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Saturday, 31 December 2011

shit i want to do in 2012

so it's that time again. out with the old, in with the new, and all that clich├ęd bullshit. now i told myself i wouldn't do this, but FUCK. i'm bored as hell, sitting home on new year's eve and the kids are being disturbingly well behaved. LAPTOP TIME!! 


so, i'm not going out and getting shitfaced tonight.. but that's ok. it's completely voluntary, unlike that time i was pregnant and spent new year's eve crying at home with my swollen feet elevated, feeling like a walrus. i am feeling blessedly unwalrus-like tonight, and actually looking forward to going to sleep and waking up feeling alive. 

all week, i mulled it over in my head. usually there's no question: it's new year's eve, go out, get shitfaced, start the new year with a KILLER hangover and looking like my makeup bag vomited on my face. this year, i'm pretty sure there's something wrong with my intestines, and after the 2 days of utter digestive HELL following my last bit of drinking, i decided to actually listen to my gut for once {teehee!!} and save the partying for all the young skanks ladies with the skinny jeans and flat tummies.

so instead of teetering around in a pair of sky-high heels and a short skirt, freezing my vagina right the fuck OFF, i'm compiling a list of shit i want to do this year. i don't like to call them resolutions because, well fuck, i just DON'T. it's just shit i want to do. either way, my vagina is happy, because it's not frozen to death.

so yeah, everyone says this, every fucking year. but i'm going to do it, goddammit! and not just because i want to fit into those sexy jeans that i LOVE but haven't been able to get past my thighs since '08. there's been a lot of deaths and heart attacks in my community over the past year or so, and like most other places in north america, obesity is an epidemic. 
i grew up a fat kid, i don't want that for MY kids. that shit is fucking hard. so i'm embracing this healthy lifestyle more and more, because i know that kids do what they see, and i doubt they'll be trying very hard to live an active lifestyle if all mommy does is eat chips, watch maury, and go completely fucking apeshit over naughty internet memes. 

this one might be tougher than the first. fuck, who am i kidding? it WILL be. and i say that not only because one of BF's pet names for me is "the clutter queen", but also because i have created several clutter-filled black holes in various locations around the house. of course, you wouldn't notice this shit if you walked in my front door any given day, but those black holes are there, living a life of their own and sucking in every loose sock and all-important doo-dad that strays too close to the opening of their swirling vortices. they can be found in the hall closet {which even I, the goddess of disorganization, is wary of approaching unarmed}, the cupboard above the fridge {the subject of many of BF's fuck-rants}, and in the boys' rooms {there is evil in those rooms that does not sleep!}. basically, the only thing that's keeping me off of hoarders is a couple of doors, a lack of animal and/or human feces, and the neat freak tendencies of poor, long-suffering BF. so yeah, i'm making a damn to-do list of de-cluttering and ATTACKING those trouble spots. 

ok, so i have no hilarious explanation for this one. i just need a new couch because mine is a smelly old piece of shit. 

so that's all i got, folks. well not really. a bunch of other crazy shit went through my mind while writing down these 3 things. but 3 is a good, solid, safe, DO-ABLE number.. and that's all i'm committing to. and in case you haven't heard it yet {pfft yeah fucking right!}, have a safe and happy new year's eve, and may 2012 bring you lots of good things.. like bacon, moose meat, happy families, and dirty neanderthal sex in the mud.

fuck off, 2011. kthnxbai XD

so, in honor of the new year, and also because i haven't been blogging that long, i've decided to give you a little list of just what the fuck i've been up to for the past year. 

while recovering from new years eve shenanigans, i decide to finally upload my pics from the holidays. i hadn't looked at them on the computer yet, just on the little screen on my camera, so i was fucking SHOCKED at what i found. and not in a good way, either. 
this is one of my holiday pics. UGH
now i was aware of the fact that i had put on a little weight after leaving school, but i was in denial as to how much. so when i saw my pics blown up on the unforgiving, uncaring dumb fuck of a computer screen, i was crushed and embarrassed. why, just a month before i had been in my shortest skirt, bumpin' and grindin' at the club, completely oblivious to the spare tires i was packing and wondering why i couldn't get any attention from some cuties i was making eyes at {BF and i had broken up for a few weeks, starting in november} poor fucks probably thought i was fixin' to roll them in breadcrumbs and deep fry 'em for a snack. or whatever. i don't know what men think when they are being relentlessly pursued by a fat girl who thinks she's the shit. FUCK.
anyway, after wallowing in depression and old sweats for a week or so, i finally snapped out of it and asked BF for help. {we had reconnected just before xmas}. he was amazingly supportive, and so began my intro to fitness and nutrition.

#3, not giving a fuck. i mean, who wants to PLAY with toys,
when you can just stand on the box?! am i right?!
and #1, just chillin', as always.
holy fuck, canada is cold!! nothing much exciting happened this month, other than #3's first birthday BASH! and by BASH! i mean me cooking like a motherfucker, covering everything in pink balloons, and stressing that she didn't have enough presents only to find that only 3 people bothered to show up and #3 just didn't give a fuck either way. sure, she played with her toys a little, but she was completely un-fucking-phased by all of the shit i had done. #2 had a meltdown because he wasn't the center of attention, and crashed out in a frustrated little pile in the middle of the kitchen. and #1 of course, was just as cool as a cucumber.

had no birthday BF pics, so here is my cat, winnie.
she had a bath in march and was not pleased.
BF's birthday mid-month. our plans for an awesome date night were spoiled by lack of a sitter. being the amazing gf that i am, i told him to go out and have some fun, and i'd stay home with the wee ones. his mom dropped him off a few hours later, totally obliterated and senseless. i had a little giggle and went back to bed. 
shit started thawing out, and along with most canadians, i breathed a sigh of relief that winter would not be here forever.

oh my sweet fuck, SWEATER WEATHER!! and by that i mean you could go out with just a sweater most days, instead of 17 pairs of pants, 14 shirts, and 85 scarves wrapped around your head. 
my favorite flower, the easter lily
after working out with my hip hop abs dvd and some strength training with weights, and eventually graduating to insanity, i had seen some awesome results, and the compliments were trickling in. even from BN, for fuck sakes! {if you can consider "ohh, you've slimmed down A LOT!! still got that big ass though" a compliment}
easter dinner was a success, with me making my first honey-glazed ham.

ME!!! just before the big dance
biggest fucking rez party EVER mid-month, what with the annual fishing thingie my community has. sexy, brown-skinned savages come from all over to fish, and possibly to pick up a fellow sexy, brown-skinned savage at the dance that's held. of course, i wasn't into that, i had MY savage already. but i did want to go shake my ass all over said savage, and turn some heads with my new figure. a great time was being had, until they played "party rock  anthem". then i fucking lost it!! i proceeded to go COMPLETELY nuts, drag poor BF onto the dance floor, and SHUFFLE like crazy. of course, this is never a good idea in 4 inch heels, unless you're a fucking pro. which i am not. the 7646273 drinks spilled on the dance floor didn't help much either. so i fell flat on my ass, giving a nice panty flash to anyone who was watching. i was lucky, and nothing was broken. {little did i know, that i would not always be so lucky!} and thankfully, a really obese guy fell just as i did, couldn't get up, and several people had to help him. it's a sin, but OMG thank you fat guy, wherever you are, for helping take some attention off of me!!

father's day food for my lovemuffin <3
little brother, L,  came to visit from another province. visits to mom became more frequent, because he was crashing there, and more bearable, simply because of his presence. we spent many long, warm almost-summer evenings on my back porch, sipping cold beer and talking about old times. 
cooked a pretty epic meal for father's day, and enjoyed the company of my mother {gasp! her first time in my new house!}, my aunt, L, and of course, my little family.

almost ready for the festivities!! 
both boys had their birthdays this month, 1 week apart, so we decided to have one big party for both of them. even though it rained, and we couldn't get the big inflatable jumping castle that the boys wanted, a good time was had by all. again, i cooked my ass off, and i must have done something right, seeing as how there were NO leftovers. poor BF.
entered a local "biggest loser" challenge to try and give my motivation a jumpstart. worked out like a motherfucker, ate a totally clean diet, and lost 15lbs in the first week. no bull.

#1 and #2, enjoying the summer weather
and their new skateboards
a friend of the family eloped in newfoundland. we were invited to a little reception in the new couple's honour early this month. when they showed a slideshow of pics from the actual ceremony, accompanied by a mushy love song, i was reduced to a blubbering fool. oh great, i thought, i am so fucked when my big brother gets married in september! 
there was a little dance, and more than a little drinks. i was having a perfect night until PARTY ROCK ANTHEM came on. yeah, you guessed it, i fucking lost it. and of course, i was wearing some badass heels. long story short, i broke my ankle.
final weigh-in the biggest loser was at the end of the month. i won by about a pound, thanks to my epic loss of the first week. 

#2, obviously ecstatic about the  tux he had to wear
and the crowd of people staring at him. lol
big brother got married this month. it was beautiful, perfect, like a fairy tale. my new SIL looked like a princess, and i of course was a blubbering, bawling fool. #2 was the ringbearer, and was simply amazing in his cuteness. after sending the kids home to their grampy after the reception, vast quantities of wine were consumed and much of my dancing was endured by BF. they played party rock anthem of course, but despite my highly inebriated state, i sat the fuck down. when my other brothers and friends teased me and BF about being the next to tie the knot, i firmly said, "NO WAY. that's not for us." little did i know!!

this gem is the type of thing that angered the IRL fuckers. *sighs*
nothing really exciting. wake up, go to work, come home, cook, clean, check fb. liked my first fb page that contained funny pics and jokes. but when i began sharing all of this amazing shit on my personal fb, people got all pissy. people are stupid, especially the IRL ones.
so i decided to create my own little page, a place to rant & rave, and post whatever the fuck i wanted. because you know, i couldn't just UNFRIEND these people.. i had to know what they were doing every day, HAD TO.

this was a sad month. i was laid off from my shitty job, and the anniversary of my dad's death was mid-month. i decided to take a stab at blogging after reading some amazing words by the geniuses behind Holdin' Holden, A Fort 4 Spitfyre, The Monster in Your Closet, Bitches Gotta Eat, and many more. my first blog post ever was dedicated to my dad.

my "charlie brown" christmas tree
stress levels were at an all-time high, with no cash flow and no way of even coming close to last year's awesomeness. somewhere between stressing about the holidays and simply trying to survive, BF asked me to marry him over our after-supper coffee. i said yes. this year has been one of falling into love all over again, compromise, and both of us changing for the better. i can't wait to start making plans!
needless to say, we survived christmas. the kids were happy and wonderfully greatful for all of their gifts, even though there was a significant lack of the latest games and fancy gadgets. in fact, the greatest hits were the doodle/activity books and markers from the dollar store i had grabbed as a last minute stocking stuffer. 

and that, my lovelies, was my year. not terribly exciting, i know, but it is what it is. my wish for the new year is for a bajillion more happy smiles on my children's faces, 100 bajillion more happy little moments as we watch them grow and find their place in this world, and health and happiness for every single one of my dear readers, followers, friends, and family. 

Wednesday, 21 December 2011

a learning adventure

as a woman who spends most of her time home with the young 'uns and the laptop, you would think that i don't have much to talk about. other than poop, puke, and snot, that is. but as it turns out, i do. and today, when i was granted escape from this prison house to grab some holiday groceries, i surprised myself by the sheer volume of non-kid-related shit that just flew from my mouth in between gulps of nearly orgasmic tim horton's coffee. 

by the time we got home, i had realized that this had been a learning adventure.. a field trip of sorts. so rather than making a long ass post on my fb page, and bugging the fuck out of the people that don't want to read and would rather click through funny pics, i decided to blog about it. although, the annoyance of non-readers is always fun. perhaps i'll save some for them. but never mind that. without further ado, here it is:

Things I Learned Today

1. I STILL GOT IT. so, obviously, i don't get out much. most of my time is spent at home, with the kids. i don't bother with makeup or hair. hell, i'm feeling rather foxy and ahead of the game if i manage to get a bra on. but today, i had a bit of free time while waiting for my friend to come pick me up. so i had a little stare down with my makeup bag, which resulted in me thinking "what the hell, i'm already wearing the good bra. might as well slap on the ole war paint as well." now let me tell you, i'm fucking lucky i stepped out of the house looking like a fairly normal person. i'm surprised i still remember what products to apply to what part of my face. but i got it right today. so right, in fact, that i got myself not one, but TWO double takes while strutting around with my grocery cart. fuck yeah. 

2. YOU REALLY CAN PICK UP AT THE GROCERY STORE. ok, now before you get all freaked out, everything is fine between the BF and i. we are still engaged, and i'm not looking for a guy. but remember the double takes? well yeah. they led up to some pretty meaningful eye contact {well, meaningful for THEM.. i just lol-ed in my head}. so i'm thinking, i have to stop my single girlfriends from checking out the bar scene. i gotta get them all skankified and drag them along to the grocery store. because if i can get some second looks and an invitation to flirtation at the check out armed with nothing but the good bra and the war paint, they might just get bent over in the produce section. and that would save me from a lot of late night phone and online conversations assuring them that a)there is nothing wrong with them, b)there are nice men out there who are single AND straight, and c)if they follow a decent regimen of personal hygiene, their hoo-hah will NOT grow cobwebs. 

3. I CAN BE KINDA FUNNY, GIVEN THE RIGHT CONDITIONS AND OPTIMAL HORMONE/CAFFEINE LEVELS. shocking, i know. and while i always knew that i had a sense of humor, i was not always aware that i can make coffee {and any other beverage} shoot from my friends' noses with just the right combination of words spoken in a slightly exaggerated eastern canada reserve accent. all of this WITHOUT the aide of a poop, puke, or snot-filled story of my lovely little angels. 

4. WHEN YOU LEAVE THE HOUSE UNDER CARE OF A MAN, DO NOT LEAVE THEM WITH ANY OPPORTUNITY TO ATTEMPT MOM-STYLE MULTI-TASKING. i should have just left the house, and told BF to relax and enjoy the kids. but no, i must be a sucker for punishment, because i asked him to give #3 a bath AND reminded him that there was a tim horton's coffee from my sister in the fridge from last night. sounds pretty harmless right? WRONG. this is what i gathered of the situation when i returned to a smoky, smelly house: our microwave recently bit the dust, so BF decided to heat the coffee in a pot. he then handed the laptop over to the boys to play games. then he forgot about the coffee {which was on FULL BLAST, because he knows of no other way to use the stove}, and put baby in the tub. the result? a smoking, splattering, smelly mess which ruined one of my only pots, 2 boys so zoned out on their game that they sat through all of this without realizing that the house was filling with smoke, and a frantic, crazed BF running through the house opening windows and waving towels at the smoke alarm with a dripping wet baby tucked under one arm like a football. i would have LOVED to have been a fly on the wall for that little shitfest!!

4. I SHOULD NOT BE LEFT UNATTENDED FOR LONG, LEST MY THOUGHTS START TO WANDER. yeah, so i've been told that i have a sick mind. and friends are always watching me if someone lets out a sentence with even a hint of potential innuendo. nevertheless, my friend left me unattended at the grocery store so that she could catch the bank and grab a few things at the dollar store. she also made the mistake of underestimating my shopping-ninja skills. i am a fucking FAST shopper. i get my groceries and i go, without any pointless wandering or fiddling around. so there i was, unattended and alone with my dirty mind, waiting for her to come get me. this will be better portrayed in the form of a "rage-ish almost-comic." so here goes. 

first i was like, "oh what a nice day.. blah blah herpin derpin fuckin herp!! "


and of course, my mind wanders. i think, "that's so sweet, look at them... probably still in love and all that jazz.."

and my mind wanders farther.. and i begin to giggle to myself and think, "they used to bang!!"





and that, my friends, concludes my interpretation of today's learning adventure. i hope you enjoyed it as much as i enjoyed my weekly outing!!

Saturday, 17 December 2011

my journey to partial health and almost-hotness

if you've read my posts, you'll know that BF is a bodybuilder and that, despite his hotness, we first got together when i was a big girl. big girl is a bit of an uderstatement, i guess. what would be more accurate is that i was obese. i had the weight of 2 back-to-back pregnancies, as well as a lifetime of unhealthy eating habits on my ass.

even though BF has almost always had a very healthy lifestyle, he never did rub it in my face or pressure me to go to the gym. the only way i knew to lose my baby weight was to go for walks with the kids every day. i knew nothing about lifting weights or nutrition. when i ask BF why he didn't try to make me lead a healthier lifestyle back then, he said he knew i would see the light eventually because i was smart, and also that he didn't want me feel pressured. AND he liked my big butt. 

now, i'm glad that BF always said he loved me just the way i was, and that he always made me feel beautiful. but you know, shit like that can go to a girl's head. and it did. in the year after i left college after almost having a nervous breakdown {another post for another day}, i slowly and surely gained weight. this is partially due to the fact that i barely ever went anywhere and partially due to the boredom that eventually replaced the depression which led to over-eating and snacking at night. but BF still had me convinced that i was beautiful and desirable. until, of course, reality bitch-slapped me upside the head when i allowed my picture to be taken over christmas last year. 

this is "fat me", thinking i was plump, but still pretty hot.. or at least hot enough to wear that clingy shirt. UGH!!

looking at that pic nearly sent me into another depression. well, actually it did. i spent the next couple of weeks moping around the house in pjs or sweats, feeling like a big, ugly blob. BF was an absolute saint during this time, assuring me over and over that i was still beautiful. he also knew my history of anorexia, and would constantly be at me to make sure i was eating. 

since it was the in the dead of winter, i had no idea how i was going to lose the weight. so i finally asked BF for help. But i lacked motivation. and his schedule was so hectic that the only time he had to train me to lift weights was at night, after the kids were in bed. i was close to giving up, when i found THIS:

this was just a start, and as corny as it was, it was loads of fun!!

and so began my love/hate relationship with shawn t. it worked perfectly for me. i would take the supplements as directed by BF, and just pop in the dvd when #3 went down for her nap. then, if i had the energy, we would do weights in the evening.  

these are the supps i took. whey + a good carb for breakfast, and another before and after workouts. the N.O. Fury and B.C.A.A.'s were also taken 30-60 minutes before, and immediately after my workouts.

but, eventually i got bored. the hip hop abs was no longer a challenge and i absolutely HATE lifting weights. that's when i saw the infomercial for the insanity workout. it was done by the same shawn t. i remembered from my HHA dvds, and it also had one of the same girls. and holy sweet FUCK, was she ever ripped!! i could barely recognize her from the slightly geeky girl in the HHA!! i had found what i wanted to do! so, after some research and reading people's independent reviews and watching transformation videos and other shit on the internet, i decided to try it. and even though some of the reviews had me a little nervous because they all said how fucking hard this shit was {one guy was convinced shawn t. was trying to kill him!!}, i was NOT prepared for that first day. oh, sure.. i had my supps, my new cross trainers, and my boobs were strapped down so they wouldn't hit me in the face and kill me. but i was NOT ready.

the first day of the insanity workout is a fit test, which you repeat every couple weeks to guage your fitness level and track your progress. let me tell you, this shit is IN-FUCKING-SANE!! the fucking "warm-up" nearly killed me, and i couldn't even finish the dvd. i stopped about halfway through after nearly fainting and puking on the floor. i was so discouraged and angry with myself, but i decided to take a pic and keep pushing so that some day i would have a wicked fucking transformation too.

this is me, immediately after day 1's fit test. still fat, hence the troll face.

 even though i was totally disappointed with myself after my failed fit test, i kept at it. during the first 2 weeks, i was almost always sore, tired, and cranky. on more than one occasion, BF said i was suffering from symptoms of "overtraining" {loss of appetite, depression, etc.}, and advised me not to try to do the whole 6 day week of insanity. so we broke it down to 2 days on, 1 day off. it worked loads better! i was still able to take care of the house and kids without being completely exhausted, and i was seeing some nice results.

here i am 1 month after starting insanity, slightly less fat but feeling LOADS healthier

not long after that last pic was taken, i went out dancing for the first time in months. you see, BF had taught me that the average person will drink a whole DAY's worth of calorie in 1 night of drinking... so i hadn't been going out at all. or even having a beer at a friend's house. so it was a HUGE treat. but even though it was fun, sometimes i wish i hadn't gone. everyone we saw kept telling me how i good i looked, and how much weight i had lost. that went straight to my fucking head, let me tell ya. and the next day, i had the mother of all hangovers. needless to say, i didn't work out that day. and after a few days, i still hadn't popped my insanity dvd into the dvd player. i just kept finding reasons not to. it was summer time, i was tired, i HAD to visit this person or that person or their dog or whatever. 

the weight began to creep back, i was having beer every weekend again, and i was feeling really shitty about it. that's when i heard about a "biggest-loser" type challenge being held locally. i immediately signed up and paid the registration fee. at the first meeting, we were all asked what we hoped to get from this. everyone said almost the same thing: get healthy, get fit, etc.. when my turn came, i shocked myself {and everyone in the room} by saying, "i want to win!" after a moment of awkward silence, i quickly regurgitated the healthy/fit spiel i had heard from everyone else. 

i got home from the meeting with a renewed motivation, and i got straight to work. i made a pot of lentil and barley soup, got my food journal ready, and planned my week. i must say, i did amazingly well that first week. i started every day with 30 minutes of yoga, wrote down everything i ate or drank, went from a 2 pots of coffee a day to barely 1, and did insanity {2 days on, 1 day off}. at the next weekly meeting, i was sure i had lost a couple of pounds. i wasn't prepared to deal with the shock of being told i had lost 15lbs. 15 fucking lbs.. in 1 week!! i was well on my way to winning!!

i stayed with my schedule during the next couple of weeks, and my weight was dropping steadily at every weekly weigh-in. nothing as dramatic as my first week, but a good pound or 2 a week. but, you know how it is.. shit happens.. and shit did happen.

when the challenge was around halfway finished, i was invited to a party celebrating the wedding of a good friend of the family. BF and i decided to go, and have a few drinks and fun. he assured me that i wouldn't gain weight as long as i stuck to my schedule after the hangover day, and that i deserved the treat. not that i really needed any convincing to go. 

when we got to the party, i was looking and feeling pretty good. but thanks to my nearly non-existent level of alcohol tolerance, i was OBLITERATED by midnight. i was having a blast, dancing with friends and family. that's when the shit happened. "party rock anthem" came on, and i just had to shuffle my ass off with my pals. in 4" heels. drunk as fuck. not my best decision!! i went over on my ankle at least 3 times before limping to BF and sulkily asking him to take me home. 

i never did get my ankle checked out, and i should have, because BF is  still convinced it was broken. the only good thing about that is that it's a pretty accurate predictor of when a storm is coming. 

i ended up taking a lot of time off of insanity. it's a very high-impact work out, and i didn't want to do any more damage to my ankle. in the last couple weeks of the loser challenge, a couple of the girls were catching up to me. i didn't lose my lead, but i came pretty damn close. the only thing that saved me were the weekly challenges. the winner of these challenges were awarded 2lbs. off of their weight loss. i'm ashamed to say that i wanted to win so bad, that i went and did those stupid challenges anyway, even though i knew i was making my recovery time longer and doing more damage. but i ended up winning in the end, with a total weight loss of 20.5lbs in 12 weeks. the woman in 2nd place had lost 19.2lbs. close fucking call!!

after that, i stayed off my ankle and followed BF's orders. after 8 weeks, i tried an insanity workout, just to see how it felt. my ankle was sore, so i decided to wait a couple more weeks. 

i was pleasantly surprised the next time i tried. as you may remember, the fit test was day 1. my first fit test after breaking {?} my ankle shocked me. my numbers weren't better than the last one i had done, but they weren't worse. i hadn't gotten weaker, at least. 

currently, i am on week 2 of insanity. my ankle doesn't bother me anymore, thankfully. i'm hoping to be able to stick with it this time, and enter the Canadian First Nation Get Fit Challenge. i'm aiming for the fitness division rather than the weight loss division, and i'm hoping i can at least give the other ladies a run for their money. here's a pic of me now, partially healthy and almost hot. i still have a ways to go, but i know in the end it will be worth it. wish me luck!!!  

Wednesday, 14 December 2011

for the men-folk

ok guys, let's just wait a second until all of the ladies have stepped out of the room, shall we? ok, good the coast is clear. 

now i know that as a man with a girlfriend, life can get hard. bitches be all up in your shit, trying to give you blowjobs and steak sandwiches while they're on the rag, because they want you to be fed and satisfied while their vagina is out of order. it's rough, i know. i mean, why in the hell would you want to put your dick in their mouth and have some purely selfish pleasure when you could just wait 5-7 days, right? and who the hell wants  big, tender slabs of red meat smothered with cheese between bread? again, you guys have it rough. but, take heart. i am here to help. with a few lessons from yours truly, you can be free of those pesky oral displays of affection as well as the dreaded sandwich. i'd like to add that these little tips and tricks work ALL MONTH LONG, if used correctly. you're welcome.

How to Avoid Blowjobs & Sandwiches

  1. i assume you're familiar with the fabled cramps and/or headaches, right? if not, take a moment to google it. go on, i have plenty of time. ok.. everything you think you know about this shit is a lie. cramps are a myth. menstruation is just like the commercials make it out to be. we really just want to dance in slow motion and hold kittens. so when your little slutmuffin is on the couch, doubled over in purely fictional pain, ignore it. leave her home alone with the 3 kids {this works best when one or more is sick}, and make sure the place looks like a pig sty. 
  2. if you're left to take care of the kids/house, don't lift a fucking finger. grab a different glass for everything you want to drink. if you're not thirsty, just grab a glass of something anyway. don't put shit in the sink, don't pick up your nasty ass gym socks, and let those kids run wild. nothin will keep a bitch off your dick like a bunch of dirty, hungry kids and a house that looks like the worst of Hoarders. added bonus: by the time she's done fixing shit back up, she'll be too tired to even think about that sandwich.
  3. don't ask her how her day was or how she's feeling. the last thing you want to do is to appear considerate. instead, find something dumb to bitch about that she can relate to in no way at all, and don't let her get a word in.
  4. don't hug, kiss, or otherwise show affection to her. shit like that gets your dick sucked, and we know you don't want that.
  5. plop that ass in front of the TV and zone the fuck out, man. come out of your spin once every 35 minutes to bitch about how goddamned tired you are. {this works best on days when you have done absolutely FUCK ALL to make you tired, and she knows it}

now, fellas.. those are just a handful of ways to ensure that you don't have to choke down another horrible sandwich and those plump, juicy lips stay away from your trouser snake. there are countless other ways to dodge blowjobs and sandwiches; i've simply provided you with a starting point. get creative. expand your horizons. most importantly, share what you've learned. there's still plenty of men out there being put through the hell of what i've just taught you to avoid. help them, for  the love of god, HELP THEM.

Tuesday, 13 December 2011

the after-supper coffee

so this is not the first time we've talked about marriage. the first time was during that blissful, sex-filled first year. you know how it is. we were so wrapped up in banging each other's brains out that we hadn't yet fully grasped what indescribable assholes we really were. 

that "engagement" {if that's what it even was}, was accompanied by a beautiful gold ring with not one, but 3 decent sized diamonds. that "engagement" was short-lived, however. human beings are usually at their dumbest when they spend a lot of time getting the brains banged out of them. so, eventually {and you know this if you've read 'the most fucked up love story in the world'} i realized that he was a degenerate asshole that i was slowly beginning to hate, and he realized that i was one coldhearted, vindictive bitch. our fights were bitter and cruel, and to this day i have no idea how we got through it. at the end of these brawls, i would invariably end shit by hurling my ring into his face, the woods, anywhere as long as it was away from my finger. eventually, he would return when i had cooled off, and we would have make-up sex or just hate-fuck the brains out of each other until we were too exhausted to even remember what the original fight was about. but inevitably, he got sick of having this symbol of his love thrown in his face or on the ground like a piece of trash. one night, he just picked it up and left. i never did see that ring again, but he did give me half of the money from selling it.

after the sale of the ring, we were both on eggshells around each other. neither of us thought it would last much longer. then i found out i was pregnant. it brought us together at what almost was the very end of "us". he transformed into this considerate, attentive, and gentle man that would not so much as allow me to lift a bag of bread. 

in the past 8 years, i've given him 3 children. i've watched him grow from an insensitive and selfish manchild into the amazingly selfless father and BF that he is today. it hasn't all been perfect. we still fight. i still bitch. he still drops his nasty gym socks on the floor. but it's different.

the fights aren't so bitter. the makeup sex is better, sweeter. we don't hate-fuck anymore. after being with him for 8 years, being through hell and back just for the sake of this little family, i learned to let go of the little annoyances. i learned to compromise. and i learned how not to get my panties in a fucking wad over something he's been doing all of his life, and probably will keep doing until he's old and gray. he's learned a lot too. he's learned that the world does not revolve around him, that walking away from shit does not make it better, and that it's ok to talk about feelings.

but even through all of this, after the first "engagement", i always assumed that marriage just didn't seem to fit into our future. even last year, at my brother's wedding, when one of the groomsmen jokingly pointed our way {we were a little tipsy, making out in the corner} and said, "you guys are next!" i just shrugged it off. "nahh, i'm never gettin married," is what i said. 

but now, it seems we've reached our Kind of Happy Place. we argue once a month {so i have ovaries, shoot me}, but the big intense screaming matches just don't happen any more. we kiss and cuddle a lot, and have been steadily renewing our rep as the most nauseating couple on the rez. 

despite all of these welcome changes and adjustments, when he asked me THE QUESTION last night, i was completely taken by surprise. it came, not accompanied by a sparkling ring, but with our customary after-supper coffee. there were no theatrics, no getting down on one fucking knee. just us, his hand over mine on the coffee cup. he looked momentarily crushed when i was unable to say anything for a whole minute, but his smile when i said yes could rival the sun for radiance. we hugged and kissed and almost cried... until one of the boys popped into the kitchen, saw us, and ran out screaming, "YOU GUYS ARE GROSS!!"

so here i am: 8 years older and wiser, saying yes to a proposal that comes not from a bad boy that i'm in lust with, but from the man that i've watched emerge from the wreckage of drugs and crime to become the best lover, companion, and father in the world. this proposal didn't come with a shiny ring {but you better believe i will be getting one of those eventually!!}, it came with one of the mundane parts of my life that i have come to love even more-the after-supper coffee.