Savvy Suckers

My husband and I were watching TV (as usual) when one of my favourite cheesy commercials came on -- the Durex Savvy Lovers. Since according to the television people, I shave my hoo-haa, so therefore, I DESERVE the best sex ever. Well, doesn't that just go without saying?

Ahem.

Anyway, this time it aired — having been only 8 weeks since I gave birth and had my tubes tied (WOOT!) — I snorted and attempted to be funny by mocking them...

"Ha! They have to use condoms like suckers!"

My husband raised his eyebrows and rebutted with a tone of snark while he pointed to Little Miss Fussypants, who I was currently rocking on my chest...

"THEY ARE THE SUCKERS? ARE YOU SURE?"

Humfph.

Jerk.

Push it or not to push it

Here's a little song I've been singing to myself ever since I was told last week there's a good chance I could deliver this baby "naturally". I'm experiencing intense mixed emotions, for sure. Eik. Sing along, if you like -- I'm pretty sure you all know it :)

Ah, push it
Ah, push it

Oooh, baby, baby

A 9lb baby?!

The vaginal abyss!

Ow! Baby!

The decision's here!

[Now wait a minute, y'all

This pushin’ ain't for everybody

Only the flexi people

So all you fly mothers, get on out there and push

PUSH, I said!]

The decision's here, and the doc

Wants me to push it, babe

Always thought I’d get another C, so it’s a shock

The recovery time’s better, that we all know

But I didn’t overly want my hairy vaj to be put on show

To push it

Ah, push it - push it good

Ah, push it - push it real good

Hey! Ow!

Drugs are good!

Oooh, baby, baby

A 9lb baby?!

Yo, yo, yo, yo, baby-pop

Yeah, you -- don’t gimme a kiss

Better get me the drugs or else I'm gonna get pissed

Can't handle the thought of poopin’ too, like I know I could.

Don’t push it…

Or push it good

P-push it real good

Oh, shit.

The vaginal abyss!

Boy, you’re now gettin’ the snip

If I have to experience my lady bits rip.

Ah, push it.

Vagina on Fire

(Alternate title: The Antibiotics Lament)
Please feel free to sing this to the tune of Sex on Fire by Kings of Leon. . . 

Ya know, if you want.

--------------------------------------------

It's like my vaj's dying

I hope no one's around

I shouldn't be scratchin' 

But I'm scratchin'

Applying the lotion

The hubs wants to play 

But I'm cock blockin' 

Blockin'

Yaa-ho

My vaj is on fire

In the darkness of my valley

There'll be no foreplay 

This yeast is thrivin' 

It's thrivin' 

I'm really hopin' 

That Vagisil's on sale. 

It feels like I'm dyin' 

I'm dyin'

Yaa-ho

My vaj is on fire

Consumed

With an itch that is dire 

Hot as a fever

Down in my zone

Don't taste it 

What the fuck is wrong with you? 

It's not forever 

It's just my current plight 

I just had the greatest, 
The greatest. . .
Scratch of my life. 

Yaa-ho

My vaj is on fire

Yaa-ho

My vaj is on fire

Yaa-ho

My vaj is on fire

Consumed

With an itch that is dire

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I have also posted over at In The Powder Room! It's about trying to find gawd damn Wall.E toys in NYC (or anywhere other than eBay for that matter). Let's just say that it was good motherfucking times.

Oooh, you so trashy!

I had been held as a willing hostage for most of the weekend at various family events sans phone. I know, I know; there was definitely twitching happening on my part, much to my husband's delight. If it were up to him, I'm sure he would burn my phone, stomp on it, and then bury it 6 feet under. Don't get him started on The Twitter. Oh, yes.

Anyway, so I just found out that this poor woman that was attempting to get photos of herself in her wedding dress slipped off some rocks and sunk to her death. (Thanks for the link, Shelly) And I got to thinking that surely this ill advised woman had not seen the movie The Piano. I mean, really... however dry and painful it was to watch, that movie teaches you three very valuable lessons: 1. Kids are assholes and are not to be trusted. 2. Don't always dismiss the weird dude; he's usually great in the sack... and 3. Corseted dresses are really heavy and if you wear them in water, you will fucking drown.

I had to write an essay on that god forsaken movie in University, does it show?
I would never kid about such things.

Anyhow, yes. It's very sad that that woman met her early demise under those circumstances; it's all fun & trains... until you die. Ahem. That aside, I searched the term "trash the dress" and I was both amused and horrified as to what brides (and some grooms) request for this bizarre trend of fucking up your dress after your wedding.

Here's some of the ones that I love to hate the most, and I took the liberty of adding what I'm SURE they're really thinking...

Yes... that.

As a side note, although some "trash the dress" photos can turn out quite lovely (not these ones, obviously), I still feel like instead of ruining hundreds (or thousands) of dollars worth of dresses on a quirky photo, how about donating it to The Bride's Project instead? There are many brides that would have loved to use these dresses that get ruined for fun, plus all their proceeds go to fighting cancer.

Just a thought...

And I shall be a champion.

Before I begin, I should perhaps note some kind of disclaimer so I don't get hell's fury rained down upon me.
Texting while driving is bad; don't do it.

OK, now that THAT is over...

I think they're right to make texting while driving illegal because most people can't do it properly. I mean, come on, I remember when car phones first came out (actual portable ones, not the ones from the 80s) and people couldn't even talk and drive - AND THAT IS WHEN THEY STILL HAD BOTH EYES ON THE ROAD. I often wondered if those people had trouble eating and breathing at the same time. Life's tough for many, I know.

Just like only certain people who are really good at driving fast are allowed to do so on a race course as a competitive sport, I think there should be a "distracted drivers" circuit... and of course, I would be the Mario An-fucking-dretti of said circuit, just with nicer boobs and my penis is detachable.

Here is my proposed course and the particular challenges, of which all of them I would ROCK. Hercules can take his 12 labors and push them out his coccyx. Here's where it's at...

1. Off to a good start and then WHOA! I see you, first corner. You're of no consequence to me.

2. Motherfucker pulled out from a hidden driveway. Yeah, I saw that right in between my texts of "yr so funny" and "c u soon".

3. LEFT TURN. Switched the phone to my right hand as I crank that wheel and text like an ambidextrous rockstar.

4. School bus stopped to pick up kids. How could I NOT see that giant yellow bus. Fucking amateurs.

5. I laugh in the face of a roundabout. See? I just texted: "LOL" while going around it.

6. Stop light? Well, we're on a course, so I'm just going to go ahead and ignore that one, mmmk?

7. Cyclists! Your attempt at thinking you're equal to a motorized vehicle is amusing. If you had your mobile on, I would text, "Go fuck yrslf in the bicycle lane" as I drive past you at twice the speed.

And yet, through my anger, I maintain focus and no less than two bars on my 3G network.

8. Thirty year old skateboarder?! OK, so I just took him out, but that was on purpose. Deduct points, if you must. I shall come back after the race and wrap an Element t-shirt around the poll with a wreath, and simply write, "Sk8r 4eva".

9. Oh, what's this? A rail crossing? I'll speed up and fly over that shit with my gigantic beast of metal and car seats. 

10. Wow, that's a tight one! (That's what he said). And yet, although violently laughing at my own joke, I handle that corner with ease as I text to a friend, "Yr gonna love this 1. Ha!"

And after much wailing and gnashing of teeth, I'll win the race - and they will pour breast milk all over me as I hoist the trophy over my head, (but it would be the pump n' dump breast milk crap from a woman that did a shit load of vodka & Kahlua shots the night before, so what's being poured all over my body is essentially a White Russian).

Like I would take viable breast milk intended for an actual baby. Pisshhha. I'm not a monster.

But still...the moral of this story? IS THAT I WIN.

My (Not So) Deep Thoughts

I've wanted to catch up by doing one of these even more narcissistic posts that shamelessly intertwines my twittersphere with the blogsphere, so I'm finally getting around to it - mostly because I'm so gawd damn excited about the Vibration Studio moving in 2 blocks from my house that I can't think of anything else! However, I'm going to go by popular demand, rather than my personal favorites (which are, to my surprise, very different). I'm sure this would explain why I'm usually laughing at myself, by myself... but whatever.

These are the top ten of the most very deep thoughts and/or observations that I have produced over the last little while. Jack Handey? More like Hack Shmandy, am I right?

Just kidding.

I love you, Jack.

The scary thing is when I just read these back to myself as a single, scattered train of thought, 

I couldn't help but become increasingly self aware that... yup, this is me, all summed up.

I'll keep this post in mind for future reference if I ever need to do a summarized evaluation 

character sketch on myself.

My brain deserves a slow clap.

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Hey! I'm also In The Powder Room, talking about little boy penises again. Total coincidence, I swear. Come over and send some comment love for the quirky mommy version of me.

She's kind of nuts too, hence referring to myself in the third person.

Effective Marketing? Heck, yes!

It's often the little details in life that make us the most happy, and today was one of those days. 

Why? Because I found these in a hidden gem of a local shop. 

Yes, probably.

If I had one, I sure would!

Well, fuck. That just goes without saying.

OK. HOW AWESOME ARE THOSE? I know you can pick up 5 bottles of generic hand sanitizer for a buck, but my gawd, the packaging makes it almost worth the 400% mark-up. I am, however, a cheap ass motherfucker, so I didn't buy them. I thought my stealth photography was enough.

BUT I DID BUY THESE. 

I consider them a package deal - a crazy mental health package, if you may.

There's an "I'm savin' up for some therapy!" bank, a "Happy Mood" supplies box,

and the pièce de résistance? CHILL PILLS. These may just be the best ice cubes ever! 

Can you just imagine having these floating in your booze while you drink your worries away? 

Just me? Doubt it.

And that is why I'm giving this mental health package away! 

Leave your best idea to continue this hand sanitizer series in the comments.

Foxy over at Fox in the City is going to be my honorary co-judge, so it won't be entirely biased. Yay! 

I hope to get some good ones - and I'll use my deviant photoshoppin' skills to create the best ones.

Come on - I know you're thinking of one right now...

I cannie believe it!

Ooooh, Gerard. You sure know how to talk to this lady.

And I accept.

Thank you, everyone that had come and gone, come and stayed, or just come -- 

all because of the smut vomit I have produced over the past 300 posts. Thank you, thank you.

I'd like to think I've written some good shit and that it has become a lot better since post #1, but on a purely superficial level, here are my top 3 "Fuck yeah" moments thus far.

3. When I randomly wrote a post about one of my favorite movies and the band that did the soundtrack to it. About a week later, I got a huge comment from THE MOTHER FUCKING LEAD SINGER. That was pretty fantastic. Yay, Amanda Kravat. You are wonderful! Her songs have meant so much to me for a very long time and still get me through rough times even today.

2. When I wrote a fictional post about Jeremy London because he's great jokes on Twitter, and I finally convinced him to take a photo for me saying that he loves Cunt Dragons. How much did my heart soar? Through the gawd damn roof, bitches!

1. I wrote and directed a music video based on stories that I have written for this blog. Did you hear? Oh, yeah... just in case I haven't whored it out enough. Because, really, how much whoring IS enough? It's really a grey area...

The Lie of Happiness: An Illustrated History

I have put session number two of my journey into Crazytown in the bag. Done and dusted. There are so many little stupid things, (along with some fairly major things, I'll admit) that when added all up, seem pretty fucking over-whelming. The longer I talk to other women, both my own age and many from my mothers generation, and even my 90 year old grandmother, it is becoming clear to me that it's not such a new symptom that I originally blamed on this "hyper generation". We have always been miserable and slightly insane, but it's only until recently that we have been willing to share and admit to these feelings.

In short, Mrs. Cleaver was full of shit. She was probably in the kitchen popping Prozac while cleaning up after the Sunday roast she so meticulously prepared as a result of her raging OCD. Just take a look at Bree Van de Kamp - unraveling at the seams of her panties, but her pearls have never hung more perfectly.

We are all a little messed up in our own special idiosyncratic ways. It's just a measure of how much of ourselves we admit to others and expose our vulnerabilities. That's what Twitter is for, right?

Anyways, here is what I think these women were REALLY thinking...

"I've been married 3 times and still never had an orgasm; this is why I drink." 

~ Muriel

"That shower is way better than him. Every time."

~ Ruthie

"I'm going to stick my head in the oven tonight. I mean, say 'Cheese!'"

~ Audrey

"I hate vacuuming, like, seriously fucking hate it, motherfucker."

~ Beth

"I just gave him a blow job, not because I liked it, but because I'm bored."

~ Judith

"I'm so fucking horny that even this cactus is turning me on."

~ Connie

And I guess I shouldn't leave out this guy either:

"Sex with my wife makes me ill. I try to imagine she's Ben from next door."

~ Jerry

And now I have the urge to watch gay porn and eat ice cream...

Sweaty... what?

Guess who had a birthday?

Here's to also wishing everyone a fabulous holiday.  See? Birthday AND festive wishes in the same post - I'm a mutherfucking cheapskate, right? Deal with it, yo! (Yes, I mean you... and you, but not you.)

I will be currently experiencing a severe meltdown, as it is my very first year hosting both Christmas and Boxing Day dinners. Pray for my family that I don't poison them all, because, really, they're probably fucked.

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Photo Source: The Feisty Goat Pub

Christmas is coming...

Christmas is coming,

My ass is getting fat.

The kids have all gone mental

And the dog just shat. 

I'm oddly rather horny —

Just a quickie shag'll do.

If you can't put out for Christmas

Then really, fuck you.  

Christmas is coming,
I don't mean to be a crank,
But get your shit together
And then I want a spank.

There's so much crap to do
And I hate to be so blunt.
But after all the chores are done
You need to lick my cunt.

Your folks are staying over —
A tiny piece of Hell.
I think I've more than earned
For you to ring my bell.

This time of year is when
I really start to twitch
'Cos Christmas is coming...
Ain't she a lucky bitch.

Jeremy's New Filmography

If you are just tuning in to the Jeremy London series, you might want to rewind to the first and second installment... or don't... whatever. Also? It was Jeremy's birthday, so this also doubles as a slightly belated birthday present to the big man.
MY FULL SUPPORT, BRUTHA -- HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
Now, roll out the fiction...

Lady Estrogen (that's me, yay!) has been working diligently trying to get Jeremy into some big projects over the past few months. She's not overly good at her job, but dammit, she tries. Jeremy humors his struggling agent, but mostly because he can't be bothered finding a new one. Lady E is relaxing at a booth with red leather seats. She has a portfolio case sitting on the table and she sips her coffee as she eagerly waits for Jeremy. He enters the café and spots her, giving an unimpressed nod that he has seen her and approaches.

Jeremy London: Hey. I got your text. What was so urgent? I have a busy day today.

Lady Estrogen: Sure you do.

JL: Real nice.

LE: You know it comes from love, Jeremy.

JL: What do you want?

LE: I've had a breakthrough! I'm so excited - sit down... please.

JL: Ugh. Fine. You have 5 minutes.

LE: I love how you make time for me.

JL: The clock is ticking.

LE: Okay. Okay. Look, I want to spice up your filmography a teeny bit. I think it might do well to beef up your resume. I mean... we all do it - why not actors?

JL: What do you mean "beef up"?

LE: I got some random movie posters and I've added you to them!

JL: You can't do that! That's just fucking lying. You're ridiculous.

LE: They'll get lost in between your authentic jobs. Like I said, it's just filler. See? Here's the first one I did...

JL: GANGS OF NEW YORK?

LE: Wuh? You've heard of it?

JL: Umm, yeah. It's a pretty big movie.

LE: Huh. Never heard of it.

JL: Go figure.

LE: I think you just mocked me, but I'm going to rise above, Jeremy. RISE ABOVE.
   OK. How about this one? Titanic? You like tits, right?

JL: TIE-TAN-ICK. It's another big fucking movie. And? It won, like, 10 Academy Awards.

LE: Wow. I really need to take a trip to Blockbuster.

JL: That's fucking closed, darling.

LE: WHAT THE HELL? Are you serious or just fucking with me?

JL: I never fuck... with you.

LE: Well, you're missing out, but anyway, how about this one? You can't tell me THIS one was a big hit. It's from a while back, so I used one of your younger photos.

JL: What the hell is wrong with you? What movies HAVE you seen?

LE: Well, Mallrats... at least most of it, anyway. They lost me with the whole "a schooner is a sailboat" realization. What a mind fuck THAT was.

JL: Also... Why the hell is my head so damn big?

LE: I don't know - I matched it up to the dude's head underneath. I guess his head was big too.

JL: You mean LEONARDO DICAPRIO?

LE: Who?

JL (rubbing his forehead as if he's getting a migraine): Really?

  Actually... all of these posters have you replacing him with me. Did you notice?

LE: Total coincidence. Is he the orphan from Growing Pains?

JL: That detail you know, but Titanic you don't?

LE: I heard Kirk Cameron is selling bibles or some weird shit like that. Now that's def-in-ite-ly not the Kirk Cameron I masturbated to as a young girl.

JL: Wow. Have you been huffing glue?

LE: I don't think so. Why? Do you know many glue huffers?

JL: THAT was an insult. And your time is soooo up. 

(Jeremy is getting up out of the booth and adjusting the collar of his jacket)

I don't think I'll be needing your "ideas"... EVER.

LE: Wuh-wuh-wait. So, it's a 'No' then?

JL (with a look like someone just shit in his mouth): It's a big motherfucking NO.

By the way, don't text me again. If I need something, I'll be in touch.

LE: I'll reduce my services to only 7 PERCENT. How'd that be? I'll get you a limo! A nice stretch job with a TV and a bar! How's that sound?!

JL (He doesn't look back as he walks away from the booth): Don't care! Don't call!

LE (whispers dramatically to herself): I will win you back, Jeremy. 

(yells across the café): I WILL WIN YOU BACK IF IT'S THE LAST THING I DO!

De Heinz Intervention

You know what's worse than one sick child? Two sick children. I know I rarely make it a point to discuss "mother" crap on my blog, but FUCK ME. I can only be barfed on so many times before I begin to feel like a fraternity gang rape victim.

I sent out this tweet yesterday:

It was a reasonable success; appreciated by many.

Here's the catch.

If you remember what it spelled, everyone that mentions it in their comment will be entered to

win something from my shop -- your pick! Cunt dragon mug, Trooper t-shirt, Bajino Poster, you decide.

If you need help, here's the proof. See if you can make out what it spells:

"De Heinz Intervention"

The Penis, Explored.

I would like to take this opportunity to set the record straight about a time honored misconception about "the smell". Women everywhere have/are always painfully self-consciously aware about their womanly scents. Sure, once we enter into a long-term relationship, that relaxes a bit, but we still make every effort to keep the garden fresh... particularly if we're going to want to wave in the man to do some playing in the garden... head first. Ahem.

I've always been a bit of a fusspot about this. If a shower is not an option to do a full taco flush before some oral sex activities (which I'd obviously prefer), I would at least cup some water in my hand and give myself a little whore bath.

Oh, yes, I do.

What has always amazed me is the complete LACK of fusspot'ness from men when the same favor is about to be returned. I mean, really... my face is about to be buried in your crotch - a face that contains all of the senses and can experience things simultaneously (whether we want to or not). One nudge for a blow job is given and, wham! The bologna pony is out of the gate like a shot - no hesitation.

Things that should be questioned are:
When was the last time you showered?
If it was today, have you done any heavy lifting or perspiration-causing activities since said shower?
Have you had the trots today?
How long since you had a pee? And, did you shake well?
Did you have asparagus for lunch? Or perhaps beans?

These are important questions, people!

I've devised some definitions to explain these issues that, as a seasoned cock-sucker (see, that's not always used as an insult), I have come to be made unpleasantly familiar with.

The No Tub Chub
Either he hasn't showered in more than 24hrs, or his manly musk is packing a punch, suggesting that a wash would be beneficial to both of you.

 The Sweaty Dipstick
Slightly related to No Tub Chub, but focusing more on texture than smell. There is something really off-putting about a guy's meat n' veg being overly, umm, moist upon first contact. Eww. Get a pat-down there, champ!

The No Shake Trouser Snake
I think a lot of guys take for granted the importance of the post-piss squeeze and shake. I get it - they've been doing it for so long, it's not even thought about anymore, but please, if there is a possibly of getting a blow job in the immediate future, give it a second, or even third thought, because having the first mouthful of dick taste like urine isn't exactly a motivator.

The Hint o' Stinky Winky
There it is, when going more and more south... the lingering hint of his excrement. Fucking hell, man.

And, a special shout out needs to go the crowning glory...

The TeePee Nuggets
Sadly, this is not even an isolated incident or guy. While exploring the more under-parts of a man's business WITH MY MOUTH and discovering dried on pieces of toilet paper on his sack. Com'on, dude! That's what the Loofah Scrub is for - they make them long for a reason. The worst part is that I didn't even skip a bob. I just flicked it off like a fucking trooper... every time.

So, the next time a woman is feeling slightly self-conscious about her business right before impending oral sex, just remember, he doesn't exactly smell, or look, or feel like roses either.

The X-Factor revealed!

WORLD EXCLUSIVE! 
Brace yourselves, people!
OK, so it was 4am and I had 7 pints of cider and long since lost my voice
from attempting to talk over the horrific 80s rock cover band. It took me 3 days to recover.
And, well... I'll let the rest speak, or rather, sing for itself. Ahem.

It has occurred to me that since Adele is currently suffering from vocal cord hemorrhaging
(which is truly a terrible thing), this rendition might actually be a lot more accurate than originally thought.
I'm going to hell, I'm aware of that. If anyone wants to join me down there, just know that I'll be the fucking headliner!
Owe, indeed.

PS. All of you bitching about me doing a vlog, you can now shut it, because this is the best you're going to get.

Five Funny F*ckrz

I have noticed one thing over the last year and a bit while visiting other blogs - once I read them... once we all read them, there are gone the next day, added into the blog pile archive. I find this a little sad, because it's obvious that people put A LOT of effort into theses posts/features. I really wish I had started this earlier, but I guess it's better late than never, right? It's not going to be regular, but I'll start a running tally and whenever I get to 5, I'll post them.

Here are 5 things that I really had a good laugh over; I feel like it's only right to give them an extra pat on their backs for their spectacularly funny shit! Actually, screw the back patting; I'm more of a congratulatory smack on the ass kind-of-girl - so let's go with that. SMACK! Way to go, funny fuckers!

1. bigwords: The Tampon Revolution: Top 7 Ways To Modernise Tampons
It starts off guns blazing even with the disclaimer:
* Warning this post contains the word tampon. It may offend some people who don't use them.
For the record, I vote for Penis-shaped.

2. Comediva: I'm a Girl and I'm Funny, Yo
I want to be them when I grow up. True Story.
"Do my routine - it kills! There's no dispute. Oh, and I got a dog, ya; he's fucking cute!"


I'm a Girl and I'm Funny, Yo from Comediva on Vimeo.

3. Midget Man of Steel: I Google Alphabetically
I really don't know what's funnier - the weird shit that people type into Google OR the smart ass comments from Moog. It would at least have to be a 40/60 split. It's all hilarious! Also? I'm convinced that he does not work while at "work" - even less than me - and that is saying a lot.

4. I'm Gonna' Kill Him: Textual Healing
Some insightful shorthand texting that would be helpful to any good marriage. I know I'm going to have to teach my husband a couple, if not all of these gems. My personal favorites:

HIM: SFC? (Stop for Condoms?)
YOU: NSFIC (Nah, Stop for Ice Cream)

HIM: AYSM? (Are you spending money?)
YOU: LTAWIS (Let’s talk about what I’m saving)

5. Toy With Me: Exactly Like That Scene in Pretty Woman. Only Totally Different
Yes, exactly because it happened to her, and NOT to me. My favorite excerpt:

"I looked a little bit like Helena Bonham Carter
and not in a fun, Bohemian crazy lady way, but in a Bride of Frankenstein on
crystal meth kind of way."

It's hilarious because I've got that visual in my head and it's super sexy, yo! It is a bit odd that she sports that look in a lot of her movies, now that I think about it, but I won't digress.

Have a fantastic weekend, party people!