Because My Va-Jay-Jay Has A Preference… ?

toilet paperWhat a stupid consumer country we live in. Truly. Have you ever noticed the great lengths we go to in order to sell something? Take, for instance, dog food. It comes in cute little bone shapes and triangles, and colours… my dog isn’t going to care what colour or shape it is. Especially considering the garbage (literally) and shit (literally) that they eat. Toilet paper is another great example. I understand quilting it to make it softer… but those cute little designs? Because the only way to leave the bathroom with a sparkling clean bottom is if it has been wiped with paisley print!
And this is for absolutely EVERYTHING! Everything we touch, look at, buy, think about buying, want, think we want, don’t know that we want, or need is decorated and fancied up so we will buy it. The funny thing is that toilet paper is kind of a necessity so chances are we will buy it anyway. What a waste of time..

Speaking of necessities, all of this came to mind while I was opening a pad (sanitary napkin for those of you who prefer to be technical). I haven’t bought a new pack in a long time, seeing as I was pregnant and didn’t really need any,  but my last pack had pads with just a regular green centre and outline of the absorbent areas. The new ones? Let me tell you: they are like pads for celebrities. Blue swirls and curly-cues all over in a delicate pattern. Yes, because heaven forbid I should have a boring old regular pad.. my vagina might refuse to bleed on it! (Hmm.. maybe I am onto something…).

Maybe we should spend less time and money making stupid things seem prettier, and put that extra effort into..oh, I dunno.. feeding hungry children? Taking care of veterans? Affordable housing? Charity? ANYTHING other than making sure my va-jay-jay doesn’t get offended at the lack of décor.

Rich Man, Poor Man, F-Wad!

Never Put Salt On a Snail.

poverty-no-accident Unless you have actually been poor, you will never truly understand what a drain it can be on your soul. You can’t say you get it, or you understand any more than I can tell a parent who has lost a child that I get it. I don’t. I can imagine the feelings of devastation, but I can never really, truly get it, until I have been there. And trust me, I pray to every god of every religion, – I never understand that anguish.
Now I’m not saying that I understand what it is like to be homeless. I do not claim to understand the level of poverty that many third world people face each day. I do however know what true poverty by western standards is like. I have lived in a home with no indoor plumbing, where we had a five gallon pail to use as a…

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I’m on one page, while my spouse is in another book entirely…

Romance_c_99482Sometimes, okay.. a lot of the time, I hint, pester, and straight up tell my spouse that if he was more ROMANTIC he would be rewarded (wink wink, nudge nudge, we are all adults here and you know what I am getting at…) so he should do something romantic more often. It comes up every few months, usually after I have read a romantic novel or we have watched a sappy love movie, and I get this idea in my head that although I don’t expect him to be romantic ALL the time… just once in a while could he surprise me?

Now, I am not saying he needs to rent a limo, blindfold me, and drive me out to some moonlit summer picnic where he has hired someone to write my name in the sky with fireworks while an orchestra that he hired specifically for the evening plays romantic music softly beside us (not that I would complain if it were to happen) but SOMETHING kind of remotely romantic would be nice… sometimes.. once in a while…

The problem is that our definitions of romantic are off a little. A lot. They aren’t even close.
His definition? “I cuddle with you every night!” “Well, we shower together” “I let you pick the movie and I didn’t even play a video game yesterday!”
**Let me be perfectly clear, I love these things. I love that he says “I love you” every day. I love cuddles. I love that he will let me pick the movie and won’t even complain. I love that he will join me in the shower. It all adds intimacy, love, and care into our relationship, and it is sweet and absolutely adorable! I wouldn’t trade one romantic evening for all of it!**

That said, it isn’t what I would call “romantic”. I’m not going to say my spouse is NEVER romantic. He has been… He has written me a poem, spent an entire day learning how to make me an origami flower, brought me flowers for no reason… his proposal was one of the most romantic events of my life! No he didn’t light up a scoreboard, or hire Broadway actors to sing and dance, or have “marry me” written in the sky.. He sat in a puddle. It was the mere fact that in that moment he felt so passionately about being with me that despite the fact that there were were, drenched, in the bathroom while he sat in a puddle, that he HAD to tell me right then and ask me to marry him!

This is what I mean by “romance”. Little pockets of passion that need to be let out once in a while. Even if on his cooking night he ordered pizza but put out a candle and the fancy glasses on the table, just to make it special, or decided that while I was doing dishes he just felt like dancing with me in the kitchen, or turned off the t.v. dimmed the lights and decided we would just talk and cuddle and.. other things maybe… those small romantic gestures would have him rewarded for at least a few weeks.

I guess I shouldn’t complain. I could have it much worse.. he could be being romantic to other women, buying them flowers, and lighting candles (Lord knows THAT has never happened before… ) but I don’t understand why a large portion of males aren’t romantic more often. It works in the movies… trust me, it will work in real life too!

P.S. I don’t know of a woman alive that has watched a movie where a man has bought a woman a new outfit, left it in the bedroom with a note to meet at some restaurant, and taken her out for a nice dinner that went “OH MY GOD I would HATE if my boyfriend did that for me! How terrible! Disgusting! She should leave him!” -You know, just in case you needed a good romantic date night idea. I’m just that kind of person.. here to help out. *wink wink*

Sybil Has A Penis.

love yourselfMy head needs a “no vacancy” sign. What is going on? Too many thoughts at once. It has been one of those weeks. In my case, one of those lifetimes. What?! No really – what?! The issue on today’s agenda? Sybil has a penis.
Sybil, like many other women, has a problem. They have begun to think with their penis. Okay, to be clear, Sybil does not actually have a penis. So somebody please, for the love of god, explain to me what is going on? Because I really, really, REALLY want to know. Sybil, like those many women, is not a stupid woman. She is bright, articulate, educated. She has not needed anyone to look after her since she was a little girl. But something has come over her lately. Something has taken possession of her brain. Is it male hormones? Is she a man trapped in a woman’s body, you ask? Good questions! But sadly, no. She is lonely. Sit down, Sybil. I told you you weren’t going like this!
Sybil started dating this guy a while back. Unfortunately, he turned out to be a bit of an idiot and she dumped him. Ever since then, she has been looking for a replacement. Now, I don’t have a problem with a replacement. I have a problem with her desperation. She isn’t thinking rationally. She dates the kind of men that you date when you are young and stupid and don’t know better. In fact, she dates worse. She dates men that she doesn’t particularly like. She even dates men that she thinks would rape her. Now I know you’re all thinking “No way! Not Sybil!” Yes. Sybil.
Let me set up the scenario. She went on a date. The guy drives her home after said date. Sybil allows the guy to escort her to her door. He steps in to say good night. Then he moves in for a kiss. This isn’t just any kiss. Sybil explains to me later that he was very aggressive. He was very “hands on”. Luckily, for Sybil, her roommate came home and interrupted the “kiss”. The next day, Sybil tells me, she believes that if her roommate had not come home, her date might not have stopped.
“So you’re telling me, you think he would have raped you?” I asked.
“Yeah.” She hesitated, “I think so.”
This is the point where your friend tells you what a f-wad the guy is and that they will never see him again. Right? Wrong. Sybil says she is attracted to him. She doesn’t know why. She says he gives her a bad feeling. Something is off. She thinks he looks like the devil. But she is attracted to his bad boy persona. Did I mention that Sybil is no dummy? Yes. I. Did. So what the hell is going on? Why, is she going to knowingly place herself in danger? Now I know that a lot of you are going to be super pissed off at what I am about to say. Trust me. I don’t care what you are wearing. I don’t care if you are dancing naked in front of a hundred men. You are not asking to be raped. NO MEANS NO! No one ever has the right to rape you! However, if you go on a date with a man, you believe may be dangerous. If you purposely, put yourself in a situation, where you will be alone with someone that you believe is capable of rape… YOU ARE ASKING FOR IT! I don’t smear myself with blood and go swimming in shark infested waters. You know why? Because I don’t want to eaten by sharks!
Sybil says she got used to having a physical relationship. She says she now needs sex. I tried to tell her this is why god gave her hands. She says she has a vibrator, but she is used to the real deal now. She needs the skin on skin contact. Nothing can replace it. I tell her rape is not fun. She tells me she will be careful. Well thank goodness for that! Break out the champagne glasses! Sybil is going to be careful! Hot diggedy dog! I feel so relieved. Except, that I’m LYING. I don’t feel relieved. What I feel, is the urge to reach out and slap her – really hard. Maybe slap some sense into her.
So here is the deal. Sybil is one of many. One of an army of women, desperately looking for a man to fill some empty space inside. A space they need to fill themselves. So they use the excuse that they are horny. They need sex. They got used to having it. What a cop out. How do the women who have been in a relationship for twenty years and suddenly find themselves single get by? COP OUT! Stop lying to everyone. Stop lying to yourself. You’re lonely. I get that. You want a relationship? Go ahead. Find Mr. Right. (Sorry. I gagged.) But for the love of god, love yourself first. Take a class. Take a trip. Join a club. Do something. Just stop making sex your excuse for dating losers.

The Most Interesting Woman In The World… Alternate Title: I Was A Buddhist Once.

meI think I would like to be a Buddhist, except that I think you spell it Buddist, so I might not make a good… one. I tried Christianity growing up, but decided I hated god after he killed my mom when I was ten. It’s all good now though, so don’t go hating on me, all you haters. And by haters I mean religious people.
So, Sarah told me I’m too worried about offending people. She said a good writer doesn’t worry about offending people and I need to do it more. I’m generally very good at offending people in person because I don’t have much of a filter. When it comes to writing though I spew and rewrite. Sarah says less rewrite and more spew. So don’t hate me. Hate Sarah. You should love me. I’m actually very lovable and I’m also the most interesting woman in the world. I even have a smoking jacket and a Dos Equis like that guy, but I don’t smoke because that would just be gross.
So, back to religion. I love religion. I don’t like how people have destroyed what ultimately is supposed to be a beautiful, spiritual experience. I mean, come on, people, you can read pretty much any holy book and find the same ideals. We are supposed to love each other. Love is the basis of almost every major religion. So why are so many of you spreading hate? Why have we been starting wars and killing each other over religion for centuries? Who cares who your god is? It shouldn’t matter what color your skin is, or whether you are heterosexual, homosexual, gay, transgender, married, divorced, rich, poor, tall, short, fat, thin – what matters is that you are a good, decent human being. Trust me, that’s all god cares about. He/she just wants us to be nice to each other. Whoever is out there watching over us must be getting pretty tired of our bullshit. I know I would be. Then again, I’m not god, I’m just a minor goddess on this great planet we call home.

By the way, I was never a Buddhist, but I’m pretty sure I’d like to be. Those guys love everyone – even you!

If I Were A Bitch.

If I were a bitch, I would sleep all day and eat nothing but chocolate, bacon, nachos, and drink Dos Equis. That’s if I were my bitch. Okay, I may be confusing a few people. I may also be offending a few people. When I say bitch, I literally mean female dog – as in my female dog.
My bitch is in heat. I’ve seen bitches in heat before, but mine literally wants to do nothing but sleep, eat, whine, and generally feel sorry for herself. I’m pretty sure she must have been a woman in a past life. I wish I knew a good psychic who could do a past life reading on her, because I think we’d find out my dog killed her husband while in the midst of a PMS rage. And hey, who could hold that against her?
I guess my point is this, all women should be excused for a few days each month to deal with the curse. All women should be allowed to curl up with a good book and do nothing but eat, drink, and sleep – just like my bitch does. Well, except my bitch can’t actually read. Thank god. I imagine my ass would be in deep do doo if my dog read this. Can you imagine? Holy crap. It would not be pretty. She’d burst into tears and say something like:
Why did you say I do nothing but sleep, eat, whine, and generally feel sorry for myself?! I hate you!