Oh that whoring Foxy. She has done it again!  You may remember some of her earlier shenanigans.  Well, she’s struck again!! 

Just this morning she asked to borrow a post it note.  Like the sucker that I am, I assumed that she was actually going to do something work related with it.  Oh how very wrong I was.  Witness her clever handy work.

Wait.  It gets better.  I sent 3D an email at work this morning letting him know what Foxy had done:

• Me: So that Foxy thinks she’s funny…She said I should take you to it and tell you, “This is who I am.”
• 3D: As if I didn’t already know that.  Your whoring knows no bounds.  Why do you think I fell for you so fast?

Sweet.  I see an alliance between Foxy and 3D forming.  I’m afraid.

Humor-Blogs.com

There are times when I want to strangle everyone in my family.  This is one of those times.  Both my mother and sister are silently begging me to wrap my hands around their necks and squeeze until their faces turn purple.  I might go head and do it.

I’m busy and important.  I’m the type of person that makes plans way in advance.  My mother and sister both know this.  They’re both aware that if they want me for something, that they have to make plans ahead of time.  You can’t just call me on Wednesday and assume that I’m sitting around with my thumb up my ass waiting around for someone to ask me to do something for the weekend.  That just doesn’t happen.

This weekend will mark the first weekend since 3D and I started dating that I am healthy and we’re both home.  We decided last weekend that we would stay home all day on Saturday and not make plans.  Saturday night we’re having dinner over at my mom’s house with the family.  For this Sunday, he asked me out on a date.  Of course I said yes. 

Now here come my sister and my mother all pissed off because I didn’t make time to help them do stupid ass boring shit. 

Yeah, sorry, sis that I don’t want to watch the kids while you fix up house.  Not exactly my idea of a relaxing afternoon.  Oh, and hauling a dresser and a table around isn’t relaxing either.  No, I’m not doing it.  If you want some help, then ask in advance.  You know that I make plans way ahead of time, this isn’t something new.  I happen to have my own life.  I know, it’s shocking, but it’s true.  Bt dubs, your efforts to guilt me into helping you are gold. 

And thanks, mom, for trying to wedge yourself in the middle.  Not sure if you noticed this, but both my sister and I are grown up and can resolve our own problems.  When I tell you to let us work it out on our own, that means that you should quietly remove yourself from the situation-not interject more and treat me like I’m 12 years old and force me into doing something that I don’t want to do.  Butt out. 

I know exactly what’s going to happen.  Exactly.  On Saturday night my mom is going to lecture me in front of 3D.  She’ll do this on purpose to try to make me feel small, and to try to get him to pressure me into helping my sister.  I will seriously beat her with her own shoe.  My other guess is that my sister will be Bitter Betty from here until then.

God how I “love” family sometimes.

Humor-Blogs.com

Update: As an added bonus, my mom just called me at work to lecture me on how I treat my sister.  Really?  I decided to be really mature about it and hung up on her.

How I’d like to get my hands on his funky bunch. 

I’ve had the hots for Mark Wahlberg since he was just a little tool singing lame hip hop songs.  He has always given me good vibrations.  Then, when his mug (and goods) appeared in those Calvin Klein ads, I just about lost my shit.

On this fine Tuesday, I present you with the hotness that is “Marky” Mark Wahlberg.

Humor-Blogs.com

This weekend marks a first for me: 3D took me home to meet his parents.  We’re midway through month 2 of our whirlwind romance and meeting the family seemed like a good idea.  He’s done an exceptionally good job of hiding how well his parents have done for themselves.  He apparently forgot to mention that his father owns a plane.  Oops, don’t know how he managed that.  Or that the kick ass house they live in happens to have a 5 car garage.  Yeah, you read that right, 5 car garage.  Material things don’t really matter to me (unless we’re talking Michael Kors and Chloe handbags), still it was a nice surprise to see that he was raised with some extra comforts.

His mother has impeccible taste.  The house and yard are seriously out of Home & Garden magazine.  Absolutely beautiful.  She has some of the most beautiful gardens I have ever seen.  There are gladiolas, lillies, and a bunch of other fancy flowers with names that are unpronouncable.  Their home is very much an oasis in the hills of Pennsylvania. 

I’m pleased to report that it went well, and I did a good job of not making a fool of myself.  At least not too much of a fool of myself.  Sure, there was a moment when I wanted to curl up and die on their lawn, but other than that, it went quite well.

Saturday night we were all gathered at the picnic table in his parent’s massive backyard.  “We” consists of both his parents, 2 sisters, 2 brothers-in-law, the niece, nephew, 3D and myself.  After a long day of being exposed to “country” things, it was time to sit down and have a relaxing dinner in the backyard of their estate.  This is where I showed off my grace.  I was getting up from my bench and I stumbled.  The stumble led to an all out panic and I fell back onto the bench, pushed the table-making all the drinks spill-then slipped sideways and landed with a giant thud on my side.  I landed right in front of his mother.

Oh, and I forgot to mention that I was wearing a skirt with nothing underneath.  I’m pretty sure that his mother was treated to a surprise sighting of Vageena Davis.  She didn’t say anything to me, but I could have sworn I saw her wipe a tear from her cheek.

Freaking embarrassing. 

Humor-Blogs.com

It’s hard dragging yourself out of bed in the morning when you have a hot someone trying to convince you to stay.  Still, I managed.  Sure, I was 20 minutes late to work, but I’m here now-and that’s what counts.  The slumber parties are working out well.  The crappy part is that I have to wake up first, and I roll out the door 1/2 an hour before he does.

This morning on my way to work, he called me all panicked.  He needed a belt and wanted to know if I happened to have one.  I knew exactly where my belt was, but I pretended not to.  Instead, I sent him down to the coat closet to pick up some jacked up belt that someone had left at my house. 

Why?  It’s simple: the thought of my belt being too big for him makes me want to bury my head in my hands and cry. 

You’ll be shocked to hear that as a girl, I have a distorted body image.  Yes, it’s true, I am not happy with my own body.  SHOCKER!!  Granted, I don’t make much of an effort (anymore) to eat right or squeeze myself into some gym clothes and work it on the elliptical like I did before.  Instead, I just stare in the mirror at my naked body and wonder why I have so many wobbly bits.  Dating someone that takes good care of himself only magnifies the things I hate about my body.

He’s a lean guy (with only 10% body fat), there’s not a single person in this world that would call me thin.  Fluctuating around a size 12 does not make anyone skinny.  I wouldn’t call myself fat either, but I am well aware of the fact that he only weighs about 7 more pounds than I do.  That, my friends, is reason enough to make me want to drink an entire bottle of bleach.

When he tells me that I’m “hot”, “beautiful”, or that I have a “slammin’ body,” I have to control myself so that I don’t immediately point my finger in his face and yell, “LIAR!”  I don’t see what he does.  I can’t really imagine what on earth he does see, aside from a jiggly girl that’s smitten as sin.  Apparently, whatever it is he sees, makes him happy.  Guess I’ll just have to find a way to live with it.

Here’s to a delicious bottle of bleach!

It’s finally over. 

After a year and some months of being together, the hot romance between Baby Tramp and Lit’l Smokey has finally ended.  Foxy and I, ever so supportive, are consoling him during these hard times.

• Me: You’re such a catch.  She’ll be sorry.
• Foxy: Yeah.  She blew a great guy.
• Me: More than once.

I’ve never seen anyone turn the shade of red that crept across Lit’l Smokey’s face after I said that.

Humor Blogs

It’s Tuesdays, my lovelies, and you all know what that means.  Time to objectify a hot hotty from Hottingham.  This week I hope to recover from last week’s unpopular posting.  I can’t believe that Red was the only one that agreed with my selection.  Boo on all of you.

This week, I give you a fine Scottish lad.  This one shouldn’t come as a surprise to you as I posted an open letter to him way back when I started blogging.  Ladies and boys who like boys, let’s take a look at Mr. James McAvoy.

Kids, if you haven’t gone to see Wanted, you must go now.  There’s lots of action, and several scenes with a hot and sweaty Mr. McAvoy.  He is hot.  Like fire. 

He burns me.

What is the true mark of friendship?  Everyone has their own idea of what friendship really means.  Well let me tell you what it means to me: friendship is about being in sync and sharing things with one another.

Using this definition, Foxy and I are true friends. 

You’ve all heard how women’s periods tend to sync up when they spend a lot of time.  There are plenty of us in this office that bust out the box of tampons at the same time every month.  But Foxy and I have decided to take it one step further.  This time around, we’ve decided to get yeast infections at the exact same time.  We’re such good friends.  We really are.  We might even go out shopping for Monistat together later.  Maybe afterwards, she can get a UTI and we can reminisce about all the fun times we’ve had over a delicious glass of cranberry juice.

That’s right, kids, another yeast infection.  Thank you antibiotics for the UTI.  Thanks for ruining my reunion with 3D last night.  No, really.  It was freaking awesome when he said to me, “You have white stuff coming out of you.”  So hot.  Yeah, I totally wanted lightening to strike me dead in my bed.

Here’s to the yeasties.

I can tell you exactly where I was a year ago today.  It’s a very special and festive anniversary, kids.  Know why? Because I was totally hitting it with Notebook.  Sweet, hot, fiery, and probably gay Notebook.  Lord that was a good time.  Sometimes I think it’s a shame that things didn’t work out.  Other times I why on earth I even thought that he was interested.  Sure, his peen wanted me (when he was hammered out of his mind), but that’s about as far as we got.

For those of you nosey readers that want to relive all of the excitement, I’m including the link so you can read all about it.

You know the really super part?  As fabulous as that day was, today is even better.  My encounter with Notebook was totally unexpected, and pleasant.  BUT, today I’m totally going to have cookies with 3D.  He sent me flowers, he’s coming home from his trip, I made a fabulous dinner, and we’re totally going to get naked and bump uglies. 

I’m so klassy.

Oh God.  I’m so freaking pathetic it hurts me.  So 3D and I are wandering into week 7 of our romance, and I’m totally enamored with him.  He’s out of town and we spent 4 hours on the phone last night.  4 hours.  I happened to mention that I loved getting flowers at work.  Guess what?  He sent me flowers at work.

I think my heart might beat right out of my chest.