Last Post of the Year!

Happy New Year Everyone!

It is December 31st 2010. In 7 1/2 hours it will be a new year. What a year 2010 has been - well at least for me, and for those in my life and those who I don't know that read this blog you know all about what a whirlwind it has been. So since every show, paper, site is doing a top ten list for 2010 I thought my last post of the year would be something in that effect.

And not of the highs and lows of the world or the year in headlines but my world because hey - some good and bad shit has gone down. So here it all is the highs and lows of 2010 for me in no particular order:

High - Snagging a french model. Whom I still date when he is in the country. And have a good relationship with. God he's hot.

Low - Getting stranded in San Diego. I never blogged about this. But close friends know the story of how I visited my brother in SD for a weekend and we got into a fight before dinner and he left me stranded. I had to walk back to the hotel, thank god I had my iphone with google maps.

High - Getting 7 tattoos in one year. If that doesn't clinch my rockstar status, I don't know what will.

Low - In one weekend my bed got peed in (not by me) and I ruined it with the sexy brit. Which I then ate shit and apologized in a post. I still wonder...eh I would have ruined it eventually.

High - My new job. And the discount I get. Nuff said.

Low - Thinking a guy was going to kill me because I offered to call in the dinner order.

High - The rockstar weekend Court and I had. That was amazing. How we survived that I have no idea. Probably the fact that during the day we laid on my roof and drank gatorade.

Low - The day I almost lost it being single. One night I didn't have plans and it nearly drove me to the brink of loneliness and despair.

Now no more lows...whats the point?

High - The complete opposite of that, I am completely happy to spend this day alone.

High - The day I moved into my new apt.

High - The day I got my divorce papers.

High - When I got rid of the one negative friend in my life. Whom I still dearly love and miss on the daily.

High - The chip bowl. If you ever come to my place you will experience it. It is heaven.

High - Every day is a high. Every day is good. Every day I give and get love.

I wish for all of you that last high. That every day in 2011 is a high, is good and you give and get love. That you enjoy every second of every day. A wise woman once said "life is temporary." It most certainly is. Treat this new year as your last and live life to the fullest through the highs and lows. Because what doesn't kill you makes you stronger and after every storm is a rainbow.

Have a safe and happy fucking new year. Trust me, next year is gonna be better.

xoxo

Update!

Apparently I am narcissistic now. All courtesy of - you guessed it! - the "anonymous commenter." Now I am not sure if I am a narcissistic sociopath, or if Mr Pathetic realizes the err of his ways and deems me now only narcissistic and I am no longer a sociopath.

Here is the definition of narcissism: Narcissism is the personality trait of egotism, vanity, conceit, or simple selfishness. Applied to a social group, it is sometimes used to denote elitism or an indifference to the plight of others.

Ok, now I hashed this out with my mother - whom as we all know knows everything that goes on in my life. In her opinion (which is all that really fucking matters in my life) I am by no means a sociopath and if this person thinks I am one then they are indeed a pathetic loser. But she did agree that I am slightly narcissistic - which I am allowed to be - and in only one case. When it comes to men.

I am not selfish nor do I think I am better than any single one person that I care about that is a family member or a friend. Not by any means. I do not think that way at all. There is no point to that in my mind. I do not have an ego, nor am I conceited. Do I think I'm ugly? Fuck no, but I am not conceited.

But, why can't I be selfish with what I want when it comes to a relationship? But more importantly why shouldn't anyone? Why can't we go out with someone a few times and decide, this person is not good enough for me? Which in effect is saying you are better then them whether it is because of a moral code or you don't think they are good looking enough for you, or they are lazy, or you don't think that what they do for a living equals your work or isn't at a level that you feel it should be at if you are going to be with them?

I had a life of selflessness. I was not selfish in any way and gave my life up for someone. And if I found the right person again I would be the same way. But I'll tell you one god damn thing, fuck yes I am selfish right now and if I meet someone even if I like them, until there is a long enough period of dating along with a "we are exclusive" conversation, no fucking way am I not going to do what I want to do all the while blogging about it and making sure I am having fun.

Because at the end of the day, if we are not fucking happy then something ain't working right. And sometimes to ensure your happiness you need to be selfish, though in my case lets call it narcissistic.

And let me repeat myself again, because apparently it wasn't clear the first time I said it. I know exactly who you are, and at this point you are becoming a joke. No one just happens on this blog, and no one would post any of these comments on my posts if they weren't some pathetic desperate poor excuse for a man that at this point is acting like a pussy girl. You decided to get your panties in a twist over my posts. For no good reason, why because you felt you were being used for sex? Or felt that I couldn't fuck or see other people after only seeing you a few days? Please. Now I really really suggest you move on and stop posting your twatty bitchy comments, because do not think I will not get really pissed off and blast out your full name, address and phone number on here and facebook.

Hey Anonymous Commenter! This one's for you

Apparently some "random anonymous" person "just happened to stumble on my blog" the other day and had a comment to my post about never ever telling a guy that I am seeing the url to this site. And quite weirdo the comment it was:

"Wow, stumbled upon this blog the other day, and I'm just sayin' --> http://www.mcafee.cc/Bin/sb.html. PrepareToBeJudged yourself. "

So I click the link curious and......Its a profile of a sociopath! Seriously? Really?! A little much no?

Now here's the thing "anonymous" you are most definitely not "anonymous" I firmly believe I know exactly who you are. You are someone I ran through. I believe you are the person that asked me not to blog about them in anyway. The one guy I gave the url to. Because see, any normal person not associated with me, and more so a normal person who is associated with me, would not under any circumstances view that post as written by a sociopath. Or view me as a sociopath.

But a pathetic man who can not handle what I put out there would. Because it makes it easy to excuse their own weaknesses.

So lets be real clear here, as to what I am. Sociopath? no, player? yes, I am a man in a cute little blondes body that gets bored easily. One who does want a relationship but is extremely picky. As I should be. If all I like someone for is sex, than that's all it will ever be.

Ted Bundy, Susan Smith, John Wayne Gacy I am most certainly not and to accuse as such is pathetic. Feel free to stay off this blog and put me on your do not call list.

Don't hate the player hate the game, and hate the fact that you fell for it.

The only time I want a boyfriend....

Is days like today - when I wake up with the full blown flu. I knew I was getting it Tuesday night but did that stop me from going out last night? Noooooooooo. Don't be crazy! Let's weigh the options...

going out with a friend you haven't seen in forever vs. going home and sleeping so that you don't get worse.

I mean the answer is obvious no? Of course the former is what I did! How could I not? My favorite dive bar where we always did happy hour is closing for good tomorrow and we had to have last drinks there. Anyway I digress...

The only time I want a boyfriend is when I am sick. Its tough being single and sick, I mean who is going to take care of you? And me, I am a total baby when I am sick. But really who isn't? I really thought sleeping for 15 hours would kill it. I then considered going to the gym to sweat it out (to which my mother basically in a nutshell called me an idiot) but I realized quickly that I probably wouldn't make it down the block without passing out.

The worse thing about all this? I have absolutely no food in my house, not even a can of soup or chicken broth (seriously my fridge contents are - condiments, southern comfort, beer and water) so at some point I will have to shower and go get food. But if I had a boyfriend he could get me food.

Sigh. Who am I kidding I will want a boyfriend today and tomorrow and then by Saturday be glad I don't have one.

I'm going to do a shot of NyQuil and call it a day.

Dear My Chemical Romance,

Let me be the first to congratulate you on jumping the shark.

Your single "sing" fucking sucks.

Big dick - HUGE!- it sucks....FYI....

That's my Christmas present to you from me - which I don't want to give but you're welcome... you suck and jumped the shark. At this point in your career you can stop playing music. And no one will mind. That's how much it sucks (though I hated you before this post. It is just now reinforced.).

Thanks so much for putting it out there and then cock teasing me into thinking that just because your video is on MTVHITS its going be good.

I was sorely mistaken.


Dicks. :)

A little piece of advice...

"Don't stop fucking your tattoo artist until you're done getting tats...you just wind up paying...and it's more fun paying in sex."

--- Me. Though maybe next time when I get it filled in I won't have to pay..........hmmmmmm.......

I know, I know...

I have been neglecting you. I'm sorry. But seriously all the dating, and work, and boys, and gym, and work and boys....

I don't have time to blog. But I promise I will blog 2x a day from here on in. MINIMUM. Once in the morning and once at night. MINIMUM.

There are three good posts below for you....

Remind me to..

Never, ever, ever! tell a guy that I am dating my url for this blog....

I don't like being told not to blog about someone, and I don't like trying to not blog about things that might make someone uncomfortable. Or awkward. Or jealous. Or question me. I don't like questions.....

I'm usually good with this, I might tell a guy I am dating that I blog but never give it up (the site name that is) but I did recently and well.....

I'm sure what I put out here will ruin it, but whateves, if you can't take the heat get out of the kitchen (specifically mine). It's my life and I will put it out there its my first amendment right no?

And plus that's my MO, to ruin shit just when it gets good. Oh well...

I guess at the end of the day, the man that I end up with will be able to read about my past (or current) rants/antics and put up with them.

If not......later babe.

I love telling the stories

Of how I meet my men. Even if I have told it numerous times....I was able to tell one today actually. One of my favorites... And it was pretty awesome as to how I was able to start that conversation.....

I was at work talking to a girl that I work with (as opposed to bullshitting on the phone with a friend which I do not do ever [hmmmm mmmmm]) about what I needed from her for an upcoming mailer...as we are bullshitting I start flipping through the NYT. Not to read it but to see if we have a 2x7 ad printed. We did not, but there was a Brioni ad....And I dated - well kinda date - the model (french model - natch) that always is in their ads.

I pick up the paper as I am in mid sentence and say "I'm dating him, well we date when he is in the country." She then snatched the main news out of my hand and looked at the ad, then looked at me, then looked at the ad, then looked at me and said..."that makes sense..how did you meet him?"

Intrigued by the "that makes sense" comment I proceed to tell her the story...Its a pretty good one, which I won't go into detail, but summary is this...:

"You're Beautiful (in a french accent)"
"Uh-huh, please save your game, I'm cute, got cute down pat, beautiful..no. Go chat up someone else"

I avoided him the whole party in a sense, (which he was there 15 minutes of) but couldn't avoid him when he followed me out for a cigarette, then spent a weekend with him and when he is in town - not shooting campaigns or being shot for campaigns we go out on dates...That's the short version. The long version of course is better.

But I tell you, its nice to pick up a paper or magazine and see someone you've been with that some people would say is out of your league and gloat.

After I told the story I say "why does that make sense to you?" The response was this...:

"Because you don't give a fuck, and you are hot whether you like it or not, and a guy like that wants to be with someone who doesn't want or need them. And your it."

"My mother said pretty much the same thing."

"She's a smart lady"

"Damn fucking straight."

Did I ever tell you the story....?

Of when I thought a guy I was dating was going to kill me? No? Really? huh. Well here it goes....

This happened on Halloween weekend (I know I know..it's been too long of me not blogging, sorry, with the dating and the new job and the sex....well you know...)

It was the day after Halloween, and this guy I was dating for a bit wanted me to come over for dinner and spend the night. Granted he lives in the UES (ick) but I work with a girl that lives two blocks away and we were going to commute in, plus, he spent many a night at my place so I was returning the favor.

I arrived and we...you know (I mean the sexual chemistry between us was insane, we couldn't not be in each others presence for more than 5 minutes without tearing off each others clothes) afterward he said, "when you have a sec come down and look at the menu and I will order food." No problem, I go downstairs and he is placing the order online. Now he picked this place because I requested for dinner a salad and fries (what better dinner?) I go on the site and the following ensues:

"hmmmm, they don't have fries.."
"They don't?"
"No, it's cool I will just get a quesadilla instead."
"Watch out let me look."

Now I'm like, "dude i'm not an idiot, I practically invented the interweb" but I don't say anything. He then accepts the fact that there is no fries and then says:

"What do you want to drink?"
"Nothing, tap water is fine."
"K, I want a bottled water, hmmmm why is there no drinks listed?"
"Really? That's weird."
"Yea."
"Well maybe there is something wrong with the site. Why don't you give me the number and I will call them and place the order?"
"No." (not very nice btw)
"Huh? Whaddya mean? Its no biggie I'll just call them and place it and they will have bottled water, its probably the site."

He looked up from the computer screen and gave me a look that no man has ever given me (even my ex when I would verbally eviscerate him) one that clearly sent alarm bells screaming "get out! get out of this house!" the moment we locked eyes. That this man wanted to punch me in the face. Now you may say a punch? Well that's hardly killing you...well that's up for discussion, if a guy hits me I am hitting the ground and cracking my head open, so death, yea that's pretty close. After I got the death look he responded "I. fucking. said. no."

Weird right?? Granted I saw some aggressive behavior in bed (who doesn't like that? Tell me? None you reading this) but out of bed, not hot at all.

"okaayyy."

I quietly went upstairs and starting getting dressed. He comes up and is all "what are you doing?" I am now in survival mode, not giving him my back, watching his every move, trying to not make any false moves and being calm. I respond "ooh just getting dressed....whats your problem?"

I am then told the following in no particular order: "this is my house and my rules and if you don' like it go, you were being a complete and utter bitch downstairs, oh don't give me your tears (I admit I did start crying. Why? well fucking duh, tears are the best weapon against a guy and I seriously thought I was not making it out of that house alive) "go ahead say something stupid to ruin this, blah blah blah."

He goes downstairs, I finish getting dressed and hightail it out of there. Literally ran down the stairs without my shoes - I didn't want him catching me.

Now the story doesn't end there. A week later at 8:00am I get the following text:

"Missing your hot little cunt"

YOU HAVE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME. I of course do not let this go. You who know me know I must get in the last word. The following texting ensued:

"That's nice. get used to missing it because you're never seeing it again."
":'("
"you can't actually be surprise by my response considering how you treated me the last time I saw you."
"You were a total bitch the last time you saw me. You were in a bad mood walking in the door. Should have fucked you harder."

AGAIN. YOU HAVE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME.

"I was not a total bitch and you treating me like a fucking asshole and being a dick because I offered to call the restaurant and place the order is uncalled for. I see you as a narcisstic controlling as who thinks women have no right to disagree or have their own opinion and want nothing to do with you do not contact me again."

Pretty clear right? Apparently not. Which brings me to the reason why I am posting this now....Mother fucker texted me last week!

"Yesterday was my birthday and I didn't get what I wanted as a present."
"really."
"really :'("
"I don't even know how to respond to this."
"You can respond by saying that you will give me my present."
"Or I can remind you of the fact that your an asshole and want nothing to do with you especially because you have yet to apologize for being a shit to me."
"I'm sorry for being a shit to you baby."

Now, how fucked am I that at that point I wasn't like....well.....Why you ask? Because he's an asshole, and at the end of the day I like assholes...its easier. No strings and some hope they will change but you know they won't and you really don't want a relationship...ugh whatever it makes sense in my head... Steve anyone? (That one's for you Alicia). But don't worry I put the kibosh on this shit. I do have moments of clarity and sanity...

"That's nice. I thought I was clear when I said do not contact me again. At this point I view this as harassment and all the men in my family that are cops will have no problem harassing you at both your home and office."

I don't think I will hear from him again. Maybe, hopefully...not.

Oh Children, They have so much to learn.

So recently I went out to brunch with a good friend of mine. One that I haven't seen in ages so of course the first hour is bullshitting over drinks catching up, talking about work, boys, what we are doing for the holidays, blah blah blah. While on the topic of boys, we realize children have so much to learn. And when I say children I mean anyone under the age of 25...

I start telling her a story of the night before, that I went to a party for my gym that is closing - well becoming an Equinox - and while there after dancing for hours and having a few drinks a boy caught my eye. I go outside to smoke a cigarette and we start chatting. We continue to chat inside and at some point he tells me he is 21.

Now, I thought he was cute but I did at that point stop and think "hmmmm....21? That's a little young even for me..." So you know what happened next right?

I totally made out with him. I know, you're shocked.

It was cold and started to rain, and I didn't have an umbrella so he gave me his hat and scarf.

Say it with me now ...... "awwwww"

Of course I was a little embarrassed that I made out with the child, but what the hell right?

So this prompted my friend to tell me a story about her encounter with a child.

She met a 24 year old and went home with him. The next day she had to do the walk of shame. So she borrowed a pair of his track pants (adidas - natch) and went home.

He texted the next day or two. Not to say hi or I'd like to see you again...but... to ask for his pants back! She didn't respond and then two days later he texted her again...wait for it....wait for it....to ask for his pants back...again! She deleted it again.

We are of course at this point hysterical laughing saying "doesn't he know the rules?!"

The rules? You ask? Yes the rules. There are a few but here is the main rule:

Any guy that gives a girl a piece of clothing can not expect it back. Why? Because he will never get it back. Nope. Never. Here we go boys.... if you give a girl a piece a clothing whether it be a hat, scarf, pants, t-shirt, etc you will never get it back. N-E-V-E-R.

Now most men (and when I say men I mean guys over 25) know this. Children don't.

He texted her 2 weeks later to say "um seriously, can I get my pants back?" Not just once but 5-6 times.

hahahahahahahahaaha she totally deleted every message he sent.

Suffice to say we had a good chuckle about that. But here is the best part, that night after brunch, the 21 year old texted me to say "hey do you think I can get my hat and scarf back soon?"

I couldn't help but laugh. I of course started hysterical laughing text it to my friend.....next day she responded "Oh children, they have so much to learn!"

yes. yes they do.

Is it bad to sleep with two guys in one night?

OK, technically yes it was one night, but it was two different days. Not following me? Here we go...

I met up with the old standard (I know, I know I ended that over that hellish labor day weekend but he reached out to me and as we all know... I'm an addict to him. I won't text him but if he texts me, I can't say no) on Saturday at 10pm. To my credit, I did treat him like a piece of meat (natch!) and then left for a "birthday party" - and when I say birthday party I mean the guy who has a butler (see the post below.)

Now this was the first time I was meeting the butler. I had no intention on doing anything. But.....what can I say? I'm a whore from time to time.

But when I banged butler guy it was 4am on Sunday. A totally different day. So technically its two different days right? I mean what can I say? There was no way I wasn't banging ol' standard and butler guy kinda grew on me after the first impression of - this guy is too straight for me wore off.

I mean seriously I was wearing thigh high boots. Totally pretty woman'd out. How could I not?

Yes it was bad even for me. But fuck that shit, I went 10 years with someone and had no sex. I'm having fun, taking names and making no excuse for it.

Don't hate. Congratulate.

I know, I know...

I have been neglecting you - my avid readers of this blog. But what can I say? I have been busy. Being a single sexy girl in NYC who just got a new job doesn't really have time for blogging. But I am going to try to blog a shitload on the weekends, in between dates that is. And errands....and the gym....

So that leaves me about an hour a week to blog. OK then, lets get to it.

I'm dating a guy (and when I say dating I mean banging) who has a butler. Yep that's right, he has a butler. How sick is that!? However, he's totally kinda really not my type. He's a lawyer that has his own firm, smokes cigars (which he smokes in private cigar bars) arrives in my place in pinstripe suits and looks all American. If I saw him at a bar I would not give him a second glance.

How I met him is none of your business. But in any event he's kinda smitten with me and hot damn he's good in bed. Super kinky which is totally the opposite of his outward persona. Which is what keeps me continuing this on.

Plus, he's kinda sweet in an "I'm a lawyer with a butler borderline asshole way" and it works because I don't need anything from him monetary wise. I am under the impression that most women he comes in contact with want his money I have my own.... But dur what girl doesn't want an asshole?!

But this is not the point of the story. This is, picture this....

1:30 Sunday afternoon in the upper east side, where all the uppity stepford like wives and their douchy financial titan husbands are taking their bratty kids to brunch there comes a girl with platinum blonde hair, in Tom Ford (yes I am throwing out the Tom Ford name) sunglasses, a lace tank top, leggings and killer, I mean Killer! thigh high leather boots, tattoos blazing, holding a leather jacket and hailing a cab to get home in time to shower and clean the house before her parents came over for dinner.....

yep you guessed it, that girl was me.

Only in New York.

I guess worse things could happen?

Soooooo I have had a few mini freak outs the past two weeks about...my jeans.....

Let me explain. I have about thirty (yes thirty) pairs of jeans. And only 3 fit. Three! Did you hear me? THREE! I have upped one pant size. A full pant size! I think, I'm not fully sure, all I know is that my skinny jeans stop mid thigh. And I know what the culprit is.....spinning.

That's right spinning. As you know, I am addicted to spin. How could I not? Have you seen my ass? If not, you should. I mean, I have not heard one complaint on my ass, quite the contrary in fact....but still, A whole pants size? EEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKK!

It's been quite the dilemma for me, I mean at the end of the day I am a girl. No girl wants to have to go up in a pants size. And true, this fall season was all about skirts and dresses, but there are times where I am going to want to wear jeans you know? So I have considered stopping spinning for a while and just run not spin at all. But if I did that you wouldn't be able to bounce a quarter off my ass....and yes granted I was too thin. I mean size 24/25? borderline anorexic. What's the harm in going to a 26?

I'll tell you the harm. Buying a shit load of jeans - and my jeans are not cheap. Seven for mankind only dears (they're the only ones that fit right ok?). Also the mental mindfuck of being a girl and having to try on a larger size - no matter what size.

Anyfatasswhoo they have changed the spin schedule at the gym and I am starting a new job on Monday so I will (at least for a little while) only be able to spin 3x a week so I have picked up running as well. I mean I gotta get my cardio in, I don't want my bum to flatten out, but honey it can't get any bigger.

My cousin has nick named me Lance - for Lance Armstrong - for all the spinning I have done. I don't find it funny, again no girl wants to go up a pant size even if it is because she is gaining muscle.

But I made my decision today on what I am going to do. It is all summed up by the following conversation that I had at the gym with my bestie Mr. Means (Mr Lawyer he doesn't care if I use his name FYI):

"So I have decided I am just going to buy all new jeans."

- me

"Well yea gurl, you're looking good, whatcha gonna stop and get all saggy ass and be too thin??"

- Mr. Means

(don't think I didn't consider this as an option, or dieting.)

"I know, I like my ass, it looks good so fuck it. New Jeans it is."

- me

American Express is going to fucking love me this weekend as will the Seven store on Bleeker.

Of course

I go to the south and get into a tiff with a Boston Redsux fan.

Le Sigh. And no it wasn't my fault people.

So, Sunday morning after my very nice time with the southern gentleman (natch) we stopped off at a gas station so I could get water, apple juice and smokes (the essentials you know.). When this conversation went down after being ID'd;

"Soooo are you a giants or a jets fan?"

"Uh, um giants of course. It's all about, Yankees and Giants. Can't do the Met's and Jet's."

"Well it doesn't really matter since they all suck."

At this point I'm like "what the fuck?" And am about to say something when...

"You know, we really shouldn't talk shit, since our team (the Carolina panthers) ain't doing so good right now.."

- from the southern gentleman

"Yea your right, but whatever I'm from up north, from Boston and hate NY teams."

"Oh, so you are a red sux fan then?"

- me

"ha, yea I am"


" Oh yea so sorry, sux to be you."

"Whatever, you can hate all you want you're not going to win the world series this year, ya'll ain't going far."


"Oh really? Well I think we got a pretty good shot, and what about the Redsux? Oh that's right they didn't make it to the playoffs."

"Whatever blah blah blah"

I totally sashayed right out of there totally ignoring anything more he could possibly say. I mean of course I run into a Boston fan in the south. And of course he is a dick. I mean for god's sake he was really being a dick and looking for a fight with me. Me! this kid was like 3x my size, bleh whatever, he's from Boston and I guess guys from Boston feel like men when they try to get into arguments with 5'3" petite blondes.

pfft.

This blonde.....

Prefers southern gentlemen.

Or Europeans. I'm over northern men. Yep over'em. So at this point all southern men need to move up to NY and all the New York men need to get the hell out of dodge.

Oh and if your wondering - hell yes I banged me a southern boy this weekend. When in the south.....

I mean come on, they open all doors for you, call you ma'am, are totally respectful while putting you in your place, won't let any other guy look at you twice, have great accents and most importantly can fuck like nobody's business.

I mean guys up north know nothing about chivalry. Its all about the little things retards! Would it kill them to let you on the elevator first? To open up a door while your carrying a million packages? (note: a southern man won't let you carry all those packages) But again most importantly, southern men fuck better. Well at least the one this weekend can. Right up there with the sexy brit (sigh, I really hate how I screwed that up) and the frenchie (who is a model - natch) and note, I just named two Europeans - not guys from NY.

Northerners are bad in bed. They are selfish. They think you should just feel lucky your being jackhammered by them (often with a tiny penis.). They have it all wrong. They should feel lucky you're in their bed (or in my world, that they are in your bed - no walks of shame for me.).

Maybe I am generalizing with northerners...maybe not. I haven't hit west coast ass - oh wait I did tiny penis (his nickname is wiener) but that could have been just a one off. Maybe its just the north east.

Who knows and who cares. I got my fix in......did you?

I'm sooooo excited!

I quit my job.

Don't worry, I'm not going to live on welfare. I got a great fucking job, in house. For more money, a better title and plus it was time to move on.

I will not talk shit on where I worked. I loved where I worked, the people, the clients, my bosses. It was a great - fucking fantastic - 6 years. I will miss my peeps so bad, that I almost didn't take the job because of it. But this landed in my lap and I couldn't not say no. So I have pretty much hit the big time and I am fucking deliriously happy.

It's 10 blocks south where I work now so, shorter commute, I can stay at my gym and spin and still hit Friday night happy hour at the crow.

You know what the best thing about quitting is? All the people I don't like - and it's not as many as you think but trust there are a few cunts in my office - I don't have to be nice to. I can basically look at them and say "you know, I don't like you and would really appreciate it if you wouldn't fucking speak to me."

Ooooh I'm gonna love that.

Quote of the day

"It's definitely going to rain"
- Big D.

"How do you know?"
- Mr. Means

"She's (I almost wrote my name again) wearing sneakers."

In my defense, I was only wearing sneakers because I was breaking in new shoes that literally killed my feet and I always have a pair of cons at the office. But yes that was the day there were tornadoes in Brooklyn.

Yes I can make fun of myself

So I write and talk shit about a lot of people and things on this blog, but I can make fun of myself. And prove to everyone that time and time again, I have blonde moments. I had one of these moments Saturday and it's a good thing I kept my blonde thoughts to myself.

I went walking to my neighborhood liquor store to pick up some items for the party on Sunday. As I am walking up the street, at a certain point the street was blocked off. Not the sidewalk just so that no cars can drive up it.

I start thinking to myself "huh, what's that about? why is it closed?" I continue up my path and the whole street is lined with cop cars parked "what's with all the cop cars? What's going on?" I was just about to mosey over to the cops standing around to ask what the hubbub was when I realized what it was about.

I live 5 minutes from ground zero. And Saturday was September 11th. I literally smacked myself in the head (to which everyone around me looked at me like I was a crazy person) and internally said "fucking duh! what are you retarded?"

Could you imagine what would have happened if I actually asked the cops what was going on? Quite the conversation that could have been.

So yep, I'm a dumb blonde. The type that forgets it's 9/11 on 9/11 who also can fall standing up (when sober) and literally walks into walls. But gosh darn it, i'm cute. ha.

Only me.

Now see, the reason why I always have some story to tell is because I can not and will not keep my mouth shut. Nuh-uh not me. Why should I? I kept my mouth shut for 10 years and besides, if I did the world would be a less exciting place (in my opinion mind you) and plus you wouldn't have these fantastic posts to laugh at.

I love Sunday mornings, you sleep in, go to the gym, pick up the paper and its quiet. The city is quiet Sunday mornings, and its nice, because everyone is sleeping in. Except....tourists.

I was under the impression that there would be no more tourists since its September and its back to work and school...but oh no, not in my neighborhood. The tourist population has lessened but there are still many stragglers. And a family of stragglers totally pissed me off and felt my wrath. I gave them true New York. In effect I gave them a story worthy to tell their friends.

So, I slept in a little, worked from home and then was off to spin for 11. Had a great spin, picked up the paper and hopped on the train to go home so that I can get ready for my party. I was in really good spirits considering the weather (spin can do that for you) and am walking down Fulton street and all I see are tourists. Whatever, I put on game face and just start plowing through as I have no patience for people just standing in the middle of the fucking sidewalk. I of course have my headphones on, blasting a new Kayne remix but I have super human hearing (one of two super powers I possess) and was able to hear the following exchange between a woman and her son:

"Watch out Tommy that's a New Yorker, get outta her way."

"Wow do you know she's a New Yorker mom?"

"Easy, look at her she is unhappy."

I could have let that go, but why should I? Who the fuck is she saying I am unhappy? And should this child think his whole life that if you are a New Yorker your unhappy? I think not. Again, yes I could have kept my mouth shut but fuck that, I'm not unhappy. I'm just pissed your in my way fat ass.

And that's exactly what I told her. I whipped around, ripped off my headphones and unleashed a tirade on this woman.

"What the fuck are you talking about? Who the fuck do you think you are? I'm not un-fucking-happy! And how dare you talk some shit like that? Telling your kid being a New Yorker equals unhappiness! I might not be smiling right now, but I'm plenty happy, happier than you are fat ass. And the reason why I look pissed is because your fat ass decided to stop and stand in the middle of the fucking street like a god damned retard! So yea get the fuck out of my way. Oh and Tommy is it?"

"ummm yes ma'am."

"Oh honey, I'm not a ma'am yet, your mother yes, me no. I love your sneakers (he was wearing the cutest plaid converse) and be advised that New Yorkers - this one in particular are very happy. Remember, if you can make it here, you can make it anywhere, and I think when you apply for college you should apply to NYU, or another NYC school, you'll love it here and it'll probably piss your mother off royally."

"NYU, I will remember that! thanks lady! You are nice!"

"Thanks kid." I then turned and look at his mother who was still getting over the foul mouthed tirade I just unleashed on her and said "put that in your pipe and smoke it."

See I'm nice to kids. Its just their idiot parents that annoy the fuck out of me.

Do you know what today is?

It is the Fabulous! Mr. Means Birthday!!!!!

That's right, my bestie/gay boyfriend/confidant was born on this day 40 years ago (and honey he doesn't look a day over 30.). And it has been an exciting 40 years for him. How could it not? He was made to love magic.

And of course we are going to celebrate in true style (true style = debauchery) all day today and half the office will call in sick tomorrow probably because of it.

We will start by pre-gaming it at my place for a Mexican fiesta (why Mexican you ask? well who doesn't like Mexican? and I make killer nachos) to then go on a sunset sail (yes yes we know the weather report but its rain or shine) let's hope no one gets sea sick! And then end at the lovely gay bar - The Monster.

Now the monster is where things will get interesting. Ever been to a gay bar? Well if you want to get shit faced after 2 drinks, then a gay bar is the place for you. You get the heaviest pours known to man. One drink at a gay bar is equal to three at a regular bar. I once ordered a soco on the rocks, and got a tall water glass filled to the rim with 2 ice cubes. Suffice to say I didn't finish that drink, if I did I would have had alcohol poisoning the next day.

But enough of that, today is all about Means this is his special day, a day where everyone must be nice to you, give you presents and say Happy Birthday to you constantly. Let us all raise our drinks in his honor. My baby deserves it.

Here's to another 40 years my love. I am happy I have met you and that I can call you a friend. I don't know if I would have gotten through this past year without you in my corner.

xoxoxoxo

Online Shopping is like Christmas

It truly is. Let me explain shall I? Because every girl out there will understand what I am saying.

So, you are bored at work, or at home and start perusing the interweb. You hit a cute site (like modcloth - natch) and you order some dresses. Then you decide to buy shoes or boots on another site to go with said dresses.

Then you forget about what you ordered.

All of a sudden, a week - week and a half later, you get a package - three actually - and then you remember, YAY! clothes! shoes!!!

Its Christmas!!!!!

Now granted they are not wrapped, and you bought them yourself, but you have forgotten about it all so its like getting presents from Santa!

That's what happened to me today, I got three dresses for fall (and they all fit fabuously!), and two (count them two!) pairs of thigh high boots (that look soooo good on) I was soooooo excited that I started singing Christmas Carols.

Why? I don't know I just did....

Here comes Santa Claus
Here comes Santa Claus
Right down Santa Claus Lane.....

Shall I go on?

I laugh in the face of delivery.

So, I had to go grocery shopping for the partay tomorrow (more on that later) and of course for food for the week (no I don't exist only on cigarettes and soco, thank you very much.). And it wound up being a lot - not money wise bag wise.

So as the kid is checking me out (not in that way people) he asks "are you taking it or is it delivery?" I say "how many bags are we at?" "seven - no eight" is the response. "Ooof, I dunno, ahh I guess delivery? I mean, maybe I carry what I can and the rest..?" "Nah, you can do it, you can carry it all."

I eyed him suspiciously and say "that's because you don't want to have to lug this shit to me on a delivery." "hahahaha, nah you look strong you can do it."

"ummm ok..."

So we loaded me up with all 8 bags, one hooked on each shoulder, three in each hand. He even patiently waited for me to put my sunglasses on.


And you know what? I made it allll the way home without crumbling under the weight in my arms. My biceps are a little throbby right now, but whatevs I didn't drop anything.

So I laugh in the face of delivery. I don't need delivery, I can do it myself. I can carry more than half my body wait in the hot sun for 4 blocks.

Can you?

So, what are you burning this weekend?

A pastor - a real southern inbred redneck (but hey that's just my opinion) named Terry Johns will be burning the Koran, well wait! This just in, maybe maaybe he will burn it. He's been all over the news saying he was going to burn Korans on 9/11 to protest Islamic extremists. Now he states that he is he's praying over whether or not he will still do it.

I assume he is praying to god. You know the big man up above? So if he prays and still does burn it is he going to say that god was ok with it? That god told him too? Do you know what type of holy war this could create? I mean how genius (in some weird sadistic way) would it be if he on Saturday morning said "I prayed and prayed to the lord above and the answer I got is - I can burn this book."

Seriously if he said that I would laugh my ass off. I kinda hope he does just for the backlash.

Islamic extremists, and some regular normal everyday Muslims are threatening to burn the America flag. In protest to his protest. Now you know that is just going to cause some major drama. Mayjah Drama! I mean even people who are against him burning the Koran will get their panties in a bunch over people burning the flag.

Burning a religious tome - kinda OK. Burning an American flag - soooooo not OK.

Now even the General Petraeus is getting in on the action saying that something like this is not going to do the American soldiers in Afghanistan any favors. And he's right, I'm sure if he burns this Koran the soldiers overseas will be plenty busy this weekend.

But in all honesty all this guy wants is media attention, and if the media stopped talking about him, or not be there when he burns it so there is no video it would be the best thing to do. The media is publicizing this to such an extreme that they are to blame as much as this nitwit. I mean this fucktard wasn't even in NY on 9/11. I was! I thought I was going to die! (I truly did) you don't see me burning the Koran. Hell, I'm over 9/11.

But enough of the serious talk, what will you be burning this weekend? I posed this question to the people that I work with and we came up with a few ideas:

- A bible. Specifically little ol' blonde me burning a bible in front of St. Patrick's Cathedral
- A flag - from the commie of the dept.
- My bra (to which I responded - "my bras cost to much, and the burning of bras so ladies could hang loose killed chivalry")
- twigs and sticks from a backyard
- Kid Rock records
- Ankle raping jeans
- Anyone with ironic facial hair
- Crocs (that's all me)
- Mandals (me again)

But the winner of the "what will (or should) you be burning this weekend" discussion is... Drumroll please!

A big fat splif.

Madonna rides the train.....

For the same reason I go to the DMV - to be amongst the little people.

Because what other reason would she have to ride the train? She doesn't need to ride the train she's got more money than god she is either driven or flown to wherever she needs to go.

What is the meaning of this? The only thing I can think of (and I's smart) is that she was having a bad day emotionally and knew if she would get on the train with the "common folk" she would bounce right back and be happy with her life again. I mean hell sometimes I get on the train in a funky mood, look around and think to myself "I guess my life isn't that bad."

Apparently Labor Day is not my holiday

What a great fucking weekend. Let's recap shall we?

First, I do a fantastic thing for myself ending a relationship with a narcissistic bastard. A loooooong lasting booty call over the last year that started off amazing and end off - a dud. However the fucktard just totally drove a knife in my heart in not giving a shit. Case in point when I start the conversation I say:

"Sooooo we have been seeing each other for a year now."

Response:

"It's been a year?"

"Yes fuck you it has and now its done"

"Oh ok."

This is what I get, oh ok. And yes I have been totally bored with this but still, "oh ok?" "Oh O-fucking K?" Come on. But whatever, I'm through with banging boys that remind me of my ex. I mean if I wanted to be humped with nothing in it for me, I would have stayed married.

And then, something happened I can not discuss. But trust, it wasn't my fault, but I had to clean it up. Which probably put me in a pissy mood (along with the first part of this) in my subcon mind for the next one.

Oh yes, we all know this one, the whole "sexy brit" incident? Yes, where in one fell swoop I ruined any possibility for anything in the future. And if you don't know go down a few posts....and now you know. I mean in my defense any one who knows me, knows don't wake me up...seriously don't, a cranky me (oops I just wrote my name) is a force to be reckoned with but le sigh, it was all my fault. But I was cranky!

But let us not forget about the icing on the cake. The phone call at 2am Sunday night, by an ex. Who proceeded to tell me I am a cunt, a whore, a bitch, you name it - he for sure shit said it.

I guess I have no right to be happy.

So I don't know how much farther the rabbit hole I can go. Though it's gotta get better from here right? No matter what, the only time I am leaving the house this week is to go to work and the gym. The worst part about this weekend is that I didn't make spin for 4 days and feel like a fat bastard (get in my belly!) No actually that is not the worst. And no its not an ex going off on me -and no I'm not saying what was the worst - for some reason I was immune to that, but I wasn't immune to the fact that after that phone call I couldn't sleep for 3 hours finally fell asleep at 6 and in affect could not work out this morning.

Fucking men and their shit is totally fucking my shit up. As my mother says, "no wonder there are so many lesbians!"

No I will never go lesbian I like boys too much.

So in summary, next labor day I will not consider it a holiday and will go into work on Monday.

Learn to Anticipate?

I'm sure you have seen this if you are as bored at work as I am today, its a print ad, created by Saatchi & Saatchi France for Courrier International (a Paris-based weekly), that has a tagline stating "learn to anticipate" with planes flying over shorter World Trade towers.

I have a few issues with this, first off i'm kinda ovah the whole 9/11 advertising the week leading up to an anniversary. Can we give it a fucking rest? Can we start just getting through this day nice and calmly? Instead of exploiting it?

Secondly, whats with the whole "learn to anticipate" and shorter buildings? Are we saying that if they were shorter this wouldn't have happened? And how much shorter should they be? Also, should the architects back in 1985 anticipated fucking suicide bombers flying hijacked planes into the building? And the whole shorter buildings aspect? The bombers would not have been able to fly lower and still crash into them? They would in affect miss them? Or would say "eh these buildings are too short to fly into"

And if that was the case would they then i don't know, find another building? Like the Empire State building or The Chrysler?

Fail Sacchi & Sacchi France. Major Fail.

I have absolutely no clothes.

So of course I decided today to reorganize my closet - it was best to stay home and clean them out.

In all honesty I can't find anything in them, so I needed to purge the pieces I don't wear and reorganize so that I can find things properly.

And what did I find? I have no clothes. More specifically no fall clothes. Don't think I wasn't about to run out and shop like nobody's business - basically keep Bloomingdale's in business - in the mood I was in today it would have made me feel better maybe, but I didn't. Shopping to make one feel better is not a wise choice.

It really isn't it. It just makes you spend more than you want, buy things you really will never wear and gives you a higher credit card bill than needed along with separate pieces not outfits. No outfits means you have to go out shopping again which also means spending more money.

You wind up buying cocktail dresses for parties you will never attend or be invited to because they are cute and make you feel pretty so that winds up lifting your spirits.

So, take my advice, when you're in a shit mood because you are an idiot, don't shop. Just stay in and drink. That's probably the best medicine.

YAY!

My mommy says I can go on the roof now. And yes, though I am 32 I do still listen to her. Whatever, if you ever met my mother you would totally understand why. She once threw a man (my father) 10 feet, pushed a refrigerator the length of our driveway to put out for the garbage pick up and can totally kick my ass (and not just because I won't hit her back, I have)

and to answer your question, no she is not an amazon. She is littler than me. And I am 5'3" and 100 pounds.

put that in your pipe and smoke it.

Dear Sexy Brit

Oh kiddies, this one doozy, I totally killed a great booty call last night.

So last night, I finally got to see my sexy brit again. And of course it was amazing as always now I know your asking - "well if it was amazing then why?" No worries kiddies I will explain in full. So we have our fun, enjoy each others company and fall asleep. I was then woken up, i dunno maybe a half hour later? - I wasn't watching the clock - by sexy brit who was leaving because he wanted to go to work today and it was easier for him to go home then to go to work instead of staying over then doing it this morning.

This is a totally justified reason for leaving. I of course ask him to stay so we can in effect have sex again, sleep, wake up this morning, sex again, cuddle and then he can leave to go to work. And he again explained (sweetly) no, yadda, yadda, yadda...And how I take this? Oh in my true bitchy bratty form. I basically responded in the effect of "yea well whatever get out" totally shut down didn't really say goodbye and basically shut the door in his face.

But wait! There's more! Why would I let it end there? Why?! Me? Nooooo lets just show how much of a cunt I can be.

I then proceeded to text him basically in a nut shell calling him an asshole and thanking him - sarcastically mind you - for waking me up to leave that that was fucked up and I would have preferred him to have just left. Oh and not to mention insinuating that he was lying about going to work.

Totally makes sense right? Of course I would have preferred him to have snuck out instead of saying goodbye. Fucking duh.

When I am telling this full story to my mother, at this point she responds, "oh shit."

The response I got was as such and we're going verbatim here:

" Nope. Sorry. Still don't get it at all. So you're suggesting I should have crept out? Ok. That's one of your lessons I won't be taking with me i'm afraid. And are you saying i'm lying about working? Why would I lie? I have a job where I work many long days and weekends. As I said it's my choice to go in. I'm sorry if I upset you but again I have zero clue as to how or why"

To which my mother at this point in the story says "he pretty much told you."

Yes, yes he did and of course in the nicest way possible. So now here's the thing, the reason why I reacted like a crazy bitch is because I like him. Now, I know this is all my fault but can we put some blame on him? I mean come on! I want him to be my boyfriend. Who wouldn't? He's sexy, sweet, charming, great in bed, has a British accent, sends me drunken dirty texts to then apologize for them, reads my blog, thinks (or so he says) I'm sexy, acted like he was really interested in my new shoes, listened to me ramble on about how I'm super upset about my Balenciaga bag that's being repaired, got me to admit I really don't remember meeting him which he found funny, shall I go on? God damn it! he's fucking perfect and I wanted to wake up next to him. So basically I realized at that moment what I already knew that this is just sex and I got hurt and acted like a brat.

So of course I ate shit this morning via text and now via blog post shall we go to the text message? Why the hell not? Verbatim of course its only fair.

"are you lying? I dunno maybe? probably? people lie everyone lies except for me for some odd fucking reason but you probably not."

Yea see here I am still being a brat.

"I'm sure it makes absolutely no sense to you. mainly cuz I reacted (sure overly) and didn't really explain. Yes I rather u crept out instead of waking up asking you to stay and plainly being rejected. whether u had a good reason or not no one likes being told no."

This is better, but there is still the underlying bratty tone.

"but at the end of t he day the truth of it all is - I can't just be sex not with you. even if its really fucking great sex. I guess I wasn't over it. I do like you and I can't be in a situation where I'll be hurt. So i'm sorry I was bitchy you didn't deserve that at all. and there you have an insight into how I react when rejected - like a brat.

I think the last one was pretty good no? I'm honest, I put it all out there. I mean seriously do I have a sign on my forehead that says "are you an asshole? not ready for a relationship? Well then I'm the girl for you!"

I mean I had no business seeing him again. I know this. I asked one time if he wanted to get dinner and he explained that he wanted to stay single and has a strict no dating policy as he is just out of a relationship and keep what we have to booty calls. I then said that I couldn't do that because I liked him and didn't want to get hurt, though totally reserved the right when over him to have him back in my bed. I said I was over it, but I wasn't. And for some reason, thought I could continue being a booty call and kinda wait it out and once he was ready to be in a relationship I could make a play for him in that way.

Boy was I wrong. And I proved myself wrong in the most fantastic way possible - by acting like a crazy bitch. But I can't just shut off any emotion for him, I do truly like him. And god damn it I just totally swung it this weekend to not be able to have sex for a while (cause I killed my second long term booty call on Friday but that I don't really care about the sex isn't good anymore.).

So I have been told in affect by my mother not to leave the house, god knows what damage I could do. She said don't even go on the roof to tan, and if I do don't look at anyone.

So Sexy Brit, I'm sorry. And hope that when you are ready for a relationship you ask me out for dinner or drinks or something.

Fuck. This sucks. I don't like this feeling of being hurt. I'm going back to bed.

Yea it might not be noon

But fuck it I'm drinking. I earned it. It's labor day weekend and I am a laborer.

Wise Words

"I think I put too much vodka in the sangria" - me

"You can never have too much vodka" - My cohort in crime

Just a normal conversation...at work Update!

So, during happy hour lunch today (office closed at one score!) one of the guys in my dept put in his two cents on the "pee conversation."

Jesus I can't believe I am writing about this.

He explained - in the simplest way possible - that there is a switch. Basically when your getting all hot and heavy, the semen switch is on, not the pee switch. So you technically in that moment when all hard and ready to have sex pee. But after sex you have to pee super bad.

That was not news to us, all women know that after sex you must pee immediately after ( Again I really don't understand why I am writing about this) or you risk getting a urinary track infection.

So what I had came up with is true or correct. You pee on the person (while at the same time totally degrading them) before you get hard as this will help get you all hot and bothered and you then have sex in your pee. Because peeing on someone after, really makes no sense.

I guess the point of this post is to say I was right? Its either that or I talk about the Hurricane that's not coming.

Does she live on the equator? Or the 9th level of hell?

Umm....right now its 85 degrees and humid (its 9:45ish). When I took this picture it was - oh I don't know - 95 degrees and humid.

Today was the type of day that the term "back sweat dripping down to my ass" or "It's hot as balls out there" was invented. The moment you stepped a toe outside you started sweating.

But this chick? Apparently she is a little chilly. Let take notes:

- tight ass skinny jeans
- flannel - I repeat - flannel shirt
- closed toe booties
- scarf

A fucking scarf. A fucking scarf. Dude seriously. Today is the type of day that it should be legal to walk around naked. Or in a bathing suit. She is in a train station with a scarf! A SCARF! I can't even begin to comprehend this. Train stations are hotter than the hell on earth it is outside!

I was sweating the moment I stepped outside. If I was wearing that I would have pass the fuck out from heat stroke. There is only 3 reasons I can come up with as to why she is wearing this.

#1 She lives on the equator where its 130 degrees and humid so 95 is a tad chilly to her.
#2 She is a demon from hell and so of course she is a little cold - I mean durrr of course she would be cold if she is from hell.
#3 She fucking retarded.

If this picture was showed on Jeopardy it would go something like this:

Answer: Someone who is fucking retarded.

Jeopardy Question/Answer: Who in their right mind is wearing this shit on a NYC HEATWAVE DAY??

It's the most wonderful time of the year!

Well one of the most, this happens twice a year - the start of a new fashion season! We have two of these wonderful times - beginning of September for the Fall/Winter season and beginning of March for the Spring/Summer.

Now of course my preference is the Spring/Summer season, well duh, I hate the cold. However what I love, love, love! about Fall/Winter are the shoes. Knee high boots, and now this season coming - thigh high boots (annnd I already picked out the ones I am getting this weekend), closed toe pumps and booties.

Sigh, if there is a heaven for me it would be a shoe dept. Particularly the Bloomingdale's shoe dept.

I have already decided what my look for fall is - and hell no I am not telling you! I don't want you copying my look. Its all mine.

But, I will show you my amazing! purchase today. Yes it is the picture up top of the most beautiful shoe I have seen, today.

Now, I went to the doctor and the doctor is on the block of that hideous, disgusting, should be burned to the ground store called crocs. I was on the phone with a friend after said doctor appt and was flipping out about the croc store of course, I then turn the corner looked in a store window and I stopped.

He was mid sentence when I rudely interrupted him to say "Those are the most beautiful shoes in the world." Anyone who knows me personally knows my infatuation with shoes. If I pass a store with a pair of shoes I deem cute, beautiful or amazingly fabulous I will stop and more often than not walk right into the store to try them on.

The price does not matter. Seriously. If I can walk in them - and trust I will walk around in the shoes for about 15 minutes in the store to make sure they are comfy - I buy them.

So back to my acquisition today. Its really hard to tell in the picture, but they are a beautiful bright navy blue, in suede - suede! Who doesn't love suede? Did you see that heel? Its perfect! And the ankle strap? ahhhh sexy shoes.....love, love, love! These shoes will be good with skinny jeans or a skirt, and I already have in my closet 5 outfits that work with them.

And just to go the extra mile I am getting them in black too. They didn't have them at that store but they are having the warehouse ship them and they will call me when they come in. Which will be tomorrow. Yes I am that person. I once tried on a pair of Prada flats at Barneys, needed a half size bigger and had the sales person call Barneys in California since they had them and they Fedexed them to me. Let us not forget the infamous, take that outfit off the mannequin I want to try it on incident (they didn't have my size on the rack) the bitch sales person proceeded to say "its a zero" I stared her down, got the outfit put it on and proceeded to walk out, find her (of course she was helping another customer) and said "yea I will be taking it, but note its little big." Stupid ass she was.

I digress...back to my shoes.

No I am not telling you where I got them, nor how much I spent. Again, I really hate seeing people with my shit. Yes, Yes its mean, but to be fair, if someone asks me I will tell them, I do, I don't lie (I kinda can't its weird) but I will not put them out on blast right now when someone else can run up in there and buy 'em.

Shoes are meant to be discovered by the wearer. Its a relationship. You need to walk by a store and turn your head because you feel...something and that's when you see them. The shoe you need, want, or have always wanted.

Is this bizarre to you? Maybe. But that's my thing, shoes, I'm sure you have your thing. Whether its cardigans, bags, tools, dick - I don't know and I don't care.

All I care about right now is all the new boots and clothes I am going to buy this weekend.

American Express is going to love me by the end of it and I will hate the bill when it comes but god damn it I will look good!

Just a normal conversation...At work.

You know, you spend so much time with the people that you work with that you become (sometimes) closer to them than family - the people that I work with are family. And when you get some cabin fever (especially on a gorgeous day during this week) you wind up having some wacky random conversations. This is a recap of one of these conversations.

"Can you pee when hard?"

This from my cohort in crime and my twin in post production (no names I know Mr. Lawyer)

I didn't even blink to this statement. I stopped what I was doing and thought for a hot second to then respond:

"Well yea, I mean my ex (name redacted) use to say all the time what a pain it would be to pee when he woke up in the middle of the night or the morning, because he would piss all over the place so yes you can pee when you are hard."

She then proceeded to explain, that no the question is in regards to sex, like when a guy wants to pee on you. Because if you are hard, you risk peeing in your own face and that is not the point to peeing during sex, you want to pee on someone - if you are a pee'er. Now, she didn't come up with this one on her own, someone called her and asked her this question.

What ensued was a conversation to try to figure it out. The guys we work with wanted no part of this conversation.

This is what we decided - which I came up with:

"Well, I would guess what would happen is that if you are a pee-er (is that what they are called? I have no idea) You would make out then get semi hard? And then pee on the person you are with to then proceed to fuck (and roll around in your own pee with them [- um gross!]) said person you just peed on as well as degraded because the whole peeing thing got you hard? That's what I would think"

But see this brings on a whole 'nother question. Why would you want to pee on someone? Or more importantly why would you want to be peed on? Either is gross my friends. If someone ever said to me "I want to pee on you" I'd fucking flip out call them every name in the book and throw them out of bed.

Just writing this post makes me have my stank face on. Ick, Ick, Ick, you don't pee on someone. You pee in the toilet. Or if you are super drunk and in a remote area you pop a squat. You do not - I repeat do not - pee on someone.

I'm all about kinky/dirty things in bed, but pee? Get the fuck out of here.

Well wow, I should get home on time more often.

So normally I get home after 8. Spin class people, spin class or more often work. Today though I left the office on time and did not go to the gym. I know, I know what you're thinking - "You didn't go to the gym???" No sadly I didn't. I pinched a nerve in my back, but no worries I will be back on my game tomorrow.

I left the office at 5:30 and got off the train at 5:50 (btw the trains are waaayyyyy crowded during the pm rush hour ick.) and as I am walking home I think, "what am I going to do? I can't start drinking now. What do people do when they get home this early?"

Actually, they get a lot accomplished. I got my laundry done, went food shopping - side note, don't go food shopping while doing a cleanse. It's super hard. I however was able to control myself and just got what I really needed for the rest of the week I then proceeded to make lunch for tomorrow, had dinner (of course a cleanse dinner) caught up with friends on the phone (usually by the time I get home all I want to do is pour myself a drink watch an hour of mindless TV and go to bed) and paid bills.

Damn these 9-5ers got it good. Who fucking knew? Well I guess I did but jesus you get home at 6pm the world is your oyster.

Falls Flat

Sooooooo...its the last week of August and you know what that means..

All the September issues are out! And when I say issues I don't mean your manic / bi polar disorder I mean fall fashion magazines. Duh.

I had an easyish day today so I took the time to flip through the following: Vogue, Elle, W, Details and GQ. And they did not impress. With the exception of one - W. Now I might be biased to W because I know the design director (name dropper fuck yes I am) but it honestly stood out.

Now I know many of you reading this are like "What the fuck do I care about September issues? Why are you writing about this?" Well feel free to skip over this post, its my blog and I will write whatever I want on it. Oh and also, if you don't care, maybe you should, because fashion is important.

Anywhoo moving on.

Vogue of course is over 2/3 of ads. Seriously I don't read Vogue, they rarely have any article I care about, their editorials have become blah and anything within said editorial is mainly couture and unattainable, however they do run the most ads and I like to see all the new ad campaigns.

Elle has a hideous shot of Jennifer Aniston mimicking Barbara Streisand - though I will say the images as well the rest in the inside story are the best ever taken of her I'm not impressed. I mean is she really still that relevant? She hasn't had a good movie since what? The Good Girl? I guess she sells covers? Who knows, I don't see the need to have a celebrity on a fashion magazine cover - unless they are fashion forward which she is not. Also is this issue they of course do the "what to wear at any age" which breaks out what a women should wear in her 20's, 30's, 40's, and on and on. Well for the 30's (which is my age group) I am told to wear camel colors and fur. I repeat camel colors and fur. What the hell? Camel is a hideous color and not flattering to any skin tone. Plus, I think if someone wears camel they should be minimum over 45. Do not even get me started on the fur aspect of this - that's just fucking retarded. Major Fail #1 Elle. Major fail #2 they have the audacity - the audacity! - to say that sky high heels are out. That it is all about a kitten heel this fall. Oh. My. God. I honestly threw the magazine when I read that. Sky high heels are never out. And if they are they certainly are not being replaced by kitten heels. Kitten heels are the most unflattering heel over them all. You might as well wear flats. They are not cute in any sense of the word. They make your legs look like you have cankles. Trust me on this, I see plenty of women in these god forsaken shoes and their legs look fat and ugly. And who the fuck is Elle to decide this anyway? You're no Vogue Elle. You do not determine things like this.

GQ & Details. I always flip through these, though the only magazine I actually read for the articles is Details. The writing is well done, and the articles are funny as fuck. And honestly male models are hot, I have no problem flipping through a men's magazine wistfully daydreaming that one of these gorgeous me would sweep me off my feet.

On to the winner - W. People have said there isn't enough content, but it had the most and the content was quality and interesting. I enjoyed the editorial on London's east enders as well as the fashion editorial that was shot in Red Hook. W gets major props for that. The ad campaigns were the same as seen in Vogue and Elle but the size of W is so big and they use a better paper that it's nice to re-see them in their format. I'm curious though to see what they do in upcoming issues. If they can hold on or if they will fall flat.

Now the ad campaigns. UGH. Maybe I have been doing this too long but this season's ad campaigns do nothing for me. Let's face it, most campaigns are just recycled again and again, you can look at a Gucci campaign and say "That's like the CK campaign from 2006," etc, etc. But there are some good ones....

Dolce & Gabanna men's campaign shot by Steven Klein is fantastic. Clearly the best out there today, followed by the women's campaign with Madonna. Runner up awards go to Tom Ford and Gucci - however Gucci, shot by Mert & Marcus is pretty much a copy blend of an old CK campaign they shot and the 2004 (I think?) Gucci campaign shot by Terry Richardson.

We really need to get some new creative ideas for Spring.

Quote of the day

"Anything that involves a stick is trouble."

- Mr. Means

It's very disappointing

When you are chilling waiting for your lunch at your favorite salad place and a cute guy comes in. You both check eachother out and you think, yum. And then you do the full body scan from head to toe...and you see toes!

Toes damn it! Because they are wearing flip flops! ARGH!

I don't think I have ever broached this subject, my passionate hate - loathing hate - of mandals. Mandals = man sandals I hate them. The only time a man should be wearing flip flops are at the pool or on the beach. They should not - not! under any other circumstance be showing their toes (barefoot inside is ok lets not be too much of a nazi with this.).

Its gross, men's feet are not nice. I don't want to see them on the train, on the street or where I get my fucking food. It makes me gag. Trust me I have been thisclose to going off on a guy for showing his toes in a social setting.

Listen up boys, keep your feet to yourself. Because trust, most chicks are with me on this one. And if they say no they are either lying or are desperate.

Hey Ladies!!

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You can thank me later

Quote of the day

"If I'm hanging out with a guy they are either gay or I am fucking them within 3 hours. I've got plenty of friends"

- Now who do you think said that??

Dear Mother Nature,

Quick question for you.

Why the hell was it fucking freezing today? Hmmmm? Hum hello? Maybe you forgot but its August. Not October. August. It should be hot as fucking balls right now. You know how it has been since - oh I don't know - May!

Listen, you and I usually get along, last summer we totally broke up when you had it rain for 21 days straight (21 fucking days!) I have been very happy this summer so we got back togethet, even though I have been sweating like a maniac, you know I love the summer, the sun, the heat everything about it. Who doesn't? - fucktards that's who - who doesn't love being tan, sitting outside for drinks or lunch, wearing shorts, girls is short dresses, shall I go on?

Now I know I could have worn jeans today but why should I have to?? Its August. AUGUST! I refuse to wear jeans in August. Its dresses or shorts (gotta give em leg no? I work hard on them might as well flaunt em) so of course I was shivering all day today. The no sun I could deal with but the fucking monsoon winds? Really? They were like ice cutting through my veins and I no likey.

Not at all. Now I see that it will be like this for the next few days. Don't fuck up my weekend. There are not many summer weekends left and you know I like to tan. Maybe you didn't get laid, or are PMSing. I don't know and frankly I don't care. Get over it, and do your job properly.

Sincerely yours.

me
x

Are people really that stupid?

Now wait, I know the answer to that question - yes, yes they are. But honestly, I think everyone in my building is fucking retarded. 2 examples for your reading pleasure to explain why....

#1 - Recycling. In the incinerator room (or garbage chute room if you prefer) there are two bins for recycling. One for plastic and one for paper. They are clearly marked. Both on the wall and on the actual bins themselves. So why is it when I go to throw out my plastic bottles or paper products there is plastic in the paper bin and paper in the plastic bin? I mean come the fuck on. Its not that fucking hard. Do you not care? Or are you just fucking stupid or maybe you can't read? Now I feel bad that people are retarded for the guys in my building that have to sort through this shit, so I sometimes fix it all but then I realize - what the fuck? I'm not a garbage man! I don't want to touch other peoples garbage! Hell, I don't even want to touch mine. I just don't get how this is so damn hard. Maybe the people doing this are drunk, or are massively hungover - but that is no excuse. We are trying to save the planet here people, do your part and don't aggravate me with your retardation. My aggravation is bad for the planet.

#2 - Laundry room carts. In my laundry room on the 4th floor (UGH the 4th floor I have to drag my laundry through two elevators and the lobby to get it clean. Whatever - I'm used to have it in my house) there is supposed to be 5 carts. These carts enable you to cart your wet clothes from the washer to the dryer. So I ask - WHY THE HELL ARE THEY NEVER THERE??!! There are signs posted not to take the carts. That they are for the laundry room only, that if you are caught you will be fined, blah blah blah. Obviously the signs aren't doing anything, because every time I do laundry (weekly sometimes 2x a week - I like clean clothes) there are no carts. NONE. So if you take a cart are you to lazy to return it? Are you hanging out in your apartment with a laundry cart? Using it as a snack table perhaps? It makes laundry harder for everyone else. Most certainly me. I sure as shit don't want to lug 30 lbs of wet clothes from a washer to a dryer risking dropping my panties on the dirty floor (so that I have to wash them again) because some lazy fuck doesn't have their own bag or hamper or rolly cart to take their clothes back to their apartment.

so maybe though after writing all of this, its not just stupidity, its rudeness. People are rude, they only care about themselves, and that is just really annoying. Especially on a Monday when I encounter both of these examples.

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I don't like this one bit

So I was out last night with a girlfriend and her friend and of course the conversation starts in the direction of guys and dating (I mean how could it not? It's 3 girls.). They are both on match.com and they are looking through the pictures and yadda, yadda, yadda. I am kinda half paying attention as I am in the process of dirty texting (hey if it ain't dirty it's not worth texting) when my friends friend says something to the affect of:

"I just want to be taken out for dinner and have some nice conversation and then go home. I'm not even going on dates with guys i'm interested in"

I was like "Huh? What do you mean? You're going out on dates with guys you have no intention on being with past one date just to get dinner?"

"Yeah, I want to be taken out for dinner and they pay for it."

"That's fucked up. Seriously. You shouldn't do that, I mean why even bother? Why string them along? Or more importantly why would you want to be on a date with someone you have no romantic interest in?

Again the answer is the same "I want to be taken out for dinner and drinks by a guy."

Now see, I'm not saying how I run through men is right - I do have ADD and like to have fun but I roll with 100% honesty. If I am on a date with a guy within 15 minutes I know if I don't like him and want to continue on with the dating game. I let them know right away. Sometimes if he is cute I'll decide to take him home cause hey - I might not want to go out to dinner with him but he could be really good in bed and who doesn't like a good time? But it is clear to everyone involved what the "relationship" is.

I for damn sure will not let a guy pay for my dinner if I am not into him. I will pay for my half. And if I don't like him that way I certainly don't want to be sitting across from him for the lenght of a dinner!

What really pisses me off with this chicks mentality is that this girl - or type of girl - gives the rest of us a bad name. I have a feeling that there are a lot of girls out there like this that just use a guy or guys to get them to buy them drinks, dinner, take them out, etc with no intention of anything but just using them for everything a boyfriend should do and not reciprocating with what a girlfriend should do.

A guy comes into contact with girls like this and it ruins them on every other girl. So it becomes no drinks, dinner, just trying to get into their beds to use them for sex.

A girl using a guy to take them out is the equivalent to a guy using a girl for sex.

Suffice to say, the statement that she made I didn't like one bit. So that in turn made me not like her. So I proceeded to disagree with everything that came out of her mouth and be as bitchy as I could to her without it being so overtly bitchy and my friend would notice. I of course stayed out as long as socially acceptable and hightailed it out of there as soon as possible.

I can't be around people I don't like, or more importantly the shit that comes out of their mouths.

I told you there would be atleast one.

And when I say one I mean one post about the people at the bar sitting around me.

Four guys in a hipster douche type like band sit down to my left. I assume they are hipsters with the scruffiness, ironic facial hair, talking about how Depeche mode is fucking techno (I almost threw my laptop at that one's head) fedoras, shall I go on?

Anyway they are all ordering food and the one in a red Mr Rodgers sweater with matching Nike air sneakers (DOUCHE!) places his order as such:

"Can I have the artichoke quesadilla with no cheese and a caeser with balsamic dressing on the side."

Say it with me now. WTF?!

So you basically want an artichoke sandwich with no form of condiment on tortillas instead of bread annnndddddd lettuce and croutons with oil and vinegar.

Oh god that's a pussy right there all right. And to make matters worse he said it with such an air of condecension (it's late don't judge my spelling) that I wanted to vomit so imagine my shock and surprise (I really wasn't I figured it was bound to happen) when he slid up next to me and said:

"How's the writing going?"

"It's fantastic."

"What are you writing?"

"A blog where I rip people new assholes, and right now I am writing about that pussy dinner order you placed."

He has yet to say another word to be since.

On my right is a wanna be jersey shore juice head. Who ordered the same quesadilla with cheese. I turn and look at the TV behind his head and he asks me if I like artichokes (is this a pick up line? I'm confused) I respond no (a total lie I love them) to which he tells me if I did I could share his dinner because he can't eat it all.

I don't touch guidos with a 10 foot pole.

Again I say it, FML