Living Wicked

Epic-tionary: The Definition of Camping

Aug 16, 2009 All Things Charli, All Things X, Current Events, Family, Friendship, The Tarably Wicked Show, This Thing Called Marriage., Wicked Wisdoms

Yep. I coined it. Someone show me the TM of them coming up with Epic-tionary before me… and I will totally give it to them.

No? Bueller? Thought so.

Anyway. With all of this use of the word “epic”, I have picked up the use a bit as well. Not much is considered epic for me. A few people I know use it so much that it takes away the luster of what epic actually means. Whatev though, I think that epic-worthy moments are definitely depending on the person/place/thing.

So, as I snuggled up to my husband in our tent and listened to 1) nature 2) the drunk orgy at the site next to us and 3) d sleep, I thought about how I might describe the camping trip. The only word I could think to use was …

Epic. Then my mind wandered to what epic means to me. Theeeeeeennnnnnnnn I thought how cool it would be if there was a dictionary with what normal things meant when they went from normal to epic. This is how “Epic-tionary” was born.

If one were to own a copy of this “Epic-tionary”, this is what the definition of camping would look like:

Camping: (KAMP EENG)

-Noun

1. A place where a group of awesome individuals lodge in a tent or other temporary (read: the back of an SUV) place of shelter.

2. Spodie. vodka, rum, watermelon, grapes, limeade, 7up. In my cup. Repeat.

3. S’mores.

4. The aforementioned awesome individuals being able to do their own thing, and also have a great time as a group.

5. Private drama REMAINING private.

6. Good food.

7. Surviving a 65mph windstorm. In. A. Tent.

7.1 collapsing tents
7.2 a certain 2 year old being a SOLDIER and not even waking up during the storm.
7.3 windstorm sex

8. CLIFF JUMPING. Even though I totally chickened out on the middle cliff… I still did the baby one and it was the best adrenaline rush.

9. Sitting around the campfire, and the kick-ass conversations that went along with it.

9.1 Tarable’s brother looks like Joe Jonas, and Jonna (MY FRIEND) tooooooootally called him out on it.
9.2 Saying the wrong thing, and manning up to it … and all of the adultness that went along with that.
9.3 Laughing until my stomach and cheeks hurt.

10. Bestfriendiversary dollar store gift traditions.

11. My kids are amazing campers. AH-May-ZING. Charli gets dirty. Xavier gets dirty. They play together so well. They don’t act a fool and bother the adults on the trip. (That is, except the people that they are supposed to bother. Uhm ME.)

12. Shots of Jameson whiskey.

13. Offending the campers next to us with our music and then Tara and her P.I.C. charming the pants off of him.

It took too long to get home. I hate traffic, but if that was the only thing I had to bitch about for the entire weekend… we are in fantastic shape. I love that I sat and laughed and chilled and bonded with 14 other people… including my own kids. No one fought… at least, not in my presence. As far as I am concerned, this trip went off without a hitch and I am so happy that those who made it, did.

I ate so bad. I drank too much. I cursed too loud. I had SO. MUCH. FUN. I love my little campers and I cannot wait for the next trip.

What did you do this weekend?
Are you looking forward to an upcoming trip/vacation?
What is your favorite part about camping?

Tags: camping, epic, jameson whiskey, kids, s'mores, spodie, tent, trademark, vodka, windstorm

YGWM, Friday Eye Candy, and I LOVE Camping!

Aug 13, 2009 All Things Charli, All Things X, Family, Friendship, Out of Wicked's Mouth, You've Got Wicked Mail

Sup Bitches?

In T minus 14 hours I will be off of work and heading out with a kick ass group of friends on a camping trip!

I love camping. LOVE it. I love s’mores, tent-sex, spoadies… and camp-fires.

I am stoked to get there. To set everything up, watch the kids play… and really enjoy my family and I’s first camping trip together.
With that said, I am quite positive that you will have the pleasure of a TMIT or 2 and some funny conversations due to the nature of this trip.

Now… without further adeau….

Dear Tyrese and Jeremy Piven,

I need to know if we are dating. As far as I am concerned, since I started following the both of you on Twitter, we are dating. Your lack of engagement in this relationship (i.e. RTing to my @’s and #’s) is quite disheartening. I am starting to wonder if maybe you think that you are too good to be my boyfriends.

Are you new? I have been crowned the Queen of Awesome.

This means that you need to recognize and bow at my feet of awesomeness. Get it together if you know what is good for you.

Dear POE,

I can think of sooooooooooo many more interesting things to do with my life than being an over paid data entry specialist.

1) Pull my hair out, strand by strand
2) Reading the phonebook
3) Counting rice granules

Lets try this: pat your folks on the back once in awhile. OR maybe have a leeeeeeeeeeeeettle bit of an idea as to what you are doing? Maybe some organization? MAYBE something to work toward?

I am bored. Challenge a bitch. K?

…. How do I tell you that you are being a cunt ….?

…. Yes, I really DID stop and get coffee this morning, KNOWING that I would be late to this meeting …. and no I do NOT care.

…. STOP BEING AN IDIOT! ….

…. DIVORCE ALREADY! I am sick of the rationalizations and justifications of why your marriage “isnt that bad” … HE DOESNT COME HOME. HE FUCKS OTHER WOMEN. REGULARLY. YOU KNOW IT.

…. You are not as cute as you think you are ….

…. I know you lied ….

…. if you don’t stop peeking over my shoulder. I KNOW YOU ARE TRYING TO SEE WHAT I AM DOING …

…. Okay, if we fuck will you stop drooling already? ….

Annnnnnnnnd the Friday Eye Candy is…. Bradley Motherfucking Cooper. He was a complete asshole in Wedding Crashers, but his performance in He’s Just Not That Into You won me over. Annnnnnnnd I hear he was hilarious in The Hangover.

Alright folks… you know the drill: Vent your week away so you can thoroughly enjoy your weekend.

Tags: camping, mail call, open letter, tgif

Rant-omly Scheduled Programming, Etc.

Aug 11, 2009 Completely Hypothetical and Generally Specific, Current Events, Fitness Forward, Friendship, P.O.E. Biz, Random, Ranteriffic, Wicked Wisdoms, Yum... or Lack There Of.

My friend/co-worker received her copy of my book today. It is the first bound version of Submissive Confessions that I have laid my hands on. No more of the copy paper print inside of a notebook versions.

I have a bound book. BOUND. On real paper. I smelled my OWN book’s newbooksmell. I touched the cover of the book that *I* wrote from my own (sick and twisted and oversexed) thoughts. My book. MINE.

So many people are asking me what it is that I would do with myself if the book took off and I became this Danielle Steele famous author. My answer? I am trying not to think about that too much. I am happy to wake up, click on my revenue report and see that I sold just ONE more book. If that leads to 1 MILLION books…

… well, I might pee my pants with excitement.

Things like that don’t just ‘happen’ for me. I want to say that it was either JP or FB (if you dont read them, you really should because their blogs rock my vaginasocks off) that said recently that when good things happen, it is because we motherfucking work our asses off to make them work. I can say that I wish that I had shit handed to me on a silver platter all I want, but realistically… I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I would make some minor changes. I guess that is one of the learning hurdles that comes with doing it yourself. Nothing that makes it a horrible purchase or anything, but stuff that *I* notice.

In other, more interesting (read: make me mad as fuck) news: My old landlord totally came to my job and served me papers for small claims court. The charges? $1400 in damages after we vacated.

Translation: Motherfucker is butthurt that I moved out 1July, cleaned the fuck out of the apartment, and didnt leave his ass a rent check. Why didn’t I leave him a rent check? Because I originally offered to give him 20 days to be out on July 5th … pay the 5 days … and all would be gravy train. He retorted with some bullshit about if ‘I was 5 days sooner I would be good to go with this but you owe July in 2 places now bullshit’.

My reply? “Okay.” /sarcastic tone.

Since the reason for taking me to small claims court is “damage” he cannot go backward and say it was due to unpaid rent. Period. Show me $1400 in damages in an apartment that 1) needed new carpet when I moved in 2) is an old, ghetto, run down piece of shit residence in the first place. G’head.

Landlord, you can motherfucking suck it. Don’t be mad because you tried to gangster me into another months rent because you ALREADY HAD ANOTHER APARTMENT on the market in the SAME building and KNEW you couldn’t rent it. Don’t be mad because you tried to prove that my *Nword* (IN YOUR WORDS) husband was a crack dealer and couldn’t. Don’t be mad because your wife is a nasty, nagging, bitchy beeyotch and you haven’t gotten laid in years.

Dont be mad. It aint my fault.

So we will see what happens.

Speaking of butthurt, there is this dumb bitch at my job who is so beyond insecure that it is comical. She is one of those people who will compliment you SPECIFICALLY so that you feel obligated to compliment them back.

Pretty sure I dont ever feel obligated to do a motherfucking thing I dont wanna.

So when a bitch says “Hey Skinny Minny” every single time she sees me … and after the 58th time of 1) not acknowledging her 100+pound,lessthan900calorieaday,borderlineanorexicweightloss and 2) I start ignoring her as if I haven’t worked with her in some facet for 5 years … it is a wonder why she would be.

Yeah, I know I could have been like “Hey. Could you stop maybe fishing for compliments? I dont need to be reminded of my weight. Be it loss or gain, your intent behind the comment is purely selfish and I am over it”

But I chose the cuntier road. The road less … ADULT if you will.

Whatever. Back to my story. So the broad is so insecure that she simply has to have all attention on her. Her weight. Her wedding. Her Her Her. I dont feed into. I have no problem being in the same space as you and completely ignore the fact that your ass is drilling holes into my neck. I also have no problem talking to everyone BUT you. I am just saying. You may think that the world owes you some explanation… or some validation… or even some recognition… but I dont. I wont. I refuse.

Especially when you have completely dropped friends who you spent a great deal of time with when you were fat. How is it that your friend is no longer your friend simply because she hasnt lost as much weight as you.

How shallow. I think that you are a horrible horrible person. HORRIBLE. I wouldnt want to go to your stupid wedding with your stupid fakeness if I was paid to go like ONE MILLION DOLLARS. And I am poor. So. That would take a lot to not go.

Bottom line: You are the definition of Human Being FAIL. One day, outside of work where I am allowed to say what I want and not get fired, I am going to tell you about yourself. Right now though, I really need my job. So I ignore.

So, I am on month 2.5 of my journey to losing another 25 pounds and living a healthier lifestyle and having a better relationship with food. I have slipped, binged (i.e. I just ate 2 frosted strawberry poptarts om nom nom) but over-all I am 85% successfully following this the way that I should. Why only 85%? Because I enjoy wine. I have a bite or 4 of mashed potatoes every now and again. I <3 the occasional Dick's or even crapdonalds cheeseburger.

Anyway, I have been introduced to Spaghetti Squash. You cook it per the directions, and you serve it like spaghetti noodles. There really is not a flavor to it, so whatever you serve with it, be it meat sauce, alfredo… the texture is a bit veggie like, but it is so complimentary and similar to spaghetti noodles… that I can live with with that change.

(I havent tried this but) Apparently you can also slice it and use it similar to lasagna noodles with the same result.

If you are a pasta freak like me, I suggest trying it. It is honestly really really good.

Also, I found some “SB” approved cookie recipes. I haven’t tried them yet, but I plan to so we can bring them along with us camping.

Lastly, I would like to rant about this little thing I like to call “Dating Games”.

The above image … in a picture … is what I think of them. I have said before that I love love and alllllllllll that goes in with it. But, I take it back. I do not love. I [X] DISLIKE dating games.

I dislike them like I dislike:

Wearing pants.
My job.
My nosy co-worker
Mayonnaise

I am surrounded by these games. S U R R O U N D E D . The waiting for the text message. “Does she want to hang out with me” Did I say the wrong thing? Am I being too needy. Is he seeing other people?

Blah. Just say what you need to say already.
I am so fucking over headgameiwannakeepyouatarmslengthiwanttofuckbutdontfuckanyoneelse bullshit.

The end.
Anyway, rant if you wish. You know the floor is open.
Uhhh… what is the one food you would make have no dietary side affects and you could eat an unlimited amount without ever getting sick by doing so?
How are you doing with your own strides toward healthier living? (if you are participating)

Oh, and best, most trainwreck thing I have seen all day: http://whythefuckdoyouhaveakid.com/ <– just browse these lovely pics.

Tags: camping, dating, food, lulu.com, published, south beach diet, spaghetti squash, Submissive Confessions, weight loss, work drama

Popping My TMI Thursday Cherry: “Fuck You Like a Whaaaa?”

Apr 1, 2009 Friendship, Masturbate-able, Out of Wicked's Mouth, Random, Relationships, Sex, TMI Thursday's

So, because of an informal challenge, and because I have lived my life in a whirlwind of TMI… I am jumping on the TMI Thursday bandwagon.

Ready, Set, GO!

Once upon my old ass, I was allowed to go on my very first camping trip without parental supervision. I had to beg and plead to get my parents to allow it… but they finally caved. I am pretty sure that I left out the fact that I was going on this trip with my smokin’ football playing boyfriend.

*GASP!!* (who does that?!)

So we go to this kick ass location over the mountains. It was 6-8 of us rowdy drunken teenagers, with loud music and a lot of pot and alcohol. As soon as you could say “Freedom” we were commencing to getting wasted, some of us double-fisting bottles of Strawberry Hill Boones. (Who is old enough to remember those days of underage debauchery?!)

I don’t remember much, other than that there was a huge hill that we ran to the top of and rolled down several times, the group of about 20 campers at the campsite next to ours, and the fact that hunky football boy and I had yet to have sex. Annnnnnnnnnnnnd the fact that it was just him and I in a tent. Alone.

*Queue Porn Music*

So we are all sitting around a campfire, drunk off of our asses. I may or may not have taken another illegal substance other than the previously mentioned 2… but again, I have little memory of details. (alcohol and age dont mix I swear) HFB and I start making out all over the place, and before I knew it, we were stumbling back to our tent and ripping each other’s clothes off.

I did not consider the location of 1) our campsite and 2) our tent in the campsite. We were dead center of the campground. Our site and our tent.

We fell out in fits of giggles at the fact that the only condoms that *I* (not him, douche) brought were brightly colored ones. We argued (loudly, apparently) at which color to use… finally (loudly) deciding on the red one. (which, really looked hot pink when it was stretched out… I do remember that.) And then it happened. I, like the good little sex pistol that I was, flipped over into the infamous “face-down-ass-up” position.

And then… out of nowhere…

“FUCK ME LIKE A FOOTBALL PLAYER!!!!!!!!!!!!”

First, complete silence.

Second, a sporadic snort and giggle.

Then, the ENTIRE campground burst into uncontrollable laughter. Like, ROARING laughter.

What do I do? (Do you really have to ask???) “Well!? What are you waiting for??” I demand.

So he did. (He knew what was good for him.) Well, I dont really know what fucking me like a football player is… but I do know that he fucked the ever living shit out of me.

And it was goooooooooo oooood.

It was a live porn show for the campground. I was 16. Right. The next day, sober… (only for a hot second before I realized that in order to endure the humiliation that my mouth YET AGAIN caused me…) I was mortified. After a few bottles of Boones, I laughed right along with them. The remainder of the weekend random people all over the campground would shout the famous last words… “FUCK ME LIKE A FOOTBALL PLAYER!!!” into the night, echoing out into the air.

And… of course I never lived it down. I run into old friends who werent even THERE… and they still call me out for it.

*sigh*

So there it is. My very first memorable TMI moment. Be prepared for more where that came from.

To read other kick ass TMI posts, Visit LiLu. She always links them on her post. PQ posted a great one today as well.

Have you ever publicly humiliated yourself in a moment of sexual arousal?
What is your most embarrassing or funniest sex moment?

Tags: Boone's, camping, condom, drunk, football player, humiliation, Sex, tent, TMI Thursday's