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
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
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?
The Many Reasons Why.
Dec 20, 2009 All Things Charli, All Things X, Family, Out of Wicked's Mouth, Parenting, Random, Relationships, Sex, This Thing Called Marriage., Thoughts and Perceptions, love, pillow talk
We are coming down to no time left of D’s extended vacation.
As we approach his return, I have started thinking about all of the reasons why I am so excited for him to come home.
Reason #1: Rhymes with Mex (ican).
Many people have made the comment to me about how the number of days I have gone without or the total number of days that I will have gone without is a drop in the bucket compared to theirs or whatever. Let me break something down for you. I am not living in a sexless, intimacy-less marriage. We (besides our moments of dysfunction…) genuinely love each other. Whether we are in a slump or not … he makes up for it with a good grudge fuck. So to not have it … especially not having it because I have been told that I CANT have it … makes me angry.
You better believe that someone is getting some immediately. Stat. On site.
Reason #2: He is more patient than I am. About everything. (Bitches I know you are surprised about that.)
So for a good couple of weeks, I am not going to be participating in anything kid related. You wanna tattle? Go to dad. You want some more motherfucking juice in your cup? Dad will get it. Period. Idontwantit. I am not participating in anything antagonized argument between these 2 little brat faces.
K?
Reason #3: I am lonely. (sadface)
My evenings usually consist of he and I in some sort of conversation. I don’t know about you all who are in relationships, but I actually enjoy spending time with my husband. We laugh our asses off. (Hello have you not read any of the Pillow Talk blogs?!)
Exactly. If anything, him being gone is a disservice to you as my loyal readers. Who looks forward to the next installment of our conversations?!
(me too. D is hilar)
Reason #5: I am tired of cleaning this fucking house.
I swear to Baby Jesus himself that I walk in circles around here picking shit up. Blocks. Socks. Paper. Crayons. Dishes. Fucking sucker sticks. (Thanks Ms.Moon) I get all excited that my house is FINALLY clean and then BLADAAAAAAW! More motherfucking blocks. More motherfucking SOCKS. More motherfucking dishes. Gah. Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.
It wouldn’t be so bad if that is ALL I FUCKING DID. But it isn’t. So, I think I dont want to anymore. K?
Reason #6: I don’t have time to cook.
So therefore I don’t eat as healthy as I would like to. This means I have gained some weight back. Not a lot, but still. I can tell a difference and I don’t like it. D cooked his awesome ass off, making sure that there was always something that I wanted to eat that I could eat with South Beach. Being that I am on the go all god damn day … I rarely have time to really think that far in advance. Ya dig?
Reason #7: Someone needs to have “The Talk” with Xavier.
Being as I don’t have a penis … (at least not one that is permanently attached to my body) … I dont think that I should be the one to do it. Just like I wouldn’t expect him to talk to Charli about female issues …
Bottom line: D needs to get some birds and bees business out in the air with Xavier. Pronto styles.
Reason 7.1: Charli misses the shit out of her dad.
Reason #8: I want to sleep.
Reason #9: Did I mention the SEX!?
Fucking aye.
I plan on:
picking a fight with his ass so we can have make up sex
lighting some candles so we can have that sweaty making love soap opera sex
putting on my candy apple red JSimpson FMP’s with some school girl stockings so we can have some inappropriate role play sex
wearing one of my fedora’s and an over sized white button up with my new HOT BOOTS so we can have some smooth criminal sex.
leaving for the weekend so we can have some all over the condo butt naked push the shit off the counter give it to me sideways sex.
a great deal of putitinmymouth oral sex.
And that is just the first few days. K? K.
Annnnnnnnnnnd Reason #10: I am spoiled.
I never saw it before. I am so god damn spoiled that it is stupid. I work my ass off every day and he takes care of everything the hell else.
I can honestly say that I am lost without him. So, a bitch is starting to count down. Get ready. It is about to get ugly.
Have a happy MondayBeforeChristmas!
Are you done shopping?
Have you been naughty or nice?
What have you asked Santa for this year?
Tags: birds and bees, Family, jail, marriage, Sex
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
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.
Love the One Your With, Etc.
Nov 5, 2009 Completely Hypothetical and Generally Specific, Friendship, Out with the Old Wicked in with the New Wicked, P.O.E. Biz, Relationships, The Tarably Wicked Show, This Thing Called Marriage., Thoughts and Perceptions, Wicked Wisdoms, love
I met up with a client today to finalize some paperwork. She told me that she would rather meet me in person than do business over the phone.
Word.
I am really pretty and well dressed so I was totally fine with that suggestion. Since Tarable and I carpool, she rolled her pretty ass along with.
This woman I met was the cutest old lady ever. E V E R. Walking into her house was like walking into my own grandmothers house. She reminded me of my grandmother. From hair to nails to laugh to her house full of trinkets. Tarable broke down in tears because it was a reminder of her grandmother … which curbed my emotions about my grandmother because I obviously went into mommy-mode. My grandmother passing was more of a relief than anything. I have talked about her before, and most of you know that she and I were quite close. But when you watch a martyr deteriorate slowly in front of you … it is a relief to see them pass and finally be with the man that they were waiting to meet in heaven.
That client, as well as another one that I talked with this week have both recently lost their spouses. It put me into that reflective mode where I attempt to picture my life without D. I know. It is not healthy to dwell on those thoughts, nor is it fucking close to what I should be doing to live positively.
Regardless. When a person talks about the loss of the person who they spent a great deal of their life with, it makes you really think about your person. The one who (insert Al Green) … no matter good or bad … happy or sad … you have chosen to spend a great deal of your life with. D is my person. And, past the bullshit … and the annoyances … I genuinely enjoy my life with him. He is my other half. The one who completes me.
Corny or not, I cannot imagine my life without him in it. In fact … cannot isn’t the correct word. WILL NOT is a better use of my vocabulary. I will not imagine him not here. Because if I do, I feel like a part of my heart is gone and I don’t like that kind of speculation.
I get that it is bound to happen eventually. I would rather us go together. Like a bittersweet symphony or something. Where we have our good-bye’s and make love one last time and we tell each other everything we never said but wanted to. That moment. Where we finish all of the unfinished business with each other and then hold hands while we make our final destination to heaven. Together.
No? Fuck you. Let me have my moment.
Tarable made such a wonderful statement tonight, as we left my client’s house and I had expressed my moment of reflection, imagining how I would live without D in my life.
She said: “You have 2 choices. Either move on and live life without him or go with him.”
As much as I wanted to punch her in her “I am right” fucking face right then … she was right. I am not going to not live life because his time to go was well before mine … and I am not going to die from a broken heart. I am going to die kicking and screaming and swinging at what death looks like to me in that moment.
All in all, this is a winded blog about how death makes me uncomfortable. Experiencing it first hand or through someone else’s experiences … it makes me uncomfortable. And sad. And reflective. And it makes me really appreciate all that is my person. Or my people. Kids, besties, hubbies alike. I appreciate their laughs. Their smiley faces. I even appreciate their flaws.
In regard to my life partner though. My spouse. My hubby … I appreciate that so much more than anyone else because when the house is quiet … and it is just he and I and the 4 walls … I know that every moment is an important one.
Even if that moment is when he assumes that I want to have a conversation with him while he is mid-dump.
Because THAT is how I roll. (I dont. Ever.)
Wicked Thought for the Day: Cherish and appreciate your people because one day they won’t be people anymore. They will consist of photographs and memories.
Also, I would like to just mention that it is not at all appropriate or fucking funny to twirl a person’s panties around like a flag in the office if you are trying to have a discreet intimate relationship. Apologize. Immediately.
K?
Have you ever keyed anyone’s car before?
Have you ever been nude in public?
What is something that makes you cringe?
Honest Tuesday’s — 2
Oct 26, 2009 All Things Charli, All Things X, Etc., Family, Honest Tuesday's, Out of Wicked's Mouth, Out with the Old Wicked in with the New Wicked, Parenting, Random, Ranteriffic, This Thing Called Marriage., Wicked & D Quotables
Welcome to round 2 of Honest Tuesday’s. It is kinda like TMIT’s but not raunchy … nor will it make you throw up in your mouth. It is more of a weekly check yourself blog. What are you lying to yourself about? What are you pretending to be okay with but really are not okay with? Who are you really?
So I will go first. You will then read, judge me (yes you will) and then purge your own brutal honesty. Be anonymous if you like. I don’t care. It will feel better to say something honest rather than keep it in and lie to yourself and others forever.
I wont judge. Much. *winkwinkwink*
On this Tuesday, I will admit that I am not as mean, brash, hard core as I may like to come across to others.
Shut up.
Look. I will beat a bitch down if I am 1) instigated against 2) drunk enough and provoked 3) in the mood to.
It is true. I am not a tough girl. All of the time anyway. Don’t get it twisted though. I am not scared of no bitch no how. (It is serious enough to have an intentional grammatical error in my blog to irritate most of you reading it.)
This is the thing though.
I am not young. I seem to have adapted this ability to “assess the situation” with my oldER age of 30. Meaning, if a bitch is all disrespectful like in my face or anyone’s face around me that I give a shit about … I have begun to make a decision based on factors.
FACTORS. Who in the fuck makes a decision based on FACTORS?! Oh that’s right. Adults do. Adults who apparently need to set an example for their offspring do. I have been handed this memo certified letter style by D to remind me of my temper/mouth/flailing fucking fist on too many an occasion.
This memo reads something like this:
Dear Wifey,
You should reconsider your hot headed-ness in the following situations:
1) Grocery stores. (That bitch really was that dumb. I promise. It wasn’t an intentional jam on your ankle with her grocery cart)
2) Public FAMILY gatherings. (It is possible that parents of other offspring do not know what the fuck they are doing. You YELLING it across multiple children in profane verbiage is not appropriate. Yes I agree with you. SILENTLY)
3) In the car. (There are kids in the car with you. THE BITCH CANNOT HEAR WHAT A CUNT SHE IS ON THE FREEWAY IN ANOTHER VEHICLE! Your children however, can hear. When Charli uses the word cunt in front of people … I guarantee you will be mortified.)
Please adhere to the above mentioned guidelines promptly to avoid me laying the smack down on your vulgar ass.
Love, D.
Hmph. So what you are saying is, that I am too old to be vulgar? NEVAH! I get it though. If I want my kids to grow up with more tack than I have, I need to put a mild cork in it. Fine. Fine D. You win this time. But let me get drunk enough around NO KIDS or POLICE or BOUNCERS. SAY I WONT GOD DAMNIT!
Also, along with the not being tough admittance for this Honest Tuesday … I will confess a little about my non-toughness. I am sure all of you beezos will get a big fat kick out of it too.
1) I cry at that one State Farm Commercial where a young M.J. is singing “I’ll Be There” at the very beginning. Every. Single. Time. Single tear styles.
2) When Xavier and Charli hug one another, I cry. Like a baby.
3) I cry at chick flicks.
4) Puppies and kitties melt my heart. So do babies. And love. And sentimental gestures. And poetry. And corny pop songs. Sometimes I cry about one or more of these things.
5) I cry after really great sex.
6) I like to do stupid things for people I like. For instance, every Valentines Day, I buy the little Valentine cards and leave them on my co-workers desks. Or I bring the ladies in my life daisies. Or I draw love notes on the fog in the bathroom for X or D to tell them that I love them when they get out of the shower.
See? Not tough. I am a big fucking sap actually.
Shhhh. No one can ever know this secret about me. Keep it between us, K?
What is your Honest Tuesday Confession???
What turns you off about the opposite sex?
What country would you like to visit most? Why?
Would you give a homeless person CPR?
Tags: fight, honesty, marriage, memo, Parenting, road rage, tough, tuesdays, vulgar
Pillow Talk — 4
Oct 7, 2009 This Thing Called Marriage., Wicked & D Quotables, Yum... or Lack There Of., pillow talk
Me: “Ellen page sounds like a rock star name.”
D “Yeah it does. i was gonna say that or a
old white lady name.”
Me: “An old white lady porn name?”
D “Why is it always about the porn with you? I was thinking about old white lady actress names and here you go with the porn.”
Me: “Like you never think about porn.”
D: “This isn’t about me. Old white lady names: Meryl Streep. Janice Dickenson, Jane Fonda.”
Me: “All very well could have been porn names.”
D: “You are wrong and you know it.”
Me: “Whatever I am right in my calling out of the old white lady porn names.”
Long Long Lonnnnnnnnnnnnng Pause.
Me rapping: “Playin workout tapes by Fonda! But Fonda aint got a motor in the back of her Honda!”
————————————————————————————————————-
(after hearing a moaning coming from the kitchen.)
Me: “What in the hell are you doing in there?”
D: “Nothing.”
Me: “You are scratching your balls, arent you?”
D: “Maybe.”
Me: “At the same time as making the cookies?”
D: “Maybe.”
Me: “OMG GROSS.”
D: “What? I haven’t opened the package yet.”
Me: “Wash your hands before touching the dough D.”
(insert long silence)
Me: “Omg. Are you still scratching your balls?”
D “It was the last scratch I swear.”
Me: “Er …”
D: “That was the best ball scratching session ever.”
Me: “Uh …”
D: “My balls are still tingling as we speak.”
Me: “Er …”
D: “It feels like a million kittens licking my balls.”
Me: “Wow …”
(insert long pause #2 before D walks out of the kitchen, mixing bowl in hand.)
Me: “D!!”
D: “What!?”
Me: “YOU DIDN’T WASH YOUR HANDS!”
D: “Uh?!”
Me: “GOWASHYOURHANDSTHISINSTANT.”
D: “I wasn’t even really scratching my balls just then. I was kidding!”
Me: “Really?!”
D: “I WASN’T!”
Me: “You are so god damn nasty.”
D: “You are blogging this, aren’t you?”
Me: “Really?!”
Have you ever met a famous person?
Which do you prefer, sunrises or sunsets?
Tags: baking cookies, ball scratcher, hand washing, marriage
Pillow Talk – 3
Sep 30, 2009 Etc., Masturbate-able, This Thing Called Marriage., Wicked & D Quotables, love, pillow talk
I jacked this idea from Lilu … so I gotta always show her some love. If you don’t read … you should.
D: “We are doing it tonight and I am not taking no for an answer.”
Me: “Wow. You are so romantic.”
D: “How could I make it sound more romantic?”
Me: “I don’t think it is possible to be any more romantic than that.”
D: “What if I said making love?”
Me: “Um no. This isn’t Days of Our Lives.”
D “Like sands thru the hourglass…”
Me: “You are such a cliche housewife.”
D: “Am not.”
Me: Really? Um … stories? Um … ice cream?”
D: “I do NOT watch stories.”
Me: “90210?”
D: “Shhhhh!!!”
Me: “Mmmhm.”
The next day:
D: “You fucking fell asleep!”
Me: “I didn’t say no.”
D: “That is some bullshit.”
Me: “Whatever. Me being asleep hasn’t stopped you before.”
D: (creepy laugh) “heheheheeheeehehe”
Me: “Exxxxxxactly. You missed the opportunity.”
D: “Fine.”
Me: “Did I just give you the green light to sleep fuck me?”
D: “NO TAKEBACKS!”
Me: “What are you, 5?”
D: “5 inches from the ground maybe.”
Me: “why do we even have conversations?”
D: “Blog material.”
Me: “I am again reminded that I love you.”
What tv sitcom parents would you have wanted if you had to pick?
Tags: conversation, marriage, pillow talk
Stuff and Things and Uhaul
Sep 27, 2009 All Things Charli, All Things X, Etc., Family, Out of Wicked's Mouth, P.O.E. Biz, Parenting, Random, Wicked MOMMY Wisdoms
Happy Monday! How’s the world through your peepers? Mine’s busy. Busy and exhausting.
Is it possible for exhausting to be a good thing? Because it feels good to come home and be completely exhausted but happy that I am. Kind-of like when I was doing school and work. Which leads me to my thought of being grateful that I was unable to take classes this fall quarter. I don’t know that it would have been the best decision. This way, I will be 4 months into my job and used to the change.
I cannot wait to get back to school though. Learning is such a high for me. I love coming home and sharing newly learned stuff with my family.
The hardest thing about this new change is Charli’s reaction to it. She is not okay with it, and makes every effort to let me know exactly how god damn mad she is when I leave for work each day. *sigh* It makes for a rough start to the work day when there is a 2 year old knock-down-drag-out in the driveway.
This complete disgust from my 2 year old has affected e v e r y t h i n g and e v e r y o n e. She does not let me leave her sight for any reason. I am not kidding. Like on Wednesday, when I just needed 5 more fucking minutes in my warm bed under my warm blanket … this child sat her 2 year old brown behind on the floor in front of my bedroom door and screamed until I came out. As soon as I hit the door she stopped crying. Then, as if that was not bad enough 1) before coffee and 2) before motherfucking coffee, she sat in the bathroom on the floor waiting for me to get out of the shower. If I closed the curtain, she freaked the fuck out.
Gah. I get it. I do. I miss her so much. We just need to fucking get past this point. Or I might freak the hell out.
It is tough missing the bedtime stories 5 days a week, and that I am only really able to have a conversation with my 9 year old first thing in the morning Monday-Thursday. You kinda take advantage of those little things that seem so minuscule.
I know that eventually we will all fall back into it, and eventually I will get used to it and eventually it wont pull on my mommy heart strings as bad as it has for the past almost 2 weeks.
The other day while I was sitting in traffic behind this U-haul truck I started rambling shit off in my head like I normally do when I am sitting in traffic. I started to think about the importance of U-haul’s.
Have you ever had to use one? I have many times. Some have been new beginnings. Some have been horrible endings. Mostly they have been the end of something that needed to end. My point is that U-haul is more significant than you might think it is. Think about how many you have seen in the past year. The past 5 years. Each one of those trucks had someone’s entire life packed into it, moving it on to a new beginning or a fresh start.
U-hauls have seen it all.
Divorces, marriages, new arrivals … the losses of loved ones. You walk into that smelly garage and drop $19.95 plus fuel and it saves your fucking life. Yes. I am going there. U-haul potentially saves your life from one fucking tragedy to the next.
I say that U-haul’s are completely under appreciated. They are the doormats of those in transition. No one ever tells a U-haul thank you for putting on its bright orange cape and saving it from the life ass whooping of the century. U-haul is an unsung hero.
You can laugh if you want to at my tribute to the Orange and White truck but the next time you are sitting behind/next to/beside one, you will be reminded of this blog and a time when U-haul saved you from that life ass-whooping.
If you had an imaginary friend, what would you name it and what would it’s special power be?
If you had an alter ego, what would it be, or better asked … WHO would your alter ego be?
