Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Not so long ago, I was walking out of a weight clinic thanks to my every increasing butt girth. A guy, not too old, but black, of course (they love my ghetto booty) said "girl, you know you look good." Excuse me?? "Girl, you know you look gooood". Um, moron. I'm walking out of a weight clinic with drugs in my hand. Obviously, I don't know I look gooood and being told by you hasn't helped that any. Yes, I said that. Yes, I'm a bitch. No, I didn't care. Then about a week later I begin to wonder about this guy that keeps coming back by my office, which is not one you pass by. If you come to my office, it is for a purpose. He's all chatty and friendly. He's old. His oldest kid is 6 years younger than me. He tries to impress me with a story of some expensive shoes he bought. (This is definitely a new one... and one you might think would draw me in. Buy those expensive shoes for me, then maybe. But for yourself? Ummm, no.) He tells me I am "striking". I am getting a little uncomfortable now and say thanks, but not a whole lot more. He seems to get the picture and leaves. Leaves me feeling less striking and more aged.
I guess men just think, what's it hurt to try. Why does it hurt my ego more than theirs? Ok, who am I kidding? My ego is just fine. But still it's like the tongue thing. You know the tongue thing from Thelma & Louise that causes Louise to blow perverted tongue guy's big oil rig up. I would like to know since men learned to play a woman's harmonica (oral sex, ladies)has a man with his tongue wagging out of his mouth suggesting his harmonica playing abilities ever turned a woman on. Has any woman ever said to a man "hey you lick the air so well, you wanna give me a go?" I can't imagine one ever has. It is disgusting. Or how about this one. Your kissing and making out, then they take your hand and put it on their package (covered or not). Hello dumbass! If I had wanted my hand there, I'd have put it there. Do you think it makes me more excited? Hell, I knew you were hard by the way you kissed me, give me time and I will get there, I don't need you to show me what I am in for... in some cases what you are in for is disappointment. Which leads me to "sharpie lid".
Arrogant guys are the biggest turn-off to me. I knew one that was so very full of himself and walked around like he was hung like a freakin' mule. One night at a party, where a bit of drinking commenced, he decided it was a good time to give me a hug; a really close, tight hug. And there it was a little poke at my leg. The hug was so long I had a moment to think about what that could be. There was no reason, for him to have a sharpie marker and seemingly he didn't because I felt as if I was being poked with just the lid of the sharpie. Hard enough, that it didn't move, as a sharpie lid in a pocket would. Sure enough, I came to the conclusion, and yes, told all my friends that mister I am so wonderful, did in fact have a penis the size of a sharpie cap. All that size doesn't matter and it's not the size of the ocean it's the motion... Pure bullshit. A wise man would know the way to make up for this is not to walk around like a pompous ass. It is to fine tune your harmonica skills.
So now that I have shared a couple of men are idiot stories with you, it's your turn. I know you have them...
I am going to keep going though and keep trying to figure it out, but if anyone knows how to fix this or has any suggestions let me know! In the meantime that old TLC song about being "so damn unpretty" will be haunting me.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
I was told today that a blog cannot be once a week and I “need to get this shit together”. This is true and I apologize for starting and then leaving you hanging while I survived a crappy week.
In regards to my flippin’ uterus, I was good. No need to flip anything inside. Doc told me of another patient who was about 400 lbs. In some crazy me kind of way, I took this to say, “You win, your efforts in looking better than some women that come in here are appreciated”. How I got that from our discussion, I don’t know, but just let me have it, alright? We discussed my weight, after I prompted. He encouraged “Weight Watchers”. Screw that. Went to a weight clinic two days later and got a little help in a bottle with a kid proof cap. I did get hit on while there by a black garbage collector. That is a sure sign my ghetto booty is back along with all with a bunch of other junk I don’t want in my trunk.
I’m loving the gyno stories!! I see a blog in the future for us to discuss the lovely little nipple bumps that add to the destruction brought on by age and breastfeeding of our breasts. That for the record seems to turn no one off but us. Sick world we live in.
I promise to do better this week. What has been on my mind is not a humorous thing but a woman thing. But as the great Carrie Bradshaw says “it’s really hard to walk in a woman’s shoes so every now and then you need special ones; to make the walk a little more fun”. Shoes and girlfriends (even blog friends) that are real have made my walk, even when stepping in a shitload of trouble… a little more fun.