Post Holiday Open Letters.

Happy MondayafterChristmas!

I apologize for no Friday Eye Candy … or a venting place for the weekly purges … but it was in fact Christmas … and I figured it would be better to host your weekly venting place after the holidays and the after holiday sale madness.

Good decision?

Commence the open letters:

Tara is chomping at the bit to put some open letters out there into the privacy of her own internet space:

Dear Where Do You Want to Start,

I am fucking over it. I am tired of my busy ass life. I just want to relax with my hot boyfriends dick in my mouth. K!? (Yeah she went there)

I do not want to deal with anymore:
1) Holiday fucking drivers.
2) Excuse: It’s Christmas Time.
3) Ghey ass, unreliable, (don’t make sense) Holiday Hours
4) Even though I love and absolutely adore holiday parties, I am over them. I am sick of every single weekend being booked and having to stress about what to wear, did I already wear that to a holiday party where there were pictures … etc. Not only that, but I am fucking sick of impressing people and hanging out with people that I don’t like. And, I would rather have my hot boyfriends dick in my mouth. Also, get the holiday food out of my face. Because none of it is friendly to my ass size. K?! (cosigning on #4)
5) Done.

Love, Tarable

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Dear Muffin Top,

You hurt my feelings. You are not cute. You make me feel like all of the bitches I make fun of, and not be excited about fitting into my new size 11 jeans. I haven’t been a size 11 since I was born. Even if I bought a bigger size, it would be just as bad because you would move to my ass and make it look like I pooped my pants and that is not fair.

Get out of here you muffiny fuckin bitch.
Tarable

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Dear You,

I am over it. I am over it for my friend who is also over it. She wants to put it in her mouth but you are being a baby. So why don’t you take your crying tears and your kleenex box and cry about it via text.

Just saying.

Tarable.

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Dear Keanu Reeves,

Can I just fucking touch it? I have been waiting. WAITING. I have wanted to touch it since I was 7. Just let me touch it. Sorry hot boyfriend.

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Dear Tara,

Really? A snorer? Of allll the non sexy things you could ever do? Snore? Now you have to wear Breathe Right Strips for your hot boyfriend whos dick you want to put in your mouth to let you sleep over. Grow up its not that bad.

Tarable

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Dear Wine,

Thank you. (No seriously)

Love, Tarable

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Dear Family,

Thank you for not being crazy, psychotic, dysfunctional fuck faces this Christmas. It was proof that we can always get along.

Love Tara

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Dear Donovan,

Fuck you. (Oh!) I hate you right now. I am gonna write you a letter because I love you but I kinda hate you right now. When you come home you better walk in the door, smile and make it all better (Word) annnnnnnnnnnnnd you better not do this bullshit EVER AGAIN or I will personally do something violent and that will not make you smile to you. You are the one that made the analogy of 5 fingers and then cut your own finger the hell off. On both hands. (Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaayum) Dont ever do it again. K? Gah. We need you here and if you dont see that … I don’t know what to tell you.

I miss you.

Love Me

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And now for mine.

Dear Tarable,

You need to knock it off. You know what “it” is. You don’t always get your way when you want it. If you did, this one would be less interesting.

Don’t make me tell you again.

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Dear You,

Blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah

And also.

Blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah

Oh. By the way.

Blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah

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Dear Carbohydrates,

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck you. I would like to enjoy a slice or 9 of bread without gaining 23537y457754742w3 pounds while doing it.

I LIKE YOU BUT I CANT HAVE YOU AND IT ISNT FAIR AND IT HURTS MY FEELINGS.

BLahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhIwantsomechipsahoy.andacheeseburger.andsomepadthai.andsomemacaroniandcheese.andpizza.andstuffing.withgravy.andmashedpotatoes.andbreadandbutter.andpastaexceptforolivegarden.andredlobstercheddargarlicbiscuits.clamchowderinabreadbowl.chocolate.chipsandqueso.girlscoutcookies.alsosourpatchkids.andsoda.andstickyricewithpenutsauceonitandsomesrirachatoo.anythingfried.andagrilledcheesesandwichwithamericancheesepandaexpress.

The end. Love TarablyWicked

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Dear Vagina,

It is almost over. You have gone the long haul and I am sure the big black cardboard check at the finish line will pay the winner (you) really REALLY WELL. Not to mention, you are (not that you werent already) gonna be really tiny. Like as if you had vagina bypass surgery or something. Teeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeenytinyvagina.

I am proud of your sticktoitiveness.

Wicked

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Dear Boyfriend, (From Girlfriend)

It has been several days since we have fucked. I would like for you to meet me in that one place you suggested the other day so you can bend me over and let me have it.

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Dear Xavier,

Knock it the fuck off!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You are such a little argumentative fucker right now and I dont fucking get it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHUTUP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Love Tara and Mom!

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Dear Washington Strip Clubs,

Why can’t you show me a pretty vagine? Why are the bitches here skanky, disease infested messes? Can I just come on a Friday night and get an alcoholic beverage while staring at pretty vajay dance all in my business because you do not provide that here.

I am just sayin.

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Dear Hair,

Pick one.

Tarable

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Dear Readers,

Thanks for Reading. Good Night.

TarablyWicked

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And for some Eye Candy: Jamie Dornan

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TMIThursday: Uninvited PenisGuest & Cherry Pop.

Hello my gluttons for TMI Punishment!

You know the drill… I blog about totally inappropriate shit… (sometimes literally) and sometimes, you throw up in your mouth a bit.

If you are interested in participating, reading more train wreck worthy blogs…

Click the pic below and enter the hub of TMI Thursday….

TMI Thursday

Today’s TMIT will be like the mixtape of TMIT’s. I have a few short, totally related stories that are starring none other than the love of my life, D. He has been so gracious (read: given no choice) to allow me to put his majorly hilar. and totally inebriated fuck-ups.

Once upon a responsible life of 2 kids and responsibilities… there lived a me and D. We had parties. They were parties that consisted of a great deal (read: pyramid’s of beer cans) of alcohol present among other favors that could be punishable in a court of law if caught participating in. (I will leave that to your own wicked imaginations) So we would get smashed. Completely belligerent. The most affected? D.

gasp

I know, right!? Shocking. Especially those of you who knew him then. Bwahahaha.

Annnnnnyfuckingway.

Story number 1 of Uninvited PenisGuest:

We are all hanging out. Our good friend brought his new but old but new girlfriend over to hang out, and (I am almost positive) introduce us to her for the first time. We were all sitting in the living room, watching TV. D and our friend get up to smoke on the deck outside. Our loveseat sat perpendicular to the sliding glass door. New but old but new girlfriend was totally zoned out, watching the movie with her back to the slider. I was across the room on the couch.

Something told me to look up at what the boys were doing, and when I did, I was horrified to see D standing over the back of the loveseat, his penis rested gently on her shoulder. Horrified, I make eye contact with him. He seems to think the event is epic, (that’s what she said… I get it) and when he saw the look on my face … I am pretty sure that was when his brain cells connected as to how NOT COOL it actually was.

We both dart our eyes to our friend, who (rightfully) was livid.

Because none of us wanted new but old but new girlfriend to be made to feel awkward, this was the silent-eye-contact convo that happened.

Friend: “Are you fucking for real?”
D: “So this is not okay?”
Me: “Are you really asking us that?”
Friend: “Get your DICK off of my girls shoulder, dog. Now.”
D: “Are you sure? I mean…”
Friend: “NOW.”
D: (backing up slowly) “My bad, dog.”
Me: (looking at new but old but new girlfriend to see if she noticed. she didnt.) “THANK YOU.”
Friend: “I should fuck you up right now.”
D: “No disrespect. I thought it was funny.”
Friend: “SO not funny.”
Me: “Yeah. Like not even close to funny.”
D: (pathetic face)

Meet my husband. The Puthispenisonhershoulder Guy.

Uninvited PenisGuest Story # 2.

At one of the many parties we hosted, the knife hit was discovered. Or rediscovered. Whatever. Anyway, amongst the heavy drinking and endless knife hits, D became … what is the word I am looking for?! W A S T E D. Right. Wasted. Thanks.

After a several minutes, we all kinda stopped and looked around. D was missing. I scan the living room and the deck. I wander around to the dark staircase and decide to head up to see if he passed out upstairs. Instead, I trip over him. He was passed out face first, on the staircase, his pants and boxer briefs at his ankles.

*le sigh* Decisions, Decisions.

A good wife would have channeled her inner secret squirrel stealth pants pulling up skills and put him to bed.

good_wife

Heh. I am NOT a good wife.

I snorted and hollered for all of our equally inebriated friends to come see D and his ballsandmore spread eagle on the staircase.

If I would have had a camera then … I would have taken a picture. And I would still have it and I would post that shit on this blog.

Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuut I dont. So you are all left to picture my husband and his balls passed out on a staircase. You are welcome.

marriage-death-demotivational-poster

Last but not least… A TMIT feature from the archives of Tarable:

“Okay so I had liked this guy since I was a freshman. Junior year rolls around and we are at a party at my friend’s house. As high school parties go we were all too drunk off some random fruity vodka drink and the guy I liked was there. One thing lead to another and we ended up in an upstairs bedroom. You may assume that we had sex, but we didn’t. At the time I was the big V and didn’t want to yet, but we pretty much did everything else. When Dan woke us up the next morning he completely freaked out on us.

Boy I liked and I jumped up to blood smeared sheets and clothes. GROSS!

The worst part was that it was on his face! Ask me how quick everyone at school found out that he popped my cherry.”

There you have it folks, 3 TMIT’s for your Thursday enjoyment.

As always, (but you never do) feel free to share your own TMIT’s, links to your TMIT blogs or whatever.

And… if you could be a kind of “pop” what flavor would YOU be?

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TwitterBlogged

I scoured my old blogs on that one place I never log into anymore for a blog I wrote about twitterpation. I could not find it. That’s okay though… it just means I get to write a cooler, way more awesome blog on the topic.

Twitterpated
1)to be completely enamored with someone/something.
2) the flighty exciting feeling you get when you think about/see the object of your affection.
3) romantically excited (i.e.: aroused)
4) the ever increasing acceleration of heartbeat and body temperature as a result of being engulfed amidst the exhilaration and joy of being/having a romantic entity in someone’s life.

“When he smiled at her, the rush of warm, fuzzy, excited sensations that filled her made her realize she was completely twitterpated with this man.”

spring_here

Spring is in the air. The birds are a’chirpin. The flowers are in bloom. I can see the sun peeking flirtatiously from behind that big, billowing cloud in the sky above me. With spring comes love. And babies. *squeeee* Folks who were shacked up by the fire, tryna keep warm and cozy were also makin’ babies!

(‘cept me. I <3 the invention of birth control)

As I was saying… most of you who know me and read my blogs are fully aware of the fact that I am in love with love. The smell of it. The taste of it. The swelling of 2 hearts simultaneously, making one big mushy pot of love stew.

Mmmmm… want a bite?

twitterpated

I know a couple of people who have found themselves in a big hot steaming pile of twitterpated.

One of these people is so over the moon that it is a wonder how she performs her normal daily tasks. She, like me, loves love. Like, loooooooooooooves it. In this  general situation, I am elated that she has quite possibly found someone who will quite probably see her for who she is and quite hopefully will love her wholly. She is twitterobsessed.

The other… well… she is a brat about twitterpation. I cannot put my finger on it, but something tells me that her adoration of all things swooning mushy love is way deeper than that of which she portrays to the people whom she interacts with. She brings up all of the reasons why she ‘isn’t and should not be twitterpated.’ She is in twitterdenial.

What is so interesting about these 2 hypothetically specific and totally random situations is the approach that each of them have about their feelings. This, the act of human behavior in similarly relatable situations of the heart is one of the main reasons why I am so interested in the therapy profession. Each of us feels a certain way about the SAME thing, but our specific feeling… the way we approach it and of course how we own it or push it away cannot be identical to another person.

It is like matters of the heart possess their own unique set of prints.

fingerprint-cartoon-faces-thumb4433688

I can say that I have felt the EXACT same way as another person, but truth be told, I havent. Not exactly. Similarly yes… but a feeling or reaction cannot be mimicked to that specific degree.

So I am present in 2 hypothetically specific and totally random situations. (heh. These bitches are sooo going to kill me) I listen and provide awesomely witty banter when needed. What they probably weren’t aware of until now is that I am analyzing and processing and learning about the different reactions and motivations that each of us naturally possess. Hypothetically speaking of course. *snicker*

The conclusion that I have come to is that whether you are in twitterdenial or twitterobsession… it all boils down to the same thing. Love. It is a high that cannot be recreated with a chemical substance; meaning you cannot create a ‘love pill’ to feel the way you felt when you were first in love. You have to actually go through the motions in order to recieve your reward.

Love, as hard as it is… and as much as it sucks sometimes to fight for that love… Is the most rewarding feeling in the fucking world.

Oh and pee ess: I am not saying that the 2 totally hypothetical and generally specific friends above are in love. What I am saying is that to feel twitterpated can lead to love… and sometimes is mistaken for love… when really it is the high from finding someone to share a moment in your life with.

Like I hypothetically reminded each of them today… and I hope that some of you reading will take into consideration if it related/s to you at some point in your life is … the most important thing in the world is to remember that you cannot control the outcome of love… in any of its forms. You absolutely have to throw your hands up and allow what is meant to be to naturally take its course.

Because every heart-print is a lesson.

life_is_a_school_love_is_the_lesson_bumper_sticker-p128123943989283767trl0_400

Have you learned any love-lessons recently, or know anyone who has?
What does being twitterpated mean to you? Are you twitterpated? What kind of twitterpated are you?
(If a bitch dares to mention that fucking WEBSITE ON MY BLOG…)
Do you have any hypothetical and generally specific friends that are going through something like this? What kind of twitterpated are they?

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The Importance of Girlfriends

girlfriends-embroidery-design-630

I have always been that one girl that had the bazillion guy friends, with maybe 1 or 2 girls that I rolled with regularly. Notice I didn’t refer to them as ‘friends’. This is because I have never had that core group of girlfriends in my life.

At least, not until now.

girlfriends-forever

As a kid we moved. At least 1 time every year from 3rd grade until 9th grade so I never really had the opportunity to ever build and develop friend foundations with anyone, let alone females. We ladies are a territorial, catty bunch of bitches. It is hard to accept a new face into the close knit group that we are so used to sharing, gossiping, and crying with. Because of this, I have always been the odd girl out. The one who didn’t get the inside joke. The one who didn’t make it in group photos or on the list for the hottest slumber parties in the class. It used to hurt. I used to really feel bitter about the lack of girlfriend influence. Now, I see the blessing in it.

What is that, you ask?

I have watched several of my now besties lose childhood friends left and right within the past 2-5 years. Why? There are many many factors. I think that most often it is because we are different as adults then we were as tweens or teenagers.  Add husbands/partners and kids to the mix… and for the most part our paradigms shift. I haven’t really gone through this loss of history, at least not in the same way. The girlfriends I have in my life are (for the most part) already grown. They have found themselves and know what they want and who they want to experience with them. I feel this connection of common ground between us, where it would take a massive event… or an obstacle to really part our souls.

The blessing lies in that my girlfriends are going to be there when we are old and grey. We will be just as bitchy as we are now… and just as connected at the soul. I feel as if I have grown up with each of them… and indirectly I think I have. Even if we did not meet as children, or teenagers… We will grow old together. I prefer that to anything else.

girlfriends

Today is the eve of the anniversary of one of the most memorable life moments for me… and for a core group of my girlfriends. A year ago today we travelled from opposite corners of the country to celebrate our friend’s birthday. Some had never met, not even in email conversation. Some had connected on a special trip only months beforehand. Some had simply commented the occasional blog. Regardless of circumstance, we came together and formed a sister-ship. A Tribe, if you will.

Girlfriends in my life are important to me because they are there to tell me when I am being overdramatic. And when I need to yell to them… not AT them. They are important because sometimes I am too hard on myself and see myself in a horrible light; and they tell me the truth. My girlfriends are important because they truly love me for who I am. They do not put stipulations on me in order to be accepted. My girlfriends are beautiful. And amazing women. And wonderful human beings. They are funny and wonderful and I am thankful for each of them.

That weekend and this past weekend started my reflection of the importance of girlfriends. Deny it if you must, but the truth is we all need them. As much as I detest bitches in every size, shape and color… I love the ones that I love with my whole heart and soul. If you have a group of girlfriends, let them know you love them today… as well as every single day… because with out them, a sense of emptiness will consume you.

‘To find out a girl’s faults, praise her to her girlfriends.’
Franklin, Benjamin

Did you grow up with a core group of friends?
Are you still friends with any of them?
Have you gone through the ‘grow apart stage’?
Why are your girlfriends important to you?

Happy Birthday, Carol! I know I speak for all when I say that I wish I could be there to celebrate with you.

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Small Sacrifices: Are they worth making?

Being married, I tend to get a flood of girlfriends and/or acquaintances who seek advice or a person to vent to about their current flings. Most of the advice seekers are looking for confirmation more than actual what-to-do’s regarding the penis provider.

I dont think it is because of the fact that I have been married for 8 years. I mean, I am sure that it has something to do with it, but I think it is more along the lines of my non-sugar coating ways. I dont ever beat around the advice bush when someone asks me my opinion, because… why lie? Why pad the truth? Most people get the fact by now that they just plain dont ask if they are looking for a lie response.

I dont have a feeling filter.

As I am sure that many have asked about my relationship, I find myself constantly asking myself why women put up with the jackasses that they have chosen to spend their time with. Maybe that is why I never ask for advice regarding my own relationship unless I really am stumped. I am aware of the fact that I have made my bed. There is no need to ask anyone to crawl under my drama covers and spoon me.

The fact is, you already know where the relationship is going to go if you have to second guess any decision you have made in the past.

What chaps my ass time and time again, are those who go into a relationship and then try to fix shit. Or, they expect that their new partner will begin to evolve. The quirks that were funny in the twitterpated stage are no longer that humorous. It is no longer cute to make jokes about all things ‘your relationship’.

Boys don’t always get that. Their transition into relationship mode is ofter slower and more of a pain in the ass than anything anyone could ever imagine. Boys unintentionally play games and push buttons and test boundaries.

Why? I don’t fucking know. The only penis I provide is the one I strap on. Otherwise, it is all vagina all the time. I enjoy possessing the pussy in the relationship. Pussy is power. . . But that is an entirely different blog within itself.

Moving on. I have advice for you ladies that are unsure what your next move is in the relationship you are currently in or getting ready to dive into in the near future. It may sting a little… but get the fuck over it.

1: If he is already engaged in the following, do not expect him to EVER give them up for you:
-Porn.
-Football, or any major sport for that matter.
-Guy’s Night of ANY sort.
-His boys. Even the ones that you hate.
-His mother.

2: If he does not take anything seriously before you commit, the likelyhood of him doing it after is very slim… to not at all.

3. He will not turn into a spontaneous romantic. He either has it, or he doesnt. You cannot get mad at him for not having that romantic bone.

4. There is no teaching a man to love to give oral.

Every single one of you out there out on the diving board of love need to understand something very important: In order for a relationship to work, and to be healthy in all aspects… You absolutely must learn to accept things about your partner that you cannot change. Because there are things that just will always remain.

Once you accept this fact in your life, you will find yourself at peace with who you are and what you need in a partner.

If you made a list of things that you would never sacrifice or change for any relationship… what would they be?
What things could you not live with in a relationship?
Have you had to end a relationship because of things that you could not accept about another person? Did you regret your decision?
Have you ever been dumped because of things that you were not willing to sacrifice for a person? Did you regret your decision?

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