Category: She’s crazy
In the line of work that I do there’s often a period of time that I’m without work. Sometimes it’s a short time, like a month or two, but sometimes much longer. During these periods of downtime I start thinking of all kinds of money making schemes. Because of course, God forbid, I get a “regular” job.
I was perusing the internet one day and came across and article written anonymously by a young lady who sells her used panties. Yup. Used panties. I thought to myself, “No fucking way”. She was a young college student who sold on a website set up especially for buyers and sellers of these items. In graphic detail she talked about how she made a couple of hundred a month simply putting her drawers in a Ziploc baggy and mailing them off to God knows where.
As I read about how she had request for panties worn after working out or with request for shit stains and period stains I started getting a “that’s so nasty” expression on my face. But as I continued reading about how she did it all anonymously and could make anywhere from $20-$30 bucks A PAIR my curiosity got the better of me and I looked up the website she referenced.
It wasn’t too surprising when I saw ads for college girls, or an ad showing just the underwear and stating, “Who wants to pay for me to wear these?” I started really wondering who in their right mind would use this site. Most of the ads didn’t have anyone’s faces, just butts and bodies. Although some did have their face I started noticing a pattern, they weren’t all young skinny things.
Imagine my shock when I started seeing young women, older women, skinny women, plus size women, tattooed women and professional women. It got me to thinking. Well shit, I wear underwear every day. Sometimes I even wear pantyhose! I’m not working, so maybe I could throw my shit in a Ziploc baggie and make a few bucks. Beats working for a living HAHAHA
So as you can guess I set up an ad. I crammed my fat, cellulite covered ass in a leopard print thong I had gotten for my birthday one year and posted a pic of my ass on this site. I normally don’t wear thongs; I think they are uncomfortable as hell. I had a friend once tell me I just had to get used to it. In my mind though I don’t want to get used to a wad of cloth being crammed up my butt crack. So over the years I had accumulated a drawer full of sexy shit you couldn’t pay me to wear. Or could you…
I posted my ad and did a sexy little write up about how I wore heels, stocking and thongs to work. Lies lies lies. I don’t wear that fucking shit. But you have to remember I’m thinking easy money right? Heck I even was telling my girlfriends about it one night and they were all like, “I WEAR UNDERWEAR EVERY DAY I COULD DO THAT!!!”
One day I put my little thong on and wore it all day. Honestly it was a little titillating wearing it knowing that some guy, or girl if they swing that way, were going to buy them. After taking them off at the end of the night I put them in a Ziploc baggie and put them in my drawer. Immediately I posted an ad for this pair and within 30 minutes I had at least 6 men write me asking me questions about what I had for sale and if I had more.
That’s when I started to get creeped out. I mean, sure, in their profile these looked like decent ordinary men. Young, my age, some even older. Good looking guys too! But I started wondering if their profile was fake, or if they would be able to trace me by the return post office box on the package. What would they do with my underwear????? What did my underwear even smell like??? Was it nasty??? I pulled the baggie out of my drawer and opened it a little bit so I could sniff. I didn’t think I smelled bad. It’s not like I go around smelling pussies, but it didn’t make me gag so I guessed it was fine.
After I put the baggie back in the drawer I went back to my computer and looked back at the messages. It was at that moment I realized I couldn’t do it. Yes it was anonymous and my face wasn’t on the ad. Of course I had thought of a new email and a payment site. What stopped me was though was the thought of some freak out there sniffing my underwear while he jerked off.
There more I thought about it the more I imagined that these panty sniffers could be anywhere! Our neighbors, our employers, our friends. I decided that I wasn’t meant for the fetish world after all. Of course I do still have my website access, butt pic and a drawer full of thongs so who knows. Guess I’ll have to see how long I’m unemployed this year HAHAHAHA
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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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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
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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
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Several years ago I took my kids to New Haven with my friend Angie and her kids. We were doing train rides with Santa. Well we were in the back of the caboose with our kids and there was another kid that had to sit in our area because the rest was filled. This boy was about 9-10 years old, not too little to sit by himself.
He’s sitting across from Angie and I notice he has a train on his jacket. And I say, “Oh look at his coat it has a train how cute.” Angie tells me it was for Purdue. I replied I sure as heck didn’t know that because I don’t watch sports. Suddenly this kid says “You’re crazy.” I tell him that’s not a nice thing to say. So he says it again “You’re crazy.” I ignore the little fucker.
Then Conrad, who was 4 at the time, stands up and points at me and says “Mommy you’re crazy.” I tell him it’s not nice to call his mommy crazy. So this little brat sitting across from me says it again “You’re crazy.” He’s not being quiet either; I think the whole train car heard him. So then my older son, being the smartass he is, starts called me crazy too. I have three kids all pointing their fingers at me chanting “You’re crazy! You’re crazy! You’re crazy!”
Angie is just laughing and laughing. I’m trying to diffuse the situation and make it a joke, “They’re young yet know me so well.” It’s not like I could say what I really wanted to. I wanted to grab the little brat sitting across from me and toss him off the train. I wanted to act like a child and tell him he was crazy and ugly and his mommy didn’t love him. Dang brat. but I kept my mouth shut and felt like I was in Salem at a witch hunt where all the villagers stand around the accused witch pointing and chanting “WITCH WITCH WITCH” until they strung her up or burned her at the stake. And to think my children were part of it. Hate kids.
Then I’ll be damned another kid called me crazy just a few months ago. I went to a friend’s house to hang out with her, her boyfriend and their kids. I’d never met his kid before so I hardly talked to him. I’m sitting there talking away, like usual, and this kid pipes up, “You’re crazy.” I laughed and asked if he just called me crazy. He again replied that I was crazy. So obviously I can’t go anywhere without a kid telling me like it is. Now I do realize I might be a little out there, and even a little crazy. But dammit, I don’t need reminded of it. And people wonder why I can’t stand kids.
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Not many people may know that the cat Chleo I have now is actually Chleo the 2nd. The first Chleo I had to get rid of because it started pissing in my room. On my floor, on my textbooks, wherever it felt like it. Why the hell it started I don’t know, but you know cats, once they start peeing in a place they’ll keep going back. Well the cat was my younger son’s cat and I felt so guilty about getting rid of it that a few months after I decide to get him a kitten. Not just one kitten but I got 2!!!! Well these kittens were a few months old, maybe 4 and they had been living outside. But I figured we could love these little balls of fur and my son would quit crying about Chleo.
So I bring the cats home and after a lot of hissing at my fat cat Abby, they started getting used to the place. Well I was getting nervous because the damn cats weren’t using the litter box. I didn’t see them going anywhere else, but it was obvious the litter box was hardly being used. One day I walk in my son’s closet and sure enough step in cat shit. I had to throw a bunch of toys away and clean it up. Of course I was cussing the entire time. Then I found another place in his bedroom the cats had shit. Did I get rid of them??? No of course not, I thought, ok let’s just give them a little time.
I shut them up in the bathroom where the litter box was. Did this for a few days and sure enough they started using the litter box. Yeah! Well one day I walk in the bathroom right after the smallest kitten and I must have startled it because it ran right back out. I walk into my son’s room and there’s the little fucker shitting on my son’s bed!!!!! I had to clean the bed, flip the mattress, spray, the whole 9 yards. But did I get rid of the cat? No of course not. I still felt bad about getting rid of my son’s other cat so I put it back in the bathroom till it started using the litter box again.
A couple days go by and I’m thinking things are fine. I’m sleeping in bed one night, all snuggled under the covers. I woke up kind of groggy in the middle of the night and thought “God it stinks.” I’m smelling my pillows, bedding, my hair, hell even my under arms but can’t figure out where the smell is from. I’m tired so go back to sleep.
In the morning I go to stretch my legs and my leg hits something kind of wet. Well I’m half blind, didn’t have my glasses on and it was still dark so I kind of look down on my bed. Get my face up real close and see there’s this little lump. It looks exactly like one of those fake plastic poop piles that you can buy at a novelty store. So stupid me, still half asleep, I poke it with my finger. THE CAT SHIT IN MY BED!!!!! Oh my god I about hit the roof. I slept with cat shit all night. My god how gross.
I figured it had to have been that little fucking kitten again because I had seen the bigger kitten using the litter box. So I grab the little kitten put it in a cage and planned to drop it off at the shelter on my way to work. Cleaned the bed and flipped the mattress. I figured at least my son has the bigger kitten right?
Well that night I’m sitting by my bed and the bigger kitten jumps on my bed and starts walking around. I don’t think anything of it because cats will sometimes circle before they lay down. All of a sudden IT PISSES ON MY BED. COME ON NOW!!!!! I grabbed the fucking kitten and threw him with all my might out the back door. He flew up in the air, real good hang time too. As soon as he hit the ground he ran. I’m telling you I wanted to strangle it. I figured I’d rather hear a kid cry then deal with cats pissing and shitting in my bed.
The next day I come home from work and there’s a neighbor girl holding the bigger kitten and her mom standing there waiting for me. My neighbor asks me “Are you missing a cat?” I respond, “Nope not my cat” She says, “it looks like the cat you used to have.” So I say, “Don’t know what to tell you, it’s not my cat.” I am so going to hell for lying to this little girl.
So there you have it. In a 5 month period I’ve had three cats pissing and shitting on my bed. Cats hate me. But I love the fuckers so much. I have three cats now. My fat cat Abby Tabby seems to like me just fine. And now I have Chleo and Dorian Gray. Of course, his ass is evil. Wouldn’t surprise me a bit if he shit in my bed one day. If he does though, I’ll just have to see how far he can fly.
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Went out with this rebound guy one night and we ended up at Vinnie’s where some of our friends were. I was drunk as a skunk, ya I know, not unusual Ha-ha. Well this guy and I were sitting at a table with a couple of friends. We were drinking, having a good time and an ex who had destroyed my heart came in. Between seeing him and the alcohol I drank I looked at my rebound guy and just hated the fact I was with him. He said something stupid, not even bad, but I just hauled off and slapped the guy I was with. For no reason! I’m not kidding, and I’m not one of those women who thinks it’s okay for a woman to hit a man. I slapped him harder than I have ever slapped anyone in my life. This dude was big too, 6’2” and out weighed me by almost a hundred pounds.
He sat there just looking at me, and then slowly said, “Why did you do that?” I’m stuttering, “Oh that didn’t hurt.” And he replied, “Yes it did.” So I say, “No it didn’t, see!” At which point I slapped myself so hard I about fell out of my chair. Yes folks, if you saw that drunken crazy bitch slapping the shit out of herself at Vinnie’s one night, well that was me. Kind of like Jim Carrey in the movie Liar Liar when he’s in the bathroom kicking his own ass. After I slapped myself silly I realized I was fucked up beyond fucked up. And if I didn’t leave soon I’d probably end up getting my ass kicked. Or kicking my own ass who the Hell knows.
I started walking home, in the winter, dead of night. Traipsing along in the cold and snow hoping I would make it the few miles home before I fell over into a ditch. I made it almost the whole way then a friend saw me and picked me up. And yes, to answer your question, we did continue dating. Of course had I been able to read the future I would have just slapped him twice that night and ended it right there. HAHAHA
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Okay, maybe it’s just me and I’m a prude. But can someone please explain to me the fascination guys have with trying to stick their dicks in my ass? Seriously, I’m not kidding. From my very first boyfriend it seems to be the goal of every guy I date. Now I know there are many men and women out there who love ass fucking. Hell when I sold sex toys I sold more than one butt plug and set of anal beads to couples. But I’m not one of them. Oh I know some of you are thinking, “Just try it you’ll love it”. Well guess what, I have, I didn’t, and I don’t. Actually it makes me kind of jealous when I hear a woman say she loves it. Hell she has more than one way to get off and poor little me is just left with the plain old normal way.
I remember this one gay friend telling me (God I love this quote), “Girl I have a clit in my ass like a chick has in her pussy and it feels sooooo good!” Now that shit REALLY makes me jealous. I was at this party one time and a bunch of us got on the subject of butt fucking. So I say to the guy I was dating, “Look if you want to stick your dick in my ass so bad then let me stick something up yours”. He decides to ask his guy friends if they’d let their women do that. It was so fucking funny to find out how many of these guys actually let women “milk their prostate”. There was this one dude 6’3” who said “It’s okay to have a chick stick her finger up your ass when she’s giving you a blowjob, feels kind of good”. It was hilarious.
Now when I was in my younger years I had a boyfriend who talked me into it. I bled, hurt like Hell, and I didn’t like it one bit. So I swore I’d never do it again. So then I date the next guy and he tries to talk me into it. He’s saying all the normal shit, “If you love me you’d try it. How do you know you don’t like it unless you try it? Blah blah blah”. Well shit I can’t tell the dude I HAVE tried it and can’t stand it. I was afraid I would look whorish. So I’d play the ass virgin and figured I’d do it, bleed and cry and he’d never want to do it again. That worked, until I dated the next guy. And then the next. After awhile I got damn tired playing the ass virgin just to get out of it because honestly it didn’t seem to work. And it’s not like there was a ton of guys you perverts, but you get the gist. As I aged I realized I needed to just stick up for myself and say no.
So then I dated this guy who was just fascinated with trying to fuck my ass. It was all he talked about. At first I’d played coy, “No, I don’t think so.” “It will hurt” ect. Of course he used all the old coercion techniques “Oh you’ll love it” “You’ll cum so hard” “I’ve been with lots of other girls that loved it” “How do you know you don’t like it unless you try it”. Finally after months and months of being badgered I told this freak, “Look I have tried it, I don’t like it.” “It hurts, I bleed and it makes me feel degraded.” “If those other chicks loved it then go fuck them in the ass.” “Look I don’t want a dick in my ass, a finger in my ass or a tongue in my ass. As a matter of fact pretend my ass doesn’t exist.” From this entire litany the only damn thing this guy walked away with was that I’d tried it before. So for the remainder of our relationship damn dude would beg, plead, even try to guilt me into it. If I didn’t allow him to fuck my ass I must not love him. Ya, guess not. Hell if we made a bet over something that’s what he always wanted his prize to be. Too damn bad it wasn’t going to happen. I’m a grown damn woman now. So after that relationship ended I decided to weed out those ass fuckers on the first damn date.
Yes I know, who in the hell would talk about ass fucking on the first date? Well anyone that knows me knows the answer to that. I’m not shitting you. This has now become first date material for me. Right along with tell me about your family, your job, likes and dislikes. Do you like butt fucking? Now don’t ask me how in the Hell I get a conversation around to this topic, it just does. So if a guy give me any indication that he sees my butt as a challenge, a prize to be won, or says something like “Oh you’ll do it again” with a wink and a nod, I can hear a big ass buzzer in my head and the dude’s out. Of course I don’t get a lot of second dates. But that’s okay. I don’t get any more dicks in my ass either and that works for me.
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Anyone who knows me knows I have food issues. I wish I was joking but I seriously think I need therapy. There’s been many times that I threw something away at home only to grab it from the top of the trash later. Such as a half-eaten candy bar, stale chips, etc. There was even one time that Conrad was eating an ice cream cone, the kind with the chocolate in the bottom. He hadn’t eaten all of it and said he was done and tossed it in the trash. Well I snatched that sucker up and bit the bottom off. Hell there was a night I was at dinner with some friends and not only did I finish my margarita, my friend’s margarita’s, but the one girl had brought someone I didn’t even know and I’ll be damned if I didn’t finish theirs also! Ok, that might be more of a drinking problem than a food problem.
Several years ago I worked for this company that would once in a while bring us in treats. Sometimes it would be lunch, maybe popcorn, all kinds of goodies. Well one day they gave us Cookie Cottage cookies. I love these cookies soooo much that I don’t even share them with my children. We were each given two cookies and I scarfed mine in a heartbeat. Later that day I went to the restroom, did my business and washed my hands. When I walked over to the paper towel dispenser I noticed right on top of the trash there was a cookie. Not just any cookie…a Cookie Cottage cookie! It still had the wax paper around it. So I looked around and there wasn’t anyone else in there with me. My mind kept telling me not to do it, but I couldn’t stop myself. I slowly reached into the trash, hating myself the whole time, and picked up the cookie.
Still looking around to make sure no one came in, I removed the wax paper, my mouth was already watering. Well just my luck the damn thing was a plain sugar cookie and it had a big bite taken out of it. So I tossed it back into the trash and turned around only to find myself looking right into the mirror. And that’s when the horror of what I had just done came rushing in. “My God, did I really just take a cookie from the trash at work? In the bathroom!?!?!?!” I said out loud. Humiliated I ran back to my desk hoping no one at work realized what I had almost done. Thankfully it wasn’t a chocolate chip cookie, because honestly, I would have eaten the damn thing. HAHAHAHAHAHA
Incoherent Ramblings of a Crazy Bitch 