Daily Archives: February 24, 2012

The solution to cheating… and the first of many internet dates to come…

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Castration!

I’m only half joking, and they’re lucky that impotence is a side effect of castration, otherwise it’d be common practice by now.

As I was picking the little monster Tucker Max from the vet this afternoon, he stopped me to talk to me about the procedure. I assured him I knew what we were in for, etc.

D- Don’t worry though- he’ll be more loyal, more affectionate and sweet without all the bad behaviors. He wont be running off to the neighbors yard, he’ll stay home.

It’s all I can do not to laugh.

D- He’ll be a much better companion after he’s neutered.

and I lose it finally… dissolving into a fit of giggles.

J- And why don’t we do this to men?

He blushes…

D- It renders them… uh… unable.

J- Oh. Yikes.

I looked down at little Tucker and he glared at me.

I drove him home as he looked everywhere but at me. He’s seriously pissed off at me…. and rightfully so.

It poses quite the option…. To castrate him, or not to castrate him….

You can have the perfect husband, who is loyal and loving and wonderful… and never have sex again…

Or you can have a ruthless cheater of a husband who blows your mind…

Maybe just take one off? lol… Lance Armstrong didn’t have any trouble knocking up his girlfriend with his one testicle.

Because we all want that middle of the line guy. He doesn’t have to be perfect, he just has to care about who he is- and be actively participating in being a valuable member of society. Freeloading couch-surfers went out with bead curtains, and not to give my secrets away… but a man can stun me speechless simply by tying his tie in front of me.

Lord. Have. Mercy. Whoa….

So I had a lunch date after work tonight… my first of a dozen internet dates lined up… for your entertainment (and my boredom) .

I had to rush the dog home from the vets office and fly to my date so I’m sure I still smell like a french fry… I contemplate being late and going back for perfume, but figure it’s the first of many strange dates I’ve got planned. I’m getting back to my roots… I’m hand picking the crazies, don’t worry about perfume.

Judge away… lol… it’s fun and I’m in no frame of mind to meet anyone new. This is like speed dating… only longer.

I’m meeting him for a sandwich, and a walk maybe <absolutely not, it’s cold and windy… but I’ll burn that bridge when we get there>.

I get there first <YES!> and sit facing the door, always assuming I’m not going to recognize them… and I always do, even if the pictures I’d been sent were clearly from years earlier. He walks in ten minutes later, and I’m immediately aware who he is. He smiles. Eeek. I’m a teeth girl. A sucker for a pretty smile- and he’s missing a few. Not in the front or anything… but ya know…

At any rate, he’s tall, thin & sporting a short curly sort of Amish/Quaker beard.

Rule #1 of mine… Thou shalt not have facial hair. The highlight of our trip together was watching him shave. Damn… There’s nothing sexier than watching a man with shaving cream on his hands, then his cheeks… sigh. Sparkly blue eyes rimmed in fluffy white shaving cream. It can only be better if he doesn’t stop with his face and shaves his whole head. I kissed him with his face covered with shaving cream, then felt my nose, chin & cheeks tingle after wiping it off. Some of the best memories life has to offer. There simply isn’t an ending bad enough to ruin such sweetness.

My date sits down at the table and smiles at me. Let’s call him Cody.Cody is clearly not 35. Cody is lucky if he’s 45.

C- You don’t look 35…

J- Neither do you.

C- I hear that a lot.

.. … ….. … .. …. …. Incidentally I have nothing to say to that and I’m not being that too nice girl anymore so I’m letting his words hang themselves.

C- Ok… ha ha haaahh hhhaa I’m 42.

J- Oh good… well I’m 27 and my dad would be really mad if I dated anybody 42, sorry.

We sat and ate in silence and then he laughed and said..

C- I’m really 35, he’d be ok with that, right?

J- I’m 35, and I’m really just not interested.

C- That’s cool. It’s nice to hear the truth instead of some sick kid or shit like that.

J- Try being honest. Don’t lie about your age. Don’t lie, period and she wont have to lie back to you.

C- If you don’t lie, nobody will go out with you.

J- If you lie, they’ll only go out with you once.

We’re both right in some ways…. and we’re both wrong in so many ways too.

I’ve dated liars way more than once.

lol…

Way more than the honest guys, if I’m going to be honest as well.

C- So you wanna go out again?

J- No, Cody… I don’t. No offense.

C- Friends?

J- Absolutely. Thanks for dinner-

And I’m out…

Different sort of date and we never even touched on his Christian Youth Ministry that travels the world to cram Jesus down the Native’s throats.

The whole reason I picked him and it was odd enough all by itself that we never even got to the point of unrolling the freak flags.

I’m putting my coat on when he walks out by the door and offers to walk me to my car. Instant bad feeling and I decline <I’ve learned to listen to that instinct, first & foremost.> He sees my tattoo on my foot and compliments me, then asks me to take my shoe off so he can see the whole thing. I slip my foot out of my shoe and he smiles at me.

C- Nice toes.

Creepy. See? Bad feelings don’t lie. He offers to drive me to my car and I decline, knowing he has to go one way away from where I am and I’ll be in and gone before he can follow me. Creepy, right? This is the feeling this guy inspires.

One more for the record books…

Internet dating is nothing short of earning your wings in heaven…

Honestly though? I think I’d rather pay for sex than suffer through all this nonsense.

Disarming Tucker Max

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My adorable little pain in the ass Yorkie, Tucker Max…. has been seriously out of control for the last month. Humping on anything with a heartbeat… and the occasional stuffed animal.

He’s downright embarrassing these days…. we don’t dare take him anywhere.

I got out of the shower Wednesday morning and he ran into the bathroom, licked my leg and made his move. I carried him by the scruff of his neck back to his kennel and made the fateful call.

The little pervert finally went too far. Tucker Max had an appointment to become a gentler, sweeter boy.

IE: No more balls for Tucker Max. Amen.

I dropped him off this morning and he yanked on the leash to try and pee on the door. Ugh. This little fucker of a dog is so due a bad day. I pass him over and she frowns at me and says

V- Ohhh… are you gonna cry?

J- No. In fact I only wish I had the day off so I could fully enjoy his absence.

They half smile at me, apparently the “right” thing to do is cry. Whatever, this little 6 pounder of mine is a canine porn star in the making. He’s out of control.

Our <male> cat, Catfish… waits until Tucker is in his kennel for the night to come in the house. Tucker does not differentiate between species or genders.

So I knew everyone would enjoy a peaceful Tucker Free day… and I got off work just in time to pick him up from the vet.

They were laughing when I walked in.

V- He sort of sung like a bird when he came out of his anesthesia, almost like he was saying “Damn you” lol…

That’s my dog, Tucker Max.

They went to get him and she held out his poor little shrunken business to the doctor, who laughed and said…

D- He was well equipped, my goodness. He had the balls of a Bulldog.

That’s my dog…. the poor little pervert. Poor little fella just had too much factory and not enough business.

I brought him home and he went to his kennel and wont come out. He hates me a little. I took a piece of bacon in to see if I could sweet talk him and he growled at me.

That’s a first…

Though I suppose I’d be a little pissed off too.

 

Shy…

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We were busier than usual today and in the midst of 6 tables sitting at a time, we have people sitting at the bar too. Phew.

Things are finally under control and a cute guy sits at the bar.

Job perk… some of them are more fun to wait on.

He smiles at me and rests his chin on his hand. I ask him if I can get him something to drink and he smiles sweetly at me and says.

G- Do you write a blog?

Instant heart failure. Potential d-fib as a result of my erratic heart rate. One of those dreaded sort of deep breath, wipe the shock off your face and smile comfortably, sort of moment.

J- What?

G- I don’t read it, one of my friends loves it, she thinks you’re a great writer.

It’s literally my worst nightmare moment because it’s so strange to me that anyone reads this whiny mess sometimes. The original deer in the headlights moment… and yet I’m so flattered and even more awkward, lol…

J- Thanks- it’s a little strange having someone recognize me for it, that’s all.

G- Take it as a compliment, she said it’s good.

I can’t help but think back to the first few years when my blog got a few hits a month…. and now I can count how many different countries readers come from. 17 today. Bizarre, right? I’m kind of a big deal in Jamaica and India…who knew? I’m enjoying a glass of wine after work and getting a Pinterest fix at the bar.

Two of my favorite women come in to have a beer together and invite me along to dinner. They’re like the big sisters I always wanted and needed, but didn’t have. The brains of the operation. Miss Wisdom and Miss Happiness. Miss Wisdom has saved me in the last few weeks when I didn’t know up from down. Miss Happiness just is the happiest person I’ve ever met. She hugs me every time I see her, and just the sight of her smiling face is enough to make you have a better day.

I’ve been saved by the women in my life in the last few weeks. Saved by the clear headed female wonders who can see the reality of the chaos surrounding me when I’m busy trying to figure out where the flood is coming from while standing with my hand on the faucet.

Can’t see the forest for trees? HA…. I’d be happy if the trees were the only thing I can’t see… I’d be happy with a glimpse of the blue sky.

BUT… there’s always hope because I’m blessed with amazing friends that giggle over the crazy chaos that follows me daily, and after getting home, putting the dogs in their kennels and pouring myself a much needed glass of wine, I sat down to listen to the days messages, read email, etc… and heard a chorus of my favorite ladies singing <and laughing> to me….

“Hey we heard you were a wild one…”

lol….

I have no idea where they got that idea…