A PSA from the 70's

Is this creepy or what? And, it's really fucked up what Betty's mother did to her best friend Dottie. Really, it was fucked up. Wash your hands, people!

Birthday Shout-Out!

Ok, bitches. I'm working my ass off and trying to finish my final project and paper for my class. Mrs. Flax rocked a special birthday today, so please send her some telepathic b-day wishes. We will be partying it up on the East side this weekend. I will need to let loose, so I'll be the one wearing the lampshade. When we were kids, Mrs. Flax and I would make up dance routines in the car. My favorite one was to She's Like the Wind by Patrick Swayze. You gotta love him. Too bad my parents never invested in a video camera. I'm sure I would have some damaging video. This one is for you, Mrs. Flax. Rock on with your hot ass self!

Where to go from here?

Who the fuck knows! Mr. Vomit came to talk to me today. I didn't have a lot to say to him, and there were some awkward silences. I usually feel like I have to fill those, but I didn't today. I just stared at him. He muttered a few things and left. I have been struggling to keep up with my work load, plus my graduate class is kicking my ass right now. Everything is due by Friday, and I will be cutting it close. It seems like everything has been piled on me this week. I was checking my email this afternoon, and I had one from Mr. Vomit. It was an actual apology. He really said, "I apologize." He also stated that he valued me and my work. That sort of creeped me out because it sounds like cheesy bullshit, but whatever. Normally, I would try to figure out his angle, but I just don't have time, and I don't much care anymore. My goal is to finish all of my work and school crap and take Thursday off. I haven't been out with Mr. Bitchford in forever, and his exams will end on Wednesday. I think we're going to an early movie and just not plan the rest of the day. The rest of my week can only go up from here, right?

Past Pissed Off

I had a shitty day at work. Mr. Vomit is once again at the center of my shitty day. To any new readers out there, Mr. Vomit is a shit-eating dog fucker that I work with, and I'm being nice with that description. Sukie and I work on a project with him, and he basically just doesn't listen to anyone. He's very disorganized, and he fucking forgets everything. The worst thing about him is when something goes wrong, he blames everyone around him. Well, today he blamed me. He drew back a bit of a nub, but the damage was done. He went to imply that I didn't do my job, so I called him a victim. I explained that victims do not take responsibility for their own actions nor do they seek solutions. Instead, they try to push the blame off on others in the hopes that no one will notice that they fucked up royally. He shut up. Once the meeting started to break up, I tried to address him one on one. It went like this.

Me: "Mr. Vomit, I can't read your mind. If you need help with parts of the project, you need to ask me. I prefer to speak to you face-to-face and not get in an email war with you."

Mr. Vomit: "That's fine."

Me: "Clearly, you feel that I have dropped the ball. I would like to talk about this and come up with some solutions that we can both live with."

Mr. Vomit: silence

How the hell do you work with and reason with a fucktard? Seriously? I'm thinking of quitting the project because I would just really prefer to spit in his face and not talk things out. I would also like to punch him directly in his shiny "I get a facial every week" face. I don't really want to quit because I really like the project. There is no hope of him being replaced, so I just feel stuck. What's a girl to do?

Why Pop Your Corn When You Can Poop It?

This is so wrong, but that has never stopped The Bitches before.

Jesus is Cheesy

So, this woman asked her boyfriend to make her some cheese toast one night and out came Jesus freakin' Christ! This is her story, at least. I don't really see Jesus in the cheese. Gregg Allman? Maybe. Jesus? Not so much. In the article, she talks about her religion and how important it is to her. She follows this up with the fact that she may try to sell the toast for a large sum of money. Well, nothing says praise the Lord like trying to profit from your religion. Maybe she would give all of the proceeds to her church, but I kind of doubt it. Also, didn't someone else already find Jesus in his cheese toast? Why, oh why, is Eastwick so behind the times?

Hard (pun intended) Economic Times

First, I must start this out by saying that I'm addicted to Google. I love searching for anything and everything. For this reason, I have no idea how in the hell I stumbled across homemade sex toys, but I did. Apparently, times are so tough that a man may need to make himself a homemade pocket pussy. I've posted the directions below with a link. I'm assuming that this was just a spoof for the sex website that features it, but I do wonder how many poor souls have burned the tip of their dick on the homemade pocket pussy. You know someone has tried it, and you know that someone has made the water hot and not warm. I do appreciate the fact that all of the steps, especially step 3, are just straight to the point. Are there any crafty guys or gals out there with more creations?

Pocket Pussy
Step 1: Fill balloons with warm water

Get about four or five balloons. Fill them with warm, not hot, water. Tie the ends so water will not squeeze out. This also works with hot water bottles.



Step 2: Roll a pillow put a plastic bag inside

Take a pillow; roll it up like a tube and tie a string around it or even use your belt. Push the warm water balloons into the opening of the pillow tube. Your fleshy warm vagina is almost ready. Take a small plastic kitchen trash can bag. Push it in between the balloons in the pillow. Put some lubricant of your choice inside the plastic bag that is being tightly squeezed by the balloons.



Step 3: Warm, tight, and slippery fake pussy

Get your dick ready. Put the pillow on bed. Put your dick inside this plastic vagina. You will feel the warmth, slipperiness and tightness you only dreamed of.

To All the Women in my Life

I don't know about you, but I really needed this today. Too bad it doesn't come with all of Mary's cute dresses. Damn.

Childhood Sing-A-Longs

Mr. Bitchford and I were sitting here chatting about old songs we remembered. I started talking about how my parents used to make my sister and I take drives in the country with them. I would always whine, but then it would end up being lots of fun. My parents were Oak Ridge Boys' fans, so we always had some happening cassettes in the car. I started to sing some of the songs to Mr. Bitchford, and he started laughing at the lyrics. At the time, I didn't know what I was singing. I was just a kid, and I thought it was fun to belt out the lyrics. I'll share a few with you.



Easy by The Oak Ridge Boys

All the boys called her easy

Took her to drive-in movies

And bragged about the good times they had



The girls talked about her

And had parties without her

And wondered why a girl would let herself go so bad



They called her easy, easy

And laughed about how easy she was

They called her easy, easy

They said she was easy to love



They didn't care if she was lonely

They didn't care if she was only reachin' out

The only way she could



They didn't try to understand her

And this smalltown talk branded her

With names that said she wasn't any good



They called her easy, easy

And laughed about how easy she was

They called her easy, easy

They said she was easy to love



Easy's child came early

It seemed in such a hurry

For one who'd go through life without a name



Easy's eyes were brighter

Than the moonlight on the water

When they handed her the child no one would claim



My friends thought I was crazy

To love Easy and her baby

They said I was a fool, but I just smiled



'Cause love is what you make it

Any way you finally take it

It's the only thing that makes life worthwhile



Now she's easy, easy

And life is not as lonely as it was

Because she's easy, she's easy

She's so easy to love



Now she's easy, easy

And life is not as lonely .......



Yes, this song is about a young girl that had sex with all of the boys. She became pregnant, and some fool claimed her baby, but it wasn't really his. Oh, how I loved singing this song. Mrs. Flax and I will sometimes get this cranked up real loud in the car and belt it out to this day.



Here's another one.



Trying to Love Two Women by The Oak Ridge Boys

Trying to love two women is like a ball and chain.

Trying to love two women is like a ball and chain.

Sometimes the pleasure ain't worth the strain.

It's a long old grind, and it tires your mind.



Trying to hold two women is tearing me apart.

Trying to hold two women is tearing me apart.

One's got my money, the other's got my heart.

It's a long old grind, and it tires your mind.



When you try to please two women, you can't please yourself.

When you try to please two women, you can't please yourself.

At best it's only half good; a man can't stock two shelves.

It's a long old grind, and it tires your mind.



Yep, it's a song about a man with two wives/girlfriends. My favorite line is, "At best it's only half good; a man can't stock two shelves." Ha! That's just funny. The truth is that I still love riding around by myself and blasting these songs. I don't usually admit it because not too many 30-somethings want to admit to being an Oak Ridge Boys' fan, but it's what I am. Oh, and my favorite one is William Lee Golden. I love all of that hair. *sigh*

Momfia AKA The Muffins

I was talking to a friend today, and she has a six year old. She was telling me about some of the women at a local school where she is from. Her kid is in kindergarten at a nice, public elementary school. Her friend's kid is also enrolled in a public school, but it's not so nice. Apparently there are these women who call themselves the Momfia or The Muffins. I'm not sure why a group would choose both of those names because one sounds kind of mean, and the other one reminds me of women with muffin tops. I digress. The Momfia has power, yo. My friend was telling me that this group of women decide which kids are going to be popular. Yep. They decide which kindergartners are going to be popular. Then, they purposefully don't invite the "reject" children to parties and play dates. I'm not fucking kidding. I got the impression that these women are actually mean to the children they deem unpopular.

I'm ashamed to say that this is taking place in the town I grew up in. It was very much like this when I was a kid. I think I was the kind of kid who beat the shit out of the popular kids, so they didn't really have a choice but to like me. I was sort of mean and demanding. What can I say? This attitude has taken me far. ;) Seriously, though, what in the hell is wrong with these women? I don't have children, so I thankfully don't have to deal with this bullshit. The closest I've come to dealing with it was when some tweens were making fun of my little neighbor, and I called them bitches and told them to get the hell out of my yard. I know it wasn't the adult thing to do, but they were acting like little bitches, and they made my little neighbor cry. What the fuck is wrong with people?!?

Sexy as Shit?

Someone sent this to me, and I had to share. You should really flush your toilet before taking a sexy shot of yourself for your MySpace page. Do I need to say anything else?

No Happy Easter in Eastwick

A tornado ripped through Eastwick on Friday night. Ahhh! It was pretty fucking scary. We have a basement to hide in, so we were very lucky. There were power poles that snapped right in two in our neighborhood. We didn't get our power back until about an hour ago. A shower has never felt so good! In some ways, it was kind of nice. We had beautiful weather (after the tornado), and all of the neighbors gathered around and talked. We fired up our grills and made sure everyone had something hot to eat. All in all, it wasn't that bad. Just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore, the power came back on. Now, we get to head to the store and replace all of the fucking food that we lost. Shit!

Monster In-Laws

Actually, I really dig my in-laws, but it's funny to watch peoples' faces when I say they are coming. They do not venture into Eastwick very often because they used to live here. They pretty much hated it just like I do. They've since moved to the land of a blue state and are enjoying themselves. They just adopted a new dog, so she will be coming too. Apparently, she is giant and likes to jump on your lap. Oh well, it's better than a screaming kid with a loaded diaper. I was trying to prepare for their arrival because I wanted the house to be freaky clean and shit. What did I do? I threw out my back.

The last time they visited I had managed to throw out my back. I had been dancing with one of the dogs...don't ask...and it just went out on me. I was trying to throw away a giant bag of used kitty litter this time and out it went. Sometimes I wonder if I'm all that different or if people just don't talk about the real shit that goes down in their houses. Anyway, I've been hobbling around behind poor Mr. Bitchford and directing him on how to dust. He's such a good man. He hasn't said one cross word to me yet. Shit, I've annoyed myself a few times.

Isn't it funny how crazy we get when someone is coming to visit? I don't expect someone's house to be spotless. I just expect there to be no pubs on the toilet seat and no hair in my food. That's about it. I don't care about dust or a little clutter. Hey, at least I'm not going to serve them any meat from the door-to-door black market meat salesman.

On a side note, here's a shout out to Jessie at David's Doll. She just landed a professional photography gig. Snaps for The Doll!

Hell has Frozen Over

Ok, ya'll. It is officially April, and we are expecting snow tonight. I don't think it will accumulate, but damn! Al Gore, I would like to know what the fuck is up with this weather. Are the poor polar bears migrating to Eastwick?

On an unrelated note, my mother called the other day. She had just come back from a wedding and had wonderful details to share. I think she works with the bride and groom. Anyway, there were four-wheelers, rebel flags, and the bride danced to "I'm a Redneck Woman" by Gretchen Wilson. Oh, and the groom was missing a front tooth. Nope. I'm not making this up.

Now, my mom would like everyone to believe that she was nervously fingering her pearls, but I know better. I bet she was popping wheelies on that four-wheeler with her Ann Taylor suit riding up around her waist. When in Eastwick...;-)

One last thing...if a man comes to your house and tries to sell you some frozen steak, just say no. Check this article out. Seriously, who in the hell buys frozen meat out of the back of a pick-up truck...FROM A STRANGER??? Crazy!

Vertical Ballet

Have you ever heard of this? I hadn't. The local Eastwick news station did a story tonight on vertical ballet. It's what the rest of us call spinning around on a stripper pole. There were these women with their legs wrapped around these big, shiny, phallic poles. I don't mind the whole stripper workout craze, but at least own up to it. My favorite interview of the night was with an older white woman, who began her interview by telling the reporter that she was a good Christian. She said that this is strictly for her health, and it has nothing to do with the sex industry. The camera pulled back from her, and she had on thigh high stockings. She ended the interview by telling the reporter that she had even had a vertical ballet pole installed in her home. Now, we all know that woman is spinning around on that pole for her husband or significant other. Again, that's fine, but don't act like you are not riding the giant, phallic stripper pole.

The reporter also interviewed the instructor, and she looked a lot like Apollonia. Remember her?

The instructor kept calling it vertical ballet too. Come on, lady! I just saw you take a flying leap at that pole. You continued by executing some fancy leg moves that can only be learned in a strip club. Just own it! All week I have been bombarded with shitty news about the local, state, and federal government. Finally, there was a fun story on, and everyone had to act like an uppity bitch. What the fuck? Why couldn't they just call it exotic dancing or something? I really do hate this place.

Hmm

I watched Oprah yesterday. Michael J. Fox was on, and it ended up being a really good show. At first, I thought it might be a downer, but it wasn't. He's really funny. The show also featured interviews with him and his wife. Watching all of this made me realize something. Before I tell, I need to give you a little background.

Up until I met Mr. Bitchford, I don't know that I was ever really in love. I've been married before, and I look back and wonder why I didn't realize that I didn't really love my ex-husband. Maybe it was my age. Maybe it was the time in my life. Maybe he was just unlovable. Who knows? I've always said that if the person I was married to or in a relationship with suffered a debilitating accident/disease, I don't know that I would stay. I've always hoped that I would, but I never knew if I could do that or not.

So, back to my realization. I was watching Michael J. Fox and his wife interact, and it hit me. I would stay with Mr. Bitchford. I couldn't imagine abandoning him. It's weird how you float through life and begin relationships and end relationships. I can honestly say, for the first time, that I am in love. Weird.