Archive | June, 2012

Rule #30: Love the person that you are becoming

13 Jun

You’re still becoming her and you will be until the very day that you die.

I’m only saying her because my blog is pink, this could easily be directed to men.

There is a difference between loving the woman that you’ll become versus loving the person you are. If you love the person that you are, well good for you! You’ll only get bored eventually, so keep a goal of the ideal self that you want to be. It is having this goal of a person that you are trying to become that keeps you motivated to keep improving, it’s inspiration to make something better for yourself. Do you think Angelina Jolie thought “oh well now that I’ve got a hot body, I can probably cool it” Or “I’m flipping Lara Croft, ain’t nobody gunna top this” or “I just stole Brad Pitt from freaking Jennifer Aniston!” No, she went out and adopted kids with him and then made him put a ring on it. And I will roll over and die if that woman stops improving. She is constantly working on a new goal and making herself a better woman. Don’t you dare say that you’re not Angelina. That bitch is weird, but she keeps her shit together and I bet if you ask her, every day she gets happier. It’s that constant evolution that keeps you satisfied with yourself and that growth keeps you constantly intrigued and happy with who you are becoming. To use that cliche Emerson quote: “Life is a journey, not a destination.” It’s so hard to keep track of your long term goals if that is all you’re looking at. Be happy that you aced your college essay. But even more importantly, be happy that you cared enough about it to put in the effort. That effort and drive will make you happier than any stroke of luck that could happen to you. Except maybe backstage passes to Trey Songz which leads to marriage. That would be a very happy stroke of luck, but marriage to Trey Songz is a hefty goal of mine.

I once swore to myself that I would never do a job that I didn’t love. What I’m slowly realizing is that it’s not about the job at all. It’s about how you choose to spend your time. If you can make money while doing it, that’s awesome. No one lays on their death bed and asks for more money, they ask for time. It seems like something so simple. If it’s money that makes you happy, then go for the money (sometimes I just love counting it). If it’s love, then do everything in your power to make love happen. If it’s adventure, then get out and do something. You’re not going to accomplish much by sitting here and reading blog after blog. Go out and live your life, make things happen. Idealize the person that you want to be and get out there and work at it.

Rule #29: If you must fart, then either be respectful or sneaky about it.

13 Jun

I was a vegetarian for 4 years. The only meat I would touch was a beef stick, and not the kind you find in a convenience store either. Unless if you found it in a convenience store and he wasn’t a hick and you took him home immediately. So a sort of penis beef stick.

After that four years was up, for some reason my values and morals flew out the door and I began fucking up a storm and eating meat like the world was ending. Sometimes eating and fucking at the same time!

But the things that meat can do to a body that has forgotten how to digest meat. Apparently there is a special enzyme that your body evolves when you’re eating it on a regular basis, however, my body took a few months to remember how to break it down. Now it’s breaking it down like Chris Brown…I digress. During that strange transitional period, I could usually contain my gas outbreaks to the privacy of my own home and the confines of my own private bathroom…except when beer was involved. When do I pick up guys? Usually when beer is involved. Allow me to humiliate myself further by stating the following example of what a woman should not act like:

I was out to the bars one fateful night when suddenly a dashing young man offered to buy me drinks. Wanting to impress him by not drinking what I should have ordered, I went with a nice stout Guiness. This is a drink that should probably just stick to loggers, the Irish and maybe a few Germans. But alas, with my need to prove that I am different than all other girls, I asked for the manliest beer that I could think of: an Irish Stout. I may have gotten bonus points with the beer, but what happened next could not be overshadowed regardless of how much of my tatas were hanging out. There was this mini-stage that my friends and I were standing on. It elevated us to a good two feet above everyone else in the bar and I felt a big one building pressure within the depths of my bowels. I tried holding it back which just gets uncomfortable and I figured that if I let it out now, then it wouldn’t come back to haunt me later…in bed. BOMBS AWAY! Little did I know that the able bodied man buying me drinks was on that lower level buying round #2 and had turned around just in time to get the brunt force of my atomic fart directly in his face, showering his nostrils and open mouth with my toxic exorcism. Ladies and gentlemen, it went a little something like this:

http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PFKH3sNe9bQ/TKYiYKtXkuI/AAAAAAAAAAg/5wZxmuIdVhM/s1600/fart_southpark1.gif

The poor guy was defenseless against my air raid…his mouth was open and everything! He hops up on stage to hand me my second glass of butt poison and asks me the dreaded question: Did you just fart? Now, I hate lying. Especially to men that I might take home; it’s not a good way to start off the one night stand. So I did what I always do when I feel awkward: Lay on the sarcasm. I could have blamed the dog, or one of the other drunks; but instead I say “Oh yeah…that was tooooooooooooooooootally me.” This way, I still tell the truth, however the truth is highly misconstrued because of the sarcasm laced within my words. My cover might have been blown when my best friend bursted out in laughter…but he still took me home.

As it turns out, boobs can cover up flatulence!

Rule #28: If all of your friends tell you to leave him, do it.

13 Jun

If just one of your friends is hell bent on breaking the two of you up, she either wants you all to herself or she’s fucking him. Be wary of these backstabbing father fuckers.

We’ve all been there. Been in that type of blissful love where you are completely unaware that the boy can shit anything other than 24 karats. If the guy is shitting gold, chances are he’s not eating right. Either way, something is off. Granted, every once and a while Mr. Perfect comes along. If that’s the case, then bravo Cinderella and I wish you many years of encore.

Maybe your boyfriend is a scrub that doesn’t have a car and needs you to drive him everywhere and buy him things. If this is the case, your friends should be telling you to dump his ass. If they aren’t then they’re in as much denial as you are.

The worst type of relationship is that one where you have to lie to yourself about how wonderful it is. You’re constantly telling yourself that things might be bad now, but at least they’re getting better. WRONG! There is no way that you can change someone. By the time an adult hits the full grown age of 22 or somewhere around there, do you really expect them to change into the ideal person that you want them to be? Heck no. Would a dragonfly ever devolve into it’s nymph stage? Heck No. Once you’re a real person, you’ve pretty much become the person that you are going to be for all eternity and there is really no one who would change that. Once someone is stuck in their scrubbish ways and he has mastered the ways of manipulation to get favors, things and in your pants. If you’re dating that scrub, there is little chance that all of a sudden he’ll decide to turn his life around and become a doctor. When you’re still riding this bliss of this fantasy life, start listening to your friends.

I once knew a girl who somehow got emotionally entangled with this white piece of baby daddy trailer trash. I’ve seen some wonderfully constructed trailers in my day, but he was not living in one of them. The one time she invited me to his “house” to indulge in some underage drinking, his roommates were literally playing darts with knives and some chick gave me a cigarette burn as a baby was crying in the next room. I don’t know about you, but this is not exactly my ideal habitat. But somehow, my friend was in love with the slum of the slums. For three years this poor girl ignored my warnings of his crumminess (antonym: yuminess) and waited until the baby mama pushed her down a flight of stairs. This girl did not even suspect her trip. And even after this disaster, she begged him to take her back. I just don’t understand why beautiful women subject themselves to so much unnecessary trauma.

You’re friends are there for a reason. They’re meant to be there through thick and thin. If they weren’t, then they wouldn’t be your friends and they would let you date the trash accumulating in the gutters of America. But no, your friends want the best for you because there is that mutual respect that you also want the best for them. When you don’t listen to your friends advice, especially when they are honestly telling you off with your best interest at heart, you’re basically ignoring every premise of a decent relationship. Girls never want to see other girls unhappy because we are typically so empathetic that we don’t want to see ourselves in the shitty relationship as well. No girl should have so suffer.

Us ladies are all looking out for the best things to happen for the ladies because honestly, we deserve better than the slums of the earth.

Rule #27: Ugly Girls Masterbate.

12 Jun

Because all girls masturbate.

Since that first N*SYNC video that gave you the tingles to seeing that beautiful underage man take his shirt off and like his lips we’ve all been itching to rub our junk on the nearest piece of furniture. Don’t even try hiding that you did it. Usher’s 8701 was playing in your bedroom alone when I first felt those tingles. What? Usher, I remind you of a girl that you once knew? Fine, I’ll discover my clit. I even remember this lonely little girl that would sit on her foot in her second grade classroom and jump around on it. I had no idea why the teacher was constantly getting on her case about this heavy rubbing business and thought it was a far graver mistake to pick your nose with a pencil eraser as Kevin next to me would do all day.

But I’ll hand out my dosage of honesty here. I had no idea that I was flicking the bean until my Best Friend was wasted one night and ranting and raving about how playing finger tennis is her best form of exercise. She had never had such a wonderful time alone as when she’s flapping those butterfly wings. It’s like fun abstinence!! Sometimes letting the dam loose by yourself gets the flowers watered much better than any man could. Sometimes thinking of innuendos for folding the linens is much more fun than taking down the mini tent. Once one girl admits her crime of rebuilding London’s bridge, then the door is opened to so many other conversations, such as this one I found on Urban Dictionary:

http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=masturbation%20for%20girls

That girl was strange and maybe should keep her water fetishes between her thighs, but whatever gets the job done! Heck, I might even try that tonight…no. Now. Brb.

Didn’t really work. One of the many reasons that us girls have to man up and talk about how we jelly our beans. The vagina is a very complex machine with gears and doohickies flopping around every which way. There is no way that a man is going to uncover the mysteries of this machine if the machine owner is not willing to give it a test drive. Every single perchina is different, which is exactly why every woman must frost her cupcake. It’s so sad that we don’t talk about it! How in the world are we going to figure out the tricks of the trade if my girlfriends won’t even talk to me about how they fluff their pussy? How are we going to screw the driver? How in the world will that cat get let out???

So ladies, have some confidence. Open that discussion. Make things happen for yourself and things will be so much better for yourself by yourself.

Rule #26: The bro code is bogus.

5 Jun

Perhaps I am inadvertently discrediting my own current blog, but I had an experience this weekend to show how bogus the bro code is when bros can’t even properly decode a situation where a woman is involved. These rules in the letters to my eggs, however, are already bogus because my eggs will never read them. I recently had an experience where the bro code was even more highly violated by enforcing the bro code; proving it’s inefficiency.

There was once this coworker of mine who I got along with nicely. I would even go as far as to say that he was my first friend at my new job, but I was not interested. He was nice, but frankly, overwhelming and obnoxious; therefore lonely. Since you can’t drink when you’re bartending and bar cherries, pickles and olives just cannot sustain a human diet, I have been known to drink a virgin Bloody Mary for dinner. Something about the zest fills me up like a Latino penis. Anyways, I would like to make it as obvious as possible that my drink is a virgin because virgin jokes are quite becoming. Lots of jokes run around about this: Vivian is eating the virgin again. Vivian has never sucked a virgin so quickly. Vivian is as virgin as her drink isn’t.

Anyways, somehow this translated into lonely bartender asking about how my virgin Bloody Mary’s dating life was. I answer with the most obvious answer: Obviously not great; still a virgin. Somehow he thought that that meant I was still a virgin. I don’t even understand how men think that that is sexy. There is nothing attractive to me about an inexperienced bed-mate who probably knows nothing more than to thrust rapidly or lay there like a dead starfish. Anyways, after his shift when he got wasted, he brought up the idea of my drink being a virgin again. I didn’t think it was possible for there to be more jokes about me/drink being a virgin. But this wasn’t a joke. He offered to change my joke of a virginity status by asking me out on a date. I say nay nay because he was obnoxious and now wasted.

Meanwhile, I was feeding shots to this hottie tottie slut in a red dress. If you wear a red dress to the bars on a Tuesday, you’re begging to be fucked. There was the fact of the dress, and that she was begging to be fucked. Almost immediately after lonely bartender had asked me out, she went and started grinding on him. She was sexy and he was wasted, so no judgement was made on my part. It was a busy night so I further occupied myself with the less creepy customers who actually tipped. What happened next I only caught glimpses of from my peripheral.

Apparently, slutty red dress had gone up to one of the sober bouncers and purposely knocked a drink out of his hands. They both looked at it and she says “I’ll get it.” She literally did the bend and snap. The cup came up cupping her C-cups with her ass on his weenie. You go girl! The bouncer said that he would have totally gotten her number, except that lonely bartender was already taking her home to fuck her.

BRO CODE VIOLATION! By the bouncer telling me this story, he may have allowed for one night of fucking, but he definitely ruined all chances of lonely bartender to hit it with me on the regular.

Why the bro code is a failure is because too many bros know about the bro code and insist on bragging about it. With girls, it is more of an unspoken code. We must be respectful of each other and our prerogatives. Slutty red dress was trying to get her pussy wet and I wasn’t about to stop her.

Rule #25: The two things you need at every wedding are tissues and a bottle.

3 Jun

You never know when tears will flow, so the best method is to try and hide your real emotions behind some whiskey breath. Now, if you are single as I will be eternally, weddings are a thorough reminder of how I should just go buy some cats, floral curtains and knit until I die at a ripe old crazy age. Now please, hold back on the booze bottle until after the ceremony. Drunkenness at ceremonies usually ends up with reckless pouting and perhaps a scream to end the wedding because you’re still in love with the groom. I wasn’t even in love with the groom.

The main point of every wedding, for the single ladies anyways, is to hookup with the groomsmen. Everyone has been reminded about how beautiful true love is, especially when you’re single. It’s like being hungry and seeing a flame broiled burger. You just want your cut of the action, so step up and follow this fool proof plan into faking love for one night.

Step 1: Look awesome. Wear a big hat. Don’t cry excessively at the ceremony because that’s where men do their initial scoping of all the single ladies, you need to look good and stand out to beat all of those other bitches to the sexiest single man standing on the alter. So use your tissues to blot your eyes before they leak and mess up your make up. Smile at the bride, remember after all, it’s her day and you just have a side mission. Besides, when she walks past you, that’s when all the fellas will be looking your way so you want to distract those horny men from the bride’s flawlessness with your pearly whites. Let them look.

Step 2: An open keg sometimes is not enough, so bring your own bottle. Keep it in your car. Location is key. Some people do the flask thing, but that is so last century. A flask means that you are drinking solo. But if the booze is in your car, then at least you can invite others to your car to drink with as a big group of single hornballs. It’s mating season and booze makes your feathers look brighter. Specifically, you should invite the groomsman that you’ve been eying because every groomsman is going to do everything in his power to get regally trashed. He will use you for your booze and then for your boobies. You get some alone time with zee sexy one and get to get your buzz on; it’s a win-win. If you really want some bonus points, make sure to get a manly liquor like Maker’s Mark or Jim Beam. Men seem to get impressed with manly liquor. He can even share some with his mom if you want more bonus points! Mommy points cannot be replaced or replicated by any swagger or form of courtship.

Step 3: Catch the bouquet, it’s a great conversation piece.

If all goes well, make sure that you booked a cheap hotel room.