The unthinkable is upon us. I blame my darling Little Red, who surprised me with a visit last night.

LR- You should Tinder.

J- Oh god no.

LR- Come on! It’ll be a great distraction and you stand a better chance of meeting someone actually worthy of your time. Maybe even <gasp> someone you actually like.

J- The thought of writing a personal ad makes me want to bury myself alive.

LR- And you say I’m dramatic. Think about it. I think it’s safe to say if he hasn’t walked down the driveway in the past 5 years, that you’re going to have to go out in the world a little to meet him.

J- Meet who?

LR- Your +1. Make a list of what you love and hate. Be honest and I’m sure you’re gonna go like hotcakes.

My daughter, the saleswoman/prophet.

So I caved… and the thought of actually going on a date makes me nauseous, but I do know that it makes for hilarious writing, and I really am enjoying that again. So…. fuck it. Here goes nothing.

  • He must know how to tie a tie. I don’t care if he never wears one to work. He will be wearing one behind closed doors, with me. I like a gentleman who knows his knots.
  • He must be honest. I am not interested in playing on a team that I didn’t sign up to play for.
  • Huge points for smelling good. Cologne hangs in my mind almost as much as the things you say. If you hate it or think patchouli oil counts? The fuck out of here with that.
  • He must love his family & be willing to tolerate mine. That means family dinners, holidays and the whole 9. Antisocial partners ruin everyone’s good time.
  • He must be naughty. I don’t want to worry about horrifying him. I was seconds from an orgasm once, whispered “choke me” to my boyfriend and he leaped out of bed,  wide-eyed & wanting to discuss why I would ever want such a thing. Ugh. I didn’t say “to death”….
  • He must know how to kiss and like it. Same goes for biting. Bonus points for combining the two.
  • He must have control over his own life. No crazy babymamas or feral children. Been there, done that… never putting a toe in that crazy lake again.

So I’m being lazy and weird about it, not wanting to put any energy into writing a profile… digging deep into my blog for my original dating profile. 🙂

Wa LA!

I’m looking for the right man. Is that you? Do you do what you say you’re going to do?

Does your mom tell her friends what a great son you are? Do your kids complain that you’re too strict?

Do women tell you how good you smell and how nice it is to see a well dressed man?

Are you funny in the right moments, and sexy in the others? Are you a good ex-husband? Open to the idea of getting remarried to an amazing woman?

If you answered yes to most of the above….

Email me 🙂

I have a happy life of my own, and I’d like you to have one too. I mean what I say & I never break a promise… you should value your integrity just as much. I have two three great kids that mean the world to me and my friends & family know me to be a loving & consistent mother. I would be delighted to meet someone who takes pride in his role as a father. I’m an incorrigible flirt.

I’m pretty funny… and will love it if you can make me laugh too. I always smell good- and will tell you every time how much I love your cologne. I LOVE good old fashioned manners.  I’m a sucker for nice arms & a nice smile… and If you can dance & kiss too- I may spontaneously propose  proposition you at some point 🙂

I pride myself on raising nice people- no brats here. I share custody with my ex-husband. I have my youngest full time, If you have a crazy ex- I hope you’re nice enough to not email me. I’m really not interested.

My favorite man is… masculine, confident, and funny…sexy, and aggressive (in the right moments). Someone comfortable with me being an independent woman- while understanding too that I get tired of being the boss in my own life and relish the idea of a man who’s in control. If you are meek, mild or timid… we’re not a match. I can’t stand facial hair- no offense if you treasure your mustache/beard/goatee- it’s just not at all for me.

***I hate to have to add this… but… If you don’t have a picture, I’m going to assume you are either:
A. Married 
B. Unattractive
C. Chicken
None of which interest me. If you’re taking the time to browse- have the courage to do so with your face. 🙂 Also- if you’re over the age of 60- Please. Don’t email me.

Heeeeyyyyyy…. look at that! Minimal changes and I’m set! Now I just have to actually pull the trigger.

Sexually Transmitted Stupidity

My favorite Songbird called to cheer me up, and after two words she said:

S- Wait. You have to listen to this, then call me back.

*Sometimes the dude is thinking you want more and you’re thinking, I don’t want to know what your favorite movie is, I don’t care if you like dogs. I genuinely don’t care. I just want to collect you like a Pokemon. 

* He told me, we can’t give A1 dick to everyone. Not everyone can handle it. Listen… these dudes are on to us. They only hand out the A1 if they feel like you are removed enough that that they don’t have to handle your emotions.

*If this is someone that’s in your life, let them know how good that dick is. If they are just kind of like a fuckbuddy- y’all know what’s up. You don’t have to be verbose about the praise. A lot of times, you can’t even front. It doesn’t matter what you say, you said enough when it was all up in them guts. 

*What is the nutritional value of this penis. Twinkie dick is gonna taste great, but it’s not fulfilling. Then you have kale dick.  It doesn’t taste fantastic, but the nutrient level is incredible.  Then there’s the holy grail. the sweet potato dick, full of antioxidants, but also sweet and savory at the same damn time. Meaning you’re touching all the bases, which means its probably touching all your bases. 

*Do you know how dope it is to laugh with someone that’s gonna fuck the shit out of you? That right there is a gem of a time. 

Enjoy ♥

Unicorns, in a sea of cats.


Elbow deep in green beans with a depressing shortage of tomatoes, I was kicking myself for being smart enough to cockblock myself out of waking up in Las Vegas this weekend. Weepy even. I hate to admit it, but as soon as I saw her name on my phone,  those tears I’d been successful at suppressing, fell.

J- Oh my god. I love when you know I need you.

U- I love you, what’s wrong????

There’s just something about your little sister calling when you are feeling vulnerable. She doesn’t even know who or what I’m upset about. She’s just there.

U- You have a big heart, you love hard. Why are you so hard on my sister??? Big mistakes make the best lessons.  I’m so grateful that my shoes are so comfortable. I really like me. You should love you. I do.

That’s my Unicorn sister. The one who puts up with some insane bullshit from a crazy babymama, because she knows its an opportunity for personal growth and that’s just who we are.

J- It doesn’t cost you anything to be kind. Extend yourself. Don’t give her room to hate you and she can’t. That’s who we are. Don’t let a jealous woman change that about yourself.

U- You’re right. She’s going to make me a better person.

J- Bake her some cookies. Ask her to hang out. She can’t hate you if she gets to know you.

U- We’re not like other girls.

J- No. We’re not.

U- I’m glad.

J- We’re just a bunch of unicorns in a sea of cats.

The Unicorn got married too young, to a man most unworthy. I tolerated him, but I was thrilled to see him go. Living a Mormon lifestyle leaves a women wholeheartedly unprepared to be a dating, single mother, unless you stay within the confines of Utah. My Mormon roots are my biggest hurdle. Hers too. She does not live in Utah, so she brings Utah to everyone who hasn’t had the pleasure of growing up in the cradle of neighborly love.

We give, and give, and give more… even to the jealous bitches who hate us and especially to the men whom we adore.

We’re unicorns. That’s what unicorns do.

The Ex Factor


As always, what I lack in the men in my life, I more than make up for in the friends I have. To be honest, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I was married for 7 years and did another 7 years of hard time with the dirty boat stealing loser. I’ve done my time in captivity and have fought hard to attain this blissful level of independence.

Also, I’m allergic to engagement rings.

I don’t mind cleaning up after the people I created, but that’s where I draw the line. I don’t want men’s clothes hanging in my closet and I have no time for finding the toilet seat up.

I have a plumber, an electrician and a man who removes my snow before the sun rises.

I only need a man for one thing.

So when I found myself with a friend willing to let me borrow his body for a few hours, I was as delighted as you can imagine. A little too wordy though. I didn’t think about the few friends I have that read my blog when I word vomited about finally shaking off the 5 years of celibacy.

With a friend’s ex. Something I just don’t do.

It turns out, you bitches have been holding out on me.


Five of you have contacted me, thus far. I heard from a friend I’ve been missing for years.

C- Hey a girl can hope.

J- Is that a green light?

C- That’s an invitation. You should know a few things first, though.

I have a veritable ex-wife welcoming committee. Friends winking at me at the grocery store, endorsing the men they discarded.


Ok so some of the endorsements haven’t been so glowing. In my defense this is the first time I have knowingly gone down this road and I am awfully flattered that you’re all so helpful in rubber stamping my hesitation away.

I told you all I was posting your messages and outing you for the holdouts you are. When a voicemail comes chiming in…

T- Gurrrrrrl, if Matt can fuck like that and didn’t, I’m gonna divorce him a second time. Bite him for me. No hard feelings. Call me, love you- bye!

All this time I’ve been knitting and canning myself into submission and all I needed to do was round up my ex-wife posse.


I’ve been enduring a grueling work out regimen for the past month. It’s working, but I’m in a constant state of ache. My playlist is burned into my brain for the parts of my body that suffer differently in each song. I didn’t consider that when I invited my friend over the other night. I absentmindedly plugged my phone in and hit play. Dancing and chopping veggies, I hear my favorite song come on and cringe simultaneously. It plays at the heart of my run, when I’m absolutely sure I’m going to die. Heart pounding, sweat running down my spine and legs on fire…

In the midst of running out of condoms,  my song came on and I can’t lie… I really thought about dancing. Stupid on screaming orgasms and sexual liberation, I feel completely justified to do a little happy dance. I am not one to be outdone and when I am satisfied I will go above and beyond to return every pleasure.

So when I saw him laying there, all satisfying and shit; I was inspired. I picked up the candle that was burning on my dresser and carried it to the side of my bed, asking him to come closer.

I slid a pillow to the floor and under my knees as his legs slid over the edge, wrapped my fingers gently around his balls and enjoyed my favorite song in a whole new way. Watching his eyes roll back in his head while he tries to watch me appreciate my favorite inches of him with my very grateful mouth.

This is why I curled my eyelashes.

I reached for his hand and tucked his fingers into my hair, focusing on moaning around instead of choking on, my favorite new plaything. Feeling him fill my throat and whisper as he closes his eyes…

K- fuuuuuuuuck.

Watching him watch me. It’s hot.

and let me just tell you about my run this morning! Midway through Ariana telling me to keep on breathing, I realize what’s next and bite my lip at the thought. That soul stomping 4 minutes that used to threaten to break me, is now an audio guide to some spicy memories.

I’m intoxicated on inspiration and enjoying every bit of being able to write again, so if you are easy shocked or offended, you definitely want to unsubscribe now. I’m relishing the fact that I can ask him for anything without shocking him and vice versa. I intend to do what I can to blow his mind and my own in the process.

Pop some corn, sip some tea, or better yet?