Wow

I haven't posted in over two months....hmmmmm....stayed tuned. A shit load is around the corner....xoxo

One day

One day...I'll stop. But not now.....oh no not now....it's too much fun.

I mean come on....I get ready and go to sleep listening to Kid Cudi....

Just a little tid bit from a song that sums my life up.

"people tell me slow my roll i'm screaming out fuck that, i'm gonna do just what I want looking ahead no turning back, if I fall if I die know I lived it to the fullest, if I fall if I die know I lived it missing bullets...."

It's all about the pursuit of happiness... get yours because for damn sure I'm getting mine....

3 guys in one weekend? Sure. That's my life. Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Until someone puts me in my place or makes me stop, I'm a man eater. I make make no apologies, This is my life, I just let you in it.

Buckle up. And stay tuned.....you want to know about this weekend.

Warning

Do not take Niacin. I repeat, DO NOT TAKE NIACIN.

Why you ask? Let me tell you a little story.

A girlfriend of mine gave me a few weeks ago a list of vitamins and supplements to take. You know for your hair, detoxing, skin, blah blah blah. One of the vitamins on that list is Niacin.

On Sunday, I took one of each of the pills I ordered. About, ohhhh an hour and a half later I was in the laundry room doing my laundry when all of a sudden I got really hot. Out of no where, I felt like I was getting a heat rash. I started sweating and felt my face get all weird. I literally threw my clothes in the dryer and high tailed it out of there.

When I got to the elevator I looked in the mirror and my face was covered in sweat and looked red. It was hard to tell since the lighting was low but I could swear my face was swelling.

Oh yea it was indeed fucking swelling.

I got in my apartment, looked in the mirror and starting freaking out. My entire body was red. And I mean RED. Like a fucking lobster. And I was on fire along with being itchy as fuck. Imaging this, you sat in the sun for 5 hours without sunscreen and then proceeded to take a hot shower scrubbing yourself with a brillo pad.

That's exactly how I felt. Fun right?

Let's also not forget my face. It was so swollen I couldn't see my lips. (oh you don't think that is possible? Well it is.)

What do I do? Of course I call my mother. As I am freaking out and saying I need to go to the hospital she is saying this is some chemical warfare / gas leak shit (since 9/11 it's always borderline terrorism with her.).

So she instructs me to put a cold washcloth on my face, take a cold shower then put teabags on my eyes - you know to draw out the chemicals - and call her back in 10 minutes. I do this then lift the tea bags and my vision is blurred. I call her:

"I can't see. My vision is blurred."

"Ok, well did you press down hard on the tea bags over your eyes?"

"What? I dunno! Yes, no, maybe? I'm freaking out here! I have to go to the hospital! I mean all I have had today is a muscle milk (for the protein - natch) and vitamins."

"Wait - vitamins?"

I proceed to list out all the vitamins I took. She immediately gets on the computer and starts searching (side note - no one can search on the internet like my mom.).

"Can you breathe?"

"Yes"

"Is your stomach ok?"

"Yes"

"Ok, stay calm and relax."

"Do you think I can smoke a cigarette? That will calm me down."

"If you can breathe, yes."

Come to find out, I am having an allergic reaction to Niacin - somewhat. Somewhat you ask? Yes somewhat. Because, see, Niacin should make you flush in the skin, but, you really should only take 50mg a day. Me? I took 500mg. (what? thats all they had on GNC)

I now have to go to the pharmacy (thank god it is on the corner of my street) to get Benedryll (I have no idea how to spell that, and I am sooooo over spell check right now.). I of course keep her on the phone with me.

So here I am in Duane Reade ripping open a box of pills before I pay and pound down 3.

It worked. Though I was still a little pink Monday morning. And the weirdest part, this happened to my Aunt a week prior. You would think though this little story of hers would come up during our daily phone call. Would have saved me the trouble.

Umm actually?

Scratch that last post. It was 4 guys in 3 days....

Now, I didn't lie and regret lying to you all - it is because I sent the previous post prior to guy #4 coming over.

It was not planned at all. I swear! Seriously! But I had no choice it was the corn husker. Yes he has a real name but I am certainly not going to use it here. Duh. The corn husker and I started seeing each other literally the Monday after Thanksgiving weekend. He then left for Iowa right before Christmas and then came back for a day to then leave again for Colombia for New Year's.

He came back on Friday. Totally extended his trip. Who wouldn't? If you own your own company you can do things like that. He came over and spent the night.

Now here's the thing. Yea I want the ex to be my boyfriend but I want corn husker to be it more so. He is soooooo much more my type. 6'3" 200lbs built like a linebacker, lond, roman nose.... I mean come on.

And plus I hadn't heard from him for 3 weeks so I wrote him off to focus on the ex. And now I am at a crossroads.....

Who do I focus my attention on more?

Oh who am I kidding, I will give them the same amount of attention until one tells me they want to be my boyfriend. And while I am doing that will proceed to see whats out there that is better.

This is reminding me of a conversation I had last night....more on that later.

Yep. It's confirmed.

I'm a whore. 3 guys 3 days? I think that qualifies.

But don't worry, 2 of which I will bang again. The ex, and the ol' standard. The ex I want to be my boyfriend. The ol' standard I could never be in a relationship with. I have in the past wanted one with him, but he is not the person for me. He is the person I will hold onto until I am forced to let him go.

Even if I went into a relationship with the ex, I am not sure if I would end it with him - the ol' standard that is. It would take a hell of a lot to give him up. Like a proposal. He truly is the best.

Why is he the best you ask?

He is the best for a few reasons....

He is sexy as hell (in my opinion, I really don't care what you think.)
I can have an honest conversation with him without hurting feelings.
He is fucking amazing in bed. No joke.
He expects nothing from me, wants only one thing from me. And its the same thing I want from him. And neither of us judge each other of that fact.

Did I mention he is sexy as hell and amazing in bed? I might have, but I feel the need to reinforce it.

Oh and P.S.

I think this weekend is a weekend of sex with 3 guys in 3 days......bad? No. Well..... Maybe....I think even I am getting tired of my antics.

I banged non Aussie last night. I am having dinner again with the ex tonight - so that will end up in sex (really really good sex fyi) and I am getting my tattoo finished tomorrow.....my tat artist is my weakness...we know this. Plus I told him in a moment of weakness not to book any appts after me so we can....well....you know........

But I really like the ex. I want him to be my Valentine. Sappy? Yes, definitely. But come on...I'm tired of this shit.

The shit of running through men, treating men like they treat women.....

But then again....my life is fun. :)

I kinda have to stop doing things like this....

I have no choice but to blog about last night. Even I deserve to be judged from time to time. And this morning, the first thing that popped into my head the moment I woke up was "I kinda have to stop doing things like this..."

Shall I explain?

So, last night I went out with one of my best friends. We decided to do a bar crawl/manhunt excursion. We went to hudson bar and books, 5th and 9, Pastis, Dos Caminos and then the last bar....I have no idea where or what it was.

Our plan was to go to Meat Packing but we first stopped off at Hudson Bar and Books because we were walking and it was cold. Plus I can smoke there - natch. We had a few drinks, commiserated, caught up then decided to move on because there were no cute boys there. Plus it was too smokey (even for me.). We then hit 5th and 9. That place was kinda dead. I went there once on a Tuesday and it was more happening. It was filled with bridge and tunnel couples - ick. We decided to have one drink and leave for another bar. Our decision was set in stone when the UES chick came in wearing UGHboots and a fur coat. I of course pointed and laughed (which the bartender totally appreciated but the chick not so much.).

Next stop - Pastis. Which I fucking hate. probably because when I worked two blocks away I went there daily for lunch, but, mainly because they don't have southern comfort. But my friend? She loves it. So we go, snag two seats at the bar and have a glass of champagne. Well she drinks mine - I told her to pound them both so we could move on. When we get up a guy comes up to us from the table right next to us and says "where you guys going? We were having a good time looking at your tattoos."

Now for those that don't know me, I sport a good amount of ink. So I get shit like this a lot. Mostly I don't mind unless it's some pudgy guy that's not cute. I say "we're leaving and moving on." To which the two other guys he was with are like "why?! stay! sit with us and have dinner!"

Now see, one guy? He was an Aussie. If you have an accent I'm dead in the water. The other guy was pretty cute as well, but Aussie accent? I'm all over it. We start chatting and I explain I am leaving because they don't have my drink of choice. The cute non Aussie (we will proceed in this story to call him non Aussie as I have no recollection of his name - but wait it gets worse) states that he will go to another bar get a bottle of soco and bring it to Pastis so we can have dinner with them. I say "go right ahead and try, but it ain't gonna happen." He comes back and surprise! no soco. But he was close, the bartender was going to let him have it but the bouncer said no.

I say - to the Aussie "we are going to Dos Caminos, come meet us there after you eat."

We move on to Dos Caminos, I start ordering food (hey I'm like 9 drinks in at this point) and my friend and I make a bet on whether or not the 3 guys will meet us there. I say no she says yes.

Well she won.

They come we have some drinks. Come to find out from the pudgy friend, the Aussie is married with a kid.

Huh? Really? Interesting. This is why its interesting......

Mother fucker tried to kiss me! At Dos Caminos! And normally I would have absolutely no problem making out at a bar, but, could I maybe know you for more than 10 minutes? He would have totally went home with either of us. Hands down I would win - and not because I'm better looking its just because....well....see.....

I'm the girl you fuck, she's the girl you take home to mom. And I swear its because of my tattoos...and plus....well.....I'm a slut muffin. I don't want to meet your mom.

So once I find this info out, Aussie is totesfugs to me. Non Aussie has been talking to me the whole time, so I start giving him more attention. He was in banking, made a shitload of money and is now basically retired living in Switzerland writing a book about some Italian guy. Oh and he's 36.

After I hear this, I gotta be honest - he's even better looking (at the time). What? You wouldn't think so? If you say no - you're lying.

We then move on to another bar - which one? I have no idea. All I know is they were playing salsa music and I was thisclose to getting into a fight. I wound up making out with non Aussie. My friend and the Aussie left and I proceed to take non Aussie home with me.

Well, fucking duh. Of course I take him home with me, I mean this is what I do. Is this shocking to you? I make absolutely no excuses nor do I condone or regret my behavior.

Welllllllll...kinda...hence my morning afterthought of "I kinda have to stop doing things like this..."

I don't know his name. At all. Tim? Tom? Who fucking knows. Who cares? Not me that's for damn sure. But non Aussie knows I am going to Milan next week and wants to meet me there. We woke up at 10 and the fucker didn't leave until noon.

Seriously? Now, I'm trying to be nice. But please could you get the fuck out? Seriously? You live in Switzerland. I even said it. I said the words "we will never see each other again." The response I got was, "Why not? I will meet you in Milan and I come to the states every month and you can spend your weekends in the Alps."

Ummmmmmm.......yeahhhhhh......I don't ski. And I am certainly not flying 8 hours (both ways) to go to the Alps, when I don't ski. For someone that the next morning is too short for me (5'8" people!)

He asked me how to get in touch with me...I gave him a fake email and cell#. What? I don't want to see him again. Especially - and yes this is weird - after he made my bed.

I don't know why that turned me off. Well yes I do. That makes him a nice guy and I don't like nice guys.....I like assholes. I need a guy that is a nice asshole.

Do they make those? Maybe. We will find out tonight.

Pure Genius.

Now this? Pure Genius. Seriously. Click here and enjoy.

You. Are. A. Douche.

The above picture is that of a douche. A female douche, one who thinks we live in a world called "Top Gun" and she is "Maverick."

I got this sweet shot at brunch on Sunday. Brunch in itself was a shit show - more on that later - I mean that's what brunch is, but this one took it to a whole new level.

She was at the restaurant for about ohhhhh 1-1/2 hours, and the entire time she kept her sunglasses on. Now she wasn't blind - there was no cane, seeing eye dog or someone escorting her around. She was moving from the bar to table and reading the menu and eating on her own. So I was able to rule out blindness pretty quickly.

She is also not an actress, or someone that needs to keep her identity a secret like catwoman.

No she is none of these things, she is just a douche. Someone that thinks they are too cool for school, or thinks that they are so beautiful that the moment she takes off her sunglasses all eyes will be on her and she will have to flee for her safety because girls and boys alike would not stop hounding her for her number, autograph or, well whatever. Who cares.

And not to mention the fact that she is a douche she looked like a bitchy douche. She didn't smile once or really speak to the people she was with. Like she was sooooo over brunch.

Please. You know the bitch was massively hungover and didn't have time to put on some eye cream or mascara.

Let this be a lesson to you all. Sunglasses (along with hats) are not meant to be worn inside. You do that you look like an asshole. Especially if you are a girl. I don't know why but it's just more assholey if you are a girl.

I wouldn't stop pointing and laughing (a half a bottle of soco will do that to you) and me and my girl friend kept talking loudly about maverick and iceman which is probably why she didn't smile but do I care? Nope. You walk into a restaurant and don't take off your sunglasses you're totally asking for it.

I tried to get my friend to walk over and act like she was Natalie Portman. To say something to the effect of "I really hope you win at the globes on Sunday." But she wouldn't do it.

Oh well, I think our laughter was enough to get her to eat as quickly as possible and hightail it out of there.

All in a days work.

Oh and P.S. Adrien Brody was at the same restaurant, no sunglasses, no hiding. He was out there for the whole to see...and side note? He's kinda hot. I never thought he was but in person.....I'd hit that in a hot minute.

How many dates can one have in one business week? - Date Three

Ok, so I have recapped date one and two, now we move on to date three....This one again falls under category #3 - It went well, I would do a second date and see where it goes....

I actually arrived on time for this one, it was him that was late. But not by much. 5 minutes actually. Which gave me time to check out the bar which was packed. When he got there we decided to go someplace else - Cowgirl to be exact.

As soon as we walked in I saw two of my friends at the first table. Neither of which I have seen in a couple of weeks. The moment I saw them I thought to myself "I wish I walked in alone as I rather hang out with them instead of being on a date." It was nothing against my date but the fact that I haven't seen them in forever and we needed to catch up.

We wound up sitting with them and went on having drinks and dinner. It was actually good to be on the date with them. They gave him the third degree (as any friend would do in that situation) and he handled it very well. They asked him all the questions I would have and I just sat back and listened to the answers.

My friends left at 11 and we wound up staying for another drink then splitting a cab home - well he actually lives in the UWS so we went to my destination first and he then went all the way home.

He didn't have to work the next day and wanted me to take him back to my place - I gracefully declined. Shocker right? The is not my MO at all. Well its a new year and to get into my pants its gonna take minimum 3 dates. If I just met you that is.

He was a really good kisser (we made out the entire cab ride home) which is promising. We have texted a bit back and forth since and are trying to set a second date...which I will do but I think after date four I am going to put my effort into someone else......

How many dates can one have in one business week? - Date Two

Ok, so if you don't know what this is all about see the post below it'll all make sense then. This is a recap of date #2 which was last night. This one again falls under category #3 - It went well, I would do a second date and see where it goes....

I of course was 10 minutes late (per usual) and met up with bachelor #3 at a bar in the LES. Correction - a wine bar in the LES. As soon as I realized it was a wine bar I was not happy and you know why I wasn't happy.

If you don't (I honestly don't know how you found this blog) it is because I only drink one thing. Say it with me now - Southern Comfort!

But, I didn't say anything, so I ordered a glass of Chardonnay (very waspy I know) and we ordered some tapas (fancy talk for appetizers.). He was very nice, good conversation...were there sparks? A little, we did kiss at the bar and outside before I got in a cab. He was a good kisser, but a biter. Now, I have no problem with biting, but he was a little too rough on my bottom lip, not a fan of that.

I will see him again, for a second date, but not sure if it would go further than that. I mean, he is nice looking but....I dunno I guess I am really picky and want to look at the person I am with and think they are the cutest thing ever (in my opinion, not yours, it's not like I am expecting a Brad Pitt look-a-like though that would be nice) and I don't think he's got it. But I will not pass too much judgment..... yet. Though I will not be asking him for a second date, if he asks me out I will take him up on the offer.

Bachelor #1 is totally ahead in the game vs. bachelor #2. So that means that #2 will be up my ass and I will never hear from #1 again.

So now we are on to #3. Which is tonight. Again, I was going to cancel, as I am so fucking tired it's borderline retarded. So much so I came home to chill instead of going to spin (which btw is making me feel like a 400 lb gorilla) so that I could have some energy tonight.

Bachelor #3 also suggested a wine bar which makes me ask the question - do all men think women just drink fucking wine???? Once I realized it was wine and beer only, I sent a text stating I only drink whiskey and could we change the venue. I was worried I would offend him.

I did not. But I decided if he was, then he wasn't for me. I mean seriously, any guy that can't handle a girl that drinks whiskey is a pussy. Plus someone (a security guard in my building) told me (after I said I asked to change locations) that if I said I wanted to drink vodka in the back of a volkswagon upside down with no socks on he would say "what time should I be there?"

Bachelor #3 changed locations as he doesn't want me to be thirsty (or probably thinks drinking whiskey will get me in his bed...nuh uh) so now we are going to a scottish scotch bar. Hmmmmm.... I hope they have my drink of choice. Wouldn't it be funny if we go there, I don't like anything they have and I ordered wine? hahahahahhhaa - but see that is actually something I would do.

I never said I make sense. I just said I'm not a sociopath.

How many dates can one have in one business week? - Date One

If you're me you can have four - Tuesday - Friday. Monday of course was a day of rest. I have First dates Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and dinner with an....I guess you could say ex? On Friday. Since the first week of 2010 is now being dubbed "date week" I figure I should post about each one.

First dates can be summarized in three ways:

1- OMG i'm obsessed and want to totally see him again, numerous times
2- Never again, I busted out ASAP
3- It went well, I would do a second date and see where it goes.

Date one - Last night (Tuesday people)

This falls under category #3. It went well. There wasn't immediate sparks, but there is definitely potential (for what? who knows? Candy? Sex? Free dinners? Ok the last one I wouldn't do) and I would do a second date and see what goes from there. A summary:

We met up at 8:30 I came directly from spin (fucking duh!) and found him waiting for me at the dive bar of my choice. Now, I always arrive 10 minutes late. Why? I don't really know, I just do. Unless, I have met the person when I am drunk and don't really remember what they look like. I then arrive 10 minutes early, sit at the bar and focus on my IPhone so that they come to me.

We had good conversation over 6 drinks and stayed until last call which was about 1ish. He runs an hedge fund but is not a blue shirt. At all. Quite the opposite in fact, he has more of a surfer personality. Super laid back and hard to read (remember that bit.). I peppered him with questions about hedge funds as I am totally blonde to that whole world and I am proud to say that now I can explain to anyone what a hedge fund is (somewhat, I mean the basic summary, lets be honest, all that shit is greek to me.).

He was impressed with the amount of whiskey I could drink without eating and not getting drunk. I had to inform him numerous times that I am indeed Irish. I mean that counts for something no? After drink 3 he insisted on getting motzerella sticks (new years eve raw food only diet? goodbye!) but it was a good choice.

There were no huge sparky sparks, but he was nice a good conversationalist and was interested in what I do, my life, blah blah blah, all that good shit. But as I said, he was hard to read, so that is probably why I am into the second date.

See, I am the type either you love me or hate me. And with guys I can tell right away what they think of me, within, ohhhhh I would say 10 minutes. This one I had no idea. I guessed at one point (around the 11:30 mark) he was having fun and into me since he didn't try to bolt (i'm pretty perceptive at times) and wanted to have another drink (which became drinks) but still...

You know how sometimes you go out on a date and you don't quite know how to get out of it? No? Shit I do, I have been there a few times - in my early dating days when I didn't want to be mean (hence why I have the emergency phone call back up now) - so I was thinking that maybe this was the case for him.

I digress, kinda... so we leave smoke a cig and need to get cabs. I get the first cab and...wait for it....wait for it.....

I got a kiss on the cheek! The CHEEK!!!!

WTF? The cheek? No no no I don't get the cheek, especially after being on a date for 5 hours.

He texted me when he got home to make sure I got home ok and to apologize for his lameness of not kissing me (points for him.). Now, I get why he didn't , the whole time we were together we were thinking he was getting the flu and he didn't want to recontaminate me (double points) but still, the cheek? That's kinda bizarre to me, but then again, I am a slut muffin.

He has already texted me through out the day, so I will definitely see him again, but then he did something I wasn't that into.

He friend requested me on facebook.

Hmm.....really? I accepted the request (did I mention I want a second date) but when I accepted the request I murmured to myself - "just someone I will have to defriend after I run through them."

Is it bad that I want a second date but already think I will probably ruin it or run through him at some point? Probably, but who knows? Maybe this time it will be different?

Who am I kidding? This is my second job (dating people) I know what will happen like clockwork.

Oh well, on to date two which starts in 1 1/2 hours. I was actually going to cancel because I was so fucking tired this morning but then I remembered... he is cuter then bachelor #1 and is 6 feet. You know how I am with tall cute men. They are my kryptonite. I hope to be home by 11:30 tonight, I need to work out tomorrow morning.

I'll keep you posted. But if he's cute, I'm out till 1am and not working out tomorrow am.

Place your bets.

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?