I was on my way home from work, when I noticed two guys walking towards me. Not just any guys. Priests. Dressed in their long flowing attire.
I was a catholic school girl for the majority of my childhood and the sight of priests wearing silly dresses still makes me laugh a little.
My initial thought was, "Hide the children".
Then as they inched closer, I noticed that one of them was hot. I mean really hot.
As he passed me, he nodded and smiled; I couldn't even look him in the eyes.
I was so ashamed of the fact that I was suddenly envisioning him completely naked.
I watched him walk down the block and I secretly plotted to bring more corruption to the catholic church by considering going to "confession" this Sunday. It's Easter after all.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Really?!
The dude who had the nerve to plan a date a week in advance and then cancel by texting me " Hey I made other dinner plans with someone else. Let's hang out on another day", just walked into my place of business.
It's normal for him to be there, however I felt as though I should have promptly punched him in the face. I didn't....but I should have.
Then... he decided to text me once he was elsewhere within the building. A flirty text!
Oh no sir. This girl is done flirting with you.
...it's been swell.
It's normal for him to be there, however I felt as though I should have promptly punched him in the face. I didn't....but I should have.
Then... he decided to text me once he was elsewhere within the building. A flirty text!
Oh no sir. This girl is done flirting with you.
...it's been swell.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
rubber maid wanted
BOY: "hey by the way, that used condom on the floor, it wasn't mine ... classy touch."
ME: "I am a classy lady"
FML
ME: "I am a classy lady"
FML
Monday, March 29, 2010
Well, I Never!
This week in the dating world….
I’ve been stood up twice.
You heard me... TWICE!
Sonofabitchslutbagwhores (and various other obscenities)
...that is all.
I’ve been stood up twice.
You heard me... TWICE!
Sonofabitchslutbagwhores (and various other obscenities)
...that is all.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
the pacific strikes again
We talked business development and content, distribution chains and overseas vendors, five year plans and dreams of urban gardens, fish farming, sustainability, and a dash of BDSM.
Dinner and a beer went without awkwardness, then a venue change.
Belgians flowed side-by side with big, hoppy, California pine forests. Suddenly there we were, feeling alone in a room full of people, quietly sharing starry eyed gazes. Subtle touches to the knees, elbows and hands turned into hot makeouts against an unsuspecting fence, a sweet walk home and yet another attempt to watch a war flick I downloaded.
Two sessions in a row of first-date-sex with heavy artillery as the soundtrack. sigh.
I have a hunch the problem must be an obvious fact, my living room is also my bedroom. It's tough not to end up naked when your couch is your bed. I should start going home with potentials instead. I'm great at leaving unannounced; it's a talent I should revisit.
Dinner and a beer went without awkwardness, then a venue change.
Belgians flowed side-by side with big, hoppy, California pine forests. Suddenly there we were, feeling alone in a room full of people, quietly sharing starry eyed gazes. Subtle touches to the knees, elbows and hands turned into hot makeouts against an unsuspecting fence, a sweet walk home and yet another attempt to watch a war flick I downloaded.
Two sessions in a row of first-date-sex with heavy artillery as the soundtrack. sigh.
I have a hunch the problem must be an obvious fact, my living room is also my bedroom. It's tough not to end up naked when your couch is your bed. I should start going home with potentials instead. I'm great at leaving unannounced; it's a talent I should revisit.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Stop, Drop, and Roll
So this doesn't involve a hot date however it does involve me trying too hard to impress some dumb boy...so it's going to be told.
A few years back I was having everyone over for my birthday. I found this 1950’s wedding dress and totally “Betsy’s Wedding-ed” the shit out of it...so I was lookin’ good...real good. I bedazzled the apartment and lit a few tea-lights; the place was looking hot to trot. Guests start arriving (including the dude I was trying to seduce) and we were all havin' a swell time. The party's in full force and everyone’s slightly intoxicated. I’m in the middle of what seems to be the funniest story I’ve EVER told and then...
(Sniffs Sniff Sniff) "Do you....do ya smell something? I think I smell something burning!"
Low and behold it turns out to be my ass that has caught a-blaze! I had successfully "backed that thing up" into the flaming candles.
I begin running around the house screaming “I’m on FIRE!!!!” while the rest of the party began yelling “Stop, drop, and roll!!!!”
Do I?.....of course not....Why?....I choose comedy over life; it was much funnier to run around my house shouting, “My biscuits are burning! My biscuits are burning!”
Then out of nowhere I feel this force like no other throw me to the floor! This force turns out to be the foot of my roommate.
Thank God for him.
He kicked my ass. He kicked my ass until the fire was no more.
Without him I would have been just another victim of a candle lit birthday gone horribly wrong. My life could have possibly even ended on that birthday but I was not going down without a laugh.
In the end, I totally smooched the boy I was after. My 1950's dress was smelling like burnt plastic for the rest of the evening and my ruffle butt undies proudly made a guest appearance for all to see.
Funny enough...this was only one of the four times I've accidentally set myself on fire.
A few years back I was having everyone over for my birthday. I found this 1950’s wedding dress and totally “Betsy’s Wedding-ed” the shit out of it...so I was lookin’ good...real good. I bedazzled the apartment and lit a few tea-lights; the place was looking hot to trot. Guests start arriving (including the dude I was trying to seduce) and we were all havin' a swell time. The party's in full force and everyone’s slightly intoxicated. I’m in the middle of what seems to be the funniest story I’ve EVER told and then...
(Sniffs Sniff Sniff) "Do you....do ya smell something? I think I smell something burning!"
Low and behold it turns out to be my ass that has caught a-blaze! I had successfully "backed that thing up" into the flaming candles.
I begin running around the house screaming “I’m on FIRE!!!!” while the rest of the party began yelling “Stop, drop, and roll!!!!”
Do I?.....of course not....Why?....I choose comedy over life; it was much funnier to run around my house shouting, “My biscuits are burning! My biscuits are burning!”
Then out of nowhere I feel this force like no other throw me to the floor! This force turns out to be the foot of my roommate.
Thank God for him.
He kicked my ass. He kicked my ass until the fire was no more.
Without him I would have been just another victim of a candle lit birthday gone horribly wrong. My life could have possibly even ended on that birthday but I was not going down without a laugh.
In the end, I totally smooched the boy I was after. My 1950's dress was smelling like burnt plastic for the rest of the evening and my ruffle butt undies proudly made a guest appearance for all to see.
Funny enough...this was only one of the four times I've accidentally set myself on fire.
Estelle's: The Place Where Everyone Goes Home Happy
For those of you who live in the Chicago area, you may be familiar with a dirty, rotten, booze serving slut by the name of Estelle. Estelle temps the entire community on a nightly basis by offering inexpensive alcohol at an unreasonably late hour. She's the matchmaker of hundreds (possibly thousands) of one night stands. She is a 5am dive bar in the heart of Wicker Park.
I'm not sure if Estelle's is still doing the Tuesday night special that I grew to love anymore, but they use to have $2 beers. Now, I'm normally a southern comfort kinda girl, but a deal is a deal so I would always go out with my friends every Tuesday night, come hell or high water. We would get good and sauced. Never failed.
After months of this same routine, I began noticing how the entire bar seemed to begin making out with each other at around 4am. I thought it was hysterical so I started referring to Estelle's as "the place where everyone goes home happy".
Now don't get me wrong...I was part of that group who would occasionally be smooching face with some random dude, but it wasn't a habit of mine. However, there was one guy who always seem to show up and start a dance party. Mind you, this place is no where to have a dance party; by 2am, you can barely breath, let alone move. Regardless, I was the only one who would ever dance with him, he was super cute albeit totally bat shit crazy. I think he scared people even though I thought he was harmless.
So one night he tells me that he wants me to come home with him and I was I was all about it to have a good old fashion make out session but was hesitant about anything else. We get to his house and I give him a thrill by showing him my ruffle butt undies.
We make out like no one's ever made out before....and then he stops and says....
"I think we should do it."
Neither one of us had a condom handy and that didn't sit well with me. So I tell him that I didn't think it would be wise to do the deed.
Then...he pauses for a moment, kisses me a few more times, and whispers in my ear...
"...but I promise...I'm a good puller outer"
....classy.
I'm not sure if Estelle's is still doing the Tuesday night special that I grew to love anymore, but they use to have $2 beers. Now, I'm normally a southern comfort kinda girl, but a deal is a deal so I would always go out with my friends every Tuesday night, come hell or high water. We would get good and sauced. Never failed.
After months of this same routine, I began noticing how the entire bar seemed to begin making out with each other at around 4am. I thought it was hysterical so I started referring to Estelle's as "the place where everyone goes home happy".
Now don't get me wrong...I was part of that group who would occasionally be smooching face with some random dude, but it wasn't a habit of mine. However, there was one guy who always seem to show up and start a dance party. Mind you, this place is no where to have a dance party; by 2am, you can barely breath, let alone move. Regardless, I was the only one who would ever dance with him, he was super cute albeit totally bat shit crazy. I think he scared people even though I thought he was harmless.
So one night he tells me that he wants me to come home with him and I was I was all about it to have a good old fashion make out session but was hesitant about anything else. We get to his house and I give him a thrill by showing him my ruffle butt undies.
We make out like no one's ever made out before....and then he stops and says....
"I think we should do it."
Neither one of us had a condom handy and that didn't sit well with me. So I tell him that I didn't think it would be wise to do the deed.
Then...he pauses for a moment, kisses me a few more times, and whispers in my ear...
"...but I promise...I'm a good puller outer"
....classy.
15 points for the opposing team
Listen up guys, apparently the "if you have one spontaneous bone in your body, we'll buy each other well shaken cocktails...tonight" works. I can see this as a viable approach outside the realm of internet dating too. Try it out. Let me know how it goes.
That or I'm a just a harlot. Four drinks led to naked coffee in my kitchen this morning, a hangover and very little sleep. I don't think we found each other to be ugly when the sun came up either.
I'll probably see him again, the socially functioning philosophy PhD student who dresses like a a professor. Although, the conversation came with ease, I apparently only need the requisite beard, quirky glasses and cardigan to end up on my hands and knees.
I'm sure he's quite pleased with himself.
That or I'm a just a harlot. Four drinks led to naked coffee in my kitchen this morning, a hangover and very little sleep. I don't think we found each other to be ugly when the sun came up either.
I'll probably see him again, the socially functioning philosophy PhD student who dresses like a a professor. Although, the conversation came with ease, I apparently only need the requisite beard, quirky glasses and cardigan to end up on my hands and knees.
I'm sure he's quite pleased with himself.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
I Blame Aurora
I’m making no attempt to one up anyone’s dramatic first date stories but this one really takes the cake.
I’m sure that we’ve all gone on dates where a date shows up slightly buzzed...possibly stoned...or maybe just a little drunk
...no?
....just me?
....*sigh*...(fuck my life)
Regardless, we can all safely assume that it’s done and over from the moment they walk in the door. Right?! Right.
I was talking to a guy who was total doll-face, a sweet man with beautiful curls, an interest in the arts, love for dogs and a real way with words. Overall...an old soul, like myself. We were off to a swell start!
So he tells me that he's from Aurora, IL.If you've never been, there's no need to even consider going. Known primarily for it's obnoxiously cheesy casino, there is absolutely nothing going on there. So we plan on having a coffee date in the city and he was driving all the way in to come meet me. Lovely!
He gets to my house to pick me up and I'm waiting for him to park the car. I see him walking towards me as I'm waiting anxiously on the sidewalk, trying my best to look like I was too cool for school, when I noticed he was walking very funny. Was this man sauced already?!
He got closer to me and went to hug me. I couldn't smell alcohol, but he was certainly swaying as though he had had some type of booze....or maybe medication.
I asked him if he was taking medicine. He said no.
I asked him if he was feeling alright. He said "yes" with a completely glassed over look on his face. I could tell something was definitely wrong but I had no clue what the problem was.
Then he came out with it....
Dude: If I tell you...you won't want to be my friend anymore.
Me: Well I just met you so it wouldn't be that big of a loss, now would it?
Dude: Yeah it would.
Me: You should probably just tell me. Get it over with.
Dude: I'm a recovering heroine addict and I just relapsed prior to getting out of my car to come meet you.
Me: Seriously?
Dude: Seriously.
Me: ......(silence)........
Dude: I'm just gonna drive home. Sorry I bothered you.
Me: Oh heeeeellllllll no, you're NOT driving home. You can barely keep your eyes open! You think I'm gonna let you get on the road and kill yourself and everyone else?! You may have a fuckin' death wish, but the person driving next to you does NOT.
Dude: I'll just sit in my car for a while then.
Me: Give me your fuckin keys.
Dude: Where are we going?
Me: In my house...where you're going to drink coffee, water, and eat pasta.* You will then sit on my couch until you regain the ability to act like a responsible driver.
(moment of silence)
After a brief second of consideration...I think it's safe to say that I believe that you just topped the charts for WORST dating situation to EVER happen to me. Congratulations....asshole.
*Side note: He did drink my coffee, and tap water; I also made him pasta. After about 5 hours or dozing off in the middle of barely coherent sentences, he finally sobered up enough to leave. Prior to walking out the door he turns to me, looks me in the eyes and says, "So I guess there won't be a second date then, huh?"
.....it's been swell, dude. Now hit the road...and don't call me....ever.
I’m sure that we’ve all gone on dates where a date shows up slightly buzzed...possibly stoned...or maybe just a little drunk
...no?
....just me?
....*sigh*...(fuck my life)
Regardless, we can all safely assume that it’s done and over from the moment they walk in the door. Right?! Right.
I was talking to a guy who was total doll-face, a sweet man with beautiful curls, an interest in the arts, love for dogs and a real way with words. Overall...an old soul, like myself. We were off to a swell start!
So he tells me that he's from Aurora, IL.If you've never been, there's no need to even consider going. Known primarily for it's obnoxiously cheesy casino, there is absolutely nothing going on there. So we plan on having a coffee date in the city and he was driving all the way in to come meet me. Lovely!
He gets to my house to pick me up and I'm waiting for him to park the car. I see him walking towards me as I'm waiting anxiously on the sidewalk, trying my best to look like I was too cool for school, when I noticed he was walking very funny. Was this man sauced already?!
He got closer to me and went to hug me. I couldn't smell alcohol, but he was certainly swaying as though he had had some type of booze....or maybe medication.
I asked him if he was taking medicine. He said no.
I asked him if he was feeling alright. He said "yes" with a completely glassed over look on his face. I could tell something was definitely wrong but I had no clue what the problem was.
Then he came out with it....
Dude: If I tell you...you won't want to be my friend anymore.
Me: Well I just met you so it wouldn't be that big of a loss, now would it?
Dude: Yeah it would.
Me: You should probably just tell me. Get it over with.
Dude: I'm a recovering heroine addict and I just relapsed prior to getting out of my car to come meet you.
Me: Seriously?
Dude: Seriously.
Me: ......(silence)........
Dude: I'm just gonna drive home. Sorry I bothered you.
Me: Oh heeeeellllllll no, you're NOT driving home. You can barely keep your eyes open! You think I'm gonna let you get on the road and kill yourself and everyone else?! You may have a fuckin' death wish, but the person driving next to you does NOT.
Dude: I'll just sit in my car for a while then.
Me: Give me your fuckin keys.
Dude: Where are we going?
Me: In my house...where you're going to drink coffee, water, and eat pasta.* You will then sit on my couch until you regain the ability to act like a responsible driver.
(moment of silence)
After a brief second of consideration...I think it's safe to say that I believe that you just topped the charts for WORST dating situation to EVER happen to me. Congratulations....asshole.
*Side note: He did drink my coffee, and tap water; I also made him pasta. After about 5 hours or dozing off in the middle of barely coherent sentences, he finally sobered up enough to leave. Prior to walking out the door he turns to me, looks me in the eyes and says, "So I guess there won't be a second date then, huh?"
.....it's been swell, dude. Now hit the road...and don't call me....ever.
oh, it's on.
The Dialog takes place within the inbox of an internet dating site.
Dude:
4:27pm
subject: if you have one...
body: spontaneous bone in your body, we'll buy each other well shaken cocktails at either the whistler or the violet hour tonight.
me:
I have a whole bunch of spontaneous bones but damn I'm broke until next week. You're free to buy me drinks if you'd like. Whistler at 8. I'll drink slow. (I haven't even looked at your profile btw).
Dude:
Deal! I'll see you at 8:00
To be continued I suppose.
Dude:
4:27pm
subject: if you have one...
body: spontaneous bone in your body, we'll buy each other well shaken cocktails at either the whistler or the violet hour tonight.
me:
I have a whole bunch of spontaneous bones but damn I'm broke until next week. You're free to buy me drinks if you'd like. Whistler at 8. I'll drink slow. (I haven't even looked at your profile btw).
Dude:
Deal! I'll see you at 8:00
To be continued I suppose.
We're all in Trouble Now.
Well...you've done it. You've stumbled upon a blog of nothing but pure sass. There's no turning back now. You might as well follow us. "Us" being two of the sassiest brazen hussies this side of the Mississippi. That's right....Two.
We've dated. We've loved. Some of us have lost at one time or another.
Well...this blog is intended to tell the tale of dating horrors, joys, and sexual frustrations. I'm sure there are a plethora of other blogs created for the same purpose, however I'm willing to bet good money that they are not nearly as entertaining or as informative as this one is going to be. I don't want to debate this, I'm just saying you may need to shield the eyes of grandparents and small children. We're gonna get dirty to the point of Prince asking us to simmer down.
Now, I find it far easier to write my posts in script form. So I'm going to do just that. So just to get the ball rolling, I'm going to provide you with this little exchange that happened to me the other day.
Enjoy......
Dude: 'member that time you screamed 'John Wayne' while we were having sex?
Me: I did nothing of the sort.
Dude: You totally did.
Me: No. I screamed 'I'm gonna be walkin' like John Wayne for the next week'.
Dude: Well I only heard 'John Wayne'
Me: Awkward.
Dude: Tell me about it.
We've dated. We've loved. Some of us have lost at one time or another.
Well...this blog is intended to tell the tale of dating horrors, joys, and sexual frustrations. I'm sure there are a plethora of other blogs created for the same purpose, however I'm willing to bet good money that they are not nearly as entertaining or as informative as this one is going to be. I don't want to debate this, I'm just saying you may need to shield the eyes of grandparents and small children. We're gonna get dirty to the point of Prince asking us to simmer down.
Now, I find it far easier to write my posts in script form. So I'm going to do just that. So just to get the ball rolling, I'm going to provide you with this little exchange that happened to me the other day.
Enjoy......
Dude: 'member that time you screamed 'John Wayne' while we were having sex?
Me: I did nothing of the sort.
Dude: You totally did.
Me: No. I screamed 'I'm gonna be walkin' like John Wayne for the next week'.
Dude: Well I only heard 'John Wayne'
Me: Awkward.
Dude: Tell me about it.
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