Tuesday, November 24, 2009

RTT - Levi's Penis and Non-Perky Nipples

I have never seen "When Harry Met Sally". I know, I know. It's tragic. The one non-porn movie featuring a public orgasm and I've never seen it.

All this fuss about Levi Johnson posing for Playgirl and he's not going to do a full frontal. I bet he's embarrassed because he has a limp noodle. Come on Levi, man up! Let us see your thang.

**Note on above**Just so you know, I really don't care about seeing Levi's doodle and I wouldn't spend the money on the magazine. I just love me some scandal, ya know?

I forgot to tell you all that I posed nude for for Sarah Holls (famous artist/friend) figure drawing class. 13 people painted me as I stood naked in the center of the room on a platform. It was an amazing experience. I felt like some kind of goddess being worshiped. Modeling is hard work. I had to do three 20 minute sittings with a 10 minute break in between. 5 minutes into the pose and my hands and feet were falling asleep. I was also embarrassed because my nipples wouldn't cooperate. My Ta-Ta's may be boring, but I have adorable nipples. Normally, they perk right up. But, that night they decided to be dull and flat. I felt it would have been in poor taste to say, "Hang on guys. Let me pinch these up for you".

Sarah is just finishing up the paintings she did of me. One of them is so beautiful it brings tears to my eyes. Now, if someone has an extra $2000 and wants to buy it for me for Christmas, I'll be your slave. I got even more validation when she asked me if I could model for her again. She wants more paintings. It's my butt. I have the bootie everyone wants to paint.

I believe I am the only person in the world who hasn't seen/read "Twilight" or "New Moon". Seriously, I just don't have the interest. I also think Rob Pattinson is creepy and he always looks hungover and stoned. (He probably is) He also looks like he might be kinda smelly. You know how some guys just look stinky. Well, to me he looks like he could be malodorous. Something akin to unwashed, sweaty man. All these girls keeping begging him to bite them. Um...Ewww.

As if getting in shape and oogling men wasn't a good enough reason to go to the gym. The National Guard, Army, Navy and Marine recruiting offices have leased space next to my gym. Sometimes the guys play football in the parking lot when they're bored.....in their fatigues. I have a serious problem with men in uniform. The problem is: I wish to mount them.

I hate buying tampons. I always buy a few items that I don't necessarily need because I feel they take the focus off the little box sitting on the cashiers belt screaming "Hey, look at her!! She's on the rag! She's moody, homicidal and bloated. Irritate her, please!!! SHE HAS HER P-E-R-I-O-D!!!!"

Speaking of periods, Dollface and I spend so much time together (we work out at the gym 6 days a week) that our periods have synced up. I'm sure this will make for an extra intense Combat class this week. Nothing like having two crazy hormonal women punching, kicking and screaming.

That's a wrap, lovers. Stay loose.

Friday, November 20, 2009

Mess With Me And Karma Will Bitch Slap You and Make You Fat

I try not to revel in someone elses misery. Sure, I got excited when Jessica Simpson divorced Nick and then proceeded to get fat, make poor fashion choices and date losers. I laughed when Paris Hilton went to jail and even followed the story hour by hour on TMZ.com. But, celebrities are idiots and I feel most of them deserve what they get. If you make a bazillion dollars and drive drunk instead of paying a $15 cab fare or calling one of your seven assistants, you should spend a few weeks in jail in order to embrace reality. But when someone I truely hate gets their just desserts, I roll in the stink for as long as I can.

In the beginning, TH and I had a......hmmmmm, how can I put this delicately.............a tumultuously, stressful relationship. His ex girlfriend just wasn't taking the hint. She would call him excessively, write him notes and show up at bars where she knew he and I would be. In true guy fashion, TH would allow this behavior saying he wanted to try and be friends with her. (READ: He's a big pansy) I wanted him so bad, I swallowed my anger towards the situation and dealt with it the best I could. But soon, things began to get vicious. I came out of my apartment one morning to find two flat tires on my car. I later learned one of them had been slashed. Another morning, I found "He's Mine" written on the rear window in some sort of cleaning fluid. Prank calls became a nightly routine and I had to change my phone number 4 times. TH was convinced all of this had to be the work of someone else. His sweet EX would never do this sort of thing. We fought constantly about and I think I broke up with him 6 or 7 times in 6 months. Finally, his Mom suggested he and I go to couples counseling. Meanwhile, EX had found herself a new man (victim). A gullible 21 year old guy. She was 31 and desperate to get married.

Marry she did and a bit while later popped out a baby. Finally, she was out of our lives. I still harbored resentment and loathed her. Okay, I lied. I damned her to hell and hoped she burned. She is a horrible, evil, soulless cunt.

The years have flown by, TH and I are tucked snugly in martial bliss and the evil, soulless cunt is totally out of the picture. I do a little, light virtual stalking now and then to keep tabs on her. I make no excuses for my behavior. I have a vagina and with it comes psychotic girl behavior. I virtually stalk people I don't like. Get over it. It's my thing.

Last Saturday I was on a girl date with Dollface and we started the popular game of Ex-girlfriend Bashing. She told me about her problems and I sympathized. Next it was my turn. I started in on a few tidbits and Dollface looked at me and gasped:

"Oh My God! Is that Evil Soulless Cunt who works at No Name Construction Company On Cape Cod?" she said.

I gave her the hairy eyeball and said, "Yessssssss. Why?" What I was really thinking was, "Please God. Don't let them be friends. I like Dollface and don't want to hate her for a petty reason like being friends with Evil Soulless Cunt"

"I know her from Useless Business Group That Meets Way To Early In The Morning. I got her the job at No Name Construction Company On Cape Cod." she said.

This was not looking good for me. I had finally found a really cool girl to hang with and she might be friends with Evil Soulless Cunt. Why does God hate me?

I sighed and meekly said, "Do you guys know each other well?"

"No, not really. I haven't seen her for over a year. We didn't hang out or anything. Just business stuff."

I was so excited, I was doing back handsprings in my head. Not only was Dollface a cool chick, she had the right mind to stay away from pure evil. Even better, we could still be friends. Then, she shocked me so much with her next bit of gossip that I nearly drove off the road.

"You know she's getting a divorce, right? It's a nasty one, too"

Hallelujah. Hallelujah. HALLELUJAH! HALLELUJAH! HALLEEEEEEEE LUUUUUUUU JAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!! God loves me again. Evil Soulless Cunt was getting a divorce from her boy toy. Could life be any better?

"Oh, and I forgot to tell you." Dollface said. "She looks terrible. She's fatter than she's ever been and she smokes so much her finger tips and nails are all yellow."

Divorce, obesity, charred lungs and body nastiness. I have died and gone to a heaven. Well, it looks like heaven even though there isn't a naked VinDiesel massaging my toes. The last time I saw Evil Soulless Cunt she had the size and body shape of Jabba the Hut. My imagination was working overload as I pictured a giant, neckless blob with yellow hands and breath so stinky it wilts plants as she walked by.

Some of you must think I'm a terrible for enjoying someones misery. But, I'm in the mindset of what goes around comes around. What ever you send out comes back to you times 3. Karma's a real bitch if you don't treat her nicely. She'll kick your ass all over town and try not to get any on her shoes.

So be nice to me, okay? I don't want to send Karma after you. She's a feisty one and loves me long time. It may take her a few years, but she'll get ya.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

RTT - Wax, Lap Dances and Urine Stains.

I know I've been terrible about posting to my blog and reading blogs lately. I hope to get back into the swing of things next week. Some time it feels like everyone needs my attention lately. I'm just so popular.

Can everyone agree with me Lindsey Lohan needs help. The girl is a walking time bomb. It's time we staged an intervention. Who's with me?

In the past year, I have embraced technology and given up my handwritten datebook/phonebook for my Crackberry. One problem - when the battery dies (this happens at least twice a week) and I don't have a charger handy, I have no idea where I'm suppose to be and I'm unable to contact anyone because their phone number is stuck in the dead Crackberry.

One of the hottest new toys for the holidays is the Crayola Crayon Maker. Who was the genius that thought this up? I can already see the lawsuits. Do you really want your children melting wax? What were they thinking? Although, I remember doing this as a kid with a Bic lighter. I also ruined one of my mothers saucepans trying to melt them over the stove.

Today is Fancy Pant's birthday. I made the guys sing Happy Birthday as I sashayed into the weekly staff meeting with a plate of cupcakes. Then I proceed to sit on his lap during the song. I fear I may have set a precedent and will have to perform this show for others on their birthday.

If I'm sitting at my desk and one of the guys enters my office, I'm just about eye level with their waist. Of course, my eyes immediately stray to the crotch area. I don't linger, I just glance. Lately, I have noticed a few light, circular marks on their pants around said area. It only took me a few minutes to realize what it was. Apparently, my guys are really busy. They have become one shake men.....too busy for the follow up jingle. Of course, I had to comment. It was too fabulous and gross not too. I don't think anyone else would have noticed. But, I'm a crotch watcher.

You know how I use to complain about my lack of female friends? Well, I've got a few now. Can I just tell you ---- WOMEN ARE CRAZY!!! Why do they call you all the time? What's with all the problems? Why do we have to go over the problems again and again and AGAIN! I'm exhausted. But, I love them. But, I'm still exhausted.

I friended my Dad on Facebook. If you and I are friends, please say something provocative and scandleous on my Wall. I want to torment him. He loves me to pieces but just doesn't understand me.

Speaking of Facebook, what's with all the crazy games like Farmville. People keep trying to give me sheep and turtles. Or they tell me they found a lost cow somewhere. I don't get it.

That's a wrap lovers!

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

RTT - I Have No Title For This One

Some of you were very curious about TH reaction to my day of nude posing. Truthfully, he barely batted an eye. When I called him to say I was on my way home and I'd just been naked for 2 hours in front of 2 women and my nude body was painted on canvas, all he was concerned with was what I was bringing home for dinner. (this was after a few cracks about girl on girl action. I swear, the man is dying for me to be a lesbian) Sorry to burst your bubble. But, seriously....the man lives with me. Do you really think anything surprises him anymore?
I'm sorry to be a traitor to my sex and enrage feminists everywhere, but vagina's are really ugly looking. Sorry ladies, but a full frontage close up of the Va Jay Jay is gnarly. I thought it would be fun to take a sexy picture with my phone and send it to TH as a kind of "look what you're gonna get when you get home". After much twisting, jockeying and total frustration in the ladies room stall, I managed to get a decent shot. I took one look and decided if I really did want to get laid that night, I'd better erase the picture and pretend it never happened.

I'm not sure if you care, but I'm posing nude again this Saturday. Apparently, my butt is really really cute and needs to be painted some more.

If Partner #3 calls my office and I'm feeling sassy and snarky, I'll answer the phone "Yes, Your Highness?" or "How May I Help You, Your Holiness" or the ever popular "What do you want now?" So when he called me the other day, I answered "Good Morning, Your Lordship. How may I serve thee today?" There was a pause on the other end and he said "Um, I have (insert name of major Big Shot at a huge corporation) on the phone with me and we're conferencing you in for a phone meeting". Thankfully, Mr. Big Shot had a sense of humor and said, "WOW! I wish I could get my assistant to address me that way".

I have just learned that my inlaws, my brother in-law and sister in-law are all coming for Thanksgiving.....again. If any of you Facebook stalkers were thinking about kidnapping me, now is a perfect time.

What does one do to get an entourage? I feel I should have one.

Monday, November 9, 2009

Move Over Mona Lisa. My Body's For Sale.

All my life, I've dreamt of having classy nude photos taken. In 11th grade, a bunch of us got together at the local state park and my friend Jonathan took semi-nude photos of us in our mothers (borrowed) lingerie and bikinis. We thought we were Playboy bunny material. Apparently, my friend Andy got a hold of the camera too and I was surprised to find a photo of him with a ginormous boner as I was flipping thru our sex kitten poses. I wonder if I still have those photos?? But, I digress....

I did Glamour Shots when I was 20. I laughed my ass off when I got the photos back. My "sexy pout" looked ridiculous and my "bedroom eyes" made me look like a stoner who'd just come off a weekend bender. It became clear to me, I was not photogenic. I'm the kind of person who can take an excellent "grab the person next to me's boobs and stick my tongue out" shot. But I will never make the cover of Cosmo.

Living on Cape Cod surrounds you with artists. They're everywhere. You cannot drive a 1/4 mile without passing a gallery. The gallery may be a tiny house or a barn, but the artist in residence may be quite famous and has done shows all over the country. The fabulous artist Sarah Holl (http://www.sarahholl.com/) is in my yoga class and has also become a great friend. She is bohemian chic with a heart of pure gold. Her gallery and home make me green with envy. She's one of those people who buy everything at yard sales and can make a room look like is just danced off the pages of a magazine. I sat down in a chair the other day and said "This is awesome. Where did you get it". "Oh, I got it for $5 at an auction", she said. In her house, it looks like a classic antique.

Imagine my surprise, when she approached me last March (before we became friends) and said "Would you consider posing for me sometime?"

Duh? Pose? ME????? An artist (an uber fabulous one at that) wants to paint me???

After I picked my jaw up off the floor and rolled up my tongue, I said, "Sure!".

"You'll get naked, right" she said.

Naked??? Hmmmmm. The thought rolled around in my head. This wasn't fooling around in high school or posing for silly photos at a hair salon. This was the real thing. This was a real painting. This painting would be sold in a gallery. THIS PAINTING WOULD BE HANGING ON SOME STRANGERS WALL!!! Now, that was something! Then, the thought hit me. I was really going to do this. I would be naked in front of a person. A person who sees naked bodies all the time and judges them for their beauty. I don't even like getting undressed in front of women at the gym. Hell, I don't even get naked in front of my mother!!

My desire to do something incredible battled with my horribly low self-esteem. Sarah's paintings feature beautiful bodies with full breasts and gorgeous curves. My body was muscular with tiny ta-ta's. What if I took my clothes off and she didn't get what she'd hoped was under my yoga clothes? What if she was disappointed?

On Saturday, I tucked what little self-esteem I have under my belt and took it all off. For two hours and four paintings, I was in my birthday suit. Dollface even came over to hang out and watch me break my nakedness virginity. I was totally naked in front of 2 women and I didn't care.

Here I am, in all my glory.

She made me look beautiful. Of course, after I said that, she gathered up her tiny, 5 foot frame and furiously shouted at me "Will you SHUT UP! You are beautiful" She likes my bum. Apparently, I have a very cute bottom.

The paintings aren't finished yet. Although, I don't know how she could make it any better. The other 3 have more boob and one is a full frontal. Don't even ask. I will not post them. I'm still trying to get use to the idea of being immortalize......naked.......on canvas.

I'm very proud of myself, I'm gloating a bit and feeling a little giddy at the same time. I keep looking at the picture and thinking "Holy shit! I'm naked!!" I wonder. Would it be inappropriate for me to make this my office computer screen saver and wallpaper? I've already put it on my phone. I just can't stop looking at myself naked.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

RTT - Major Douchebags, Hippos and Women Wood

I'm in love with this lunch place in Chatham, MA called "The Corner Store". They make the most fantabulous burritos and sandwiches on the entire planet. If you are ever in the area, call me and I will buy you one. It's like sex wrapped in a flour tortilla covered in romance. I was telling a friend about it and he said he would never eat there because one of the owners was gay. After mentally crossing him off my friend list and silently calling him a fucking, small minded homophobe, I asked "Why can't you eat there. Are you afraid the food is going make you gay?" He had no answer to this. The reason is - he's a major douchebag.

I have a new annoying habit. For some reason, I am now leaving the house without putting on deodorant. It is a mental block I cannot get past. I don't know how it's been removed from my morning routine. I get out of the shower, dry off, put on body lotion, put on face lotion and then I'm suppose to put on deodorant. But, I forget the step and go on with the rest of my morning routine. It is only when I'm driving to the office that I realize I've forgotten the pit stick. I've now started leaving deodorant everywhere - in the car, in my desk and an extra in my gym bag.

I hate when guys want you to say their name when you're about to cum. You're building up a good orgasm, you give the "I'm cumming" alert and just as you reach the top they say "Say my name, baby. Say my name!". Well, that just distracts me. I was picturing a shirtless Jake Gyllenhall and your face has popped into the mess.

How do you tell someone they look great if they've lost tons of weight. If you say, "Wow, you look fabulous" it's just like saying "Wow, you're no longer a hippo". But, if you don't say anything, you're the asshole who didn't notice. I see no way to win on this one. It's a lose lose situation.
In case you're wondering, I still hate Megan Fox and Leann Rimes. I have also added Faith Hill and Teri Hatcher to the list. Both of those bitches bug me.

I've found out that Oprah and I could totally hang! She loves corndogs too! Check out the video. She doesn't get nearly as excited as I do, but it's close.

You know how guys get a boner when they're horny or they see a naked chick...or the wind blows. What happens to women? We get nothing. Okay, maybe we get a tingle or two. But, we really got the short end of the stick on that one. Guys get this fabulous wood and we get nothing. I'm starting a petition. We women need our own wood.

Why do my friends and my mother call me during the day on my cell phone and expect me to chat with them. I use to answer because I thought it was an important call. Don't they realize I'm working? Hello Mcfly!
That's a wrap, lovers! Keep your panties off!