Tall Order


I ran into him yesterday and was struck silent. My nerves were on edge and I could hardly breathe. He smiled at me and my resolve liquified. He leaned in and the words fell right out of my mouth.

J- My God you smell good.

This is why I need a filter. He looks confused and I’m trying to delicately back-pedal. There’s just no getting around it. I love an artificially fragranced man. No natural essential oils, either… No. I love me some after shave, die for even the most basic dollar store cologne, and heaven help us all if he’s ironed. I have vices, I admit them.

Sometimes it’s better to just admit to them and move on. I do my best to squash these natural inclinations, to no avail. You want what you want and there’s no getting around it.

My mama is a firm believer in list making, and this is no exception.

  1. I want a man who makes me laugh when I want to slit his throat. I realize this is a specialized skill, but if you can make me laugh when I’m furious, nothing bad will ever happen. I’m a happy person by nature and would much rather fuck than fight… so this is a skill that will make your life pretty damn spectacular as well.
  2. I want a man who can fix things with tools. One of the hottest things I’ve seen recently, is a man searching for a tiny replacement screw in the gazillions of drawers at the hardware store. He found it… and I could hardly speak. Men with man skills are my jam.
  3. I need him freshly shorn. I’m capable of handling a beard these days, but it needs to be more manicured hedge than broom. A million bonus points for silky soft man face.
  4. I need him artificially scented. No patchouli, no lavender and NO Old Spice. I’m not attracted to naturally scented anything, hippies OR men who smell like my dad. Beyond those guidelines, anything goes. I don’t have a favorite cologne, but any is better than none. Hell… soap has been known to blow my mind lately… so this is an inexpensive vice to exploit.
  5. I need him to love his mama. This is one of those old fashioned vices that I can’t seem to quit. I loathed my mother in law and my ex did too. It only took away from our life, and I wish I’d been older and wiser so that I could have tried harder to build a healthy relationship with her. The older you get, the more you realize how priceless those people really are in your life. If I’m going to commit to a man, I’m going to have to want to hang out with his mom.
  6. Faith isn’t important to me, but I have found that the Christian boys are just as dirty and dishonest as the heathen atheists. I don’t care what someone’s faith base is, as long as they don’t force it on me or mine. Jesus is like your penis. Keep it to yourself until I ask for it.
  7. I need for him to know his way around the kitchen. Men who cook are my achilles and I am powerless when it comes to a perfect medium rare steak. If he can tie on an apron and blow my mind on a dinner plate, I’m going to thank him in ways he’s only dared to fantasize about. You cook for me: I burn for you. It’s a win-win situation.
  8. Can he dance? He needs to. I don’t care if he looks like an elephant in roller skates, I just can’t be the only one bumping and grinding while I get the dinner dishes done. Miserable chores are made better by a little ass shakin’ and I want the guy who can’t help but dance with me if I’m gettin down.
  9. I’ve been celibate for 5 years. I need to not be anymore. Along those lines, I want He-Who-Can-Keep-Up. Don’t whine about needing sleep or having to work the next day… life is short and I’m insatiable. You’re welcome. If he can’t or won’t, I don’t want him.
  10. Last but not least… I need him to be a very good man. The one nobody can believe is single. That guy who opens doors, puts the toilet seat down and says please and thank you. Manners, integrity and a quiet masculine strength that doesn’t need to be loud or aggressive to be perfectly obvious.

I’m pretty sure you’ve realized the same thing I have after reading this.

I have a better chance of finding a unicorn growing out of the soil in my garden, and we’re still buried under 4′ of snow.

A new kitten or a fresh tattoo sounds a million times better and FAR more likely to be a perfect match, so if anyone has any suggestions for either, let me know!





Sweet Satisfaction

You just can’t plan for some of lifes greatest moments. Some of them just unfold in front of you like the gifts they are. 

Once upon a dark time, I worked in a local burger bar. They paid us $3.35 an hour and the manager was the worst person I’ve ever met in my life. She tormented all of us, customers and employees alike… and I ultimately got fired because she told my bosses about my blog, and denied unemployment because I called her a cunt to my sister and my sister told them. When asked, I admitted it. FYI: sometimes the truth does NOT set you free.

It cost me a sister and a job I loathed. The years worth of lost unemployment stung the most, and it motivated me to get a much better job with a reputable owner and fair labor practices. The same better job that gave me my best friend and led to the successful career I have now.

I most definitely have had the last laugh, but only because I’ve worked my ass off and refused to accept that shitty job as the life sentence it was . I refused to settle, and I refused to allow someone to abuse me every day and those boundaries are what saved me from doing more than the years of hard time I did in that miserable place under that hateful troll.

Now let me preface this by saying that I pride myself on being kind. I go out of my way to be nice, and I’ve raised wonderful children as well. In our family, it’s more important WHO you are, than WHAT you have. I’m all about the content of your character and what you intend to do with it. So it takes A LOT for me to abandon all that to be an asshole. 

Ohhhhhh, but I make an exception for some people. 

I live in a picturesque town full of douchebags and crazy bitches. There are a helluva a lot more normal women here than men, but we have more than our fair share of bad examples of both. I’m not inclined to date because I’m not attracted to bullshit. I’m also very selective when it comes to my friends. It’s the cream of the crop at this point, because I’ve weeded all the drama and dishonest shit, out. My friends are the gold standard. I can’t say the same about the men I’m attracted to, which is why I own a $300 vibrator and not a boyfriend.

I rarely go out, so Saturday was the exception to the rule and I was overjoyed to spend some uninterrupted hours laughing with Fancy & Lovely. I was sort of oblivious to anyone else in the room because I was there to catch up with my girlfriends, not survey the scene or find a midnight snack to help ease the frustration inspired by Incredicock. 

I looked up to see Miss Earthy walk up to our table, flanked by the antichrist herself, Miss Cunt Bag. 

Satan tormented me as my manager for years until she played her trump card and told them about my blog. She’d been reading since the day I was hired but knew they’d panic when they saw the traffic. She then chased my boyfriend and I down in a restaurant a little while later. I’ve had the misfortune of having mutual friends/ending up at the same party as her now and again. We leave. I have absolutely NO interest in her having anything to do with my life. This is one of those golden “Her or Me” situations.

So here it was, that moment… again. Only this time, I’m successful, two martinis deep and lacking a filter.

E- HIIIiiiii!!!!! Hey do you know my friend….

J- Mmhmmm. 

I looked away and when I looked back, she was gone. 

Maybe it was rude. Maybe I could have tried turning the other cheek to let bygones be bygones. Maybe this is something I should try to work on, to be a better & more forgiving person. 

Or maybe she had a big set of balls to walk up to my table and deserved a hearty GTFOH, but I’m a lady and know how to politely tell someone to fuck off. 

Knowing your audience is everything, as is fucking off when you know you’ve been shitty to someone and haven’t apologized. We all know when we’re not cool with someone, or when we’ve done something that warrants an apology in order to rectify the situation.

Those are the only two choices. Fucking off or apologizing. None of this walking up to my table like it’s a second chance at meeting. No thank you. If I didn’t enjoy the first time? You don’t get to fuck me a second.