Man... I really don't know how I used to do it. I don't know if I never really had anything interesting to say before and I just faked it, or if my life USED to be interesting and now it's not. But every time I sit down in front of the computer to blog, this is what I hear...
**cricket cricket**
Plus nobody is really reading anymore anyway (thanks to my ridiculous three month hiatus), sooooo... I appealed to my funnier half (no really, she's like HALF of me, LOL) to supply me with some topics to blog about. And the first of these is:
5 Inappropriate Places I Think About Sex
1. The nail salon. Ridiculous, no? But seriously, think about it. If your nail salon is any good, you're all relaxed into this cushy chair, Ming Na has massaged your neck and shoulders to within an inch of orgasm, and then... then you hear the drill. Now if you haven't had any in a while like me, then the drill reminds you of vibrators. And vibrators remind you of.... SEX!!! I rest my case.
2. The Holland Tunnel. Honestly, the Holland (or the HELL-and as I like to call it) isn't really the place for any kind of momentary loss of concentration. One false move, and you've plowed into the side wall, and there are 8millions metric gallons of dirty Hudson River water pouring in to provide you with a watery grave (complete with rats to expedite the decay process). But forgive me, sometimes I can't help myself. I am stuck in traffic just inside the opening to the tunnel and my mind starts to wander... and if you know me AT ALL, you know that the first place it goes is to sex. **shrug** What??? The tunnel is a phallic symbol.
3. The grocery store. This should be pretty self explanatory.. all the cucumbers and bananas and... hold please.
**running off to take a cold shower**
Okay, I am back. Really, though. What is more inappropriate than pushing a grocery cart up and down the aisles of the A&P and having to brace yourself against the Glory Greens to ride out the shockwave of an orgasm memory? Exactly, nothing. Inappropriate.
4. GYN office. Now this place is just plain wrong. While one would think that simply being on the gynecologist's table with your pants off and your legs gaped open while your feet are held hostage in a pair of leather stirrups would automatically place your libido on "hibernate," there's always an oddball in the bunch. And nothing, I mean NOTHING spells inapporpriate like the doctor saying "okay now I am going to press down here" and your back arches up like an angry housecat. Please do not think about sex at the GYN.
5. Church. I am pretty sure that I am going to hell for this one, but honesty is the middle name of this blog (actually it's "Of a Professional," but whatever...) When the middle aged woman with the tambourine welded to her left palm suddnly jumps up in the middle of the sermon and yells "HALLELUJAH!!!" I bet yall thought she was filled with the Holy Ghost Yeah... no. Number one, she isn't middle aged, she's 31 (middle age starts at 35). Number two, she's only holding the tambo because it's real owner is SOOOOOO obnoxious with it. And number three, it isn't the Holy Ghost she's thinking about being filled with....
**heh heh heh**
Okay, that woman is me.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Friday, April 17, 2009
The humpty dance is your chance to do the hump... do it baby... do the humpty hump come on and do the humpty hump. White people... Black people... Puerto Ricans... Samoans...
**giggle**
When he gets to Samoans, it cracks me up EVERY time. That song was on the radio when I got into my rental car in Phoenix... an old school hip hop station in the East Valley of Arizona... LOVE!!!! So I just got back from a much needed spa trip to Sedona, Arizona- good times were had by all.
Besides the unseasonably cold weather in the mountains (high 30s), it really was a wonderful trip. The food was good and healthy and the spa was DIVINE... just needed a couple more days... who am I kidding? Even if I had been there for three weeks, I'd still be complaning that it was too short, LOL
**giggle**
When he gets to Samoans, it cracks me up EVERY time. That song was on the radio when I got into my rental car in Phoenix... an old school hip hop station in the East Valley of Arizona... LOVE!!!! So I just got back from a much needed spa trip to Sedona, Arizona- good times were had by all.
Besides the unseasonably cold weather in the mountains (high 30s), it really was a wonderful trip. The food was good and healthy and the spa was DIVINE... just needed a couple more days... who am I kidding? Even if I had been there for three weeks, I'd still be complaning that it was too short, LOL
Friday, April 10, 2009
If You're Even Still Reading...
So I would like to say that this is what I have been doing for the past three months...
But let's keep it real... it's been a little bit more like this...
**sigh**
Well... whatever. Don't judge me... when I am idle, I cook. When I am depressed, I eat. Put the two together and you get... well you get bacon sweet potato hash and honey bourbon pork chops with red velvet bread pudding for dessert (not pictured, LOL). There has to be a better way... no, really... there HAS to be. Please tell me there is. Because between the unemployment and the fake ass spring weather and the fact that I am unofficially on the state (ask your hood ass cousin Kee Lo Lo if you aren't familiar with that term), I am two seconds from grabbing the plastic spork from KFC (again, DO NOT judge me!!) and ending it all.
KIDDING.
It's never really that serious. I have actually been instructed to view this all as an extended, much needed vacation... per my super wise sensai (read: La). And I kinda dig that- it's like a staycation (if you don't watch "In the Motherhood," go directly to abc.com and do so IMMEDIATELY. Do not pass go, do not collect $200). But as with all good things, it is starting to get a tad bit old... and it's only been three weeks. So I am working on something- got a little something cooking in the oven (and this time it is NOT butterscotch pie, it's an ACTUAL plan). I don't want to put a jinx on it, but please believe: this vacation will not last forever. Your girl is on the move, and very very soon **fingers crossed** it will all come to pass.
Sooooooo.... I think I might maybe kinda sorta perhaps be in serious sickening nauseating thought-consuming like with someone (read: he makes my heart sing). He's a good guy (even though every conversation we have somehow manages to include the phrase "you are NOT a nice man!")... tall, handsome, funny, smart... all that blah blah blah. I will spare you all the ridiculous details of how he came to be in my life... partly because I am old and don't remember and also because some of yall are nosy ass bastards and are too smart for your own good, LOL. But suffice it to say that I think he might heart me too and that fact alone makes the butt-shaped dent on my couch a little more palatable to sit in day after day. If all works out with the super secret high security clearance plan (read: my search for a new job), then maybe we can actually do the damn thing... we'll see.
But let's keep it real... it's been a little bit more like this...
**sigh**
Well... whatever. Don't judge me... when I am idle, I cook. When I am depressed, I eat. Put the two together and you get... well you get bacon sweet potato hash and honey bourbon pork chops with red velvet bread pudding for dessert (not pictured, LOL). There has to be a better way... no, really... there HAS to be. Please tell me there is. Because between the unemployment and the fake ass spring weather and the fact that I am unofficially on the state (ask your hood ass cousin Kee Lo Lo if you aren't familiar with that term), I am two seconds from grabbing the plastic spork from KFC (again, DO NOT judge me!!) and ending it all.
KIDDING.
It's never really that serious. I have actually been instructed to view this all as an extended, much needed vacation... per my super wise sensai (read: La). And I kinda dig that- it's like a staycation (if you don't watch "In the Motherhood," go directly to abc.com and do so IMMEDIATELY. Do not pass go, do not collect $200). But as with all good things, it is starting to get a tad bit old... and it's only been three weeks. So I am working on something- got a little something cooking in the oven (and this time it is NOT butterscotch pie, it's an ACTUAL plan). I don't want to put a jinx on it, but please believe: this vacation will not last forever. Your girl is on the move, and very very soon **fingers crossed** it will all come to pass.
Sooooooo.... I think I might maybe kinda sorta perhaps be in serious sickening nauseating thought-consuming like with someone (read: he makes my heart sing). He's a good guy (even though every conversation we have somehow manages to include the phrase "you are NOT a nice man!")... tall, handsome, funny, smart... all that blah blah blah. I will spare you all the ridiculous details of how he came to be in my life... partly because I am old and don't remember and also because some of yall are nosy ass bastards and are too smart for your own good, LOL. But suffice it to say that I think he might heart me too and that fact alone makes the butt-shaped dent on my couch a little more palatable to sit in day after day. If all works out with the super secret high security clearance plan (read: my search for a new job), then maybe we can actually do the damn thing... we'll see.
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