How to Introduce Sex Toys in Polite Conversation

Or... what I did Saturday night. (This one's for you Kevin!)

Please understand that normally, I am a shy, reserved individual who has nothing but compassion for her fellow man/woman. And after you buy that line, I have some more shit to feed you about how it was "not my beer, Mom", I was "watching the deer and couldn't get home on time, Mom" and "yes, I baked those cookies", future ex-husband!

Anyhow, as I make new friends in my new (almost 8 months) location, some people have just not learned that I have a memory like an elephant. It is only good for stupid crap, useless information and impertinent facts that have no relevance whatsoever to modern day discussion.

That being said, don't ever tell me that you don't have a "xxx". Doesn't matter was "xxx" is, if you don't ever want one, don't tell me.

Case in point. Two of my fellow female co-workers are playing on the company softball team. They play 2 nights a week and some Saturdays. The three of us have become decent friends, if not good friends (or we were before this) and have named our little triangle the "Sisterhood of the Golden Vagina". I felt it was appropriate when, last week, I wrote "Man Eater" on the back of one of the girls SUV windows! The other girl wrote "heart breaker" on a side window, it got to the discussion about how men are only good for...1) reaching things in high places (that's mine!) 2) taking out the trash and 3) scratching that itch. This conversation went from the parking lot at lunch, back to the office where we IM'ed (LOVE that may job has IM company wide!) until I thought I was going to pee my pants! Hence the discussion of.... sex toys.

I will freely admit to having been to a couple "adult toy parties". And I have that "this is the bag you must move if something happens to me, before my parents get here" pact with friends! Hell, I'm almost 40. One time, when I was in my early 20's, my mother, my "other mother" and I almost got kicked out of a candle party because the candles were, well, phallic. It was a bonding experience, but I digress.

In our IM discussion, which I wish I had archived, it was noted that I have a 96 pack of AA batteries in my refrigerator and co-worker "one" had never seen such a thing. They were a gift, but not in "that" way. My folks came to visit once and were pissed that my remotes didn't have good batteries (I rotate them...teehee) and went to Sam's Club, as retiree's often do, and bought me a huge box of them. Like I was preparing for a hurricane or the recession...

Anyhow, I stated the facts that yes, I had batteries, and who didn't?!?!?! WELL... coworker one didn't and coworker two stated that every girl should have a "jack rabbit" (I don't, nor will I ever). That was enough information to send us into fits of giggles and a request to "get to work over there". And, it was just the nugget of information I needed to lodge away.

Last week, plans were made to celebrate coworker ones' birthday after the softball game on Saturday. There would be a few people, but not the whole team. Which made coworker two and I to wonder... what should we get her for her birthday! Turning 31, being a single mom... what does every girl need??? Did someone just shout "a housekeeper"??!?!?!

Saturday morning, I headed west to shop (I have to drive over an hour remember) and I mapquested "Pricilla's" which is now "Cirilla's" which is stupid as shit. After doing my own shopping AT TARGET (pervs) I stopped at the "toy store" and started perusing the "toys" and found that... dildo's have really gone up in price in the last 5 years. Seriously! And apparently the technology is to die for, as one of them cost... I shit you not... $87. If I'm going to pay that much, the damn thing needs to paint my toes, take me to dinner and do my laundry!

Needless to say, I bought the cheapie, $36, "My First Jack Rabbit"! No lie. I wanted to look around at all the novelties, but the dude going through the $3 DVD table was creeping me out... mumbling under his breath, "got it", "saw it", "no, no, no"..."maybe".... just freaky. And then, like the idiot I am... I get to the counter and the checkout girl says... "do you need batteries?" and I'm like..."no, it's not for me" whereby I choke and say, "I mean, it's for my girlfriend" at which point I'm stammering and say..."Oh never mind..." to a girl who looks like I've just committed some cardinal sin. Seriously, bitch, you're working the counter of a sex shop, do NOT look down at me! I'm paying that $7.00/hr wage there!

Anyhow, giggling to myself, I then head to a music shop that I hear has seriously off-color cards. Tim (or Lea, tell Tim) watch out because our card war is ON!! I bought her a card that said something about "heard you wanted a big dick for your birthday" and the inside was this really unattractive man saying "Hi, I'm Dick!" Slightly distasteful yet humorous!

Off I go to the softball game (which I missed but that's a different story) and on to the restaurant/bar where there are 6 or 7 people waiting. I assess the situation for small children and/or parents (none present) and bring my tasteful birthday bag to the table.

Coworker two and I are convinced coworker one is going to kill us. She's sort of shy, but built like a brick shithouse and blond (bitch!) but not very confident and has these preconceived ideas of being "good". So not my typical friend material, but hey... you take it where you can get it.

After a drink, I decide it's time to spring the gift on the girl (who is sitting beside a potential beau) and prepare myself to RUN, jump a fence and dive for the car. I will give her credit, she didn't whip the box right out of the bag, but moved the tissue paper around, looked up at me, looked around the table and said... oh... then..."where are the batteries because I know you have a ton of them!" Touche, young one, touche!

The guys all thought it was awesome that we did this, although no one was surprised that it was I who had to go to the store and not coworker two! I'm big city, ya know. After a while, discussion ensued (and yes, we all voted the "Dolphin" a users choice award) and then we all agreed that we did NOT want to know how well the birthday gift worked (at least the women didn't... I don't think the men could stand up at that moment). The gift giving worked out MUCH better than I thought (I envisioned tears, swear words and food being thrown).

So I shall repeat... never tell me that you don't have "xxx", because that, my friends, is how I interject sex toys (or "xxx") into a conversation with several co-workers, a few strangers and two serving persons! Never let it be said that I don't share the love!

The Tail of Two Pussies! (OR, OMG, all I have to write about are my cats!)

Original? Nope. Slightly off color? Of course! You would expect nothing less than for me to use the word Pussy in as many inappropriate ways as possible. I aim to please.

Beware, this blog is a lame excuse to use the word pussy way too many times.

I promised myself I wouldn't get another pussy until I was sure that it would be the best thing for Rocky. I just didn't want any more chaos and upheaval in her life! Or mine for that matter. My ability to love small furry pussies was really put to the test when Sammy died. Having another just wasn't for me!

I call BULLSHIT!

I came home after spending the Memorial Day Weekend in Minnesota to find a stray kitten on my door step. It was a sweet little black kitten who clearly belonged to someone. The first night, I tried to ignore her and went to bed. The next morning, here she comes, apparently having slept the night under the neighbors porch. She followed me around the yard, across the street to the neighbors and every morning she was there. By day 5, I was feeding her and petting her and I believe it was day 6 that Lea in SC named her and I was hooked. However, I just couldn't bring myself to bring her in the house.

About this time, the landlord FINALLY decided to finish the driveway and put the apron in so I could stop parking on the street. Seriously, this was a big deal! They were also doing little odds and ends in the house. I reminded them several times, do NOT let the cat (singular) out of the house. Well, here comes little Bella, hanging around the door and they figure... oh shit, we let the cat out. From what I hear, they called my office, couldn't get me, called a few of the people I worked with and finally got my friend in HR who said, "Oh no, she only has ONE cat. The other one died." By this time, they had chased Bella around the yard, finally caught her and thrown her in the house. It was about that time I called them back and said, no, only one pussy for me, boys! In their alcohol stupor (I came home the 1st night to find beer cans in the yard!), they then had to find this black pussy somewhere in my little house. They got her out, but the neighbors thought they'd pee themselves laughing at the antics.

I then decided that I could only have Bella in the house if I took her to the vet and made sure she was disease free. I mean really! Who wants a diseased pussy in the house? It might contaminate my other pussy and then I'd be without my pussies and who wants that! Bella got a clean bill of health and the next day, I brought her inside to her own little room where she just slept and slept for 2 days straight.

Meet Bella, my second black pussy!

The vet figures she is about a year old, she is clean, no fleas, no ticks, she's spayed and now she has a new home. She likes moonlight trips to the bathroom and squeaky mouse toys. Her dislikes are shallow people and generic cat food.

I gave her the "box" room (get it? I kill me!) to live in the first week or so, and then I stressed every night that she and Rocky wouldn't get along. I didn't realize how right I was!

Poor Rocky! Someone new in her house that growls back. One night, we had a pussy stand off from across the room. Rocky behind the stereo speaker, Bella in the box room doorway. I had to turn the TV up because the pussies were hissing so loudly! Totally disruptive.

Every day, things got a little better, but Rocky still wasn't thrilled. One day, I came home to find this...poor little Rocky trying to suffocate herself in a laundry bag. I had read the warning label, but it only mentioned small children, not 9 year old pussy! I saved her and she had a treat and we all went to sleep.

One morning, I woke up to find this flying around my computer room like chicken feathers...That's not speckled shag carpeting (surprisingly!), my friends, that's black and gray pussy fur... from a real, all out cat fight! Oh yeah... my house rocks.

The pussies aren't exactly curled up laying together when I get home from work. In fact, yesterday, I had to take Bella to the vet for a split toe nail (claw?) and she came home doped up and attacked a brand new bag of deli rolls! But that's OK. I'm now a two (or is it three) pussy household. And I couldn't be happier!

Wow, Where have I been?? Oh that's right... F'ing Tornado Alley!

I see now that I really have been remiss in my blogging! Living in the country tends to make time move slower, traffic move more slowly, but the aging process is the same! Reality has a new perception (or is that perception is reality!) and I guess I've been busier (read: more LAZY) than usual! I still, however, have all my teeth. For a while, I thought not having them would be a prerequisite. Thank God it's not! We have dentists here, just no hygienists. True story.

I went to get my 6 months teeth cleaning at a dentist recommended by the lady I bought some furniture from. I walk in, thinking I'd see the hygienist and then the doctor would come in and it would be like all the other dentists I've visited in my adulthood. But no. The doctor actually did the cleaning. I, of course, had to ask... "do you always do your own cleanings?" to which he responded, "oh, that's right, you're not from here (haven't heard that 3 bazillion times in 7 months)." He goes on; "I've been in practice since 1984 and when we started here, the old time dentists always did their own cleanings. I thought I would continue that. But in 1995 I got me a hygienist(I didn't make that up). She's still here, but she's the only one we've been able to hire. They just don't come back once they go to the city for school". True story. I couldn't make that shit up. AND.. he didn't floss me. How weird is that?!?!

I am still obsessing about turning 40 in 3 months. And I still haven't sold my home in Indy. I have made a few friends, dropped a few acquaintances and generally acclimated pretty well. I've been to Omaha, where I foisted myself upon unsuspecting friends of a friend of a friend (thank you Chris), who then decided he'd meet me (thanks Kevin) and generally only knew me because of the cute little car I drive (now PAID FOR!!!)

I think the low light of the last 3 months was when I had a cookout with my neighbors and a coworker. All are in their late 20's, early 30's. The two girls have sons, age 10, so I was able to amuse the kids with Guitar Hero and PS2 games they brought. We generally had a good time during the worst heat wave I have EVER experienced. I hate humidity and I hate to sweat. Add that to having to socialize and play hostess and you had one hateful bitch (me) who had to change her top 3 times because she sweat through it. Hormones I abhor thee (or that's my claim!) This was also the evening where my neighbor announced he wanted to set me up with someone. As a rule, I am VERY leery of being set up. As a rule, dating in North Central Missouri is not at the top of my list. But I thought... eh... OK, I'll hear this. What the hell.

Someone remind me of my rules, please. Dude wanted to set me up with his DAD. And no, it wasn't a good thing, people. Not when I refuse to grow up.

Other than that, I did the Relay for Life in the town where I work. It didn't last 12 hours, there was no drinking (we did in MN!), and I think there may have been 12 walkers left at 5:30 AM. I was resplendent in my purple and teal madras plaid shorts complete with purple crocs for the pre-warm up mainly because...... I don't give a shit what people think. And also to bring some humor. It worked. They ask me almost daily where my ugly golf shorts are! Hey, I wore them to a baby shower too and I looked just as hot (without the crocs).

Right now, I'm trying to avoid going to any more amateur baseball games with friends. It's pitiful lusting over baseball players that could be your own child, for Christ sakes. I'm also lusting after my neighbor, but that's a whole other ballgame...LOL! He's renovated the house next door to me and now he's looking for a house to renovate FOR ME! Because I'm cool and he wants me to date his Dad. Actually, if I were truly the COUGAR I aspire to be, he'd be my pool boy. However, I can't afford a wading pool from WalMart right now, so it's pointless! Useful in fantasy, pointless in real life!

I also have an addition to the family, which I will blog about shortly... I must ease myself back into the drill. Plus I'm knitting another baby blanket. I'm living the country life, remember bitches? I've got mad skills.

Some People shoot for the moon....

I accidentally shot my neighbors the beaver this morning. And a very white moon as an added bonus.

I really didn't mean to.

I got so used to going into the mudroom/utility room in my night shirt some mornings, when it was dark out. I would get clothes out the dryer (come on... you know you do it too!) and then get in the shower.

I guess I forgot about DST or the fact that it wasn't overcast and raining. And off I went to get panties, no less, out of the dryer. And as I'm bending over, I realize... it's very light outside and I can hear a car running... and as I turn my head to the left, I can see said car very distinctly in the morning sun.

I snap to attention, so to speak, and look out the GLASS DOOR that leads to my utility room. The FULL LENGTH glass door.

I'm not sure they saw anything, and thank God it wasn't a Sunday (I don't discriminate on days I dress out of the dryer, ya know!) but I am surely going to have to find a sheer curtain for this window, or switch the way the door to the dryer opens.

Because I am NOT getting fully dressed every day before getting clothes out of the dryer.

Heee... TMI Tuesday.... played out in real life!

Time for a Laugh

I haven't been much in the mood to write. We're undergoing a computer conversion at work, and the hours I have been putting in have been excessive. But it's temporary, and that's all good.

I received this little ditty today, from a cousin. Much like Chris and his guinea pig video (I think) I will watch this a giggle for days to come!

A clarification

I felt the need to clarify my post yesterday. You know, restate like the newspapers do?

For the record, I contacted all references before she moved in. They all 3 gave me good references. Then... after the "incident", I contacted those 3 references again and one of them had, in the time between giving me a reference and my follow-up contact, been scammed as well. She, apparently, doesn't keep all e-mails and such, like I do, and had no way of getting hold of me. She didn't remember my name, etc. But, in her defense, all of this happened to her and I at approximately the same time.

And, that, is the round about way of saying... I'm truly NOT gullible!

Hi, my name is Gullible!

And no, that's not my stripper name!

There is nothing in the world as shocking as realizing that you are a complete and utter buffoon. And naive as hell.

What, you asked, has prompted this opinion of myself? Well, before I left on my wonderful trip to Omaha, I received an e-mail and phone call from a woman in the UK. She wanted a reference on the woman I had as a house sitter.

If you recall, on January 11th, I posted about making friends and finding good things (blah blah gag) and a whole load of OTHER CRAP that turned out to be bullshit because my house sitter lied, didn't pay me and abandoned my house around February 1st. That's just the short list.

I guess you could say I've neglected to update a few things lately, huh! Although if you read my facebook updates that weekend in February that I had to rush home, you probably would have wet your pants! Funny for you, a-fucking-amazing for me!

Anyhow, around February 1st, I quit hearing from my OCD house sitter who couldn't figure out how to turn the stove on (honest to Gods truth, a co-worker saw the text!). About the same time, she didn't send her "rent check" or answer the phone, return e-mails, texts or messages. Like any good home owner (which apparently I am lacking that trait) I called my neighbors and friends and asked them to check the house out. Clearly, no one was home, the house was locked up tight, but... to my amazement... all my stuff was still there.

Over the next week or so, until I could get off work and head out there, my mother says... "I hope she's not dead in the house" which just proves the fact that my family puts the FUN in dysfunctional just as well as the next family. I almost shit myself when she said this. For the love of GOD... just freak me out a little more, why don't ya.

I headed to Indy and by the time I got to the state line, I had been convinced by several friends and family members to have the police enter the house with me. I called the non-emergency line, fully expecting to be laughed at hysterically, but no... she was professional and courteous. And sure enough, two 12 year old boys dressed as police officers (I know, not nice) helped me to enter the house (I accidentally tried to go in before them and they just stood there looking at me, and I was like... oh, you should probably go first, with your flash light...and oh...nice piece.) and found all to be well and good. Nothing stolen (like I would know, I have so much SHIT in that house!) and nothing trashed. I got VERY lucky. And technically, I was only out the money it cost to rekey the house and get a new garage door opener. Very minimal.

I took it upon myself to contact the 3 references I had gotten and tell them my lurid tale after it all played out. Amazingly, one responded back that she, too, had been taken advantage of. They had been friends for 20 years and my house sitter tried to hook up with this woman's husband. Wow! Can you say unbalanced? Then I heard from the family of the house sitter, who wondered if I knew where she was. Uh, NO!? She disappeared, just like that. Gone... without telling her family. Of course, that was after she took money from them as well.

So, when I received a call from the lady in the UK, I couldn't stress to her enough to RUN... RUN AWAY from any business dealings with the notorious house sitter. And sadly enough, this lady had lost some big dollars, as she was about to fly her over to be a Nanny in the UK. No way in HELL I would let this woman near my house plants.

But I didn't know that in December. And when I talked to the police in February, they said I could only file a civil suit against her. Which made sense. She had broken a contract. But now... I'm wondering if there's not something that can be done because she went overseas and tried to scam this woman out of money. Just wondering.

And really, I feel gullible as hell. But it happens, right? And no, I don't want to buy your beach front property in Wyoming!