Show me how…

Do people really watch sex how to’s to really learn things?  I always thought they were church-types porno tapes. You know, they would never own a porno video, but a video of two people fucking…along with bullet points and instructor guidance is completely harmless.

This is a long story…I’ll make it short. I was looking for Eddie Izzard DVDs on my library’s website.  I found one such DVD, the British sketch comedy “We Know Where You Live.” I place it on hold.  Weeks go by. I check my library account and see that a DVD called “We Know Where You Live” is in, but I’ve forgotten what that was.  So I search for it on Amazon, and BINGO, found it and remember. 

Next, because I’m always curious as to the other items purchased by those who also purchased my search item, I scroll down. Here are the first three titles I saw.

Lie With Me (2005)

 

 

 

 

 

Candy Girls, Vol. 3 (2008)

 

 

 

 

 

Elements of Desire

 

 

 

 

As you can see, these are all porn tapes (probably soft-core).  Well, you know me and porn. My curiosity piqued and I clicked to “see more” and found myself perusing the sex how-tos.  I get that you can learn techniques.  Like a “Learn to Blow Like a Pro” video would be helpful.  I made that title up, BTW.  But, a video titled “How to Make Love to a Women” can’t be a good idea. I mean look at the fucking chair she’s on.  I’m not taking advice from someone with taste that putrid.

But, maybe I’m too judgemental.  Maybe I should give the video a spin in the old VHS.  After all, listen to this women’s review of “Nina Hartley’s How to Make Love to a Woman.”

5.0 out of 5 stars Oh my god that’s good, February 1, 2005 By  A. Alhino (Berkeley, ca United States) – See all my reviews (REAL NAME)    To all the men who think this DVD is a waste of time: My husband watched this DVD at a hotel without me, and when he arrived home, we had one of our best encounters ever. Ever. This DVD explains in detail — concise, careful, easy to follow detail — techniques that worked better than I’d ever dreamed. As a matter of fact, he’s reading this over my shoulder right now and…actually…I’m going to log off. WATCH THIS VIDEO.

Wait a minute, he’s reading this over your shoulder?  And you have to log off right now?  Well, A. Alhino, that isn’t your husband reading over your shoulder.  It’s your dad.

 

-bye lovelies…it’s almost time to leave and I think I‘ve worked hard enough for one day.

Callanetics and Crash Dieting, my new BFs

I’m starting a new crash diet that I’ve named AB Diet.  So, if anyone you work with or sleep with starts using this term…punch them in the boob.  It’s my diet, all mine. 

Now, about this AB Diet.  It is so named because I will eat (mostly) apples and beans.  And by beans I really mean legumes, but AB sounds better than AL.  And only really old people or pretentious people use the term legume to talk about beans.  If this offends any of my readers, please let me know.  I aim to please and will retract any story or change my opinion if doing so garners additional friends/readers/stalkers/lovers.

In addition to eating apples and beans I plan to start doing or practicing Callanetics.  I’ve already placed a book on request with my library! What I need next is a flashy onesy that coordinates with some leg warmers.  Think Jane Fonda, but with bigger boobies.

 

I think the Callanetics will help with my goal of doing the splits.  I may even be fit enough to start stripping for extra cash.  I’ll definitely have new moves (you know, from the Callanetics and I’ll have the outfits as well).

Below are some of my stripper moves- compliments of www.callanetics.com/method.php

p.s. I stopped eating toothpaste, but only because I forgot.

Highlights of my day

•  have a new book waiting for me at the library.
• I bought some cough drops.
• I found a potential new hair style- Duffy’s style.  I don’t really like Duffy, that thing she does with the microphone is painful to watch.  It’s reminds me of something one of those little beauty pageant girls does during her talent act.  It’s the only trick that pony knows. But, she can sings and I like her hair. It reminds me of Dolly Parton, but less country and more English.
• I have $8 in my checking account!!!
• I have $7.50 in my savings account!!!
• I have $15.50 to my name, which is more than I had last week.

I ruled out this hairstyle.

Know your fee, hooker.

On the train this morning, a gentleman of questionable means, started to chat me up.  Know this, when I’m on the train I do everything in my powers to look unavailable for conversation.  I wear ear buds, even when I’m not listening to anything.  I read a book or magazine. And, I wear sunglasses.  Regrettably, these barriers don’t always hold everyone at a distance. Back to this morning.  I avoided his conversation as  long as possible, until he started in with, “Miss?  Miss?  can you hear me.” What a fucking moron.  I pulled my ear buds out and, while still wearing my sunglasses, said, “What’s wrong with you?”

He started complimenting my hair, and my neck, and my purple shirt.  I’m thinking, get to the fucking point. So, I say, “Thank you. What do you want? Where are you going with this?”  He replied, “Oh, you’re so direct.” 

(I should point out this dude’s appearance was all-in-all pulled together; he was approximately 25, a little bit hipster and a little bit bohemian. I’m not going to lie, I was diggin’ his style.  He was not homeless, but he was definitely trite. If he was homeless I would have said, “thank you” and put my ear buds back in and he would have respected that.)

Anyways, I just repeated myself, “Where are you going with this?” And then he started telling me about his photography studio (room at his mom’s) and this new “photography study” he’s “embarking upon” that tries to place two “juxtapositions” next to each other.  I know, he didn’t even use the word correctly.  Maybe this line stuns and appeals to his other “subjects”, but I could care less about his new study.  I told you he was trite.  Long story short, he asked me to be one of his “subjects.” And I asked him, “How much are you paying your subjects?”

(A girl must always know her fee and never be flattered out of money.  That would be fucking ridiculous and an insult to all the hardworking hookers that came before us. )

Of course, he started in with his rhetoric about art and expanding people’s minds and how I would be part of this great experiment. Alas, he and I will never be.  The only experiments I do to expand my mind are drug experiments, and I expect the same from others.  I told him, with a smile, ”Your study sounds interesting and your intentions harmless, but I’m not in the mood to negotiate my fee. This is my stop. Good luck with your study.”

Maybe I missed out on a opportunity.  But, I think not.  Maybe I’ll see him again.  Maybe we’ll be friends.

Don’t be Jealous of My Boogie

This is what I’m listening to and watching today.  DWI (deal with it)

 

http://wow.wowtv.tv/episodes/rupaul-jealous-of-my-boogie

 

I’m totally into RuPaul and the drag world. I’m thinking I need to infiltrate this world, get in, get dirty, and become these hookers bitch. Think of all the things I’ll learn.

I’ve already started to pick up the lingo. You know, like “That slut is giving me shade.” and “This sno-cone makes my world go ’round.”

Oh, rainbows and unicorns.

These Queens make my world go ’round. Maybe this is how me and dad will connect. If fact, I think I’m going to plan a weekend around a drag show. He needs a Queen mentor, he’s flailing in the proverbial straight wind. He’s left to his own demise.  He has no help, no make-up tips, no witty one-liners. He needs some guidance.

Get ready to be jealous of my boogie.

“I HAVE A NICE ASS!”

I bought a new pencil skirt simple because it made someone elses ass look good.  I know.  Here’s the review:

From : Nora Feb 13, 2009	FIVE STARS
OMG! i bought this skirt for a school presentation in november, but i didn’t wear it until today at a science presentation. My measurements are 34-27-38, and i don’t really have hips, so the 38 is all butt. i bought a medium cuz the small was too much ass for school. Now, let me tell you how hot i felt! Guys who i had never talked to before were saying hi to me, dudes all over the room were checking me out, some boys in my class kept asking me to turn around! IT WAS AWESOME!!!!! i will but more, in different colors! I HAVE A NICE ASS!

 

I’m looking for hot.  We’ll see, the skirt should be here tomorrow.  If you’ve been moved, by Nora’s review, to purchase this skirt…head over to http://www.americanapparel.net

I love you hookers.

Me against the world

Today I’m bitter.  Yesterday I was bitter.

I don’t know why, but I am.  Okay, I do know why.  But I don’t know why I’ve chosen to focus on all these things today. Maybe it’s the weather, maybe it’s  because I’m hungry, maybe it’s because my bi-polar is rearing it’s head again. Either way this is what the professionals call my depressive state.  It will likely clear up (like my adult pimples) in a few days.  Or if I need to clear it up sooner (like my adult pimples) I can use medication. The problem for those around me is that I like my ups and downs.  I like to stay there and revel (or wallow as my mom says) in my missery/anger/bitterness and visa versa my joy/content/gitty.  I’ll even medicate to stay in these place longer. 

So this time, I’m bitter. Like I said, nothing particular happened to put me in a bitter mind set.  But, for me, it doesn’t take something particular or recent to trigger my mood change. In fact, it’s sometimes as simple as a song, a smell, a conversation or worse, nothing at all.  I’m bitter. 

This is a comfortable place for me.  Anger on the other hand is not.  But bitter, lonely, happy, silly, spontaneous, these are all my favorites.  I’ve probably been bitter since I was about seven.  Yes, seven years old. This puts me in 1st grade and that’s when I started misbehaven.  I spent a lot of time in the principle’s office getting “paddled” for my indescretions.  Which, at seven included throwing rocks, pushing people, spitting, running away from my teachers and talking back.  A lot has changed since seven. I don’t throw rocks at people, push people or spit.  I still run away from teachers and other authority figures and I can’t help but talk back. 

Back to my friend, “Bitter”.  My first bitter feelings were towards myself, then my parents, then God, and then the principle of my elementary school…I could go on, but I want to talk about my current bitterness. Today I’m bitter towards my job, my fatness, my family, the family I don’t have…But like I said, I like to revel in my bitter.

To suspend these feeling and maintain my state of mind, I listen to bitter jams while indulging in…let’s call them vitamins.  Some of my fav jams:

“Me Myself I”   Joan Armatrading

“What I Got”   Sublime

“Private Dancer”    Tina Turner

“Wake up Alone”   Amy Winehouse

“Those Three Days”    by Lucinda Williams- if you want to listen, I found a video.  It starts out with a huge weirdo reciting a poem, but hang in there, after about 20 seconds the song begins. 

Crimson and Clover by Tommy James and The Shondrells

“Beast of Burden” The Rolling Stones

And a smattering of sounds from Soundgarden, Bush, some Oasis and some Counting Crows.

p.s. for my gals in honor of our game “How would it be”, Earthworm would have this song playing in the background.  He would be hind you, with his arm around your waist and he would whisper the “yes” that follows “is it alright”  No surprise I found this sound on the soundtrack of The L Word.  You’ll love the cheesey slide show.  That might be playing on a large wall during dinner.  The song is “Alright” by Kinnie Star.

Mom. Strongbow. Sassy Chicks. Strongbow. Bread. Strongbow. In the Womb. Strongbow.

What a weekend. I spent most of my precious weekend with my mom.  She had big plans for us, which included a lot of work in the garden.  The good news is that a chilly weather front came in on Friday evening and ruined her plans for gardening. The bad news was she had a Plan B, like she always does. She told me to come over whenever I wanted and we would have some chili. Easy, I can do that.  I get anxious when I go somewhere and we don’t really have planned activities.  I’m okay if we sit around and watch TV, that’s an activity to me and I thought that’s what I would be doing.  Watching TV, playing with the dogs, eating chili and watching more TV.  My mom is the same way except she doesn’t think watching TV is a legitimate activity, she needs a fucking curriculum. So, my mom planned some activities for us.  First, she buttered me up (really she tricked me) with the enticement of unlimited Strongbows. We started out drinking.  So now I’m thinking I drink, I watch TV, I play with dogs, I eat chili, and watch more TV and drink.  I had two within an hour and she hadn’t finished her first, so I finished it for her.  Then as we finished up our lunch, she tells me that she has a craft project she needs my help with.

My mom usually needs my help with reaching things up high or reaching for things behind the refrigerator.  She thinks I’m tall and have incrediably long skinny arms.  I’m not tall, 5′6″, and I absolutely do not have long or skinny arms. 

But, help with a craft project…after two and half Strongbows, I was actually interested in seeing this craft.  I envisioned something robust or tall that she needed my help lifting or to staple flowers to the top. Not the case.  She had read an article in Woman’s Day or Redbook about a fun Easter craft.  We were about to make SASSY CHICKS. I won’t go into the details of making these little creatures, but I will tell you this.  They are about 1 inch tall and my mom plans to attach them to hats.  Hats, yes hats.  She plans to attach them to straw hats for herself and her dog Tigger.  Don’t worry, she knows exactly how she’s going to do this, because she’s done this before, for a Pooch Parade.

 

 

 

Craft time finally wrapped. Which was surprisingly quick.  Even a little drunk, warm as my mom calls it, I was able to create four sassy chicks in about 30 minutes.  Our next activity was baking bread. She has a new toaster oven, so we needed to try out some bread recipes.  We made whole wheat with raisins, sourdough with raisins, and Irish soda bread with raisins and cinnamon.  That killed another two hours, but any activity with food involved is fun.  Of course, I had two more Strongbows.  Yes, by now I’m drunk. And yes, by now I’m drunk with my mom.

As we sat down to eat our bread, two pieces of each, she says she has a program she wants to watch me me.  At first I thought it was going to be some Joel Olsteen re-runs, but no.  It was a program called, “In the Womb” and yes, it was about babies in the womb.  Because it was recorded she was able to pause, rewind, and fucking slow-mo that shit.  I don’t know if you know what happens in a womb, but it’s pretty much in slow-mo naturally.  So, watching this shit in slow-mo was more boring that my drunk self was ready to deal with.  But, in true form, to deal with this boredom I started snacking on our fresh baked bread and drinking more. Two hours later, the “In the Womb” program was over.  Here’s a clip, if you’re curious…

 

 I needed to “cool off” as my mom said, before I could leave so we watched some recorded “The Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson.”  My mom said, “He’s hilarious, even for a Scot.” 

p.s. to catch Roy of Sigfried and Roy in a skeletor mask- tune in to 20/20 this Friday.

Men who cross their legs have vaginas

Now I’m talking about men who cross their legs like girls.  I know I’m immature, but I can’t help it.  Jesus and God made me this way.

I had a hard time finding pics of what I’m talking about, but here’s the closet I could find.  I realize this guy is Ric Ocasek from The Cars, but I’m still confident he’s hiding a vagina under those pants.  Do you see how close is knees are.  I’m in a really pissy mood today.  Also, look at his fucking sandals!  Dad, is that you?

Globtrotters vs grandaughter…my g-ma chooses Globetrotters

My dad is blowing me off to hang with my g-ma…his mom. No big.  But, I haven’t seen my g-ma in about 17 years!  Usually I don’t even know when she’s in town.

My dad is taking my g-ma and her husband to the Harlem Globetrotter concert- his words.  He was quick to say that he couldn’t afford to take me to the concert, but wanted to give me the courtesy of a call to break our dinner plans, scheduled for the same time as the concert.  Well, the Globetrotters are playing right next door to where I work and about 10 miles from where I live.  I asked if she would want to grab dinner before the concert so we could see each other and that’s when my dad sighed.  He told me to not get my hopes up. She was only coming in to town to see the Globetrotters, but he’ll run it by her.

I’m not going to get my hopes up.  I’m not going to take it personally.  And, I’m certainly not going to be upset.

I will drink.

Piss off Globetrotters.