Living Wicked

Whatever Happened to Wednesday’s: Having a Ballsack

Apr 6, 2010 Completely Hypothetical and Generally Specific, Current Events, DUH, I Forgot to Tag, Out of Wicked's Mouth, Ranteriffic, Relationships, Suck It!, Whatever Happened to? Wednesdays, bitch 12 Comments

Welcome to WHtW!

Today I am gonna completely hypothetically and generally specifically rant about people who don’t have ballsacks. Women and men alike who lack the sack o’ ball.

So whatever happened to them? Seriously? It seems like people are so God damned afraid to say what they really think or feel in fear of judgment or … *GASP* making someone feel uncomfortable. It is everywhere. Politics. School. Work. Life. Relationships. The fear of “saying the wrong thing” seems to take over more than I have ever noticed.

I say fuck that. Grow a pair and tell someone how you really feel already. What is the worst that could possibly happen? They might not like you? Fuck it. If they can’t take a bit of honesty, then I would rather not have them in my life anyway.

The trick is HOW you say it. Savvy. Smooth. Saying fuck off with the biggest smile on your face.

Who could hate a face as cheesy as that!?

Having a ballsack can mean so many different things … depending on the situation.

It means that when you need to let someone off the hook … you just.fucking.do it rather than allowing them to remain on the hook thinking that everything is okay.

Having a ballsack means saying what you need to say. Not talking in circles, hoping that maybe they will get your drift.

It means taking complete responsibility for something. Out loud. Not in the privacy of your own home when no one can hear you.

It means understanding what having consideration for another person means.

Having a ballsack means that you are the asshole sometimes. But at least you are respected for being honest.

It definitely means that at the end of the day, you are always who you portray yourself to be. Or, at least 99% of the time anyway.

It means that when push comes to shove, you will lay it all out on the line simply because it is the right thing to do.

Furthermore, having a ballsack gives you the courage to know that sometimes, doing the right thing is not always liked by everyone.

Ballsack = Integrity
It also = Honesty
And = Consideration
Maybe a little bit = Asshole

All in all, having a ballsack can mean everything to someone. Even if your ballsack means little or nothing to you.

Just saying.

Would you rather someone lie to spare your feelings or tell you the truth? BE HONEST.
Jay Leno or David Letterman? Why?
What is your favorite song right now?

Shit and Stuff and Things

Mar 28, 2010 All Things X, Completely Hypothetical and Generally Specific, Family, I WIN!, Out of Wicked's Mouth, Out with the Old Wicked in with the New Wicked, Random, Ranteriffic, Suck It!, Thoughts and Perceptions, bitch 17 Comments

Welcome to a new week. I would say “Happy Monday” but fuck that. Idontwanna.

I hosted my grand opening Tupperware party this weekend! A big fat shout out to the ladies who came and supported me in trying something new. If anything, any extrah mooh-lah that comes from it will help pay for my shopping addiction.

Anyway, whether you are a Tupperware virgin or not … please take a peek on my website and see if there is anything that you simply would die without owning in your house. The closing for this particular party is on Friday.

WickedCourtni’s Tupperware Website

/end shameless self-promotion.

So I was laying here, after the aforementioned party … completely exhausted and a little sad that I had nothing left to distract me from all of the bullshit going on … I started FB stalking. Yep, I am an offender of silently stalking people that I would not really be interested in talking to ever, but am curious as to how their lives have played out. Whatever. I know that at least 90% of you have done it.

I landed on my H.S. Alumni list of peeps. Class of ‘97 WOOT WOOT! (totally kidding)

I came to re-realize a couple of things while checking in on these peeps:

1) I really hated high school. Like, H A T E D it.

I am pretty sure that my hatred for all things high school had everything to do with the fact that I never really was at a school long enough to build life-long friendships until the 9th grade. Even then it was a difficult thing for me to really fit in.

So, I said fuck it and was a cunt to pretty much anyone that looked at me funny.

2) I don’t recognize over half of the people I graduated with.

Thank god I am friends with the pretty people because there were some Fugly’s and Butterface’s in my graduating class. Seriously.

How did I ever get laid in H.S.?

Oh yeah. I had boy toys OFF campus. *winkwink*

So the other evening, Xavier comes rushing out of his room. He is known for his jokester ways, so I am always interested in his latest attempt at comic relief. (Like when he tried to get me with a whoopie cushion the other day. Little shit.)

He is out of breath. Excited. Animated. And he says:

X: “I have invented a knew move.”
Me: “A dance move?”
X: “No. A kung-fu move.”
Me: “Reeeee aaa lly.”
X: “Yup. I call it to-fu.”
Me: “Is that right.”
X: “Yup. It is a move that goes straight for the toe. Badum CHING”
Me: “Wow. HA HA HA!”

My kid. I wish he was always like this and not like how he has been with his bad ass.

Also, bug-a-boo’s are annoying. People who are just in your face with some shit that you just do not give a fuck about.

Also Also, Squishy is getting married soon and I am freaking the hell out about that fact.

Also, I am teetering on a bout of writers block. I need some suggestions on stuff to write about for my weekly’s: Honest Tuesday’s & Whatever Happened to Wednesday’s. And I also need some TMIThursday guest posts: email me! wickedcourtni@gmail.com

Alllllllllllsoooooooo, I think that people who don’t know me who are around me need to figure it out. I am not the one and I promise you that if there is a continuous assumption on your part that I actually am the one … you will get phased out quick like Quick Draw McGraw. Don’t play me. You will lose the little high school games you are attempting (horribly might I add) to play.

My quote of the week: “What doesn’t kill you will only make you stronger.”

Done and done.

Would you rather lick day old dirty dishes clean in the sink OR clean the toilet with your toothbrush and then brush your teeth right after?

What is your quote of the week?

Whatever Happened to Wednesday’s: Subtle-ty

Mar 23, 2010 Completely Hypothetical and Generally Specific, DUH, I Forgot to Tag, Random, Relationships, Sex, Thoughts and Perceptions, Whatever Happened to? Wednesdays, Wicked Wisdoms, bitch 8 Comments

Yeah bitches, I just made up my own word right there. I need to start a Wicked-ictionary.

Anyway.

Welcome to Whatever Happened to Wednesday’s!

Today’s WHtW was inspired by a story told to me today by a co-worker. In re-living this story with Tarable and sharing a “daaaaaaaaaayum that is fucked up” laugh about it … My blog light bulb went off.

Wanna hear it? Here it goes:

Picture standing in line at the grocery store, minding your own business. You are standing behind a young couple, but the observation of them in front of you was simply that. An observation.

Until ….

The couple unloads their basket. The guy nonchalantly drops a box of Magnums on the counter.

(Lets freeze this moment for a second. Have you ever bought any sort of unmentionable at the grocery store? Condoms, lube, monistat … tampons … all of these come paired with just a little bit of a “I hope no one notices that I am buying this” knot in your belly. Some of us try and cover it with another product. Some just throw it in last minute. Whatever. We all have been there. Are you there with me right now? Good.)

So the guy. He drops the condoms. The “My dick is monstrous” condoms. That right there is a statement.

Then the following conversation (if that is what you want to call it) happens:

Girl: “Why do you keep buying these? They always fall off.”

Um. So. Yeah. I was not there but I am pretty sure that THIS is what my face would have looked like if I had:

And then like this:

And lastly like this:

This leads me to the topic at hand: Subtle-ty.

Her saying that would be like him saying something to the effect of “Why didn’t you grab that Vagisil, babe? Your vagina smells and tastes like cheese!” in the line at the grocery store.

You ladies just cringed right there, didn’t you? See!?

It is broads like this that give us women a bad name. Right here. I mean, having a Magnum-worthy penis is rad. Believe me. I know this. But it is like the Michael Phelps of the penis. Not everyone is gonna win Gold medals. Average is average. Shit even ABOVE average.

but there were a couple of ways to handle this situation that would have not stripped this mans balls from his body:

1) A simple whisper. Not a God damn broadcast.

2) Simply saying “I will be right back babe.” And walking the box of manhood detrimental condoms back and getting an appropriate box instead. Maybe ribbed for her pleasure or something.

Subtle-ty. It is important in life. Not just in regard to penis size or manhood. In life in general. Maybe this phenomenon comes with age or maturity or something … but I am just saying. Think about who else might be affected by your thoughtless broadcast of their faults.

Can you think of another situation where subtle-ty might be super important?
What would you do if you were him in that situation?

Whatever Happened to Wednesday’s: True Friendship

Mar 2, 2010 Completely Hypothetical and Generally Specific, Family, Friendship, Out with the Old Wicked in with the New Wicked, Whatever Happened to? Wednesdays 17 Comments

Happy Hump Day folks, and welcome to Whatever Happened to Wednesday’s!

Today, my WeHtW’s post has little to do with me and more to do with my own observations.

The reason why is because I have already flushed my non-true friends down the figurative toilet.

It is hard to let friends go. Especially when you have a history with them. It is hard to swallow the fact that someone who you once thought you would end up an old bitty with … may have a different path than you.

But it is life.

The thing that bothers me the most is when people … adults … behave like children in the friendships.

Judgment
2 faced behavior
Conditions
Unrealistic expectations
Lies
Non existent communication

I could go on forever.

The point is that I have found that rarely (with females specifically) do childhood friendships go the long haul. I know many will argue that my view is not accurate. “I have been friends with SonSo for 2367845 years” blah blah blah.

I get it.

There ARE friendships that have gone the long haul. The difference is that each person in that friendship have grown together in the friendship. Both parties have become adults. And in adulthood, they have grown to accept the other person for all of their imperfections and flaws. It is similar to a marriage. When any relationship goes the long haul, there are kinks and bumps and hiccups.

You don’t just smile through them. Sometimes you knock down drag out whoop each others asses to get through it. Period.

One thing that I will say about each of my TRUE friendships is that each and every one of them have just embraced me for me and I have done the same. It may have taken an argument or 2 to get there … but if we made it through the last 5 years and remained friends … you and I will be lifelong.

I am not a judger. I may fucking loathe whatever the decision is that my friend is making … but you know what? It is not my decision to make. I am gonna love and stand by. I am gonna listen, and you can bet your ass when the bitch finally gets the clue I am gonna tell her about herself on some “I told your ass so” shit when she figures it out for herself. That is what a true friend does.

I am a true friend to my friends. I always will be. But I am not perfect, and I do not expect my friends to be perfect either. Unless awesome = perfect. Because all of my friends are awesome.

I am flaky sometimes. I forget to call you back. I am over extended and sometimes unable to manage my time well. I am selfish sometimes. But there isn’t a time where I would not bend over backwards if my friend needed me to be there. There isn’t a time where I wouldn’t give them my last god damn dollar if I knew my friend needed it more than I did.

It really hurts me to see a friend lose a friend. Almost as much as if I were the one losing the friend myself.

I just wish that each were able to fully step out of their own shoes and into the others. Most of the time, each have valid points in the hurt that they hold in their hearts … but that hurt can be blinding. Blinding to the point that the communication between friends goes down the toilet.

That usually is where The End fits.

I am quite confident that I have closed the book on all of the friendships that were dead weight on my life. It is a good feeling to know that I am finally surrounded by people who get it and me.


What are your thoughts on friendship?
Have you kept any friends from childhood? Are they more friends or acquaintances?
If you could be a crayon, What color and Why?

Whatever Happened to Wednesday’s: My 9 Year Old

Feb 23, 2010 All Things X, Current Events, Family, Parenting, Ranteriffic, Thoughts and Perceptions, Wicked MOMMY Wisdoms 24 Comments

Welcome to Whatever Happened to Wednesday’s!

Don’t worry, my child is not literally missing. Figuratively though … I cannot for the life of me find him anywhere.

Let me explain. Since the bringagoddamnpornomagtoschoolandgiveittohisfriend incident, Xavier has continued to act a fool at school as well as at home, lying about the stupidest fucking shit imaginable and has been suspended 2 more times.

Right?!

He has told liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiies. From “the garage just smells like something is burning, I didn’t burn anything”
when he really found a lighter and was fucking around in the garage to “my hair is just like this” when he really used a beard trimmer to shave his head partially because he “didn’t like the way his fade was lined up” or maybe how his daily progress report was “all smiles because he had a great day at school” when he really altered it so he wouldn’t get into trouble at home.

So when I asked him to write a letter to the teacher to apologize for forging the fucking progress report, he had the audacity to say the following:

“I was really shooting for all smiley faces but you gave me 2 straight faces and I didn’t really like that so I changed the straight faces to smiley faces, but what I did not know is that it would be felony: forgery when I did that. I only changed it because my dad said that if I dont get a really really really really good report I would have to run a bunch of laps around my back yard and I really didn’t want to run anymore laps because I was sore enough from running like 150 to 200 laps this last weekend.”

I am dying. I am so happy that he was not awake when I read this because I am literally falling out laughing at his logic.

1. He is not taking A N Y responsibility for the forgery.
2. He is totally blaming D for his forgery.

Fucking seriously? You wanna snitch on your dad? It was MY idea! Yeah his ass ran some laps. 20 laps a pop to be accurate.

I catch you in some shit? Get to running.
6AM? Keep it pushin’ around the backyard.
You wanna half ass your chores? Kick up dust. In the tune of 20 laps.

GO!

Not only that, but he thought it would be appropriate to just pull his pants down and sit in class at his desk with his brown ass out. Then, when he got caught … he tried to act like the teacher was seeing things and then changed his story to be that “his pants and underwear accidentally fell down.” REALLY?! Do I look that fucking stupid?!

But wait! There’s more! 30 minutes after he got caught, he did the SAME shit, mooning some kids while he “acted like he picking up some paper”

Riiiiiiiiiiiight.

Laps. Pushups. Laps. Pushups. Repeat.

Gone are the days of conversation. Gone are the endless surprise ass whoopins. Now– there is no talk, other than “Save your faulty explanation and go run it out.”

So whatever happened to him? Have you seen my 9 year old? The one who was a good kid that I got to actually talk to and spend time with? The one who I didn’t spend most conversations yelling at him?

I miss him. I miss my kid. I really really really really really miss him.

If you had only 24 hours to live, what would you do?
If you could be invisible for a day what would you do and why?
If the whole world were listening, what would you say?

Whatever Happened to Wednesday’s: Knowing Your Place

Feb 17, 2010 Current Events, DUH, Out of Wicked's Mouth, P.O.E. Biz, Parenting, Random, Ranteriffic, Whatever Happened to? Wednesdays 8 Comments

Welcome to Whatever Happened to Wednesday’s!

This week is about a little thing called “Knowing Your Place.” Ever heard of it? I know I have.

Some people have never in their lives heard of it. Wanna know how I know?! I am glad that you asked.

Exhibit A: Assuming that you can walk in the door and be above the rules. In ANY situation.

Know your place. Follow the rules. Show up with the correct attire. Accept the fact that you are low on the totem pole. Submit to not knowing everything and fucking LEARN something for a change. Understand that there were others before you.

Just saying.

Exhibit B: Your foot doesn’t belong in your mouth. I promise.

Know your place. Sometimes … it is okay to shut the fuck up. You may even gain a little bit of respect from someone if you say nothing rather than everything. Take it from me. I have learned this lesson the motherfucking hard way.

Just saying.

Exhibit C: If you are a parent … then BE one.

That means that you absolutely H A V E to be the motherfucking bad guy sometimes. It is a part of parenting. If you aren’t ready to be the bad guy, and if you are okay with a child running you like a pimp does a hoe on Sunset Blvd… then use some motherfucking birth control.

Just saying.

Exhibit D: Assuming that you are better than everyone else around you.

i.e. No one cares about your motherfucking Lexus. Nor do they give a fuck about how bored you are or how qualified you think you are. Not a one of us.

Just motherfucking saying.

To all of you bitches who don’t know your place …

The end. (Unless I missed an exhibit where a bitch doesn’t know their place.)

Would you rather be forgotten or hatefully remembered? Why?
Would you rather end hunger or hatred? Why?

Whatever Happened to Wednesday’s?: Mirrors.

Feb 9, 2010 DUH, Random, Ranteriffic, Whatever Happened to? Wednesdays 8 Comments

I think the images that I will use for this week’s Whatever Happened to Wednesday’s will explain why the title of this blog involves mirrors and why I am wondering what in the fuck happened to them.

(In case anyone forgot what a mirror was.)

What I want to know is … do people really have mirrors … and then look into them, and actually make a decision to leave the house looking like this?

Is it just me that thinks that looking like this is not only unacceptable… but also fucking offensive? I swear to fuck if I was at that Walmart when the last bitch was sauntering through the dairy isle … I promise you that I would have let her know about herself. Especially if my kids were with me.

And the bitch with no panties? Really? Reeeeeeeeally? Gah.

We were at Walmart today in fact and in no way was there anything as extreme as any of these images above but … there were some people who I just had to literally take a moment and stop to ponder the lack of decision on their part to find a mirror and realistically make a decision whether or not to fucking change before leaving.

Like the woman who was in possession of some tigolbitties like down to her knees and decided that today was the day to not wear a bra. (or maybe it was every day … I dont know.) How do I know she wasnt wearing one? Because her tshirt was almost see through and her nipples were cutting through it down by her belly button. No lie.

It was like she had 3 outties.

All I am saying is, double check your shit before you leave. Make sure that your unmentionables are covered. Because really? I have no desire to see your beef curtains in the motherfucking paper towel isle.

Now don’t get me wrong … just like the majority of the world … I have made bad leaving the house just to go to Walmart decisions before … but you can bet your ass that I 1) had panties on (or at least something that fully covered my vagina) 2) had some sort of bra on and 3) looked somewhat publicly presentable before I left my house.

I would like to donate mirrors to all of these people who seemingly do not own one. Seriously.

Would you rather find you parents having sex or have your parents find you having sex?
Would you rather have your eye fall out at random times or have uncontrollable constant drool?

Whatever Happened to? Wednesday’s: Personal Space

Jan 19, 2010 All Things Charli, Parenting, Ranteriffic, Whatever Happened to? Wednesdays, bitch 35 Comments

Hello! Welcome to Whatever Happened to Wednesday’s!

This one will be short and sweet.

Whatever happened to personal space?!

For example:

Charli. I love the child to death. I really truly do. But she is the most magnetically touchy child I have ever encountered. And … well I am not that person. Don’t get me wrong. I love touching and loving and all of that like the rest of 95% of the world… but there is a time and a place for everything.

Not the time:

When I first wake up in the morning. Specifically, me waking up to a 35ish pound human latched on to me. And when I say latched, I mean laaaatttccchhheeed. Like legs intertwined. Like hand on my face. Or hair in my face. Me hanging off the bed due to her in my business and me attempting to get a little bit of personal motherfucking space.

Also NOT the time:

When I am peeing. She wants to know what I am doing. Why I am doing it. How I am doing it.

“Are you wiping now?”
“Are you peeing now?”
“Are you done peeing?”
“Is that your pee pee mommy?”
“Can I flush it?”

For the most part, I am okay with it. I mean, I respect her curiosity. But sometimes though?! I mean… can a bitch get a little bit of motherfucking personal space?!

Wanna know when ELSE it is not the time?!

When I am taking a shower. I am not interested in having a conversation with my 2 year old about my shower in step by step format. Nor do I feel like talking to her about my pee pee and my boobs for the duration of my 15 minute shower.

Dont tell me that I should lock the door either. Because she will stand there and yell at me through the door.

“MOMMY!”
“MOMMYWHATAREYOUDOING???!”
“MOMMY ARE YOU TAKING A SHOWER NOW?”
“MOMMY ARE YOU WASHING YOUR PEEPEEANDYOURBOOBS?”

Yeah. Personal space?! What the fuck is that?!

These examples have nothing to do with adults who cannot comprehend the idea of personal space. That is a whole different fucking discussion. I cant even really be mad at Charli. She is too young to get it. But grown ass people?! Really?!

Do I want your face in my face?! No.
Do I want to turn around and have you 4inches from the back of me in the grocery line?! FUCK NO.
Must you sit RIGHT next to me in a public place when there are eleventy million fucking open seats around me? (i.e. the DOL or the DR office.) NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOFUCK!

Get out of my bubble. Get out of my business. Get OUT of MY SPACE. BLAHHHHHHHHHHH.

Do you have a bubble? What are your feelings about personal space?
What is your favorite kind of sandwich?

5 Days (or) I am Hungry (or) “You’re Next” (or) Randomosity

Jan 6, 2010 All Things X, DUH, Etc., Family, Masturbate-able, Parenting, Random, Sex, This Thing Called Marriage., Wicked MOMMY Wisdoms, bitch 5 Comments

Hi. I was thinking of a topic for “Whatever Happened to Wednesday’s” but couldn’t think of a good one so instead I shall word vomit. (Hint: Give me some WHtW’s suggestions pleasenthx.)

I talked to D today after finally fucking having to gangster this non english speaking bitch on the other end of my phone. I fucking LOATHE customer service call centers. Especially the outsourcedtoanotherfuckingcountrytosavemoneyyetoursocietyisfuckingunemployedlikeamotherfucker ones.

Yep. I surely did go there.

Anyway, he and I had a conversation about how it was gonna go down. It = the very strategic process of him putting his penis in my vagina. It was quite the conversation. What I want to happen and what will actually happen are probably 2 completely different things. At least 5 days from now anyway. Truthfully, I just wanna marinate for like a fucking week with complete silence and penis in my vicinity but you and I both know that I have 2 mini terrorists in my house that are not interested in anything 1) silent and 2) what I want so we are gonna have to get in where we fit in. No pun intended.

I am hungry. I want some chocolate. Like an Oreo or some Ritter Sport. Actually, I just want anything in my mouth that shouldn’t be there. Including a cheeseburger and a taco salad and even an apple with peanut butter. Mmmmm. Since starting back on South Beach Phase 1, I forgot how fucking hard it is to stick to phase 1. Carbs are the motherfucking devil.

So today, Xavier was home from school for about an hour by himself. My sitter had to run an errand or so and was running a bit behind so I get this frantic call from him.

X: “Mom – uh – uh – the cat – uh – is – puking – and – you – didnt answer so – uh – I called the vet and then the neighbor and she wants to talk to you.”
Me: (fuuuuuuckreally?!) “Alright.”
Neighbor: “Hi, is everything okay? Does X have someone looking after him?”
Me: “Yes my sitter had an errand to run and there was some traffic so he is just home alone for about an hour. Thanks for checking up.”
Neighbor: “Okay … are you sure?”
Me: (FUCKIAMFINEBITCHGODGETOUTOFMYBUSINESS!!!!!!!!!) “Yep. We are all good!”
X: “I didnt know what to do. I am sorry!”
Me: “It is fine Xavier. Just get your chores done, okay?”
X: “Okay.”

15 minutes later, I check my phone because while on a pitch selling me some dang credits, I had 4 missed calls from my house. Tried calling. The phone is busy. So I check the VM I had.

Scratchy sound scratchy sound … “qssaggYOURENEXTwertwsgfs”

Click.

Insert me freaking the fuck out.

So I call back my house phone. Busy. I call my sitter.

Me: “Hi. Um. Did you make it back to my house?”
Her: “Yeah I am sitting in the living room… why?”
Me: “Is Xavier there?”
Her: “Yeaahhh…?”
Me: (realizing what happened.) “Put him on the phone.”
Her: “Okayyy…”
X: “Hello!”
Me: “Are you kidding me?”
X: “What?!”
Me: “You’re next!?!?!?!”
X: “Ohhh thaaat! You got my voicemail then.”
Me: “Yeah and I do not think that it is funny.”
X: “What? Why not?”
Me: “Um well lets start with the fact that you were home alone and I thought someone had snatched you up Xavier.”
X: “Ohhhhh … I didn’t think about thaaat.”
Me: “I could kill you for freaking me out like that!”
X: “Sorry.”

Are you fucking kidding me right now?! GAH. I will tell you that I am only mad as far as he is concerned right now until I get his little ass back, thanks to a kick ass recommendation. Yep. He is gonna be scared out of his mind.

*wickedcackle*

I cant reeeeeeeeeeally be mad though. I used to play hella pranks on my mom. As often as possible actually. Of course payback is a bitch. Offffffff course this is the “mothers curse”. I get it. It’s cool. We shall see who has the last laugh.

All I am saying is that in 5 days, I don’t want to hear word one about any of this shit for like … I dunno … 60 motherfucking days. The only thing I want to hear about is D’s face buried in my vagina until I can’t feel my own face due to an over abundance of O faces.

Ya diiiiiiiiiig?!

Tell me something funny. Something hilar has to have happened in your life over the past couple of weeks that I have missed.
Have you ever pulled any prank bullshit on your parents, or have you had any pulled on you?

Whatever Happened to Wednesday’s: ForREAL Casual Sex

Dec 16, 2009 Completely Hypothetical and Generally Specific, DUH, Out of Wicked's Mouth, Ranteriffic, Relationships, Sex, Whatever Happened to? Wednesdays, bitch 19 Comments

Happy HUMP Day peeps! Welcome to Whatever Happened to Wednesday’s!

In my nightly evening vent session with my Tarable, we started talking about what I was gonna blog about today. I hadn’t had any ranty … funny … or inappropriate blogs in a few days due to life circumstances so I really wanted to let loose (no pun intended) on a awesome subject. Especially considering that it has been a hot minute since my last WeHtW.

So she and I were talking about specific Whatever Happened to’s. A few good ones came up in conversation, but then we started talking about sex. (duh) About how everyone can talk a great game about how they are all about some casual encounter type bullshit but when it all boils down to it … about 2% of people actually have it in them to keep it casual. No strings. Booty-call-esque.

I listen to all of these single and available bullshitters every day. On Facebook, at work … pretty much wherever I go. They talk about all they want for Christmas is some strange. But really?! When it all boils down to it, these people get the strange and then they fuck it alllllllllllll up with feelings.

What happens next?

Traps are set. Like, “I think I am pregnant.” Or, attempting to make a motherfucker jealous by “showing up” at the same bar with some douchebag. Or … stupid shit like “being in the same neighborhood” and “just dropping by”

Really?

Let me tell you idiots who lie about being capable of casual sex a little something:

You are only doing YOURSELF a disservice by lying to yourself. Not the other person. They are going to fuck you and leave you every single time. I guarantee it. Have you found yourself bawling “Why ME!?” to the heavens when that one person who you originally agreed to fuck stringlessly simply stopped calling? Or returning your calls? Or acting like they don’t know you because you are a REE REE REE stalker, perched outside their house trying to figure out what OTHER booty call they have lined up on the nights they are too busy to see you?

It is okay to be incapable of the booty call. I promise. No one will judge you for being a mate seeker. Dont waste anyone’s time by lying. Seriously.

My casual sex days may have been laid to rest because of the schematics of marriage and kids but let me tell you this. When my days of frequent strange was on and poppin … I stayed true to my word. Sex is just sex. Period. Fuck me and get out. No I don’t want to call you later. I would prefer it if you did NOT bring me flowers or try to woo me. If I wanted a motherfucking relationship … we would have had a completely different conversation.

Like the sharing of last god damn names.

Do I wish I was a booty call-er? Hell to the no. I am happy to not have to deal with man stalkers showing up in my life all late night styles and trying to play like they were just in the area. Because that shit has happened. And, like I have stated eleventy million times before … I am not the fucking one.

Men are the worst. I swear. They ALL LIE about the love of strange and sex being just sex and blah blah blah but as soon as they get a taste of the vagina … it is over. TKO. The ultimate douchebag is released from the wild.

Bottom Line: Mate seekers stick with fellow mate seekers because 9 times out of 10 you will be all emo crying sad and shit over the one who you thought was “the one” dumping your pathetic ass on the concrete and moving on to the next piece of ass that they are HOPING isn’t all about marriage and kids and exclusive.

Or, at least do us all a favor, and shut the fuck up about it already.

Ya dig?

If you have any WeHtW suggestions … lay them on me.

Are you a casual sex person or a mate seeker?
Any crazy stalker stories to share? Yours or others are welcomed.