Cuz Mommy Says Eat
Mar 9, 2010 Completely Hypothetical and Generally Specific, DUH, Friendship, Masturbate-able, Out of Wicked's Mouth, Relationships, Sex, This Thing Called Marriage.
So the question has been directed my way…
“How do you retrain the wheel… in the oral department… when the other person just isn’t as into it as you would like them to be??”
Specifically referring to “dining out”.
I call this oralsexophobia.
When it comes to oral, there really isn’t a retraining. I think oral sex is like sushi. You either like it or you don’t. It isn’t really an acquired taste/talent/fetish. I know several men who just do not prefer to put their face in-between ANYONES legs. I don’t care if you have the prettiest most famous vagina on the planet. They just are not gonna go there. On the flip-side, I know several women who not only refuse to suck a cock… but DEMAND to have their coochie knife and forked regularly.
Um. What?
Granted, I haven’t been a regular Blow Job Betty lately… (not because I am not in a giving mood by any means..) and usually the snatch to cock ratio favors my pleasure… but I don’t demand head if I am not willing to reciprocate.
“So,” you ask… ” what am I supposed to do if I want it, and he/she just doesn’t want to give it?”
There are many different layers to this loaded question.
1:Are YOU giving oral with no reciprocation?
If yes, I would stop. Period. Give ‘No McOral’ a taste of their own medicine. Why should you be the only one giving presents. (yes, I understand that most of us who DO give oral, actually enjoy doing so… however it is absolutely unethical to have Mr. Man in ElBoat-o stranded in lake neglect when Penis McBall is being coddled like a 7 month old infant.)
2- Have you talked to Neglector 2010 about their oralsexophobia?
If you haven’t, PLEASE do. Find out why. Talk about your needs. Tell them how important it is to you to not only receive it, but to give it as well. Explain why it is important in your sex life. Communication is SO key in any relationship. ESPECIALLY the sexual part.
3 If N-2010 is not receptive to your needs, and cannot get past whatever it is that turns them off………
Then you as the needy one, has to decide exactly the level of importance oral sexcapades are to you.
Personally, I would tell D to go take a long walk. I absolutely MUST be the main course on a regular basis. I need frequent stimulation. Period. Need it. Like life or fucking death. There is nothing better than a fantastic tongue fucking related o-face.
Dining out, in my opinion, is more than just a luxury. It is as important as cock penetration. Period. If your ball-and-chain cant get it together… I would tell them to kick rocks, OR find someone who WILL do it on the side.
On a side minirant…. if I catch wind of another bitch that doesn’t swallow…. I am going to fucking scream. Giving head and not at least letting him cum INSIDE your face is like giving him a hot fudge Sunday without the fudge. If you don’t want to digest his seed, fine. But don’t make him tell you when he is about to cum so you can move out of firing range.
He.Might.As.Well.Whack.Off.
Nothing irritates me more than a half-assed Betty. DON’T give them then. DON’T get a mans hopes up and then shaft him at the end.
DON’T make us full BJ givers look bad. We give 110 percent, so you need to as well.
K? K.
Thoughts on oral? Do you dine out?
IF you were to name the emotion that you waste the most time on, what would it be?
Name five songs to which you know all the lyrics.
Tags: blow job betty, cunningulus, fellatio, oral sex
Pillow Talk — 7
Mar 2, 2010 Current Events, Relationships, Sex, This Thing Called Marriage., Wicked & D Quotables, pillow talk
Yo! Yo! Yo!
I always give love to Ms. Lilu for inspiring my Pillow Talk blogs because she posts The Shiz My Boyfriend Says. And I love her so you should read her. Word?
(while watching SNL…)
Me: “Jlo is both the artist and the guest?”
D: “I dunno…”
Me: “What in the hell is she singing tonight?”
D: “I think she sings some mexi stuff.”
Me: “Mexi stuff? Really?”
D: “You know what I meant.”
Me: “So racist.”
D: “Yeah. That’s me. A closet racist.”
Me: “Like mexi fries? Mexi melt?”
D: “Shutup.”
(20 minutes later …)
Me: “Damn Jlo has ass.”
D: “Somethin’ has to make up for her lack of voice.”
Me: “Seriously. Enrique Iglasias needs to tell his wife about herself because dude. She sounds like a dying cat.”
D: (laughing)
Me: “What?”
D: “Jlo’s husband is not named Enrique.”
Me: “Huh?”
D: “You called Jlo’s husband Enrique Iglasias.”
Me: “Oh whatever. Enrique Iglasias … Mark Anthony … sounds the same to me.”
D: “The names sound absolutely nothing alike.”
Me: “You know what I meant!”
D: “You are the closet racist, not me.”
Me: “Wow.”
(in response to a discussion about a husband wanting an “exercise pole” in the house against his wifes will)
Me: “Any man that wants a stripper pole in the house and the wife doesn’t … that just screams infidelity.”
D: “He SAID it was an exercise pole.”
Me: “It is an infidelity pole.”
D: “I am gonna put a stripper pole in the man cave.”
Me: “You have a motherfucking death wish.”
D: “I have hella seating.”
Me: “I will kill you.”
D: “There are tools down there to install it.”
Me: “You are joking.”
D: “There are MIRRORS down there.”
Me: “There will be no pole ala stripper in my house.”
D: “That is why the man cave is in the garage now.”
Me: “Die.”
D: “I am just saying. OH! There is MUSIC out there too!!!!!”
Me: “I am going to poison you.”
D: “Babe, it is all for you.”
Me: “Yeah because I am gonna walk out to the “Man Cave” and use the fucking stripper pole.”
D: “Why cant we have one?”
Me: “We can have one when we have our own wing in our house.”
D: “Really?”
Me: “Yep. Because if we have a pole, we need a swing and one of those rocking chair dong ride thingies.”
D: “I really love you.”
Me: “Duh.”
If you could only listen to one song for the rest of your life, which song would you choose?
If you were asked to choose which time you would like to live in, which century would you choose?
Tags: love, marriage, pillow talk, Relationships
TMIThursday: A Hole Surprise
Feb 24, 2010 Sex, TMI Thursday's, love, pillow talk
Welcome to TMIT! Lilu is the founder of the awesome awfulness … so go show her and all of the other TMIT contributors some pukeinyourmouth trainwreckyoucantturnaway love.
Do it.
Speaking of doing it … Ms. DC Princess has the TMIT floor today. She is my blog partner in crime. If you read me, then you need to read her blog as well as her regular editorial on relationships.
Don’t make me cut you.
Who doesn’t like to be woken up by the soft touch of your man’s hand on your boobs? Or ya know, when spooning turns into forking when you’re in that beautiful state between being asleep and being awake?
I kind of love that.
You know what’s better?
Waking up as you’re about to cum. Best feeling EVER.
The Boy and I like to sleep naked on the nights when we think we’re going to get a little frisky after we’ve slept a little and wake up for a surprise attack initiated by either of us.
Usually…this isn’t a problem. If spooning leads to forking, there is usually some feeling around involved so he doesn’t go near the “UHOH” place but we’ve had some pretty nice wake up calls in the last 5 months.
Then…
A little slip-up.
I’m pretty sure we were both sleeping for 90 percent of the following events:
We were spooning and I could feel that he was about to sleep-attack me and I let myself relax more. The next thing I remember is thinking “Ow…” as I tried to tell him that HE NEEDED TO MOVE HIS PENIS. “Ow…baby, not there…OK…no…”
I don’t think I said it loud enough and there was a little bit more prodding before we both got conscious enough to fix the problem, and ya know, bang it out. And it was gooooood.
A couple of hours later, when we WERE awake, the Boy told me that he was having a dream where it was our first time and I was trying to get away from him while consciously thinking: “Hmm…she’s drier than usual.”
So yeah. THAT happened.
I’m just glad this incident didn’t coincide with my NOTBUTTSEKSRELATED that I got in the first month of our relationship…
Could you imagine the theories?
Still…late night sneak attacks are my favorite for sure. Just…NOT IN THE BUTT.
There you have it folks. Feel free to email me at wickedcourtni@gmail.com with your guest TMIT postings. You don’t have to be a blogger or identified in the post. I am looking for any and all TMIT postings.
Carry on.
Tags: buttsecks, dc princess, live it love it, pqnation, tmithursday
TMIThursday: Barfy Valentines Day, Honey!
Feb 10, 2010 Relationships, Sex, TMI Thursday's, Yum... or Lack There Of., love
Hello my gluttons for TMIThursday punishment!
As always — check out Ms. Lilu for making this recurring day of nastyness that we all kind-of look forward to possible. She rocks, in case you didn’t know.
This TMIT posting comes from Ms. Squishy over at squishisms.com. She is not only one of my besties, but a kick ass blogger. You should read her because she exudes awesomeness.
It’s been 361 days since it happened. I had plans for a girls night with the Teridactyl. This, of course, meant Irish had to find something to do. Luckily for him a friend of ours got laid off that day. Or maybe it was the day he found a new job? I don’t really remember, and it’s moot. The point is – I went out with my girl and our coworkers, and Irish went out with the boys.
It was our first night out without each other since we started dating, a little over eight months. My night started with happy hour – to celebrate 30 Days of NonSmoking with a CoWorker who had quit smoking the same day I did. (Tho, he didn’t really quit, just quit where I could see him – but I didn’t find that out til later.) My drinking began at 4 PM on the dot.
At 11 I was ready for karaoke. It. Was. Time. I could handle anything, including that smoke-filled dive bar full of temptations I’d sworn off – cigarettes being nowhere near the top. And I thought it was time to bring the groups together. Irish’s boys and my crew could all meet at Rags.
But when I called, Irish slurred that he was heading home. He was “shhhhhleeeeeeeeeepy.”
/shrug
But… the longer we drove, and it’s at least a half hour from South Austin, where we were, to North Austin, where my car was, the more tired I grew. My buzz was wearing off and I wanted out of my clothes and into a warm comfy bed…and preferably wakeup wellsexed to boot.
SO I skipped karaoke and came home. Before midnight on a Friday night.
CanISayHowAwesomeItIsToNotHaveToStayOutAllNightToGetLaid?
But when I got home, all the lights were off. This was before the dogs or the roommate, so the house was CREEPYQuiet. Irish was passed the hell out. Didn’t even twitch when I came in and turned on the bedside light. And he was on his stomach, which is odd for him. I undressed, kissed his shoulder, resigned myself to sexlessness, contemplated masturbation, rejected it, climbed into bed and went to sleep…
For all of a few hours… and then something woke me roud about 4 AM.
Quick shallow breathing.
Quiet grunts.
And right as I opened my mouth to alert Irish to the fact that there was someone in the apartment, something hit the back of my head. Something warm and something that DID NOT smell so good.
Yeah. My fiance vomited IN MY HAIR. IN HIS SLEEP.
On Valentine’s Day.
Our FIRST Valentine’s Day.
I rinsed my hair off quietly, made sure he was on his side so he didn’t die…and went to the couch.
And then I knew what love is…
Yep.
(To be fair: (And because he says I have to include it) He did make me steak and cheddar potatoes for dinner. AND AN ICE CREAM CAKE. While Hungover. <3)
Would you rather…
* Be handcuffed to a bed, naked, in the middle of a highway?
* Have pictures of you being handcuffed to a bed, naked, on the Internet?
Tags: karaoke, love, tmit, tmithursday, valentines day
Guess What’s Back … Back Again? Pillow Talk … Tell a Friend
Feb 7, 2010 Random, Relationships, Sex, This Thing Called Marriage., Wicked & D Quotables, pillow talk
Happy Monday! Guess who won the Superbowl? Psh like I give a fauxck.
I have had some emails wondering why there have been no Pillow Talk blogs as of late. Not to be a sarcastic cunt or anything but I guess I am wondering how Pillow Talk would be possible when the person (D) on the other pillow is not around to share a conversation with.
Just saying.
So, for your enjoyment, here are some recent conversation between the infamous D and myself.
(This convo took place after last weekend’s shenanigans where some random douchebag thought my name was Nicole … and all of my LOVELY friends played into it by screaming “NIKKI” as I attempted to drunkenly convince him that my name was NOT in fact Nicole or Nikki)
D: “Whatever Nikki.”
Me: “You must want to get stabbed.”
D: “I must admit, you could pull off Nikki if you really wanted to.”
Me: “Is that right?”
D: “Yeah. I mean, Nikki is a slutty name. And well … you are kinda slutty.”
Me: (Pondering)
D: “And, I mean Nikki is a bitchy name too. Like ‘I cant STAND that bitch Nikki.”
Me: “You just have it all figured out, don’t you?”
D: “Hey. I am not the one who thought your name was Nikki. I am just saying. If the slutty shoe fits… call her Nikki.”
Me: “I am going to murder you.”
Approximately 10 minutes later…
Me: “You have to wake me up at 7:30 tomorrow.”
D: “What am I, your personal alarm clock?”
Me: “You are my personal more than that and you know it.”
D: “Psh.”
Me: “Mmmmmhm. That is why you answered like that. Cause you know.”
Me: “7:30. Alright? And you better wake me up nicely.”
D: “I know how I am gonna wake you up. HehHehHeh.”
Me: “NO! I am NOT A MORNING PERSON GOD DAMNIT!”
D: “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
Me: “Really? Have we just met?”
D: “What I was GONNA say was I would just wake Charli up early and let HER deal with your non-morning person ass.”
Me: “That would be stupid on your part.”
D: “Why?”
Me: “Because she isn’t a morning person either and I will be getting ready for work, so you will have to deal with her bratty ass.”
D: “Fuuuuck.”
Me: “Yep. Better stick to just waking me up nicely.”
D: “Thisdick.”
Me: “You are a 6th grader.”
D: “Deeeeeeznuttts.”
Me: “I often find myself questioning why I even talk to you.”
Because he takes care of me so well when I am sick…
Me: “I feel like shit right now. My throat and ears feel like sandpaper on the inside.”
D: (smirking)
Me: “I wish I could shove my hands down my throat and scratch them. Blah!”
D: “I think I might have a cure for that itch.”
Me: “Idontwantit.”
D: “I am just trying to help you scratch the deepest parts of your throat baby.”
Me: “I swear to Christ I hate you.”
D: “Why such hatred? Here I am fixing the problem and you are so ungrateful.”
Me: “Whatever.”
D: “Fine. Don’t come crying to me when your throat still itches. That is, unless you have made the decision to allow me to *ahem* scratch that itch.”
Me: “Idontwantit!”
D: “Such ungratefulness these days.”
Would you rather fight Mike Tyson, or permanently talk like him?
If you had to assassinate one famous person still living, who would it be and how would you do it?
Tags: love, marriage, mike tyson, pillow talk, superbowl
It Started With a Simple Question …
Feb 2, 2010 Completely Hypothetical and Generally Specific, Etc., I Forgot to Tag, Masturbate-able, Out of Wicked's Mouth, Random, Sex, Thoughts and Perceptions
… that led to this blog.
Do you ever wonder what other peoples “pee faces” look like? I pee a lot lately, and sometimes I know I make the most ridiculous pee faces ever. Especially when I should have peed like 1 hour prior… so I reeeeeeeeealllyyyy have to pee. It is probably closer to an orgasm face than a pee face.
I am so nosy. I would totally be a fly on the stall wall, observing other people’s pee faces; giggling uncontrollably at them squint, and silently sigh as they finally let it all out.
I don’t want to be a fly on the wall for poo faces. No No No. Grunty faces aren’t interesting to me, especially because the present left after the grunts and groans and poots is stinky. I am not interested in being a part of another woman’s poo funk.
I would also be that proverbial fly on the wall during sex.
All sex. Gay sex, bi-sex, old people sex, group sex…. You wouldn’t really get a true idea of what other people’s sex behaviors are if they knew you were watching.
People fart. Unattractive noises are made sometimes during position change. The moaning is not necessarily as pretty sounding as the little girls on the movies. I would perch my nosy, horny ass on their smoke stained wallpaper and watch them go at it.
I have had people watch D and I have sex… which was weird at first, but now that I think about it…. triple rawwwwrr. Watch me! And while you are at it, touch yourself while you are doing it. Why haven’t you joined in yet? I wanna make you call MY name out.
What?? Too bold??
Porn = a bunch of bullshit if you ask me. These sluts know that a camera is on them, so they absolutely put on a show. That is what they are paid for, right? I am inclined to say that porn doesn’t necessarily turn me off… but it isn’t really what I need to get the mood going. Well, with the exception of more than one girl going at it… and then really, it just makes me more mad than anything—because I really would rather just actually be with more than one girl, rather than watch them have all of the fun.
Wouldn’t you?
Sex makes me curious.
How does sonso give head? What is her secret technique to drive hubby over the edge? Does whatsherface like it in the butt? I wonder if thatonedude likes to really get into eating pussy? Or does he half-ass it? How many times does Ol’girl call out my name when she masturbates? Does she use a toy, or is she fingers only? Would thatonebitch really make out with me, or would she chicken out last minute??
I honestly have had at least one sexual thought about each and every one of you little minxes. I have also pictured myself on top of each and every one of you as well… or were you on top of me???
Anysnatch….
Sometimes, when I masturbate I don’t think about anything. More often than not, I am not me… I am in someone else’s body, with their husband… or with more than one person. Sometimes I am the pleaser… sometimes I just lay there and let my fantasy take over and please me.
I am a toy kind of girl; a no-nonsense, get down to business girl who doesn’t waste anytime sending me to that optimum climax. Sometimes I make myself cum more than once in a session. I have sent myself to that point so many times in one session that I cant even pee or wipe or touch it without a pleasure-filled pain involved.
So yeah. One question in my head led to this blogtastrophe. You are welcome.
Would you rather … Be trapped in an elevator with wet dogs or with three fat men with bad breath?
Tags: masturbate, people, porn, Sex
An I Don’t Care About Football Blog Etc.
Jan 24, 2010 Etc., Family, Friendship, Random, Sex
Happy Monday!
If you are looking for some awesome discussion about Sunday’s playoff games … you won’t find it here because I really could give a shit about football. When my kid plays football for school, I will give a shit. Until then, it is of zero concern to me.
What I do think is amusing is the banter and opinions and tempers that go into the football games. I like to subtly antagonize it a little bit where I can get in… but that is as far as it goes.
Friday was our little get together for D’s birthday. I was a tad concerned that no one would show, given the fact that D made the decision on TUESDAY *cough*procrastinator*cough* that he actually wanted to have people over that SAME Friday. But we have some pretty great friends who made it through.
Needless to say, Tarable and I got completely inebriated, stayed up until 4am, and then were worthless pieces of shit on my bed for the remainder of the Saturday.
And then Sunday. I pretty much laid in bed until 2pm. 
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh and I whooped both Xavier and D’s ass in Scrabble.
This is how I know I am old. I used to do that shit every single weekend. Sometimes on the weeknights. Puke, rally … repeat. Not anymore. My body pays 10 fold every time I party like a rock star.
Speaking of partying like a rock star … fucking like one is always rad. D and I had the besssssssssssst sex over the weekend. With him adjusting after being gone for 2 months and how hectic our schedule is … and of course how high maintenance my 2 year old is … our sex life has been little to none.
Not gonna lie, I was starting to get worried a little bit.
Last night, I watched a movie called “Rachel’s Getting Married” with Anne Hathaway. It was a really good movie. I enjoy her acting a great deal. If you haven’t seen it, and you like a good touching movie about family and its dysfunction … I highly recommend it.
Well, that is about all I have got.
How was your weekend?
Would you rather live with no elbows or no knees?
An Award annnnnnnnnd A LMFAO Conversation, Etc.
Jan 17, 2010 Etc., Family, Friendship, Masturbate-able, Out of Wicked's Mouth, Random, Relationships, Sex, The Tarably Wicked Show, This Thing Called Marriage., Yum... or Lack There Of.
Happy Monday Individuals!
I was given a really kick ass award from a new (to me) bloggerslashreader. You should add him to your readers because he is pretty awesome and I quite enjoy his blogs. I really have to give it up to Lilu as well for making the connection between us via TMIT’s every week. I don’t think that she is aware of the impact she has on connecting us bloggers on the interwebs.
The Award is the “Happy 101 Award” and the rules are as follows:
I have to list ten things that make me happy and I have to do one of them today. Then I have to pass the award on to ten other bloggers who I think are deserving. Now, ten things that make me happy:
(These things are in no particular order and I have bolded the ones I have done today.)
1. Masturbating. I could be having an unlimited amount of sex every single day of my life, but I still enjoy a good self-love session. Sometimes, I masturbate AFTER sex. Not because I didn’t get off … but because I fucking feel like it.
2. Blogging. Even if my blog is crap and I don’t have time to put thought into what it is for the day. Even if I don’t publish it … I must blog every single day.
3. Sex. Duh.
4. My ladies make me happy. Tarable, Rach, Squishy, Carol, Cass, Q, Tori, JonnaBonnana, Kim(s), Lirra, Sheesha, Leslie, Chrissie, Angie, Rosie, Chrissa … fuck I know I am forgetting a bitch or 2 but I know you will forgive me.
5. Accomplishing my goals. To know that I set something for myself and then push to make it happen … the best feeling ever.
6. My husband and my kids make me happy.
7. Sleeping in.
8. Reading a good book. Uninterrupted.
9. Making someone else laugh makes me happy.
10. Food makes me happy.
*BONUS*
11. A sexy fucking man makes me happy. Get naked and let me see the GOODS!
12. Shopping. Specifically bargain shopping. New stuff makes me happy.
I would like to recognize the following bloggers and give them the Happy 101 award. Because each of them make me happy every single day when I read their thoughts.
Squish @ Squishisms: Her view of the world makes me happy. Even when she is stabby. Actually MOSTLY when she is stabby.
Jaime @ Life Under Construction: She is hilarious to me. I enjoy her view of life.
MissTricky @ What Happens After: She is one of my oldest and dearest “internet friends”. Bes’ believe that we will be old bitties together one day. Face to Face styles.
Ms. Bethany @ Bethany’s World: She is who she is and says what she thinks in the most diplomatic way I have ever seen.
EroticaBitch @ Verbal Assassin: She is the most kick-assiest Army wife I have ever known.
Moog @ Mental Poo: He is just fucking hilar. Period.
Tori @ Dramatic Sigh: I don’t even have words for her fucking blogs sometimes.
Bradley @ A Jersey Kid: He used to be on a different blog which went on hiatus but is back ( I hope ) just in a different location. I missed him. He tops my favorite blog list ever in the history of blog lists.
Rosie @ Neurotic Ramblings: She is crazy as fuck but I love her. And when I say crazy, I mean it in the most complimentary way possible.
And last but definitely not least …
P.Q. @ DC Princess: She is my numbah1. She within her own crazy self makes me happy.
Now for the LMFAO Conversation between myself and Tarable.
Friday night has been decided as our Girls Night. We are going to start doing stuff together after work … because we deserve it and because we want to. Not necessarily just going to the bar or anything … but having dinner at new restaurants or seeing movies … or … well … going to the bar. Heh.
This last Friday we got pierced. She got her nose, and I got my cartilage in my ear done. Then we went and got some mini box wines and drove around blasting our favorite music.
When we got home, we picked a movie … “Funny People” and while drinking wine and watching it, we decided that we were hungry.
Me: “I want just ONE cheeseburger.”
Tarable: “Courtni! No!”
Me: “Fine.”
Tarable: “How would we get there anyway.”
Me: “Are you already hammered?”
Tarable: “Nooo ooooo…”
Me: “So what you are saying is …”
Tarable: “I am saying that I am off one. And I am going to tell the bitch in the drive thru that. Like, I want 3 cheeseburgers no onion I am off one.”
Me: “Mission accepted.”
So we are on our way to the land of the cheeseburger. I am admittedly waaaaaaaay more buzzed than I originally thought. The level of buzzed where every god damned thing is hilar.
We pull into the drivethru.
DtB: “Welcome to the land of the cheeseburger, may I take your order?”
Tarable (to me): “What was I supposed to say again?”
Me: “Can I have 4 cheeseburgers, no onions I am off one.”
Tarable (to DtB): “Can I have 4 cheesburgers no onioniamoffone.”
DtB: “What was that?”
Tarable: “4 cheeseburgers, no onionIamoffone.”
DtB: (Silence)
Me: Motherfucking DYING laughing.
Tarable: “FOUUUUUUUR CHEEEEEEEEEESEBURGERRRRRRRRRRRSSS, NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO ONION I.AM.OFF.ONE.”
At this point, I am fucking crying laughing because Tarable was mad at this DtB’s lack of understanding of her SLURRED ass statement of being off one. She probably had ZERO clue as to what “off one” really meant.
We pull up to the window.
Tarable: “Hi. Sorry. I am just off one.”
DtB didn’t laugh.
Me: “OMG I AM GOING TO PEE MY PANTS!”
Tarable: “Courtni!”
Me: (I literally could not look at her. I had my back to her and was all up IN the window.) “I cant helllllllllllp it!”
Tarable: “I am sorry. SHE is off one too.”
We pull up to the NEXT window.
Tarable: “You need to get it together. They are going to spit in our cheeseburgers.”
Me: “I cant help it.”
Tarable: “They might even deny us the cheeseburgers all together! One time I was kicked out of a drivethru for cursing too much!”
Me: “SNORT”
Tarable: “I am not kidding!”
The window opens. It is the SAME fucking lady.
Tarable: “Oh! It is YOU again! Maybe we should have stayed at the other window … no!?”
DtB didn’t laugh.
Me: “OhhhhhhhhhhmyfuckingGODrightnow!”
Tarable: (to the DtB) “Thanks for the cheeseburgers, you were a PEACH.”
So we pull away.
Me: (finally pulling it together) “I cannot believe that you had the audacity to fucking get mad at this fucking lady. This is how you sounded. TWICE “Can I get 4 cheeseburgers, no onionIamoffone.” and then when she was confused, you spoke to her like she was slow … like it was HER fault.”
Tarable: “Well! Whatever! HAHAHAHA!”
Me: “I am totally blogging about this.”
The end. I love us. We are awesome. Like, e = MC AWESOME.
What 10 things make YOU happy today!?
Tags: blogawards, cheeseburger, tarable, that one fast food place, the pursuit of happiness
YGWM & Friday Eye Candy
Jan 14, 2010 Completely Hypothetical and Generally Specific, Family, Friday Eye Candy, Out of Wicked's Mouth, P.O.E. Biz, Random, Ranteriffic, Sex, This Thing Called Marriage., You've Got Wicked Mail, bitch, love
Happy Friday!
You know the drill … come here, purge your bullshit so that you can enjoy the weekend.
Dear You,
Thank you so very much for knocking it the fuck off. You are much more pleasant to be around when you are not being a fucking baby.
————————————————————————————————————–
Dear D’s Penis,
Thank you for the meeting. I forgot that you even existed. Shit, I forgot that I even existed.
Love, Wicked’s Vagina
—————————————————————————————————————-
Dear Bank Account,
I am really sorry. It is not my fault that you are overdrawn. Soon this will all be resolved and we wont be poor.
Wicked
—————————————————————————————————————–
D,
I am so so so so so happy you are home. In the past week, you have made such an impact in the house. We all appreciate every single thing that you do for us. I missed you more than you will probably ever know.
PeeEss … thanks for the sex.
——————————————————————————————————————-
Dear Miley Cyrus,
I am pretty sure none of us believe that you are even close to a virgin. You are going straight to hell for lying about your aforementioned faux-ginity to you millions maybe even billions of fans.
Just admit that you have had some of the cahck.
P.S. If I hear you “singing” that “bumpin jay-z” song one more mother fucking time I may have a credit melt down. You suck.
——————————————————————————————————————–
Dear Baby Jesus,
There are several reasons why we need to have a conversation.
1) I am not the one.
2) Virginity movement?! Really?
3) Keep it pushin.
———————————————————————————————————————
Dear Tara,
Where did your wit go?!
Love Tarable.
———————————————————————————————————————-
Dear D,
Thank fucking sweet baby jesus that you are home.
Love, Tarable.
———————————————————————————————————————–
Dear Haiti,
I wish that I could swoop in and give you all of the food in the world. All of the food and water and money to fix it. But I don’t have it. My heart goes out to all of you and all of the families who lost someone.
————————————————————————————————————————
Dear Porn Movies,
Shut up. No one wants to hear you talk. We just want to see the sex. All of the sex. We don’t care about the plot or the story line or the climax … that is … unless the climax consists of a dude climaxing on a bitches face.
K?
—————————————————————————————————————————–
Dear Boyfriend,
I hope you have a fantastic time. I will miss you. Be safe. Look at all the boobs you can but reserve it for me.
Love Tarable
Pee Ess. We are having the sex when you get home. Like put it in my mouth.
——————————————————————————————————————————
Dear Mike O and Boyfriend,
You motor boatin’ sons of bitches.
Love Tarable
——————————————————————————————————————————
Dear D,
Did I mention, thank fucking GOD you are home!?!?
——————————————————————————————————————————-
Dear New Bitch,
I am SO FUCKING GLAD YOU ARE NOT HERE ANYMORE.
BYE BITCH BYE!
——————————————————————————————————————————-
Dear Ken Adams,
Heh.
——————————————————————————————————————————-
Dear Cari and Jim,
Congrats on the news that you are having a BOY!!!!!!! Baby Bush is more lucky than he knows to have such awesome people as parents.
——————————————————————————————————————————
Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnd for some CLASSIC eye candy!
Denzel Washington
Annnnnnnnnnd… Julia Roberts
As always … Friday Eye Candy suggestions are needed.
Preferred Peeves.
Jan 11, 2010 DUH, Family, Honest Tuesday's, Masturbate-able, Random, Ranteriffic, Relationships, Sex, Suck It!, This Thing Called Marriage.
Everyone has preferences. Me, being the picky bitch… has A LOT of them. I mean…. HELLA.
I prefer a man to smell like dryer sheets or soap than cologne. (same with a woman.)
I prefer lilies or wildflowers to roses.
I prefer brunettes to blondes.
I prefer unripe bananas to ripe bananas.
I prefer vodka to any other liquor.
I prefer box wine. (shutup.)
I prefer rough sex to gentle sex. (most of the time)
Speaking of sex, YAY for sex last night. YAY for waking me up with a nice fat D cock, and even more YAY to instantaneous orgasms. I swear, he only gets better with age. No man on the planet can work my body like he can, and in such a short amount of time sometimes.
In this case, gentle sex was better. Mainly because it had been 60 days and I wanted it that way.
*satisfied sigh*
I think I will predict that it is going to be tough to get out of bed in the morning. That might also be why I am in a mood today. A smart ass Cassie kind of mood. HEH.
Oh eat a dick Cass. *snicker* You know you are the smartassiest broad in my life. LMFAO.
Also, I have several pet peeves. I cant help it if little things bother me.
One of my biggest pet peeves is when more than one peeve happens in the same situation.
This makes for a peeved Wicked.
Pet peeve 1~ having to wake up and motivate before 9am without coffee.
Pet peeve 2~ drivers. of any kind. before coffee. (my road rage is awful FYI)
Pet peeve 3~ customer service reps who don’t speak English well enough to carry on a conversation. or actually provide you with the correct services that you asked for.
pet peeve 4~ said non English speaking person referring to you as lady instead of the name I was fucking born with.
Anyway, the other day I had this appointment. These fools want me there at 8 am.
8.
a
m
.
If you aren’t already aware, I am not a morning person. People usually steer clear until after my coffee is gone or after 10am, whichever comes first. So let me tell you how fucking angry I was to be in this place at 8am. And then to have to re-explain why I am here to this fucking guy FOUR fucking times for him to actually understand the words that were coming out of my mouth. (or so I thought anyway)
So I am sitting there, minding my own business, when no speaka comes up and says to me (which brings me to pet peeve … #5)
“Lady you need to ….”
Can you guess what pet peeve 5 is?
Yeah. Someone telling me what I need to do.
Anyfuck.
So I wait for an hour before 10am before coffee after telling this fucker 235673453 times what I needed to fucking have this guy tell me that he fucked up *gasp* and called the wrong department.
i.went.clean.the.fuck.off.
I scared him I think because someone saw me right away. Like less than a minute after I began on my sleep deprived, stress induced, lack of coffee rage.
All he could say was ‘lady’ over and over again. *fuming*
Then I had to listen to this bitch yap on and on about (pet peeve 5) what I need to fucking be doing. Even after I informed her what I was already doing that was what she was trying to tell me what I needed to be doing.
Pet peeve 6~ People talking to hear themselves talk.
What are some of your pet peeves?
Tags: pet peeves, preferences
