February 2009 Archives
Johnny, Are You Queer?
Just another crazy dating story. I wish I was making this stuff up, but it’s 100% true. I lived it!
I was set up with “Dr. Love” through a mutual friend. She had gone to high school with him and I had met him a few times over the years. He had always seemed like a fun guy and he was getting ready to move back to the area after just graduating from medical school. He had also just broken up with his girlfriend of four years [red flag #1] and he told my friend that he was ready to start dating again.
So we were set up and hit it off right away. He was cute, tall, funny, a doctor, AND a good kisser! He’d also bought his own condo and at that time in my life I had never dated anyone who was such an adult. He was one of those “great on paper” guys. I thought it was all too good to be true.
Well…did I mention that there was a period of time when his group of friends thought he might be gay? I only mention that because of what happened next. We were out drinking one night [red flag #2-we drank A LOT] and somehow the conversation turned to gay bars. Dr. Love started telling me that when he was in medical school he and his friend went to a gay bar just to see what it was like. I’m thinking, “Do straight men do that?” But it gets worse. While they’re at the gay bar, Dr. L got up to use the bathroom. While he’s peeing at the urinal, a gay man came up behind him, spun him around, and told him he’d been wanting to kiss him all night! And what does Dr. L do? Punch him or perhaps tell him he’s not gay? NO! He started making out with him!!
I am dumbfounded (and drunk) by this point and I asked him why he made out with him. Dr. L replies, “I just wanted to know what it was like to kiss a guy. It’s the same as kissing a girl except he had a beard.” That is his actual quote because I am coping directly from the journal I kept back then. Yeah, I HAD to write that shit down immediately. I believe if anyone is keeping track, that would be red flag #3. And because I really, really liked him, I shrugged it off. Okay not really, I was very freaked out by it. I just didn’t say anything.
The straw that broke the camel’s back was my reaction to red flag #4. I honestly think this is why he broke up with me. I am a fairly liberal person, but even I have my boundaries. We were out drinking on another night (surprise) and we started talking about men who use hookers (didn’t we have the best topics of conversation?) Dr. L is trying a little too hard to convince me that it’s no big deal and all men have used one. I didn’t buy that bullshit so he proceeds to tell me about the time he and his then girlfriend went to Amsterdam. She was “very liberal” and bought him a blowjob from a hooker in the Red Light District. His girlfriend then SAT THERE AND WATCHED THE WHOLE THING! I freaked the fuck out. That shit may be cool in Amsterdam, but come on! We live in Cental IL for God’s sake! I’m sure he felt like an ass for telling me this. A week later he called and broke up with me.
He got married a couple years ago (to a woman, ha!) and I wonder if he ever told his wife about these things or did he learn his lesson and keep his mouth shut?
The Ripping O’ The Pubes
For most of my life I have worked in retail. It started out as a part-time job while I was in college and it turned into a full blown career. For most of that time, I worked in the cosmetic department of a large retail store. Yes, I was one of those women who tries to get you to dip into your 401(k) to buy hundreds of dollars worth of products to avoid the unavoidable aging process. My love of make-up and skincare led me to go to school to become an esthetician. My parents still cannot pronounce that word.
After I graduated from cosmetology school, I worked at a pretty well known salon/dayspa in our area. I performed all kind of services and loved doing most of them. I repeat, most of them. The one thing I hated was waxing. I didn’t mind doing facial waxing, but body waxing was another story. Here’s a list of my all-time yuckiest clients and what they made me do to them.
1. “Robby.” Robby was a young kid, maybe 20 yrs. old, who was so painfully shy, his MOTHER called to make the appointment for him. She told me on the phone that Robby was quite hairy and embarassed about it. She thought it would boost his self-esteem to have his back waxed. Yes, mom, great idea! For a kid who is already socially awkward, getting naked in front of a pretty young girl so she can rip off his disgusting body hair will ABSOLUTLY boost his self-worth. His mom didn’t lie about Robby being hairy. This kid must have been the illegitimate offspring of Robin Williams and Bigfoot. I actually had to trim his jet black back hair with scissors first because it was so long! And the fact that he was sweating profusly the entire time meant the wax wouldn’t stick so it took FOREVER. Plus, the hair follicles started bleeding so it was a bloody, sweaty, waxy fucking mess. At the end of our TWO HOUR session, my white lab coat was completely covered in his back hair. As I swept up the MOUND of hair on the floor I considered donating that shit to make wigs for kids with cancer. My gag reflex is kicking in as I am writing and reliving this whole ordeal. I wanted to shower immediately after he left. Sidenote- Robby never came back for his follow-up waxing.
2. “Karen.” Karen was a regular bikini wax client who made one major mistake. You would think one would wear their Sunday best panties when they visit their waxer, just like I hope you would for the gyno. Right? Wrong! Every damn time that Karen came in she would wear urine stained panties. Why, God, why?! I guess I should have just been grateful that it was not blood. In fact, the other esthetician who worked there once had a client’s tampon string flop out while she was waxing her. Gross!
3. This guy wasn’t a client, but he called and asked me if I did sac waxes. As in SCROTUM SAC! When I told him I didn’t do those, he then asked if I would wax his ass. My reply? Click.
4. Back to bikini waxes. Now, this is a delicate subject because I respect a big girl’s right to keep her coochie nice and tidy, but it does make it hard to wax when the person is morbidly obese. I had a couple of BIG girls that I waxed and I would try and be as nice as possible about it. “Um, yes, would you mind pulling your FUPA** up just a bit so I can actually get to your pubic hair? Okay, maybe try raising your leg up. Or maybe try the butterfly position. Hmm, that’s not working, either. Maybe if you just squat down, it will spread everything open and I can just slide right in there with my wax.” I mean, come on! I’d have these girls in damn yoga positions. And if you’re that fat, who is looking at your cooch anyway? I’m sure they’re just getting tapped from behind, but what do I know?
I’m sooo glad I don’t do that for a living anymore. God bless the waxers of the world! You go through a living hell everyday just so people can feel a little less shitty about their disgusting bodies. Salute!
**Fat Upper Pussy Area
Ode To Beth Chapman
The Chapmans
I love the TV show, “Dog The Bounty Hunter.” [A&E Network, Wednesdays, 7:00p.m.-9:00p.m, Central Time] For those that have never seen the show, it’s about Duane “The Dawg” Chapman, a reformed criminal and born-again Christian, and his posse of bounty hunters. He owns “Da Kine Bail Bonds” in Hawaii, so the locations are really beautiful, although they are in the slums a lot. His posse currently includes his oldest son, Duane Lee; his other son, Leland; his daughter, Baby Lyssa, and his wife, Beth. For me, the real star of the show is Beth. She is, in one word, spectacular. Listed below are the top ten reasons I love her.
10. Her Stiletto Heels. It does not matter if they are running after criminals, Beth always has her 4 inch heels on. In one episode, they went to Colorado, in winter, and she STILL wore open-toed heels. She’s like, “Yeah, my feet are freezing, but snowboots are ugly.” Gotta love a woman with priorities!
9. Her Jewelry. Most of the time it’s gold, but no matter what, it’s always BIG. And she doesn’t stop at one or two pieces. Hell, no! Beth has got earrings (and she does have a plethora of ear piercings), mulitple bracelets, necklaces, and rings on EVERY finger. Love it.
8. Her Love of Bedazzled Cothing. Okay, I will admit, I bought a Bedazzler back in college. There was a band I liked (Cheese Pizza!) and I was going to bedazzle their name onto a t-shirt because I thought for some reason this would be cool. I did like, three dazzles, and didn’t have the patience to do the rest. So this leads me to believe Beth must buy things already bedazzled or she has a professional bedazzler on staff. And she bedazzles EVERYTHING from jeans to shirts to leather jackets.
7. Her 80’s Style Make-Up. Beth is only 41 yrs. old so she would have come of age during the mid to late 1980’s. In older episodes, she rocks out the blue eyeshadow, heavy eyeliner, and pink lipstick like no other. Lately, she’s been sporting a more natural look, which disappoints me to no end. I miss the Tammy Faye Bakerish Beth I came to know and love.
6. Her Frito Nails. One thing that hasn’t changed are her weapon-like fingernails. Bitch could claw an eye out with one of those talons! Actually, she could probably stab a motherfucker with one, too. And she paints them bright & funky which makes them even better.
5. Her Crayola-Yellow, Big Ass Hair. Again, you need to watch the older episodes to get the full effect of her hair. She used to wear it half pulled up in a semi-1950’s pompadour. Her hair closely matched The Dawg’s and it was a sight to see!
4. Her Bad Ass Temper. Bitch can go OFF! I would never mess with Beth. She almost ripped a guy’s face off who had pushed down Baby Lyssa during a chase. And she’s gotten in several men’s and women’s faces and screamed at them when they’ve been not-so-nice. It’s pretty awesome to watch. She is a reformed criminal, too, and I bet a hellion in her day. In fact, that’s how her and The Dawg first met. He was her bounty hunter! He captured her AND her heart. Awww!
3. Her Big Heart. Beth is incredibly compassionate to most of the criminals they arrest. Not all, but most. She sits in the back of the SUV as they drive them to jail and she talks about how they need to turn their life around and to look at this as an opportunity to change. She’ll get them a cigarette to smoke and light it for them since the criminal’s hands are cuffed. They will also stop off and get them something to eat and drink because a lot of the people they arrrest are drug addicts and haven’t eaten in awhile. She’s also gotten out tissues and wiped away their tears when they are crying. And she usually gives them a hug before they go into the jail.
2. Those Titties. Dear God, they are HUGE. What can I even say about them? I think they speak for themselves.
1. And the number one reason I love Beth…she gets to fuck the shit out of “The Dawg” every night. I bet that is some freak-nasty sex. You just KNOW those two get it on dirty porn-star style every chance they get. Oh, yeah!
Worst Double-Date. Ever.
I used to date a guy that I refer to as “B.” I wrote in an earlier post how there were six major red flags I chose to ignore, one of them being that he had fucked his secretary. Okay, so technically he hadn’t fucked her. They had gone out for drinks one night after work and she ended up coming back to his basement and he went “downtown” on her. Did I mention that she was married and about 15 years older than B? This little indiscretion happened about a month before I met B and he didn’t tell me about it right away, for obvious reasons. So this sets the stage for what happened when I came face to face with her. I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone about this incident because I do and say some very mean things and I may have caused the demise of his secretary’s marriage. You be the judge. Did I go too far?
I had just gotten off work when B gave me a call. He said that he and Sheila [the whore secretary] were at a bar down the street. They had just gotten done with an appointment [Sheila had to drive B around because he'd lost his license due to a DUI] and wanted to have a couple of drinks. Did I want to join them? Sheila’s husband, Jack, was on his way, too. B really wanted to put Jack’s mind at ease that there was nothing going on between them. Apparently, Jack had started to become suspicious of their relationship. Well, even though I was tired and had to be at work early the next day, I was sure as hell not going to leave those two alone together.
I walked into the bar and spotted B and Sheila throwing back shots like they were on Spring Break. I was sooo not impressed by her. I had pictured Sheila as this hot little cougar, but she looked more like a roughed-up stray cat. The term “rode hard and put away wet” came to mind. And she was already sloppy drunk which always makes a woman look so attractive. I actually thought less of B (if that was even possible at this point) for hooking up with her. So he introduced us (awkward!) and I ordered a beer. Then the three of us sat in uncomfortable silence. The tension running between us only got worse when Jack showed up.
First of all, I almost shit myself when he walked in. The bar we were at was a casual pool hall and most of the people in there were dressed in jeans and t-shirts. Jack showed up looking like freaking Grizzly Adams! He was wearing a HUGE 10 gallon cowboy hat [we live in Central IL, not Texas] and sporting one of those tacky suede jackets with fringe hanging down the sleeves. To top it off, he had a dark, John Holme’s porn ’stash and cowboy boots. There may have even been spurs on them. I was too afraid to look.
The four of us must have looked like the world’s oddest double-date. Things went downhill quickly. Sheila and B got more and more drunk, Sheila was blatantly flirting with B IN FRONT OF HER HUSBAND, and I was sitting there PISSED. So that’s when I started getting mean. Real mean. I basically called Sheila a pathetic, washed up, old drunk TO HER FACE! I have never before or since spoken like that to someone. And I didn’t even like B that much! Why was I acting that way?
B and Sheila got up to pick out a song on the juke box and I’m sure to get away from me. So I’m left sitting there with Mountain Man Jack. I started talking to him and asking him if he thought anything was going on between those two. I asked him if he was embarrassed that his wife was acting that way right in front of him. I knew he was already suspicious so it wasn’t hard to push him over the edge. And man, did that fucker SNAP! Without a word, he got up from the table and started walking in B and Sheila’s direction. I started to think to myself that perhaps I had gone a tad too far and now thanks to me, B was going to get his ass kicked. Jack started SCREAMING at both of them and everyone in the bar was looking at the commotion. Sheila was trying franticly to calm Jack down and I was freaking out. Actually, I was trying to pretend like I didn’t know any of them. After a couple of VERY long/tense minutes, Sheila and Jack went off into a corner to talk and B and I got the hell out of there.
In the car on the way home all B kept asking was, “I wonder what made Jack act like that?” Hmmm, I wonder. B and I broke up shortly after that. This all happened three years ago. I don’t know if Sheila and Jack are still married and I don’t know if Sheila still works for B. Here’s my karmic payback for being a bitch. This past fall, B had his face plastered on billboards all around town as an advertisement for his company. I had to drive past them all the time and relive all the crappy memories of our short-lived relationship.
Pedophile Round-Up
A couple of years ago, my newly single sister turned me onto an online dating website called singlesnet.com. The good the about it was anyone can join for free. The bad thing about it was ANYONE can join for free. Here’s a list of the future serial killers I met on singlesnet.
Screen Name: “The King’s Men”
Profile: This MARRIED man was looking for a second wife to go along with his current wife! He wrote, “I know it’s unusual in this country, but not in other parts of the world. My wife says I can surely ruin any woman for another man.” Um, WTF?!
The Aftermath: The best part of his profile was his picture. It showed his Korean, mail-order-looking wife, KNEELING beside him and they are both smiling away. When I emailed to tell him what a pig I thought he was, he wrote me back and hit on me! Yuck.
Screen Name: “Vinnie”
Profile: Vinnie sent me a message telling me he thought I was cute. This may have been flattering except for three things. First, Vinnie had a patch over one eye (I like to refer to him as “Patchy”) that he didn’t bother to try and explain. And I do think having a pirate’s patch requires even a small explanation. Second, he looked like he was about 60 years old and may have been a Hell’s Angel at one point in his life. Third, Patchy’s note to me was barely literate with so many typos I thought a freaking monkey had randomly punched the keyboard.
The Aftermath: Needless to say, I did not respond to his email, but I will always hold a warm place in my heart for Patchy.
Screen Name: “Don”
Profile: Don was listed as a therapist who worked with borderline personality disorder, among other things. I have no idea what that means. Don was a little odd, but for some reason [bordom/loneliness] I kept emailing him and eventually we exchanged numbers. I had that sick feeling in my stomach that I had just done something terribly wrong and my fears were realized the day he called. Aside from the fact that he sounded just like Buffalo Bill from “The Silence of the Lambs,” he immediately started the conversation off by telling me about a patient he’d treated earlier that day.[Sidenote-isn't that against some oath therapists take?]
The woman had been sexaully abused when she was younger and he had her do something called “cry therapy.” [Couldn't she just cry about it at home for free?] Then he told me about another one of his client’s who’d been plagued his entire life by dreams of his death. Turns out, he was supposed to be a twin and his twin died in the womb so he had to grow next to a dead fetus. Appetizing!
I sat there in silence as he was talking because what am I honestly going to add to this conversation? “Well, my day was rough, too. We almost didn’t make our sales plan!” No, retail and therapy just don’t mix, unless you use retail therapy to make yourself feel better, but that’s a different story. The final straw was when Don asked me if I’d ever heard of the Klinger Personality Test. I said no, I hadn’t heard of it, then I heard pages shuffling on the other end of the line. He asked if I minded aswering some questions. I’m assuming he was trying to analyze my personality. I hung up.
The Aftermath: I stopped using singlesnet after that.
I Heart Deaf Babies
I’ve noticed a creepy phenomenon that has steadily been gaining popularity in our culture for the last few years. I don’t know why or how it started, but it must be stopped immediatly. I’m referring to the ultra-annoying habit of new parents teaching their babies sign language. Why in the hell is this necessary?! Unless your kid is really deaf, I don’t see the point. And don’t tell me that it’s great for the kid because their motor skills develop before their verbal skills do. That may be true, but that’s not why parents do this. They just want to stroke their own egos and brag to other parents to make themselves feel superior. Since when do you need a gimmick to be a good parent?
What started me on this tangent is that today, for the first time, I actually witnessed two super irritating women signing to a baby while I’m standing in the coffee shop. I’m just trying to buy my Vanilla Caramel Avalanche before work and I hear “Aubrey, please. Aubrey, please.” They were saying this as they touched their hands to their mouth or something odd like that. And this kid wasn’t deaf. It was laughing and babbling away. And she had no fucking clue what her spastic mother and grandmother were trying to teach her. And frankly, both women looked like complete idiots doing this.
I remember when a good friend of mine had her son three years ago and was made to feel like shit by some uptight Donna Reed bitch because she wasn’t teaching him how to sign. I had never heard of such a thing before and was flabergasted that people would really do this to their kid. I wanted to research this a bit and I found a website called “Signing Time” that sells videos of how to do this. The video you can click on to watch is like nails on a chalkboard. I highly recommend you watch if you ever want to know exactly what NOT to do as a parent. It is truly hideous.
Warning: You’re About To Date A Loser!
Here’s a fun-filled list of SIX major red flags I missed when I dated a guy named “B” a few years ago. [Author's note- his name is not really the letter B. I am trying to be somewhat nice and protect his identity.] Okay, I didn’t really miss these warning signs. I chose to ignore them because he was cute and looked a bit like CNN’s Anderson Cooper, who I was hot for at the time.
#1. He could not drive because he had gotten a DUI, THEN got caught driving on his suspended license. Dumb-ass.
#2. He was residing in what he referred to as his sister’s “finished basement.” That implied that it was somewhat nice. No, it was not. It was a BASEMENT! With a bed. And it smelled. Like shit.
#3. “B” had a variety of pill bottles lying around that his therapist/father (!) prescribed to him. What the hell? Is that even legal or ethical? Was “B” the inspiration for the movie “Garden State?”
#4. Bi-Polar. Enough said.
#5. He owned his own business. Great! Fucked his secretary. Bad!
#6. Married his high school sweetheart. How sweet. Eight years later, they got divorced… but kept having sex…she got pregnant…they got re-married…oops, she miscarried…divorce #2!
Wow, he was a hot mess. Maybe I’m a bigger hot mess for dating him. In my defense, it only lasted two months. The sad thing is HE broke up with ME the day after I helped him move into his new apartment. Motherfucker.
Dane Cook- Douchie or Hottie?
I’ve been pondering something for awhile now and I just can’t keep it inside any longer. I’ve been losing sleep over this one little thought. Is Dane Cook really hot or is he just an incredible douchebag? It’s not as easy to answer as one might think. Dwell on it for awhile and listen to what your heart is telling you. Please post a comment and let me know what you think. The fate of the universe may rest on this.
My Crazy-Ass Neighbor
I am blessed to live in an apartment building that is very quiet. There are only four units in my building and most of my neighbors are older and I don’t really see them that much. Except for one. We’ll call her “Kathy.” Actually, I’m not sure what the crazy bitch’s name even is because she introduced herself to me on the day I was moving in. I was trying not to have a mild coronary as I had just climbed up and down the very steep steps (which I fondly refer to as Mt. Everest) in my building a hundred times and I was dripping with sweat. She yelled up at me and said her name and I figured I wouldn’t really see her that much so why bother to remember it. Wrong! Bitch knows my name by heart and is ususally screaming it out across our courtyard before I even make it to the door.
I do suspect “Kathy” has a slight drinking problem as the only times I see her are when she is sitting on her patio smoking and slurring her words as she’s talking to me. The following encounter with her accured a few months ago and scarred me for life. Bitch is crazy.
The Scene: I’m coming back from a quick trip to the grocery store. I had been alone in my apartment all day. I had been gone a total of 30 minutes.
Crazy Bitch ( in slurred speech): “Heyyy Brooke! How’s it going? Um, you live alone right?”
Me (weirded out that she is asking me this): “Yes, I live alone.”
Crazy B. (slurry): “Do you have someone staying with you?”
Me (again, freaked out by this line of questioning): “No, I don’t have any visitors.”
Crazy B.: “Oh, I just wondered because I swear I heard someone moving around up there. I thought it was you, but obviously you weren’t home. Oh, well.”
Me (did I point out that I live alone and now terrified I am going to be raped and murdered the second I walk in my door): “Yeah, that’s weird.” (Awkward silence between us). “So, um, have a good night.”
C. B. : “Yeah you, too.” (Starts talking incoherently as I walk in the building as fast as I can to get away from her.)
Needless to say, there was not a rapist/murderer waiting for me. Bitch was just drunk and crazy. I hate her. Come to think of it, I have not seen her outside smoking all winter. Either she quit or I am going to start smelling something rotting once it warms up this spring. Either way, I’m okay with it.
The Big “O”
I recently read in a magazine that many women are still faking their orgasms on a regular basis. What?! Why would you ever do that?!!! If you fake it, then the guy who’s bumping uglies with you is going to think that whatever he did is working and he will just keep repeating it, you’ll not cum, you’ll have to fake another big O and the viscious cycle will keep repeating itself. Why not be honest with the guy and let them know (in a nice way) that you are not going to cum and they can try something different next time. Or how about speaking up in the heat of the moment and actually telling them what they can do to get you there. How many women out there are cheating themselves out of the biggest, most awesome pleasure known to man because they are too chicken-shit to stand up for themselves. What’s the point of having sex if you’re not going to have the HUGE release at the end? I just don’t understand it.
And that being said, women need to get over giving head. It’s something that I believe is essential to the entire sexual experince, just the same as a man going “downtown” on you. Why do so many women think this is gross or have a problem with it? As a woman, wouldn’t you want to feel like you are keeping your man satisfied? Too many people start to look outside their marriage or relationship for someone to satisfy their sexual needs when stuff like this happens. So to all the men and women, let’s try this little experiment. Number one, be honest with each other in bed about what your likes and dislikes are. Number two, don’t ever fake anything because you are only cheating yourself and how would the guy feel if he knew you’d been faking your O face the whole time. Number 3, everyone go downtown, at least once in a while, so your partner can feel satisfied. Dr. Brooke’s sex therapy session is now complete for the day!
