Category: blog

My grandpa loved cracking nuts. There wasn’t a time that I visited him when he didn’t have a bowl of nuts nearby. One of his favorite pastimes was cracking nuts and watching television while sitting in his favorite chair.

 

It’s been years since I’ve seen him but as I sit here in my favorite chair, snacking on nuts – wishing I had a nutcracker – and watching television, I can’t help but think of him.

 

Not one to watch television very often, I clicked on several channels and realized I didn’t have them – just like back in the day when the rotary dial-tune TV detailed channels that only showed me static. After sadly learning I couldn’t watch shows as basic as ‘Chelsea Lately‘ and ‘Storage Wars,’ I settled for ‘Family Feud.’
I watched a few rounds and was feeling pretty good about myself until the ads came on and one of them was for speed catheters. I know enough about marketing to know these media buys were purchased specific to a certain target audience – older women with incontinence who watch game shows late at night.

 

Really? You couldn’t run a beer ad where all of the people are laughing while lounging on the beach enjoying their beverage without worrying about where the bathrooms might be located because they didn’t bring their catheter?

 

Unbelievable. Oh well. I’m comfortable with my life situation. My dickeys have been shipped by Carol Wright gifts and my Hillary Clinton Nutcracker should arrive around the same time. I’d love to share more, but I just saw the catheter ad so they most likely won’t be here for another week or so.

Several nights ago Sleepless and I dined with Ice Cream Man at one of our favorite eateries. After much consumption, she and I promised to return today for more wetting of our pallets – news that was pleasing to our waiter’s parts (ears and stuff).

 

She and I arrived and were seated at the table next to the table we had eaten at during our last visit. We thought for sure this would result in us getting the same server. Not so, and this proved to be problematic for him – he was quite jealous of the other server. As we teased our new server, who had previously flashed us his muscular calves, it quickly became clear he didn’t remember us. “Sorry, I don’t recognize you in the light,” he told us.  “Don’t worry, you’re not the first person to tell us that,” Sleepless replied.

 

We ordered our meals and, due to the fact that it was Mardi Gras, also ordered a drink. In an attempt to make up for not remembering us, he did what other men do – brought us really strong drinks. “I put extra gin in there. I want to get you girls frisky,” he said and then walked away, with his muscular calves, blushing.

 

He returned a wee bit later and asked if we’d like another drink. “Yes, but I have to wait for someone to leave,” Sleepless told him. “Her sponsor is here,” I added. “I understand,” he said. Like a good enabler, I mean waiter, he brought over two drinks and hid them behind the menu.

 

I took a sip of the second drink and told Sleepless I wasn’t sure I could taste the gin. “I can totally smoke, taste the gin. I was looking at two things,” she told me. Uh huh. The waiter returned with a spoonful of espresso whipped cream for us to taste before deciding on a dessert. “I brought this because I want to watch,” he told us. He did and then said, “You girls need to come here every Tuesday. You are bad. I like you.”

 

As we were finishing our drinks, he returned to the table, quickly handed each of us a pack of sugar, aptly labeled, “SUGAR,” and said, “I think you dropped your name tags.”

 

I’m not sure what I’m giving up for lent, but I know I’m keeping this server!

The furniture store, where I occasionally grace employees and customers with my presence, always seems to provide me an interesting experience. I believe this is primarily because of it’s customer base –  which consists of a lot of ‘traditional,’ older men.

 

While cashiering, one of the male customers approached me and said, “Hello pretty lady, they told me you’d help me pay my bill.” I’m not sure who ‘they’ were, I never am, but I put on my best customer service front and stated I would be happy to help him with the process.

 

As I was processing the transaction, he continued to wink, smile, do the occasional cocky head tilt, and provided commentary. When I completed the transaction, I handed him the receipt and he said, “It’s true what they said, you’re easy, but you’re not cheap.” More winks, cocky head tilts and smiles. “Yes, what they said is true. Have a nice day,” I replied while doing my best smile and look pretty…..easy.

 

 

That’s Not Chinese, Mi Amiga and I were in the mood for Indian food so we drove to a downtown restaurant. As we drove around for parking we noticed a woman leaving the restaurant and hopping in the passenger side of a vehicle that was parked right in front of the restaurant. We turned on the signal and waited…and waited. “Do you think she’s really leaving?” That’s Not Chinese asked. “She is in the passenger seat and just ate Indian food, maybe her boyfriend or husband is using the bathroom,” Mi Amiga suggested. “Go check,” That’s Not Chinese told me. I approached her window, knocked, and asked if we were waiting in vain – we wanted none of that.

 

She confirmed what Mi Amiga suggested and a few minutes later we had prime parking. We were quickly seated next to a cute, young couple who were at a table with settings for four. Instead of sitting across from each other, they were sitting next to each other. “That is D-Dog’s pet peeve,” I advised Mi Amiga and That’s Not Chinese. “I can’t stand when couples sit like that,” That’s Not Chinese said. “Me neither, but it’s European custom. I went out with an Italian once and he never asked me out again. I think it’s because I wouldn’t sit next to him,” Mi Amiga told us. “Ridiculous. It strains your neck,” That’s Not Chinese added. All of us were into none of that.

 

After a lovely dining experience we grabbed our takeout boxes and returned to That’s Not Chinese’s house. It was quickly determined that they would be cleaning and packing, thus, I would be leaving – when it comes to cleaning, I want none of that. As I was giving hugs goodbye, I dropped my takeout box, which opened as soon as it hit the floor. Although my Aloo Tama Bodi stayed inside the box, my naan hit the floor. That’s Not Chinese quickly picked it up and put it back in the box, atop my Aloo Tama Badi. “I’m sure that has cat hair all over it,” I stated. By the looks on their faces, they felt the same way. As much as I love leftovers, I knew I would not be having naan of that.

 

 

February 18 is National Drink Wine Day. For me, it is a lot like VD, in that my employer doesn’t recognize the significance of the day. This year, S-Unit asked me if VD was a paid holiday. “No, we have to work. The good news is we all arrived at work to find topical creams at our desk,” I told her.

 

With National Drink Wine Day falling on a Saturday this year, I didn’t have to go to the office. I did, however, work at the retail store. “Do you get holiday pay?” Sleepless asked. No holiday pay, just Drink Wine delay. As soon as my shift ended, I hustled home to begin the festivities. Sleepless came well prepared with Pinot Grigio and Pink Zinfandel and I had a magnum of low-end fortified red on hand for those (Dr. BJ and Passed The Sniff Test) who wanted something of a darker blend.

 

Wine has been around forever. The oldest bottle is currently on display at Historisches Museum der Pfalz, in Germany, and is believed to have been made anywhere between 325 and 350 AD. Many have discussed this bottle and whether or not it should be opened and tasted. Wine professor Monika Christmann, from Geisenheim Research Centre, believes “…it would not bring joy to the palate.” Low-end fortified wines often have this some result. That said, after watching a couple Riunite and Ripple commercials, I would love a little something on ice that tastes so fine and winks back at me (I know, I can’t wink, but you know what I mean) – especially today.

 

After a long day at work, I met up with Sleepless and Progressive for movie Friday. As was expected, they had my drink ready.

 

Watching movies with me is not good if you actually want to watch the movie. I’m in it for the background noise. So, while Progressive was providing Sleepless loads of flood therapy (sans copay), she and I were chatting. In the midst of the conversation, she told us, “I’ve found a new game I can play all by myself.” Progressive and I advised her we’ve been playing that game for some time. “We call it masturbation,” said Progressive.

 

This was a good cue to go, so Sleepless and I made our way. En route to Ice Cream Man’s house we saw a fire engine. More than us seeing them, they saw us – they even braked in an attempt for us to catch up. Little did they know we’re not interested in that kind of hose.

 

When we arrived at Ice Cream Man’s place he welcomed us and found a gift at his door: The Titan. If you’re not familiar with The Titan, well, you’re probably playing Scramble.

 

“Did you see what is in this package?” Ice Cream Man asked us. “No,” we replied. “The Titan. It’s covered by Medicaid. Nobody knows I own this unit.” He then added, “We don’t cover those. We cover penis pumps. Can I get you drink?” He moved The Titan, grabbed a glass of water, from which we had all been drinking, and said, “I figure you’ve touched my penile pump, we can share water.”

 

From now on, I’m praying to Ice Cream Man….or Scramble.

 

Sleepless has been on a bit of a kick lately, where she takes note of one-liners and then posts them on her facebook page – completely out of context and leaving others wanting more.

 

The other day I was chatting with her about one of my favorite drinks, bubble tea. As I continued to go on about the tea and the most important part, boba balls, she informed me she has never had bubble tea.

 

Remembering her facial expression when she had cranberries, and knowing not everyone is a fan of boba balls, I wanted to be with her for her first tea, to see how she’d respond. “Don’t ever have one without me. I want to watch you swallow.” As soon as it came out of my mouth I realized it was totally fünked up. If Tobias Fünke was with me, he’d have a bubble tea and after a few boba balls got caught in his straw he’d say, “Even if it means me taking a chubby, I will suck it up.”

 

A few days later and I’m dining with 2Dew. “Today has definitely been a two Dew day,” she advised me. She wasn’t kidding. The server brought everyone their meal, except her. Clearly, it had been forgotten. Trying to help, I asked her, “Do you want some of my taco?” She heard me, but she didn’t reply. If Tobias had been there he might advise her, “Don’t leave your Uncle T-Bag hanging.”

 

That’s Not Chinese has a friend, Mi Amiga, in town from London. In proper hostess fashion, That’s Not Chinese has taken her around to various cultural events, such as VD dinner with me and MiniMe and Slut Cuts.

 

Mi Amiga has naturally curly hair and, though not in the market for a cut or color, was hoping for a little deep conditioning. “Can you do that?” That’s Not Chinese asked me. “Absolutely,” I told her and added, “Oh Wow put me in charge of sex in the sink so I’ll grab my best conditioner and do her right.”

 

As it turned out, several guests wanted to have sex in the sink with me. I ended up doing BioMom, Alice, Beaner, That’s Not Chinese and Mi Amiga. Alice wasn’t as keen on the process, “This feels like waterboarding.” I’m not sure how she knows what that feels like, so, while I had her under the tap, I asked a lot of questions. That’s Not Chinese didn’t seem to mind it at all and, as Beaner observed, “got really wet.” Mi Amiga patiently waited while others went before her, then mildly said, “I’m ready to be deepthroat conditioned.”

 

Once we got in the kitchen, she told me, “I think I’m going to moan.” And moan she did, but not for long – I’m guessing water may have got in her mouth.

 

Afterwards, I took a look around the room and was proud to see how many of the guests I had bagged, literally. At least three of them opted for the deep condition and, to help with the process, I tied plastic grocery bags around their hair. They may not wake up with me in the morning, but I’ve no doubt I’ll wake up on their mind, especially once they see and feel that which is a product of the best sex in the sink, ever.

 

Sentimental holidays are a great time to break up with someone. The primary reason this is beneficial is cost – financial and emotional. You will save yourself tons of money and tears if, for no other reason than to save money and tears, you break up with your significant other a few days prior to the holiday.

 

This doesn’t mean you won’t cry or spend money, you most likely will, but it won’t hurt as much. Instead of being completely let down by the lackluster way your partner approached the holiday, you can focus your disappointment on the end of a relationship (which you know you can start up again after the holiday, should you desire).

 

You can also spend your money on you. Go to dinner with friends and order the most expensive entree – you’ve earned it! Buy chocolates and extravagant gifts for yourself – you deserve nothing but the best! Get pampered – facials, massages, pedicures, manicures, the works. Just don’t do acrylic nails.

 

MiniMe had stopped by a few days before a holiday and was distraught over her relationship with Striker. I Noticed and I were listening, being supportive, when I noticed (me, not I Noticed) her French manicured nails. “When did you do that?” I asked. “Yesterday. I was so mad I got acrylic nails. I hate acrylic nails,” she replied in between tears. “You know you can just get a manicure, no acrylics,” I advised. “Yes, I know. Like I said, I was really mad,” she told us.

 

Lesson learned for both of us. MiniMe learned she won’t ever do acrylic nails again (mad or otherwise) and I learned only really mad girls have acrylic nails.

Just when I think it has been a while since I’ve had sex, someone tells me they had sex with me – in their dreams.

 

Sleepless was the first to confess such carnal somnia. It was almost a year ago and as far as I know we haven’t had sex since. This time, it was I Was A Stripper. Unlike Sleepless, who told me at breakfast with MyFace, Opreggano and Q in the room, I Was A Stripper told me via email. The subject line read, “Damn Girl,” and the email read, “I had a nasty dream about you! Thought  you might like to know:-) lol”

 

It was nice to know. Although, the ‘lol’ made it a little less sensual.

 

All of this activity involving me without me reminded me of a line I once heard in prison:

 

Inmate: Are your legs tired?

Me: No.

Inmate: They should be – you’ve been running through my mind all day.

 

It appears all of my physical activities – day or night – have been outsourced. Hopefully, I’ll be cleaning soon – in your dreams.