Category Archives: Blogging

Occupied

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“Don’t let someone occupy space in your heart or in your head who never deserved a second glance”- ♥

Bottom line? I knew better.

More than that? I was warned.

Worse than anything? He bought the domain name vaginahoarder.com lying next to me with the intention to sell numbered t-shirts and coffee mugs.

That should have been the last time I wasted my pretty green eyes on him…. but it wasn’t.

Call me an idiot, a glutton for punishment or tie it up neatly with a cute little humiliating bow.

It was amazing every time I was standing right in front of him. He’s thoughtful. He’s sweet and charming and you feel like the only thing on his mind… until you drive away and someone pulls in to take your place on sheets still hot from your devotion.

I got a call from a girlfriend this morning. He propositioned her last night. That’s how much my words hit home. She told me because she didn’t want me to hear it from anyone else, and what she said next really made me feel better for the first time.

S- I realized I could take advantage of him for free drinks. I knew I could flirt with him and he’d pay for my whole evening. It just wasn’t worth it because I love you and you’re amazing and he’s absolutely unforgivable.

I got off the phone and laughed. For the first time it really hit me. He’s really that awful. He’s really that worthless and he really cares that little about the sweet women that get caught up in his web.

Speaking of webs… my darling Anthony called to read me The Spider & The Fly. I seriously have the best friends, ever.

“I’m sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high; 
Will you rest upon my little bed?” said the Spider to the Fly. 
“There are pretty curtains drawn around; the sheets are fine and thin, 
And if you like to rest awhile, I’ll snugly tuck you in!” 
Oh no, no,” said the little Fly, “for I’ve often heard it said, 
They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed!”

Mary Howitt knew him or at least of the horrible spiders he patterns his life after. So did I, for that matter- because it’s one of my favorite books. I climbed out of bed this morning and went looking for it.  Laughing over the pictures and brimming with my own life coursing through my veins while Anthony read me his favorite highlights and I watched the sun come up.

Like it or not, this arrogant man has occupied a space in my heart that I couldn’t eradicate him from. I’ve tried. I’ve dated, I’ve flown thousands of miles and still thought about him on the shores of paradise island with the man I thought would be my someday husband. I’ve done everything I could think to do, to shake this horrible crush.


The Spider turned around about, and went into his den, 
For well he knew the silly Fly would soon come back again: 
So he wove a subtle web, in a little corner sly, 
And set his table ready, to dine upon the Fly. 
Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing, 
“Come hither, hither, pretty Fly, with the pearl and silver wing; 
Your robes are green and purple — there’s a crest upon your head; 
Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead!”

So I should thank him, because he did what I couldn’t do. He made me hate him so much I will never look him in the face again.

I wont settle for a hoarder- ever again. I will never take his infidelity personally. I will never contribute another dollar to his existence.

More than that?

I will thrive in his absence. I will blossom in my new life and new job, surrounded by dear friends and a bunch of new ones. I’ll make getting over him look so good it’s cruel.

The difference between him and I is that I care about my character and the effect I have on people around me. I love deeply and treasure the people who respect and return those feelings. I’m not happy with myself when I sink to the level of a douche bag or a friend who would ever consider going near the guy who mopped the floor with me. Twice. I’m working my ass off to be more positive, to fill my life with good things and to be contagiously happy to the people around me. I want to be nicer. I want to steal the nasty words out of the mouths of the people who hate me. That’s my goal and he only drags me further from realizing it.

So I got hurt. So my heart got tossed into the fire, again… that’s not all that went up in flames.

He’s laughed and introduced himself as the hoarder. He’s mocked me to my face. He’s 86′d me for using his name when it’s his own damn fault everyone already knows who he is.

I was raised to write a thank you note when someone has done me a favor, and this is probably the best one anyone has ever done for me.

Dear Hoarder,

Thank you. For all the disappointment and tears I’ve wasted on you. Thank you for showing me, once and for all- that you’re not worth any of it.

Thank you for showing me who my real friends are. Thank you for showing me who isn’t. Thank you for fucking the worst of them.

Thank you for making Thomas Murray look like a nice person… you make my whole Puerto Rican nightmare lapse in good judgement look like a Make-A-Wish trip to Disneyland.

Thank you for 86′ing me from your presence. I’ve been a glutton for punishment and you’ve just saved me from myself. If you meant it as an insult, perhaps you should look in the mirror and take stock of your flawed character. I appreciate it more than a dozen roses- and let’s be honest… if you sent roses to all the women you owe them to, you’d have to sell your car to cover the bill.

Thank you, a million times over and then some. For whatever reason and perhaps it’s my own flawed character rearing her ugly head- I learn lessons the best when they hurt the most. You may have broken my heart, but you made me a fortune in the process. Hoard on, hoarder.

I loved you. I thought you were a really amazing man. Thank you for showing me how wrong I was- and thank you for not falling in love with me. I deserve so much better than you.

You may have disrespected, discounted and underestimated me… but when I insulted you? You bought the domain. I’m just sayin’…

Might I suggest a tattoo? Cause you’re kinda known for being a hoarder now, and that’s got to make hoarding a little difficult. Perhaps you should just run with it, because you clearly have a second set of balls where your soul should be.

Thank you, for showing me just how bad a man can be. Thank you for teaching me what the bottom of the barrel looks like.

Oh and you’re welcome.

Your friends like me, your dog loves me and the women you lie to, read my blog.

Good luck, and thanks again- I’d say I owe you one, but I’d rather leave you with an ironic bit of truth you don’t know about me.

My legal first name is actually Ashley.

Peace out- motherfucker- and really… go buy yourself a chin.

And now dear little children, who may this story read,
To idle, silly flattering words, I pray you ne’er give heed:
Unto an evil counsellor, close heart and ear and eye,
And take a lesson from this tale, of the Spider and the Fly.

Sorry about your bad luck…

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I’m fed up with stupid people. I’m annoyed by idiots.

More than anything? I’m inconvenienced by the ignorant and I’m frustrated enough to vent a little.

I’m blissfully happy these days. Drowning in domestic bliss and completely sunburned from hours in the dirt and doing facials with my daughter and her best friend after their school dance.

Pizza and giggles. Aunt MSOK came over to do her hair magic and the two of us giggled in the middle of my acre of dirt. Holy shit it’s huge. She loves my design. I love her.

Life is made so much better by the friends that mean the most. She’s more than my friend, she’s my sister. She knows everything there is to know… even the big stuff. Even the stuff you don’t tell anyone…. and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I drive her insane whining about the same guy, and she works overtime to listen and burn his bridges to the ground- with truth.

Life is about spending it with people that love you, not people that judge you. I don’t have time for anyone who chooses to wear their judgy panties. No time at all… those bitches can hang out with the hoarders. They deserve each other.

That said. I’m about to get a little mad and a lot honest.

To my single friends. It’s very simple if you want to keep him/her.. It’s all about making them wonder if you like them or not. That’s all it is. Don’t respond to phone calls or texts. Don’t have sex with him or her. Torture them with your feigned disinterest based indecision… and wa-la! They’re all yours.  Yeah… fuck that tragic bit of post-highschool histrionics. I like sharks. I like men who see something they want and actively pursue it. I like men that value having exclusive rights. In other words… we have to play the crazy manipulative stalker card or we lose? No. Give me a skilled hunter gatherer, thanks.

Anytime, anywhere… as a woman… when you’re treated like a cheap paper napkin from the KFC drive-through? It hurts.When your sensitive lightweight napkin self has to continually float through his presence… it’s even worse. The moral of the story? If he treats you like a shitty napkin… look at him for the disease carrying controlled substance he is/should be. Wash your hands… with bleach. Pour the rest of the gallon in the bathtub and climb in. Sorry about your bad luck- you should have listened to that snake charmer story more closely…. because you’ve officially been charmed… by a snake. Until it’s on Facebook? It’s not real. Sorry about your bad luck again- if you’re not given the public nod? It’s because there are other women on his FB that he bangs… or wants to.

To the lady at the gas station, bank, bar, grocery store…etc… that hates me because I’m thinner, prettier, etc…than them. Fuck you. I was 265 lbs at my heaviest and I worked my ass off LITERALLY. I’d like to get back down to my goal weight because I enjoy the attention. So there. That’s honest. Wanna be hotter? Lose weight. Wanna open a new page on the menu? Don’t eat dessert, don’t have a drink and run to the grocery store instead of drive.

Nobody said it didn’t suck- and trust me, you’ll end up hating those naturally skinny bitches ten times more. Think about it though. They’re sober, exhausted and they date the worst of the worst of the douche bags because the GQ model guys are the biggest assholes of all time. Popped collar? No. In fact I think I threw up in my mouth a little just typing that. Beyond all that, don’t be a bitch. Don’t glare at me because you’re jealous. Sorry about your bad luck, try harder and FYI- Haterade is high in calories. Kick the habit, or better yet? Love yourself enough that you don’t have to hate anyone else because you don’t. Fix it or flaunt it- or fuck right off.

To my unhappily married friends… where do I even begin… oh I know. Leave each other the fuck alone. The rest of us are tired of hearing you bitch about it. Sorry it didn’t work out, sorry you hate each other now SHUT THE FUCK UP and break up already. Sorry he cheated, sorry you did, sorry you both ARE. I DON’T CARE!!! I shovel my own snow. I haul my own trash. I manage. I don’t love it and I’d love to be some spoiled chick with auto start and a heated driveway- but I’m not. So I shut up and do it. The same goes for marriage. If you signed on for eternal financial security and sex on demand- QUIT BITCHING. If you don’t want to sign on anymore, then sign the fuck out. It’s that simple. If you’re torturing each other you are wasting years of your lives being unhappy. More than that? You’re torturing the fuck out of everyone around you. Spare us if you don’t give a shit enough about yourselves anymore. Don’t fool yourself- we all think of ways to avoid hanging out with you because of it. Sorry about your bad luck, call a divorce attorney and end your marriage before your friends DIVORCE you. We’re over it.

To the shitty bosses… and really? Nothing is more disappointing. You miss spelling bees, dance recitals and your baby losing a tooth- only for the tooth fairy to have to fly to Grandma’s. You miss priceless moments in your life for these assholes and it doesn’t mean a thing. You’re the means to an end and just another name on the payroll. If you never came to work again, they wouldn’t notice. The hypocritical men and women that abuse the power they hold in being able to decimate your financial security. The boss that gossips and talks about the weight of his employees. The one that closes his eyes to it all. The one that is an overpowered monster and looks for your vulnerabilities.  The one who propositions you sexually. The one that drinks on the job. The one that makes everything worse when he’s on the floor. The one that hits on the customers. The one that doesn’t respect you enough to move out of your way. We’ve all had one. We all know “that” guy.

I’m sorry about your bad luck, it’s the social network/blog age and if you don’t treat people kindly or with some modicum of respect? They can have an opinion about that could make you look like the…well… jerk you are. As they say- opinions are like assholes, everyone has one. Unfortunately for the bad guys? Opinions are a lot louder now than they used to be. Fortunately- there’s a very simple way to solve all this. Be kind. Be appreciative. Be understanding and be considerate of how your choices affect the lives of others. Be thankful for the people who make your dreams come true, because in the end it wont matter how much money you made- it will matter what kind of character you built.

Come on… be less annoying and be more happy. ♥ Happy beats being pissed off, every time.

Woody’s Profile

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The pictures on his profile include one from his junior year in high school, one with his kids and my personal favorite… shown above, of him holding an axe.  His profile is simply too much.

Sober One Kenobe came over and I had to show it to her… and we both spent a solid ten minutes rolling laughing, and decided it would be mean to keep it all to ourselves. Enjoy :)

Interests
BBQ Camping Fishing
Softball Football Hockey
Baseball Crabbing Hanging with Friends
Volunteering in kids sports trees gardening
animals birds crawdad catching by hand life
my kids asian food sushi
nice women warm rain loud thunder
bon fires spirituality God
recycling cup of coffee kids smiling
silent laughter
About Me
Where do I start? Well as you can see I am more then the average guy. I do have a life that is full and rewarding. I am self employed and I travel over 6 States inspecting aerial boom trucks. It means I have some smarts and a job.
Anyways, why am I here? I believe there is that one special woman who is actually looking for that special man and is tired of all the BS. The good man may take things slow and may not have you see stars with a kiss at first but with patience and love, that kiss will become fireworks if you let it.
I have to point out that I live in the country with trees. This seems to bother most women, I guess it may be too much fresh air, I guess. This is where I raise my kids and it is where they call home. When I am home, I would like to meet a good woman who know how to put in a garden. I want to learn how to can food. I want to learn to prume my fruit trees properly and learn how to produce bigger fruits. Life is great and I want to enjoy.
Ok here is a great question. How many of you gals ever had a man that went out of his way to buy groceries because he seen your frig and cupboard was a little empty?? How many of you had that man fill your tank with gas because you were low on funds?? How many of you had a man that would not have you pay for dinner but smiled when you bought him a latte?? How many of you had a man fix dinner for you because he knew you were coming home late from work?? Give a hard working and nice guy a try and see if you will see stars.
First Date
I like to take things slow. There should be no hurry in getting to know someone. Coffee, lunch, or breakfast is the best way to get to know someone. No movies I don’t know you yet. No dinners at first, tired of professional daters, just say no and move on.
To send a message to woody you MUST meet the following criteria:
Female
Age between 29 and 38.
Must not have messaged users looking for intimate encounters or sex.
Must not be looking for Talk/E-mail
Must not be looking for Intimate Encounter

A response from Woody.

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I gotta give the guy a tiny fraction of props. He didn’t rant and rage and call me a nasty bitch.

I honestly think this is his approach, and I believe I can detect a hint of respect in his email.

Go figure… perhaps he’s one of those guys that gets off on having a woman walk on his chest in her stilettos. I’ll stick with unemployment, thanks…

Read on…

Dear J-

:) Did that not feel good to let all that out? Just let you know my mother died from ovarian cancer when I was 6. I never had a mother to fall back on.

You been hurt lots and I can see that. I know I been hurt and your statements just lets me see how how bad things can get.

You put a lot of passion into your words and believe me, I never knew a woman could have that sort of passion, negitive or positive. You are a wonderful woman but I had to see from your profile just how bad you had it. Your profile just screams anger!

I was just testing the water. I might be a spineless weaselly asshole to you but sometimes you need to drop a rock into a hole to see how deep it is. With you, all I did was drop a rock and it was deep.

As far as the Raiders Sucks, it is ok, I hear it all the time. The tailgate parties before the games is a blast.

Have a great day J, I like you for standing your ground and telling me your piece of mind, I have lots of respect for you for doing that. It is more real then the BS I have been dealing with. Woody

A sincere apology… ish.

However, I stand behind my philosophy… men are so much crazier than women- and I may never date again.

Eyes wide open…

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Worrying about money keeps me up at night. Blech. Yuck. Blah. Nothing is more pointless then ruining tomorrow worrying about today.

But it happens every time, without fail.

So yawn…. I’m sleepy and facing hour after hour of transplanting tomatoes, planting flowers and weeding… an acre. Good grief.

I’m knee deep in thistle when my phone buzzes against my chest and it’s another internet dating email. I haven’t deleted one profile purely to remind myself why it’s NOT a good idea to date strangers.

I fully embrace my finely tuned procrastination skills and today is no exception. I decided to take a break and came inside to check my email.

Only to find this little gem. lol… and by gem, I mean laughable example of self aggrandizing delusion. Maybe it’s Thomas? lol… He’s 36, and a veritable pervert, trolling for nothing more than sex with a ridiculous profile too tragic to publicize. Eww.

“Yo- Ok this is your final chance.. I mean,usually you would have to hit a pawn shop,or a titty bar to find a gentleman of my caliber and standing in this comunity.. And you have repeatedly let this slip away..”

Um. I’m torn. I’m sorely tempted to email him back to tell him to watch me do it again… but this almost requires more. What on earth makes some of these weirdos feel so compelled to chastise me for “letting them get away”? Sorry if I’m just not interested in dating the mayor of Crazytown.

As soon as you sign into these things, somewhere something pops up to let everyone know you’re online. Lovely. The creepers come flying at me with multiple chat boxes in minutes and I accidentally clicked on one. Up pops his nether regions and a message that says…

D- Wanna bang?

Good grief and yuck. No I do not. Ever. In fact I may take a break from sewing the diaper covers I’m working on to go shower. These internet weirdos make you feel dirty WITHOUT even meeting them.

What happens in their lives to make them this way? What is it with men? I swear- my tolerance for douche baggery has officially worn out and I could not be less interested in dating these losers if I were a lesbian.

It only got worse. As I was typing a rather scathing retort to douche bag number 1, two more emails came in.

Apparently someone left the gate open at Asshat Farm this morning, because this guy spent some serious time ranting at me. First two emails from him, one right after the other. Brace yourselves… this guy is going to be on the receiving end of my stress. He asked for it. Look.

W- Hi! Ok right to the point you are. Never seen a profile like yours before. Am I that guy! Are you that GIRL! lol. I thought all you women looked at the pretty flowers and decided who your partner is going to be. About 90% of you women don’t study and do your homework. You all end up picking Canadian Thistle or Knap weed, both have pretty purple flowers but a pain in the butt in the garden! You know what we all have in commen? We are all made of energy, energy attracts same energy. This day and age we want the person to be the right height, right looks, right hair, right eyes, right age! Do you think that energy cares about all that? That is the reason why our society is all screwed up by magazines, TV, and Media. We are programmed to think that we have to have physical perfection and not energy perfection, so do you think your THAT GIRL? You’ll probably be like the rest and say what a jerk I am because I am to straight forward. I can say by looking at your profile and reading what little you have to say and being pissed off, I would bet 10 to 1 odds that you have no clue yourself because all the pretty boys your after run from you, huh? I am older but I have been around the block more then once, you think you can look at me from your energy and heart that we could have the same energy? If not and your eyes have been programmed to only look at the pretty purple flowers, I have to say good luck. If your heart is big, give me a message and lets chat. Woody

W- Oh the other thing! I would never take you out on a date! I would take you to a movie where you can’t ask me about half a billion questions. Maybe fishing, you start talking, I would say shhhhhh your scaring the fish! If you say coffee, I would only laugh because that is a BS way to meet, it is a hit and run tactic. Chew on that and really see if you know what a real man is? Woody

Let me get this straight. All women want pretty flowers and are attracted to knapweed? Just for arguments sake, this is what knapweed looks like:

Um… perhaps it’s just me and my trillion flowers in my big ol’ garden… but I don’t find it pretty- not to mention it’s a noxious weed and hurts like hell if you pull it with bare hands. At any rate… don’t even get me started on thistle, which I combat in my garden every day. Yeah… give me the nasty impossible to kill weed that leaves me with feet full of tiny slivers each year. I want that one.

But… considering the men I’ve dated, perhaps I have been picking weeds over flowers. He may have a point there. Frankly- my favorite flowers have to be flown in, I’m damn high maintenance in that regard. This man is NOWHERE near the tuberose I love so much. He’s more like runty little dandelion that keeps getting choked out by the knapweed.

To make things worse… he’s a Raiders fan. I couldn’t date a Raiders fan if he were a walking sweettalking Adonis. No. I’m a football girl and I hate the Raiders. Yuck. No. I will never understand how these idiots think that insulting a woman or denigrating her character or immediately assuming she’s a stuck up bitch purely because she’s not interested, is ever going to work.

Which is when I get to the line that says it all.

“You’ll probably be like the rest and say what a jerk I am because I am to straight forward.”

No, sir… I’m going to tell you a whole lot more than you want to know about yourself. Right after I mock you on the internet and call you out for the rude little asshole you are, bad taste in football even, ew. Get your man card out, I’m about to burn it.

Oy VEY. This is his everyday attempt? Seriously? He’s busy worrying about weeds and he should be learning how to be polite, or at least take the standard approach and start with less than a novel-long rant about the men that are outdoing him.

Lol… he’s willing to bet 10 to 1 odds that my favorite pretty boys run from me? Huh… I am unemployed and that’s a damn quick way to make some money. I have a right mind to take him up on that bet. What an amazing statement to make with the actual idea that it’s going to illicit a positive response. Someone should warn him he just barked up the very wrong tree. Perhaps my response will have him re-examining his approach. Probably not, but it’s worth a shot.

The second email just defies my ability to be nice. I must insult this man. It’s my duty. He’ll never take me on a date or he’ll take me to a movie or fishing to shut me up? Oh boy… what a gem. He’s right about the coffee though- that’s precisely why it’s a perfect first internet date. Less is ALWAYS more.

A real man… now that was the straw that broke the camels back. He’s not expecting this, that’s for sure.

Dear Woody,

Where do I even start… oh and you’re welcome, ahead of time. Ordinarily I wouldn’t bother responding when I’m not interested but for the good of all single womankind, I’m making an exception.

You seem to equate being rude with being straight forward, so please enjoy my “straight forward” response.

First and foremost, contacting someone for the first time with your mouth full of insults, preconceived notions and criticism will get you exactly what you deserve… the painful truth. I’ll happily take you up on that bet, and with 10-1 odds, maybe I’ll take a vacation with one of those “pretty boys” you’re so threatened by.

Better yet? I’ll buy a sexy little black dress that says “Raiders Suck”. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to post a picture so you can see what a smart woman looks like. I’ll take special joy watching my Chargers kick your ass this year. Can’t wait.

Men who post pictures of their children on their internet dating profile should be given a free shot of anti-freeze, IJS.

As for dating me? Not only would I not suffer through a cup of coffee with you, if you had the balls to shhhh me fishing? I’d throw your short fat ass off the boat and let you swim back to shore. It doesn’t look like you’d make it. I believe that’s the definition of famous last words. I don’t have a billion questions for you, but you’d need a handgun and chloroform to get me alone in a dark room, even a movie theater full of pretty boys.

As a matter of fact? I am THAT girl. I’m funny, sweet & thoughtful. I am an amazing girlfriend and a great mother.

Better than that? I’m a writer, and your lame, insulting and unsolicited bullshit has been blogged for a few hundred of my closest friends.

I’m the whole package, and you sir, are a douchebag. Go climb back under your rock before you end up drowning on your swim back to shore.

Oh and good luck to you too. Luck is all that could save you, in my opinion. Luck or a nice Russian mail-order bride catalog, a handgun or a successful abduction. I’d suggest you start by paying for it first.

I don’t think you’re a jerk for being straight forward- I think you’re a spineless weasely asshole who likes to belittle women. Being a jerk would be a huge improvement for you. Perhaps you should start with a little counseling and working on your relationship with your mother, because DUDE… this SCREAMS mommy issues.

Have a nice day!

J

Good Lord. I may die a born-again virgin.