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.