humor, relationships, Uncategorized

Cockamamie BooBoo

See? Totally sweet and doe-eyed… *wink

I’m a good girlfriend. Sometimes I go needy and want that cuddle crap; but, even I know when to shut that shit down and go YOLO into my work and steer clear of “boys night out.” That’s right. You heard me. I said YOLO. Judge me all day. I can take it. I AM a good girlfriend… except for that one time he had to duck behind the serving counter to avoid a teapot to the head. It wasn’t a BIG teapot. Just regular sized. Hey, we all have our moments. And not all of those moments can be shiny and bright. Like stainless steel. Like that teapot.

Booboo’s friend was recently dumped-or he dumped her-I don’t know, it really doesn’t matter who dumped whom. This fellow is single again and I almost got a bed out of it. But I didn’t.  A king size bed. There’s no bed. Anna’s Linens, here I come! No BED. Dammit. I didn’t get the king size bed. No bed? *whining*  But I was already shopping for 2,000 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets…WAH. But, since a man doesn’t always operate in hyper-mode like a female… Dude’s, Miss Ex-Thing, sold it off to some schmuck. Two eyelash battings before my partner-in-life got the, oh so imperative- “hey I’ll finally sleep in a bed” -text back to the guy. Time is of the essence. And essence was m.i.a. here. So, I’m still bed-less in Los Angeles. Somehow, this is building my character or something. This no bed thing. Couch surfing in my living room isn’t all bad. It’s an upgrade from the air mattress that’s for sure.

IDK anything about any -damn- sunflower seeds

Circling back to Mi Vida Loca, so the dumped lad gets a bed AND my chap. So I’m out a mattress. And freaking sexy time. Maybe I should give said boyfriend/pillowtop thief my hints on gardening too…. I mean, while he’s taking all my will to live away. I’m kidding. I have a will to live. Stupid box spring. Hmmm… Great idea though. Pumpkin seeds? Right now, I don’t like you, dumped person. Maybe an avocado seed? I should give you gardening hints… mostly because I have the gardening ability of a bull in a china shop. Take THAT, sunflower seeds. You won’t make it past the dirt. And three cockamamie sunrises from today, I look forward to my sweetheart showing up with a shiny new cozy hammock gift, in my office-home-atorium.

humor, relationships, Uncategorized


*insert James Bond music here*

TWO THINGS come to mind when dating. 1. Keep the crazy bottled up. *Insert tasmanian devil whirling around here.*  And 2. Shed your long beautiful strands of hair everywhere. Absolutely. Everywhere. Shed? Did she say shed? Like a dog, shed?  Yes. Yes I did. What the hell does that have to do with dating? Hear me out. Shedding in your man’s car, bed, bathroom are must DO’s. This is called ho-proofing your relationship. And it isn’t as maniacal a task as it sounds. Uh, you sure? Or bat-shit crazy. It’s totally crazy. Stay with me… Statistically, we lose approximately a hundred hairs a day, right? Give or take. I feel like I lose more than that when I take it to the shower; but, enough about me. 

Girlfriends of mine are always coming to me, whining about their man and if he’s cheating. Driving themselves insane with internal dialogue and worrying themselves sick over “what ifs” and maybes.” Well, I came up with a solution. Drink to numb the pain? No. I’m pretty laid back. Drown your sorrows at the deep end of a pond filled with pirhanas? Uh… I’m not that laid back, and um, no, don’t do that. My theory is, if your man is going to cheat… You can’t stop it, control it or follow him around incessantly with a hat and sunglasses. Chances are, he’ll catch your Audrey Hepburn disguise faster than you can say, “I’m late for my breakfast at Tiffany’s.”  But ladies, you can brush the heck out of your hair and let your luxurious locks do all the work….

Wait a minute… I have a plan!


1. Brush your hair: In his bed, car, bathroom, breakfast nook… wherever you can find a place to target your tresses.

2. Any cute curls laying around will definitely make a ho, who’s entered upon your territory, second guess your douche-bag dude’s bad intentions. Although, if she’s a ho, she might not care anyway and play in his romper room regardless. Maybe I’m not being so helpful…

DISCLAIMER: For amusement only. Any ideas found in this post will likely cause arguments, insecurity and drama. Use with caution or manipulative intent. Or rather, dismiss entirely.


Stalker Envy

Just here. Being lazy… NOT stalking anything

Let’s give it up for those individuals who really commit to stalking their prey. Or “loved one.”  It really takes a special kind of crazy to keep a tail on a woman. Or man. That’s just a lot of energy I don’t have to give in my “things I could do with my energy” bank. Raise your hand if you’re laziest stalker ever… Here! Present!  I mean, I’m the worst. But, I guess if you’re going to fail at something, stalking might be a good thing, at which, to suck.


Though, I digress and start to wonder if maybe I gave off the stalker vibe a little better than previous notions on a recent trip to my local grocery store. Apparently, I was exuding stalker-like qualities and made this guy nervous. Ah, reality bites. Ok, here’s what happened. There’s this cute guy that works in the produce section. He always happens to be there when I need to shop but it’s not a planned encounter. It just happens. I see him there whether I shop in the am, pm, random stops, need water, etc. You get the point. So he was there this morning and he recognized my predictably-dressed, casual and sexy, glasses-wearing nerd, shopping self and says hey. We exchange the “how you beens,” and social decorum whatnots, then I say flippantly, “I think I may be stalking your shift.” I laughed. I’m funny. He laughed. Awkardly. Maybe I’m not so funny. He looked around. Uncomfortably. Ugh, he ducked and totally missed getting hit with my humor stick. Crap. Where’s the vitamin aisle… Get me the hell out of here. Now he thinks I might ACTUALLY be stalking him. Perfect. Little does he know, I’m just too lazy to get up during commercials when watching my favorite show. When I had tv. Yes, it’s still cancelled for those of you who read my blog often. The no-tv withdrawals have subsided. Hence why I probably made the socially inept blunder to begin with. Can we get a round of applause! Shoutout to awkward public situations!

I see you! You can't  hide behind no damn bananas, fool! #pounce #groceryninja
I see you! You can’t hide behind no damn bananas, fool! #pounce #groceryninja

Maybe it’s being out of the dating game? Possible. Maybe it’s my hermit-like status? Book club, party of one, please. Maybe it’s the no television?! You’re a weirdo. I know. Regardless, my anti-soch behavior has got to change or I’ll keep ending up on the high alert, creeper list. There’s no list. Is there such a list? With my luck, there’s absolutely a list. And I’m likely on the damn thing. You’re definitely on it. Hush up, random vocal bystander. Well, if I wasn’t on the list before, I’m probably being added to it now after that apocolyptic encounter. Maybe I can fix this boo-boo with some heavy duty I’m Awesome Duck Tape… that’s what I’ll do. But, first I’ll need a disguise. Because there’s nothing more normal than that. Please don’t dress up as cat woman. But, it’s hot. No. Fine, I can put on a fake mustache. Or just skip waxing my lip this week. And as long as I catch grocery store hottie before he sees me, it’ll all work itself out. Unless he dives behind the organic bell peppers…