Christmas is one of my favorite times of the year- not for presents, but for all the time I get to spend with family. Living close to everyone definitely has its advantages. Game nights with fun snacks, real food that I didn’t have to cook, leftovers that I get to take home (notice a trend there?), little cousins who remind me that I do not want children, etc. However, there is always one dreaded topic of conversation that inevitably pops up during family time. You know what it is. It’s the love life chat.  Read the rest of this entry »


Do you ever want something for a long time, but when you get it, it’s a major letdown? That’s how my experience with Sweater Vest was the other night.

The same night I posted about his infamous dick pics, he hit me up- he had just gotten home from a Christmas party and was a bit tipsy. A tipsy Sweater Vest is a horny Sweater Vest, and he was talking all sorts of dirty. Surprisingly, he asks for my address- I’ve never let him come over. I’ve always gone to his place. I give it to him, being a bit in the mood myself and wanting to see how far this will go.

He showed up with a can of whipped cream (yes, really), and said he only wanted to do oral. Fine, whatever. I’ve been thinking about how great it would be to finally get him in bed that I don’t care. He stripped down, and I got a full view of his chiseled body- six pack abs, firm ass, broad shoulders.. he’s the perfect specimen. He pushed me back on the bed, went down below the belt and…. Read the rest of this entry »

Let me set the scene for you. It’s 9:00 am. I’m running behind- as usual. As I’m zipping up my dress, my phone pings. It’s a Snapchat from Army Man. We’ve been in touch recently about New Year’s Eve plans, so I’m assuming its one of his weird droopy, side-mouthed shots with something along the lines of morning.

I click that little red square, and I do get something along the lines of morning– a fully erect penis pops into view with a caption good morning. he wanted to say hi. Read the rest of this entry »

I’m going to go ahead and say what EVERYBODY ELSE IN THE ENTIRE WORLD is saying right now- I can’t believe it’s already December. It honestly feels like September to me. I turn on Christmas music and then go, “da fuck am I listening to?!” halfway through.

Now that that’s out of the way, let’s get on with an update, shall we? I didn’t realize it had been so long since my last post until last week. I was eating lunch with a girlfriend of mine (sushi, if you must know), and she was asking for updates.

“Are you still with that one guy?”

Uhh, which one? Married Man? Single Dad? Medic?

She was referring to the cute, deep-voiced ex-medic who had gorgeous tattoos and jet black hair. Nope, not with him anymore. She then proceeded to say, “you know, you should blog about your love life. Every time we get together, you have some crazy story to tell me. It’s so ridiculous.”

Hence, this post… Read the rest of this entry »

I’m in a dilemma at the moment.

After a period of fuck buddies and awkward online dating, I finally met a man who gave me butterflies. He is attractive, funny, honest, and a true gentleman. He offers to help me with my projects, constantly tells me I’m beautiful, and isn’t afraid to act silly with me. He loves my dog, my quirky house, and my tendency to ruin a romantic moment with a joke. On top of all that, the sex is amazing. He’s pretty perfect. There’s just one problem…

He’s married. Read the rest of this entry »

It’s really frustrating being attracted to a universally attractive man. You know, that type of man who was blessed with great bone structure, a beautiful smile, and a rock hard body- one that pretty much every breathing female finds attractive.

Sweater Vest is that man for me. I try really hard to train my brain to associate him with boring things like sweater vests, awkward family dinners, and long lectures about the process of converting oxygen to carbon dioxide. My brain has pretty much gotten with the program, but my body hasn’t. Anytime he’s in the vicinity, it’s screaming about how much it wants to violate him in the best possible ways. Read the rest of this entry »

I was originally going to write about something completely different, but I got distracted and started watching coming out videos on YouTube. What I saw was heartbreaking, and it pushed me further to say what I’ve had on my heart for a while.

I’m going to start out by saying I’m not writing this to start an argument. If you are looking for a place to say insensitive/hateful/demeaning/derogatory things, please do it elsewhere. There are plenty of other outlets for your thoughts. I also want to say that I am by no means perfect, nor do I think that I am above anyone or anything of that nature. I fail at life daily, and though I try to be the best person I can, I fall short all the time. Read the rest of this entry »

The Roomie and I were over at Hipster D’s house for girls’ night last weekend. Our friend Orthodox is turning the big 2-7 on Tuesday, and she is stressing out about it. She’s worried that men will freak when they hear how old she is, which is absurd seeing as the men she’s after are in their late twenties. Apparently, being Orthodox makes it really hard to find a man anyway (who knew?!). I think she should get a dog. It’d solve all her problems.

I love being a dog mom. I am guaranteed unconditional love. My baby is always excited to see me, loves spending time with me, and gives the best puppy kisses. All you normal dog people out there are reading this and going, “yeah, it’s the same way with me and my dog.” Hey now- anyone can own a dog. Not everyone is cut out to be a dog mom. Add in singledom and you have an entirely new breed. Not gonna lie, we can get pretty weird. Aren’t sure if you meet the level of weird I’m on? Check out the 10 warning signs below and do some self-diagnosing. Read the rest of this entry »

The dating world has been a bit of a swing-and-miss endeavor lately. Army Man tried hard to crawl back in my life and then didn’t try very hard to stay there. I did a short stint of online dating “just to see what’s out there” which was a huge waste of time (in case you weren’t already aware of this, there are lots of weird people in the world). Then I joined Tinder as a joke which turned out to be awesome but for all the wrong reasons. Most of my time was spent taking screenshots of guys with really awkward profile photos and sending them to my BFF to prove there are people worse at dating than him. (My two favorites are currently a shirtless chubby man sticking his butt out while biting his finger in a sexual way and a Russell Brand lookalike in a cast mounted on a stuffed unicorn.) It’s ridiculous.

With that being strike three, I’m now back at square one. Single dog mom with an awesome job and zero prospects. My father is typically the one to remind me of that.

How’s your love life? Still nonexistent? *cough* I want grandkids *cough*

The oral surgeon’s office didn’t help things by telling me I was practically decrepit when I went to get my wisdom teeth out. Who knew 25 was the new 40?!

All of this to say, society thinks I need to get my shit together.

The roomie and I have had quite a few conversations about this. Good men are hard to find. Sure, we could be dating some scrub, but that would only end in one way: living in a trailer park with a crack baby and an alcoholic husband who’s idea of dressing nice is putting on something other than his greasy, holey wife beater. Thanks but no thanks.

We are both over the bar scene. It’s fun every once in a while, but I’m not on the prowl every weekend. Been there, done that- over it. That was the whore-ish, college me. Classy, mid-twenties me is more of a ‘let’s grab a drink on a rooftop and laugh at all the drunks tripping over their heels’ type of girl. Or is it woman now? When does that switch happen? Is woman synonymous with old lady? Surely not.

Anyway, here are the final questions we asked that couldn’t be answered. Where the hell do we meet professional, respectable gentlemen who aren’t out scouting for a hookup? Where are the solid ‘normal’ men hiding- the ones not more into fashion than me or only into fishing and hunting or too obsessed with the gym to do anything else with their lives?

Yes, ripped bodies with lick-able washboard abs and a drool-worthy ass are admirable. I’d be lying if I said they weren’t. However, a man who is constantly snapping selfies at the gym, professing his love of protein shakes, and saying his interests are “fitness- that’s it” is not turning me on. When I see a gym rat, I see a judgmental individual who is self absorbed and has expectations that I can’t live up to. I have dated the gym rat. It isn’t fun. Instead of lots of compliments, you get, “Yeah, you look good, but you could use some more toning on your ___ (fill in the blank).” Buh.

As for the outdoors enthusiasts, I think they’re a bit too hardcore for me. Living in Fayettechill, there is an abundance of the guy who says, “I love everything outside- hiking, kayaking, fishing, hunting, noodling, frog gigging, rolling in mud, eating grubs and purifying my water by dropping some bleach in it! Woo!” Uh, no thanks. I like camping, trout fishing, kayaking and hiking, but I’m not roughing it and breathing it in like it’s about to go extinct. I have friends who are married to men like that, and the allure of an adventure with your honey dies pretty quickly. Then, your outdoor enthusiast goes without you, and during hunting season, your lady bits dry up and get cobwebs while he’s out proving his manliness by killing things.

There is also an overwhelming number of men in my area who are certified hipsters. Yes, the bars they frequent are gorgeous establishments with delicious, quirky drinks served in fancy glassware, and the walls are covered in eclectic but swanky decor. Yes, that perfectly coiffed hair and waxed mustache (read in a posh English accent) are impressive. Yes, those perfectly rolled jeans and Dapper Dan style is very appealing, BUT there is way too much fashion going on for me. If I dated a man like the hipster, I would always worry about him showing me up on a date by being better dressed than me. My closet is not that pulled together. That is a shallow reason, so go on and judge me. I don’t care. It’s the truth.

I would like to think that the hipster and I would get along great. We could jam out to awesome music, drink micro-brewed ales, eat at food trucks and dives, and do weird but really cool things together (like race toy cars down a hill that we bought at a flea market- loser buys the coffee). He would be way more into it than I would though.

So, what I need in my life is a hisper- a whisper of a hipster. A man who enjoys those things, but doesn’t live and breathe those things. A man who has a pretty sweet haircut but doesn’t have to have it perfect every day (I would also prefer he didn’t have the facial hair). A man who knows how to dress well, but will rock a t-shirt and jeans with me when we go to the farmer’s market on Saturdays. A man who cares about his appearance but isn’t a gym rat, and who likes the outdoors but also will curl up and TV marathon it with me on a rainy Sunday.

I’m sure this man exists, but he really really likes the game Hide and Seek. He’s very good at it. I don’t know where to find him. On the off-chance I do see a man like this, I will promise you right here and now to run at him and scream, “You’re my hisper! Marry me, adopt my fur baby as your own and let’s have a real baby together!” Just kidding. I’ll more than likely go into stealth mode for fear that this perfect specimen of a man will see me staring and drooling. I’m hopeless.


It’s a Friday night and I’m in a weird mood.

My group of friends has a weekly thing called fire pit Fridays. We all get together and hang out, drink, chill- whatever.  Tonight was supposed to be one of those nights.

Muscles was the one who invited all of us. Or as I refer to her tonight- Sketchy Bitch Numero Uno.

The plan: go to her place, eat some food, drink some drink, and chill around the fire pit.

No time was established. The afternoon goes by, no one knows what’s up. We ask- no answer. Finally, we find out she’s working until 8 or so, so we’re gonna kick it when she gets home.

In the meantime, I head over to BBA’s casa to watch Girls with her and her new roomie, Simba (for the birthmark on her forehead). Girls is awesome, as always. Lots of awkward sex, weirdness and real situations we all have encountered in the past month. I’m telling you now.. Girls is the epitome of life in our twenties.

Anyway, we get hungry, go eat awesome pizza and salad at a local joint, head home and still hear nothing. Nothing. It is now 8:30. Muscles is supposed to be off work and home by now. The food option has come and gone. Now, we’re just hoping for alchy and fire (a great mixture btw).

9:00 comes and goes. 9:30. Simba gets a text from Muscles’ bestie that shows a brand new piercing. They went and got piercings. Sketchy bitches. Sketchy bitches.

No one has said anything to BBA or me. What is this?! The three of us are hanging out, watching Girls, while sketchy bitches get off work, go get piercings, then probably grab fro yo and rub each other’s nipples. At least, that’d make me feel better than just not bothering to text us. Sketchy bitches.

This is not the first time this has happened. BBA and the bestie (her cousin) made plans. Muscles hits up bestie with something else. Bestie ditches BBA for Muscles. Sketchy bitches.

Flakester wants to go to a music festival. Muscles and bestie say they’ll let her know if they get tickets. They get tickets, go to the festival without telling Flakester, and she finds out about it on Facebook. Sketchy bitches.

Don’t get me wrong. I love those girls. Sometimes, though, it gets to a point where you look and see that they are so far up each other’s asses it makes you not want to have any part of it. I mean, at the least, if you’re going to be sketchy, don’t initiate plans.

I’m not usually confrontational, but I’m in one of those moods where I wanna call them on their shit. I wanna tell them to shove that fire starter up their ass and light it, then take a picture of it and send it to me. I want them to know it’s not right to treat other people that way. Let us know you decided to go get piercings at the last minute. Let us know you’ll be late. Sketchy bitches.

I’m not mad, I’m irritated. I’m having a good time watching Girls, but it’s a  bit dampened by the fact that I was supposed to be at Muscles’ 2.5 hours ago. There is still no indication that we’re heading over there anytime soon, and if we do get that text, I might just say fuck that shit and go back to watching Girls. Because watching awkward sex scenes is way more entertaining than dealing with sketchy bitches.

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