Wednesday, October 22, 2014

Ciao, Reader!

Hi, Reader! Long time no chat.  Well, a one-sided chat, but a chat none-the-less. 

Sorry I left you with that last stinky post for so long. 

This is not going to be much of anything, either. Ya wanna know why??  Well, I'll tell ya why. Because I'm off to Milan for a work trip. Yep, working at Tiny Town has finally delivered the best payoff since I started. One of my vendors invited me to a conference by the Italian Trade Commission. Score for me. It pays to be nice. 

I'll let that sink in for a moment and let the jealousy take hold. Because this? Is going to be the best work trip. Ever.  Unless I get Taken and sold into some sort of weird fetish sex slavery cult, where men want overweight, middle-aged women with arthritis and big tits.  Because I'm prime pickings for that little genre.  

So unless that happens, I'll be in Milan. Then maybe possibly Venice for a night. Then I'm off to Switzerland, Lucerne to be exact, where I shall drink cocoa and say, "Aw!" as I drink in the sights and my beverage. 

Don't try to rob my house, Bad Guys. I've got Kenny and eight guard cats here.  Yep, you read that right. Eight of 'em.  Enter at your own risk. They just might pee on you, based on how they're acting lately.

I'm heading out in five minutes, but I made time for you, Reader. Because you're that important to me. And I needed to gloat.  Ahem. Sorry. 

Enjoy your week! I should be drunk by tomorrow evening on fine wine. Which makes me classy. 

Sunday, October 12, 2014

You'll Wanna Skip This One.

I was chatting with some guy friends of mine. And somehow or another the subject of girls with smelly vaginas came up.  Yeah, I don't know, Reader, I don't know how. It just did. I may have brought it up. As in, "Hey, what's the worst thing that you've ever smelled down there?" and then the subject came up.

Guy Friend #1 said that he was with the hottest girl ever, but it was a bad situation down there. But she was so good looking that he gave it another go, only he decided to start the date in the shower, figuring he could fix it all up down there.

It didn't work. 

So now I know if I ever get invited into the shower as foreplay, I'd better pay better attention to my hygiene.  Thanks a lot for the extra paranoia, Guy Friend #1. 

Then Guy Friend #2 said that he dated a girl who had a bad situation down there. But he loved her, so he just didn't get his nose close to the situation after the first time. He stayed above the belt line, although the aroma was so pungent that he could smell it during doggy-style.

So I asked them both, "Did you ever just tell the girls?" 

I don't know why I thought that was a viable option. Do it for humanity? Something noble like that?  

They both shot me a look with crazy-eyes, like they were looking at someone who'd just lost their mind right at that exact moment.

I suggested a witty little icebreaker that would get them laughing at the shared joke, and almost sounding flattering:

"Why don't ya say, "Baby, you put the P.U. in Pussy!" But say it all sexy like."

After they were done laughing and laughing, she'd go to the bathroom, freshen up the situation and they'd live happily ever after. 

Or not. It may end much, much differently. 

Hey, I can't solve all the world's problems. 

Saturday, October 11, 2014

Stay In The Room

For my friends, celebrating 23 years of Marital Bliss this weekend:

They met in college and have been good partners and friends in life. 

It's hard to stay together. Every year is a celebration, not just some "milestone" number.  Because it's really hard putting up with other people sometimes.  And after all those years you're most likely not putting your best foot forward all the time. Or maybe that's just me, and other couples hide their disgustingness better than I do. 

For instance, coming home from work yesterday I shared the part of my day with Kenny that maybe I should have kept to myself. The part where I had to use a q-tip to pick the dried blood out of my nose so I could do a little something people like to do, also known as breathe, because it's already dry in the house (I hope that's the reason and it's not nose cancer!) and my nose has been bloody for several days now. 

That's the stuff only the closest get to know about you after years and years together.  And now all of you. Thanks, Oversharing Me. 

Maybe I should have tried harder to keep some mystery in my relationships. But Jezzus, that seems like so much effort. Because when you ask how my day is? I might want to tell you the grossest part, like I had to pick bloody scabs out of my nose just to breathe. Sometimes that sums up the day. 

How do you keep the romance alive after years and years together, Reader?  Do you share all your disgusting parts with your partner, or do you keep your grossest bits hidden? 

I'm certainly no expert, that is no doubt - two ex-husbands tell the story of my un-success.  Maybe I should keep my bloody booger stories to myself and go with the pat answer "Fine" when asked how my day was. 

And now you know just one more gross part of me, Reader. You're welcome. And I'm sorry. But back to the point of this bloody mess of a story, and that is to wish only the happiest to my Columbus friends Rob & Beth.  Cheers to many more. 

*P.S.  - no one except me and Jennifer Aniston is going to understand the post title, so stop trying to figure it out. But it's significant. If you're really interested and have 20 minutes, you can watch here: