Turnabout is fair play.


I sat down at the table across from him, hoping the thoughts running through my head weren’t rolling out like a ticker tape banner across my face. I had the wonderful misfortune of inheriting my Grandmother’s Irish green eyes and the temper to match. I’m not good at keeping my feelings to myself, though most times there’s no need to ask if I’m upset. If my eyes don’t alert you, my eyebrows will. Subtlety is not my cup of tea.

I’m mad at him and he knows it. He’s fighting to keep the corners of his mouth from curling into a smile and I’m simmering.

McH- I had something interesting happen.

Me- That’s nice.

McH- Yeah… I was sitting at the bar, having a beer when Mrs. Margarita turned to me and said “Are you Incredicock?”

I gasped & my mouth fell open. I haven’t been that stunned in a long time, but eventually laughed while he gave me the gory details. He prides himself on not reading but is aware of what I’ve nicknamed him. Ironically enough, I’m one of those prudish girls who hates the words cock & cunt. I could never call him Incredicock to his face, so to hear him say it out loud was shocking.

I’m always a little surprised anybody bothers to read while I whine on endlessly, especially when it’s about a man behaving all too basic. To hear that it’s a friend of ours and one that reads enough to identify him from my indefinite rambling on? To his face? Well, that makes my whole damn month.

It serves him fucking right. 😛 I’m over here suffering, missing him like crazy while he laughs about it.

To my darling Mrs. Margarita,

Thank you, my darling lady-love! You’re a true homie. I appreciate you handing him some of my suffering in a shocking little bomb of a package. You’re amazing and I only wish I were there too!

xo J

30 Days of Truth, Day 15

Day 15 — Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it.

The person in my life who is missing would not appreciate being the topic, so I’m taking the easy street on this one.

I tried living without one boob for about 3 years. I’m not sure what happened, but I was getting in the shower one morning, looked down and realized that I’d ruptured my left breast implant.

Shock, horror, tears… it all happens in that moment… then you get in the shower and move on with life. I couldn’t afford to fix them at the time, and I was serving every night so having one boob wasn’t an option.

Let me define what I mean by having one boob. I had one perfect, saline filled DD, and one very empty, sad B. I became quite skilled at balancing them out in a bra, and honestly didn’t think twice about it at the time because I had SO many other things to deal with.

I didn’t care, if I’m going to be completely honest. They’d breastfed all three of my babies to great success and their purpose had been filled. My vanity had evaporated somewhere in between the Dumpling being born and turning 2. Hours in court fighting over that same baby had given me a sour taste in my mouth towards men. The only reason I’d ever consider touching one again was that I didn’t want my ex to be the last.

and then Mr. Perfection came home to visit… and I very much wanted to unwrap him.

So I did.

Now, vanity is a fickle bitch. Just when you think she’s long gone, she shows back up with a vengeance. It doesn’t help that he’s a decade younger and doesn’t have children. The more clothes I pulled on over my head, the more he unbuttoned and unlaced them.

P- Hey, take these off…

J- All of them?

P- Yes please…  I want you naked.

Well, shit. All the planning in the world couldn’t save me from that. In tossing off my pride and panties, I made a mental note to call my surgeon and schedule an appointment to pick up a new set.

I didn’t need anything fancy…. just two of them. I picked them up in January and that empty boob is now a large, painful one. I’m confident it will heal in a couple more months, but it’s a humbling thing to realize that I traded feeling 100% for vanity.

…………But the next time I’m in that moment and he tells me to take my clothes off, I won’t be hiding in a panic over it.

I’ll be breaking out my shiny new stripper pole to put these bad boys to work. 🙂