Archive | July, 2012

The “Accidental” Booby Touch

9 Jul

It’s no secret that most straight men are pigs.  Many of them have figured out a very clever way to “accidentally” grab a handful of boob.  Some will rub up against you in a bar, others will pretend to brush something off your shirt.  Some are so bold as to not bother hiding what they’re after and will flat out palm your fun bags.  Said dudes are typically douche bags and should be avoided at all costs – unless you’re into being molested by assholes or are hoping for a free drink.

Biggie Smalls is pretty clever.  When he walks by you he may accidentally rub you with his elbow.  I’ve taken to crossing my arms in front of my chest anytime he walks by me now.

Well guess who got all handsy with me on Saturday?  My secret boyfriend.  Yeah, that’s right.  Pretty bold too since it was in front of his wife.  Yeah, yeah, some might claim it was an accident since I was passing him his newborn daughter when it happened.  Fingertips poking at my knockers.  Suave?  No, not so much.  But I almost dropped his kid and gave him a high five.

He immediately shifted positions and said, “well that’s not working, let’s try something else.”

Was it an accident?  Not in my mind. FINE!  To 95% of the people out there it’s an accident.  When I mentioned it to Biggie Smalls this morning he laughed his ass off and told me I was “an idiot”.  He then offered to show me what it would have been like if the dude had really been after them.  I promptly passed on his kind offer.

I hate it when my secret boyfriends are married and are in love with their new babies.

On the bright side, I did manage to leave his house with an awkward hug, a six pack of beer, and a $50 gift card.  That’s what I get for being so awesome.

I’m Melting

7 Jul

…but not like the Wicked Witch from Wizard of Oz because someone threw a bucket of water on her.  More like because I’m made of sugar and the sweat from all this heat is ruining me.  RUINING ME!

It’s too hot to move.  The act of getting up from my couch and going into the kitchen for another glass of wine is enough to make my sweat glands start acting up.  Not a pretty sight.  May also be that Ryan Reynolds shirtless in Amityville Horror is also triggering some of the heat I’m feeling.  Whatever, I’m blaming that bitch, Mother Nature.

Today is a perfect day to sit around and bitch about the heat all day while catching up on episodes of true crime shows and eating an entire bag of cookies followed by a bag of chips where no one can judge you because only you know what you’re doing.  And showering?  Forget it.  After all, your couch accepts you just the way you are.  Best part?  You can get hammered in the privacy of your own home in the middle of the afternoon and cry during “Beverly Hills Cop” and no one will ever know!

Too damn bad I have to leave the house today…

Why?  You ask.  Because I’m going to spend the afternoon with my secret boyfriend and a pitcher of white sangria.  Awesome!!

If only his wife and month old baby weren’t going to be there.  Damn cock blockers.

I’m as Fiscally Responsible as Barclay’s

5 Jul

Since moving to Philadelphia about two years ago I’ve made -$40,000.  That’s forty THOUSAND dollars.  American dollars.  Yeah, you saw that right.  I managed to pay $2400+ in housing for over a year.  My average monthly expenses for booze and food is about $800.  My average monthly savings is about -$200. I’ve done the math and it’s not good.  Pretty sure my high school math teacher is rolling over in his grave.  Sorry, dude-whose-name-I-can’t-remember-but-I-remember-the-ear-hair-you-had.

You can imagine my delight when my house finally sold this month.  Sure, it had been on the market for over a year, and sure, it was sold at a loss.  And sure, I had to dig money out of my IRA to pay to sell the house so my future is screwed forever and I have zero savings now.  But whatever.  As far as I’m concerned cutting my housing costs in half make me feel so much better.

The plan was to put that extra $1200 per month into savings.  Within a year I’d recoup the cost of what I spent and my savings would look much better than they do now (since they’re nonexistent).

So what did I do today?  I spent $300 on concert tickets so I can take Damien to his very first concert – for a cheesy boy band.  Woo hoo!  Best aunt EVER!!

Do I have my financial shit together?  No, I do not.  Do I have a winning personality and a great rack?  Yes, yes I do.  Am I the best aunt in the whole wide world?  You bet your ass I am.

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

3 Jul

It’s cute how half of you who voted think I’ve been getting it on like Donkey Kong with a doctor.  How amazing would that be?  [insert dirty music here] What lucky chick wouldn’t want to be doing a doctor in a gyno chair at the place of his work??  Dream come true, y’all!  And so now I will tell you all about the fateful first date and what’s happened since then…

Promising start: the plan was to meet at the steps of the Art Museum in Philly, take a walk down by the river, grab a bite to eat a restaurant near the water, and see where the night took us.  I’ll give you a second to swoon.  Go ahead, I know I did.  Cute outfit was chosen, hair looked good, and I was early.  Planted myself at the base of the steps, not too far from the Rocky statue, and prepared myself for what would surely be a fateful night.  And then I saw him.

As he approached I noticed three things: he was wearing man sandals, had dirty khaki pants with a GIANT ink stain on the right leg, and he hadn’t bothered to brush his hair.  “I can look past these things,” I told myself.  As I quickly too inventory I began the checklist of the things that would immediately have to be fixed once we started dating.  Then I noticed the hair on the back of his neck – not because he had long hair, but because it grew up from his back and shoulders.  I swallowed my gag and reminded myself it could all be waxed.

And then he opened his mouth and revealed something I couldn’t have prepared myself for – a freaking god awful lisp. Not the kind that makes it sound like you’re saying TH when you’re saying S, but the kind that makes you sound like Sylvester the cat and makes you spit all over the place.  “Please, God, let this be a joke,” I thought.  Nope.  No joke.  Legit lisp. Not cute.  Not hot.

I did my best to get past it.  I tried to get an awesome vibe from him and imagine what it would be like when we made out.  But his open mouth chewing at dinner, followed by an all out belch fest killed all the plans of our future together.

So, my dear friends, my plans to become the girlfriend of a doctor have fallen flat.  Once again I find myself hanging out on my couch, eating my feelings, and draining the box of wine in my fridge.

Where have I been all this time and what have I been doing?  Not a god damned thing.

How I wish I could tell you that I’ve been up to my ears in hot sex with a spicy hot doctor.  Or out on dates with a spicy fireman.  Or busy gallivanting around town.  Instead I’ve been clearing out the DVR wondering why the hell someone as awesome as I am is still single.

The truth is my amazing rack is going to waste.

Where in the world has Catherinette been?

1 Jul

I LIVE!  It’s true, I’m alive.  Now before I tell you how I’ve been filling my time, let’s see what you think I’ve been doing.