica Dyer/Leave a comment

Considering I’m 41, have never been married and haven’t had a relationship last over 3 years it’s safe to say I’ve met a lot of different moms. And it doesn’t matter what age I am, they never seem to like me. Dads love me and think I’m funny as Hell and often give their son’s the old nudge, “good going son”. But mothers never do. The reason might be that I curse like a sailor, or often dress in tight clothes. Might even be the fact I’ve had kids out of wedlock. Who the fuck knows. I’m usually prim and proper when I meet the moms. But once in a while I don’t even have to wonder why the mom doesn’t like me. Hell, sometimes it’s like a slap in the face and I actually agree with them.

A few years back I was dating a guy I was really into. I hadn’t met any of his family yet but he was having a bonfire at his parent’s house so I was going to get my chance. Several of us were out in the woods partying around the fire. I had finally drunk just enough liquid courage that a few of us girls rode the golf cart up front to the house where his parents were.

It was a chilly fall night so his mom and a few others were in the garage drinking, talking, and just having fun. Us girls went into the garage and left the big garage door open about 2 ½ feet. Not quite closed all of the way. With so many of us in the garage it was getting hot and if I remember correctly a few people were smoking.

Anyway, I find this guy’s mom and introduce myself. I was pretty proud that I had the courage to do it. Of course remember what I said earlier about liquid courage? Liquid courage my ass. I was fucked up. I start rambling on and on to this poor woman about how the mothers of the guys I date never like me. They think I’m a whore, dress like a slut, I cuss, on and on I went. She kept trying to interrupt me and tell me that she didn’t think I was that bad. But it was as if I had made it my mission to convince her otherwise, so I kept talking.

This woman was looking at me like I was nuts. And you know how it is once you know you fucked up and you try to back pedal but only seem to make things worse? Yup. That was me. My friends were even telling me to shut up. That is when they weren’t openly laughing at me. I kept glancing over at the garage door wishing like Hell it was open so I could just run out. Door, mom, door, mom. I could feel the panic start to rise.

As I was rambling I turned and lost my balance. So to make matters worse I was now falling down drunk in front of this woman I had just met. At this point I lost all dignity and realized there was no going back. Retreat was my only answer. I was already on the ground, had already humiliated myself and knew I had fucked up big time with his mom. I thought “fuck it”, and crawled across the garage floor and underneath the partially opened garage door. Now had I been sober I would have realized there was an actual door right next to the partially open garage door. But by this point I wasn’t thinking straight. So yes, this woman had to watch as I crawled along her garage floor and shimmied underneath like some damn rat.

I started walking back to the bonfire and my friends pulled up behind me in the golf cart. Of course they were laughing their asses off asking me what the fuck I was thinking. But that’s the thing! I wasn’t thinking! If either one of my sons had a girlfriend who did some shit like that I’d probably kick her ass as she was crawling across the floor and tell the whore not to come back.

A short golf cart ride and we were back at the bonfire. By this time I was trying to play it cool, like I didn’t do anything that bad. I went up to the guy I was dating and told him I got the courage to go up to the house and meet his mom. He asked me how it went and I just responded, “I don’t think she liked me.” He assured me that she was just hard to get to know and she probably liked me just fine. That fucker had no clue. Until the next day of course. I’m sure his mother gave him an earful then. Needless to say the relationship didn’t last very long. Now I try to avoid mothers like the plague. Of course they probably think I’m a snob and that’s just another reason not to like me. But it does keep me from crawling around on garage floors. Well, at least when I’m meeting someone’s mom. HAHA

Shove That Rose Up Your Ass — February 15, 2015

Shove That Rose Up Your Ass

/Erica Dyer/Leave a comment

Ahhh Valentine’s Day. Love is in the air, roses delivered, chocolates in the belly and rejection in my face. Wait, what? As usual, Valentine’s Day is another holiday (ok, pseudo holiday) that I don’t have any good memories of.  Actually that’s not exactly true. When I spend VD day with my girlfriends or my cats, it’s usually pretty awesome. When I spend it with men? Not so much.

There’s one Valentine’s Day in particular that I still can’t quite wrap my head around. The man I was dating at the time (I am using the term “man” loosely here) and I had been together for almost a year. This was to be our first Valentine’s Day together. Without my knowledge he had contacted my manager and made arrangements for me to have the holiday free. When I found out what he had done I asked him what our plans were and all he would tell me was to pack a bag and to make sure I had something sexy.

I had no idea what he had planned so was pretty excited at what was to come. He picked me up and before we headed to Fort Wayne he handed me a dozen roses, chocolates and kissed me passionately. After a lovely dinner he drove to a nice hotel and told me to grab my bag. I couldn’t believe how lucky I was to have a man that was so thoughtful and caring. Little did I know there was more.

We headed to our room and what I walked into was something out of the movies. There were rose petals all over the bed, a bottle of champagne chilling and this man that I loved looking at me as if he wanted to tear my clothes off. He told me to go put my something sexy on and he would be waiting for me.

In the bathroom I put on this silky purple teddy I had bought from Victoria’s Secret. It had spaghetti straps and these little pearl buttons down the front. Back in my 20’s I wasn’t very confident about my body, so the teddy wasn’t skin tight but still very sexy. I spritz on a little perfume and walked into the bedroom.

My man was lying naked on the bed looking toward the TV. I walked over to the TV and I stood there in my little teddy and a come hither look on my face. This bastard then says, “Can you get out of the way, I’m watching Home Alone.” What the fuck!!!!!!!!

I was in shock but moved. He explained to me that he just got into the movie so give him a minute to finish it. So I’m lying there beside him on the bed, in my teddy, trying to hide my humiliation but just waiting for his movie to end. Little did I fucking know that this was a Home Alone marathon. Do you know how many Home Alone movies there were at that time? I do, three. Three fucking Home Alone movies and he ignored me through each one. By the time the third one came on I went into the bathroom, practically ripped my teddy off and after shedding a few tears I exited. I didn’t say a word to this mother fucker, just crawled under the covers, turned my back to him and as I tried to control my sobbing, closed my eyes to try and sleep.

After his movie was done he tried to snuggle up behind me and asked, “Why did you take that sexy lingerie off?” I told him to go fuck himself, that evidently my fat ass disgusting body couldn’t compete with the TV and that I would never ever wear lingerie again.  He responded, “Whatever” and he rolled over and fell asleep.

On the ride home the next day I asked him why he’d rather watch TV than to touch me, especially after making plans and spending so much money. This fucking asshole spent the rest of the way home telling me how much of a turnoff I was in that lingerie. “You’re too pale for that dark purple.” “When you said you went to Victoria’s Secret I expected you to wear something sexier.” “Those buttons down the front were stupid.” “I don’t know. When I saw you in it I just wasn’t turned on.” Talk about wishing I had kept my mouth shut. As he went on and on I just sat there looking out the window of the car.

You would think something that happened over 20 years ago wouldn’t affect me so much, but honestly it still does. I have never worn lingerie again. I mean Hell that was 50 pounds lighter and 2 kids ago; if my body was so fucking disgusting then imagine me trying to squeeze my sausage ass in a teddy now. So now, I’m either naked or in sweats. That’s my comfort level. I’ve also found I have a deep hatred for Macaulay Culkin. If I see him in a movie or his picture on the internet I have a sudden urge to go throw a robe on. Oh who am I kidding, I don’t need an excuse to wear a robe HAHA

If You Give A Girl A… — February 3, 2015

If You Give A Girl A…

/Erica Dyer/Leave a comment

Eddie Murphy, in the stand-up show Raw, had it right when he said, “If you give starving man a cracker it’s the best fucking cracker he’s ever had” and it was the same with sex. That statement is so true. I’m telling you after a few years of no sex this bitch gets starving. A while ago my friends introduce me to this guy who is just the exact opposite of any other guy I’ve ever dated. Dude was short, balding, a little hunchbacked, the kind of guy you probably wouldn’t look twice at. But I hadn’t dated in a while so I figure why not go out.

We got along on our double date and had a lot of fun. I had met him a few times before in a group setting so I thought fuck it, and invited him back to my place. I’m telling you I will never look at a short dude the same way again. It was awesome sex. But a relationship in heaven it was not meant to be. After only a month or two it ended. My stupid ass mooned over this guy for far longer than he was worth. But we do that kind of shit don’t we? Or it could just be me.

A couple of months after we broke up I’m out at the bar, drunk, horny and got the bright idea I was going to have someone take me to this guy’s house out in the country. I can remember my friend saying “Are you sure you want me to take you out there?” I say, “Oh ya, it’ll be fine. He leaves his door unlocked so I know I can get in.”

Now I hadn’t even talked to this guy in two months but somehow in my drunken state I just knew he would be ecstatic that I would show up and want sex. So I had my friend drop me off and I go walking into this guy’s house. It wasn’t until I reached his bedroom I thought “OH FUCK! What if he has someone in bed with him?” Did that stop me? Hell no, my ass was drunk and horny.

Walked into his bedroom and luckily he didn’t have anyone already in bed with him. But soon he would, heehee. I crawl in bed with this guy. He’s lying on his side, away from me. Right after I lay down, he reached back, touched me, like he was seeing who the hell was in bed with him and then puts his hand back in front of him. I was confused at first. I expected him to grab me and ravish me. Then it hit me, “Damn I think he’s pissed!” I just broke into this dude’s house. Maybe not “broke” in, but I’m quite sure some criminal action was there. I thought I was going to get some great make up sex and my drunken ass might end up going to jail!

I mumble maybe I had better sleep on the couch and get out of bed. I stumble to the living room and collapse on his floor. Yup, lost the ability to walk so I was laying spread eagle on this man’s living room floor.  I could see the couch; I just couldn’t force my body to get there. Then I hear him get out of bed. “Oh yea,” I’m thinking, “Here he’s coming to get me, I know he wants me.” He walks into the living room, stands still for a moment, and then proceeds to throw a blanket over me. He then goes back to bed.  “My God “, I’m thinking, “Dude just came in and threw a blanket on me. Fuck!” I lay there for a few minutes and think about what I should do. “Fuck it. I’ve already made an ass of myself and I’m horny. I’m gonna go get me some.”

Now remember I had lost the ability to walk and I had that damn blanket covering my head.  I was too fucking drunk to even think about pulling it off me. Honestly, the thought didn’t even occur to me. So off I go crawling to this man’s bedroom. I’m crawling across the floor with a blanket completely over my head, finding my way more by sense of direction than vision. BAM! I run right into his dresser. Oh ya, he knows I’m coming.

I turn toward his bed and I get to a standing position by grasping onto the bedding and slowly pulling myself up. I figure I know what to do. What guy can resist a half naked woman? So I take off my pants, I take off my bra, and I crawl in bed behind this guy. The man doesn’t touch me. I’m too drunk to feel rejected so my ass decides to pass out. About two hours later this guy shakes me awake and says he’s going to take me home because he has things to do the next day. As he’s driving I couldn’t even lift my head to look at him. Longest, most silent ride ever. I still remember the song playing on the radio, Apple Bottom Jeans.

As we pulled up to my place I mumbled thanks and jumped out of his truck. He was pulling away before I even get a chance to shut the door. I’m surprised he even stopped. Hell he could have just slowed down and told me to jump. I was drunk enough I would have probably done it. That was one of the most humiliating nights of my life. I didn’t get my drunken ass laid, but at least I didn’t get arrested. And I bet you he’s locking his doors now! HAHAHAHAHAHA

A Shit Storm — February 1, 2015

A Shit Storm

/Erica Dyer/Leave a comment

A few years ago I bought the house my children and I currently live in.  It’s a really nice two story home right on a corner lot. Although it has a full basement, it’s really not one I could finish without pouring a new foundation. The house is over a hundred years old and at least one basement wall looks like the original stone. Whenever it rained it wasn’t unusual to see trickles of water seeping in. But it was still a beautiful home, so I bought it.

Shortly after moving in we had a huge rainstorm. The river was flooding, roads were flooded over, and it seemed even the drains outside were getting plugged. Since I already knew the one wall leaked I thought I had better check to see if water was pooling in the basement.

When I opened the basement door I was in shock. It was like a fucking lake in my basement. Not even kidding. The water was at least a foot and a half high and the rain still hadn’t stopped. I didn’t know what the fuck to do. It was the weekend, I’m a single mother and I didn’t want to call a plumber out on a Sunday till I knew exactly what was going on. So I called one of my friends and she said she’d see if her dad could come over.

Her dad showed up with wading boots and went down in the basement to take a look. My older son, who was about 14 at the time, decided he wanted to go with him.  Zach took his shoes and socks off, rolled up his pants to about his knees and followed. My younger son and I sat on the basement steps about half way down so we could see what was going on. After a few minutes her dad said it looked like the drain was backing up.

All of a sudden Conrad shouts, “IT’S POOP! IT’S POOP! LOOK IT’S POOP!” We all look down into the water and sure enough, there was turds floating around. Not just shit either. Toilet paper, tampons, shit, any fucking thing you can imagine that people flush down the toilet.

Now her dad was wearing boots but my son was barefoot so I shout, “ZACH! GET OUT OF THE WATER THAT’S RAW SEWAGE!” My fucking son looks down at the water and shit surrounding his legs, shrugs his shoulders and goes, “Eh”.  If I would have had the ability to walk on water I would have snatched that fucking kid up. As it was he was out of my reach and didn’t seem the least bit disturbed by the fact that my basement was now holding the shit for my fucking block.

My friend’s dad told me I would have to call a plumber and that the rain and flooding had caused the sewage line to back up into my basement.  He also told me not to use any water, no flushing toilet, showers, etc., since everything going down my pipes was just ending up in my basement. I thanked him and he left.

Then I turned to my son and told him to get his ass in the bathroom and I turned on the water almost to scalding and made him scrub his feet till they were raw. The whole time he’s saying, “But he said not to run any water!?” My response, “Fuck that! You were standing in raw sewage. Zach that’s people shit! We don’t even know whose shit! You’ll be lucky if you don’t get some damn disease!!!!!” After scrubbing his feet I also made him clip his toe nails as short as he could get. The kid is lucky I didn’t also make him pour bleach on his feet. But I thought that might be a little too “mommy dearest” of me.

The next day the rain had stopped and the water outside had starting to recede. A plumber came and took care of my basement. Then a friend came and scrubbed the whole basement floor with bleach. I have never had flooding like that since them. But I tell you what; every time there’s a heavy rain I get a knot in the pit of my stomach. If the boys aren’t home I’ll wait until they get there and make one of them go check the basement.  I don’t think I could handle seeing that lake of shit again.