Things you Say at Christmas....

Things You Say At Christmas that make it a dirty holiday:

• I have a sex drive of a nine year old.
• I’m mounting tomorrow, 15 inches high into the stud.
• Don’t worry she won’t be black.
• Up against the wall you mfr.
• I like the real dark ones with big nuts.
• Once you go special dark you don’t go back.
• I don’t like dry nuts I like the wet ones.
• You need a nut experience.
• If you put nuts in a bush….
• He doesn’t know how to stiffen it enough
• I burned him off.
• I couldn’t let two women lick and suck me for 2 million $.
• I get spanked too.
• That was a really good blow
• You have to pull out the things.
• Full gas I am.
• I jammed it in here somewhere.
• You purposely put your hand there.
• Maybe next year I’ll twist it up.
• Show me your crack.
• It’s on display at the Smithsonian.

and a few more:

• I need the correct screws.
• Wow, ball finder glasses!
• We have difficulty finding the balls.
• Sometimes you can't watch the balls.
• I got my stroke counter!
• She needs her stroke counter to count my balls!

It's amazing how much normal conversation about christmas presents, cars, coffee, blowing your nose and cookies can seem so dirty!

Just Another Not So Typical Happy Hour

In anticipation to close out 2008 on a good note as I approach the end of December, I will give kudos to the eclectic group of Morris County men who approached me at the bar and it wasn’t even a full moon. To the one who wouldn’t buy the “I’m an accountant working at the hospital” line and walked away after I didn’t respond to his ‘we should go out sometime’ phrase. To the group of husky men in hoodies who bought me a Corona and unknowingly bought another one for someone else, because I don’t belly up to the bar to order 2 beers for myself. I liked the move the bald one made, who asked me if I wanted another beer after the two women he was talking to went to the bathroom. They were out in full force last night, going against the rules of men shying away from women during a holiday because they don’t want to get trapped in the gift buying, time spending spirit. And the drunk gal at the jukebox whose friend was looking out for her, I think her name was Andrea, I know she got home safe last night because her husband came to get her. Merry Christmas to all my friends and foes, drink and be merry, because we have to do this all again, next year!

All I Want for Christmas

I think this might be one of my last entries on this subject, but I have to air it out. Holidays suck big time for me, they always have as long as I could remember. I’m not a Scrooge, they just don’t have those same traditional meanings as the olden days. Since my parents got divorced when I was a teenager holidays have been stressful on me, having to choose where to go. Having to feel guilty that I didn’t spend Easter with this one, or Christmas with that one. It continued when I got married, but now I had three families to deal with. Over the years my family got adjusted to the holidays, maybe they became more aware of the stress it was causing my sister and I with traveling to see them and how we just didn’t enjoy the holidays anymore and that guilt in me subsided. They understood when Thanksgiving came along that I had chosen to spend it with Dad instead of with Mom, because I knew that the next year it would switch up. My father passed away a few days before thanksgiving four years ago and that will always be a reminder around that time for me. When I had three families to contend with it was a huge weight on my shoulders because I knew my family would understand but for some reason it was only one sided. And if your family can’t understand that you have a life with a significant other and have to share these same holidays with them and their families then there’s a problem. I admit I never put my foot down, never said anything about it and I am in the wrong for that. But I did sacrifice a lot and so did my family. So as Christmas rolls around for the 2nd year in a row, I no longer have to get up at any set time to be somewhere I never understood I had to be. I’m doing the same thing I did last year, and honestly it was one of the better Christmas’. To spend the time with my family, even if its for a few hours I’m learning now about these holidays is the cherished time. You don’t have to spend 12 hours with them, just cherish the moment. They will understand if you can only stay for a little while, even just pop in for dessert, they are your family!

And until the day arrives..all I want for Christmas is to wake up and open my gifts in my pj’s with that certain someone (wherever he may be) and create traditions of our own (and see the family later)!

Thank you…but no, I’m not 26

Just another night of ample people watching with the Angels, fashion disasters and boobies hanging out. A night of unexpected happenings after my phone rang and I quick changed from pjs to jeans. Had I worn anything less and more form fitting the bouncer would have not let me in, instead he would have gave me a free pass to an all-you-can-eat buffet to pack on some pounds. Men in horizontal stripes, argyle sweaters, navy blazers reminiscent of a yuppie yacht owner, All American Rejects hair knockoffs and girls that actually spend money on boots that won’t come back for another 20 years. Yup I had fun people watching, and feau kicking all the hobbit types that came down the stairs, oblivious to what was actually going on as most of the patrons at the establishment were. I started taking bets to see who would fall on my friend after leaning a little to the left on the way down, but I could have sat there all night, just taking notes and waiting for someone to pull the fire alarm. I will not give kudos to the ‘high five’ guy either, no matter how many beers you’ve had to make you believe you are cool…you are still an a-hole. And bar owners need to design bathrooms for men a little better, the view from the door opening all the time was not what I’d want to see, especially when us girls know…you don’t wash your hands.

Things You Don’t Say at Thanksgiving Dinner

..but do anyway..at least at our table

• I’m a legman, but I like the breast better.
• I don’t shoot nothin’ anymore
• I’ve been making love to trees all afternoon.
• The amniotic fluid was green. He was a miracle baby!
• Yeah, she likes the big nuts.
• The pie looks like poopy diaper.
• Can’t you smoke the funny stuff?
• I think that was the best poop I ever scooped!

Beyond the Crayola Box..

My personal life, a hidden tapestry of colors, is mine and only mine. I seldom let my readers and my true fans in on a little something, always for you to decipher and figure out exactly what I mean. Most of the time you don’t get it at all and that is my point. To make you wonder and guess if only at a hint of emotion that I might have at that very moment and for you to take it to another level and color your own story.

I choose not to name names in what I say here and only call out the ones who never called again, the scaredy cats, the ones who start something and never finish it. But not all hope is entirely lost. There is something truly magnificent about a genuine original, with no limits, being just the way you are, being the way he is for that matter. And that my friends is where I leave it to you to color between the lines with an unforgettable hello and a more than perfect goodbye.

My Therapy Rates are as Follows….

Just another Saturday night in stomping grounds that I don’t frequent often because of issues of the patrons but the people watching was at its all time high. Nothing like a John Goodman look-a-like in man-dals and shorts dancing to MJ, while his friends at the bar salivated over this one chick who had a lace top on. Yes guys we love it when you stare and not say anything, it’s typical of Morris County guys. And yes guys we love it when you walk over to us when your friends are at the bar getting shots…oh and I forgot to mention, your friends are girls. Hello…I swear Mr. Clean advertising for the Gap we aren’t stupid.

Besides wanting to hand block a guy who had no game at all in a bad shirt, the kicker had to be the session I had with a guy who’s ‘got a girl’. I was interviewed on what I wanted in a guy, what I was looking for…blah blah blah. This guy claimed he couldn’t figure out women. So I entertained him honestly, and he stuck around for more inquisition and honest answers. In my usual but completely honest voice I told him he’s dating some chick who is plainly screwing with his head and that if he’s not happy to move on. I don’t understand why men are so afraid to move on and be happy if they are miserable. Maybe its too much of an effort for them, just as it is to say “Hello” and not stare at us from across the bar.