My Jokes and Funny Stories

RANT: Bathroom Time = Private Time!

2006-10-24T19:33:00.000-07:00

Dear Family,

First off, let me say that I love you dearly. If I possibly could, I would spend every moment for the rest of my life with you. As we live in the Los Angeles area, it is necessary that I work full-time outside the home. Between shuttling Son to school and other activities, working in a busy office environment, and handling most of the household needs, I figure I get about 20 or so minutes a day of time to myself, with no one else present (10 of those minutes is the time it takes me to get to work after dropping off Son at school plus the time it takes for me to leave work and pick up Son). The other ten or so minutes of time I have to myself, I spend in the bathroom.

Husband, I know we are very close, we don't hide anything from each other, and we are comfortable being naked around each other. Hell, I LOVE being naked with you. You fart around me, I fart around you, we have nothing to hide. However, when I am in the bathroom, I want to be left alone. I don't want you peeking in the bathroom that is adjacent to the living room when I am in it. I don't want you throwing the door wide open when I am in there. I don't want you looking at me when I am sitting on the pot, doing my business. I don't want you to watch me wipe. I especially don't want a hug or to kiss you and I REALLY don't wish to be fondled or touched in any way while I am taking a crap. I know you don't have any sense of personal boundaries when it comes to your wife, but I really don't feel my sexiest when I am pushing waste out of my asshole into the toilet. It's worse when I have gastrointestinal distress, because you will come in and laugh at the noises my bowels are making or critique the odor I have produced. Please, I beg you, leave me alone and when I come out I will be your perfect wife again.

Son, I can't believe you're ten years old already. It seemed like just yesterday you were crying when you didn't get your way. Oh wait, that *was* yesterday. I mean, it seemed like just yesterday that you were in diapers and I was teaching you how to use the big boy toilet. I let you in the bathroom with me while I was doing my business because I wanted you to see that I was okay using the potty, I wasn't going to fall in or be eaten by some potty monster. I explained that boys have a weewee and girls don't. We went through that a very long time ago. You've since learned to aim (sorta) and wipe yourself (mostly) without me. So, honey, when I'm in the bathroom, please let me be. You want to ask permission for something? Go ask your dad. You need my help with your homework? Ask dad! He can't help you because it's English, science, math or anything other than history? Then go on to the next assignment and I'll help you when I'm done. You're hungry? Well then, I'll be sure to fix you some of the food I've got stashed next to the toilet paper and the crossword puzzle book we keep on the back of the tank. Please, I beg you, leave me alone and when I come out I'll make dinner and help you with your homework.

Thank you, family, for giving me ten people-free minutes to go to the bathroom. When I'm in there, I'm usually trying to figure out what I'm going to make for dinner, what things we need from the store, when and where is Son's next baseball game, about what tragedy is going on at work, whether or not that blouse I want to wear tomorrow is clean/ironed, etc. So please, give me my space, and I'll give you yours.

Look Me Up

2006-05-09T20:02:00.000-07:00

me [fr. Du, Eng, Fr, Calif] (1961) --adj 1: a little bit blonde 2: a little bit green-eyed 3: a little bit Jewish --n 4: a gardener who knows a clarkia from a columbine 5: a hiker who knows a kingfisher from a kinglet 6: a bachelorette who can cook when she puts her mind to it 7: a fulltime professional finding ways to make sparetime for art 8: an editor who knows the rules well enough to break them

you [origin unknown] (n.d.) --v 1: like my definitions 2: have some definitions of your own, and maybe a synonym or two 3: would like to find a reference you can stick with

Shrill Frigid Nag Seeks Unemployable Shemp w/Breath Like Hot Garbage

2006-04-19T10:24:00.000-07:00

My ideal man takes me to the park to amuse ourselves by pretending to have Tourette Syndrome when kids or parents are within earshot. "SPERM BURPING WHORE!!!" He shaves a marriage proposal into his backhair. He promises to always "love me", even if he has no teeth and has to gum me. Will he gum me when I'm old and my hoo hoo smells like 1st & Beale at low tide?
He won't mind watching Temptation Island while sorting the packages we got from carjacking that UPS truck. He won't mind that doc sez my rash will clear up "real soon".

His Name is Not George

2006-04-11T22:04:00.000-07:00

Hello, how are you,
Thanks for clicking and reading –
This post’s for a guy
Who is really worth meeting:

He’s a great catch and a good friend of mine
Who works long hours and simply doesn’t have time
To find a sweet girl, so for him I endeavor
If his description intrigues, you truly know never…

“I’m posting your info,” I tell him, “on Craigslist.”
As expected, his voice is raised to fast protest –

'Craigslist is fun, and I don’t intend to be mean…
But I really don’t think cyber-dating’s my scene.'

“A good point,” I acknowledge, “but please keep in mind:
Even though virtual, who knows what you’ll find?”

And then,

A nod! His permission is granted!
Girls, listen up, this guy is fantastic.

The City is proud to call him one of her own,
(it’s so rare these days to find a native at home).
He knows the way from Broadway to Lake
Wouldn’t a tour make a pretty fun date?

Or perhaps you’d prefer to kick back with a beer,
Conversation comes easy to this engineer.
Yes, a degree from Berkeley but don’t think he’s a nerd,
He’s up to go out and down to party. (Yo, word).

In fact, his intelligence is such to warrant conceit,
Yet he remains modest, surely no tiny feat.
And speaking of feet, his are quite big…
(Take this statement as you wish ~ you dig?)

Though he claims to be shy, an observer of others,
You will be comfortable having him as a friend and/or lover.
His touch is gentle, he only bites on request,
And the fantasies he inspires may be your best yet.

Enough of this poem: no justice does it do,
If a match is in sight, let him know who are you.
Send him an email to set up a date –
Girls grab him now, before it’s too late!

It is best if you are also in your early 20s, college-educated, intelligent, friendly, passionate, talented in a particular arena, funny (or can appreciate humor and love to laugh), fairly sane, well-traveled or at least interested in the world beyond your social sphere, and looking for a fun date but not a serious relationship.

Note: Please don’t judge him based on the poem (honestly, my poetry skills are lacking to an embarrassing degree). For the record, I'm a girl and I vouch for him completely:

He is such a good person ~ has a kind soul, knows just how to hug a girl, and sometimes, as you go about your day, you will catch yourself smiling. You will catch yourself smiling, almost on the verge of giggling, of laughing aloud. And you will, at this moment, realize that you are thinking about him. So please write ~ you probably deserve a great guy.

Enemies Wanted

2006-04-09T13:35:00.000-07:00

Life is getting boring, so I am looking for a few good enemies to stir things up. Let's talk behind each others back, blackmail each other, call up each other's bosses and destroy our lives. Are you up for it? You must have experience. I need at least 2 references from people that will not step into the same room as you. If your parents have disowned you thats a plus.

You stole my stereo and the key to my heart, er, CAR

2006-04-07T10:59:00.000-07:00

Ah, yes, I don't remember seeing you, in fact I never did...but I wonder if we've made parting glances on the streets. I bet you were wearing black and a sexy ball cap, and my oh my you have an awfully BIG screwdriver. I know because you used it to break your way in through the lock.

You were so kind to leave a few bits and pieces of items broken off on the floor of the passenger side. You did indeed get to my stereo, and I know you'll absolutely love the way it plays. Let it always remind you of my undying devotion to the CD that is inside. You'll note that the Indigo Girls were playing the last time I was in the car, and that the CD was from a very kind friend who helped me through some rough times I faced before. I hope that it means as much to you as it did to me.

And then, you had to be so kind to leave the door ajar, running my battery down, emotionally and physically. To top it off, you certainly left an impression, messing with my brain (of the car), stealing the Electronic chip that would have allowed me to drive to the Police Station, after the tow man came and talked about what you had done to so many others...I should have heeded his warnings.

Well, my new found passion, I'm sure I'll see you in my dreams, well, rather, on the bus, where I'll be riding because I can't move my car. I thought true love was expensive, but for the $100 you get for that stereo, I know that you'll see someday, there's much more profit in the otherside of the business. You too could make $100 for using that screwdriver in other ways, perhaps repairing the damage you've done to so many others.

I hope to see you someday, and I hope you'll see me, and you'll know exactly who I am...I am everyone in the world...I am everyone and you are alone and cannot be with everyone because you are against them.

God bless you, my newfound passion. and please, God bless me.

Dinner whore?

2006-04-04T08:55:00.000-07:00

I'm a woman. Sometimes I go on dates. Often, dates involve dinner. I almost always offer to throw in some cash. Usually the guy who asked me out won't accept my money. If I don't want to go out with him again, should I mail him my half of the check in an envelope? Am I a 'dinner whore' if i don't? I don't think so.

It's hard to find that chemistry we all seek. It's hard for men, and it's hard for us women. The first date is to see if we feel anything for each other. If I don't feel we clicked, I don't want to waste my time or your time by going on a second date. Maybe that's the case with the girls you call "dinner whores." They just don't really want another date with you. I doubt they'd endure all that awful, awkward getting-to-know-you chitchat just for a free dinner. A bad date (even over lobster) is as boring as a timeshare seminar, and timeshare seminars at least offer you a free week in Vegas at the end of the presentation. Christ, people.

Aside from a few sociopaths, women aren't predatory creatures scheming of ways to seperate you from your cash. Shit, if we can afford to live in San Francisco, we can afford our own dinners. Like you, we're just fumbling along, hoping we find someone cute and fun who won't hurt us too much.

Sexy Scrabble Player

2006-03-30T19:39:00.000-08:00

Adapt-O-Bot

2006-03-28T11:31:00.000-08:00

adapt-o-bot at your services.
running low on cash? take the shelves out of
your big closet and call it a room..
ask $1600 for it and claim that if I pay less,
you wouldn't be able to live there.

no problem.
adapt-o-bot,
culturally adaptive,
fully modular unit.

can accomodate all life styles..
you're a lush, loser who hasn't gotten over childhood issues?
no problem, i'll smack you around- subtlely, you won't even notice it.

you're a 'professional' who wants to perpetuate the myth that
you're some kind of computer whiz because you are making over 6 digits
and your parents get confused when you describe your job duties?
no problem, i roll up in a landrover and we talk about post-dotcom crash
options like finding spirituality and finally doing what you really
wanted to do.

you're a new age, loving, healthy vegan (who lives in the city)?
no problem. adapt-o-bot takes you to Rainbow to shop for organic mushrooms
and always remembers to bring the cloth tote bags. i don't eat animals,
can discuss the bardo thodols and understand your wavering redefinition
of 'it's all good'.. even when your cool hippie friends are being condescending
snobs because their trustafarian, dreadlocked heads can't accept anything
outside of their elite 'beautiful' culture.

are you grease? indie rock forever, or the real thing?
i'm on the floor helping you fix a car, we chat over beers about
how shit was built better back in the day.

art scool unveiled? are you the real deal.. no bullshit?
willing to wash dishes to afford studio space? watch me
slide into your life like good sex, smooth entry- all your
friends think i'm cool already.. i know who you're 'supposed to'
know, and simultaneoulsy don't give a fuck. i got money for art
supplies. eventually, i become your favorite new art project.
i understand the need to use chemicals to dull your inhibitions,
just don't tweak.
i get what you do (or don't) if you want it to be that way.
your fantasy remains yours.

art school for the corporate sector?
graphic design for banner ads on the net? no prob. i get it,
you need to survive somehow or maybe that art shit was too tough?
fuck starving! you could meet someone and just settle down, right?
the job's benefits are good, right? i'm there to make you feel like
you still have a soul. adapt-o-bot keeps your house painted fucked
up colors, we never watch TV and discuss new media theory from a
grassroots perspective, we also talk about terrible hollywood movies'
special effects and 3d rendering technology when people from your job
are over for some obligatory social reason.

sports fan? like to get that testosterone on?
adapt-o-bot outjocks you. while you're in the room watching
football on the 'tele', i got espn, espn2 and 2 other stations, pictute
in picture projected on the backside of the house as my frat buddies
tend to the bbq and keg. no prob, you're still the star. i'm low key
but if you talk to me i've memorized all the stats.

are you not from the states? just arrived here from europe and think
americans suck? i can bond with you about the fact that you can't get
a proper cup of tea in this town and that americans are stupid becuase
they are self-centered, arrogant, bubble-gum chewing overweight fucks.
i'm fluent in 4 languages. i can even impress your euro friends with
my knowledge of underground electronic music and cross my legs like a
lady when i sit. i never wear white socks.
or perhaps you are latin? i got that soul too. don't worry. i can
work 3 women on the dancefloor and just ride, cruisin holmes. we eat lunch
at 3pm on sundays and it lasts until the sun goes down. life is good.

u 'down with the scene'? 'no, man, like you don't know,
i've been down forever and shit.' it goes waaay back. 'yo- old school 4 reals'.
but that doesn't matter, the new going out is staying in. house music
sucks. minimal techno takes the mtv award 2002. it's all about AI, plants
and beats.. realtime graphics so we don't have to do anything anymore and let
the real voices be heard. or is it about linn drums distorted as fuck
because i'm coming off raw-like?
hmmm.. adapt-o-bot's got range of motion.
this sector is shared. as your modular roommate you get to use my studio as long as you keep the weed coming and know when to fuck off because i'm wrecking shit on my gear. or i can switch into sophisticated 20th century new composer mode. forget stockhausen and his graphical scores, i've got realtime 3d spatially mapped compositional structures made in LISP that stockhausen would never admit were cool because he's chilling in sirius.

bopping hip hop? i got break records from 87. adapt-o-bot is always
cool. not one to interfere with your steez. in fact, i enhance it.
we cruise in the navigator with the dvd players locked on some raw,
Japanese DMC championship, whatever- just in the background.. we're
rocking our own cannbibal ox remix over the 20's. one to never play
wack music at home and to constantly elevate thoughts, attitudes,
postivity.

plane jane. word. laura ashley is cool with me. i'm adapt-o-bot,
it would be fine if you left your stuffed animals in the living room.
i want them to feel at home.

Numbers

2006-03-26T11:32:00.000-08:00

72 inches
140 lbs
36 bust
30 waist
35 waist
420 not
69 friendly
9-5 job
6 1/2 shoe
1 ex
1 dog
1 cat
2 sisters
2 brothers
4 tickets
1 house
0 disease
20/20 vision
2 cars
1 bike
2 computers

Sorry to the Young Man at the Train Station

2006-03-24T09:02:00.000-08:00

i accidently looked up (i really didn't mean to) and you said hi and started to introduce yourself. now i'm very friendly in the right situations, but i've noticed a trend in my life where i get picked up on by very young, and often very persistent men (such as yourself ) all too often, now i know, i shouldn't really complain-- it IS flattering and I'm told i look young for my old, old, old age -- did i mention i'm old? i was actually one of those old young people, but now that i'm getting older it seems i'm getting younger, strange- i know-- but when i realized it was happening again the words came out before i thought about it . .

"i'm reading"

What a crime to humanity it is (i know, i know!!) when these are the first words to come out of my mouth in response to a self introduction that occurs on a bench surrounded by strangers (some of whom might or might not be a) a bit unusual or b) making odd noises..) Please keep in mind that i am the only girl on a bench with three other guys sitting nearby in an isolated area of the train station ( i didn't plan it exactly and although i'm not USUALLY so uptight but they do air those announcements about being aware of your surroundings at the station, right?)

You then proceeded to be even nicer, stood up to leave and said that you had really just wanted to tell me that i was beautiful. Wow. Then I couldn't say anything because it was even stranger then and well.. what could I say?! I know, many gracious things that never occur at the right moment. I was very flattered. Why didn't I just say, thanks, you too. Or how about, hi, my name is____ would you like to woo me here amidst all the strangers? Maybe we can sneak behind one of these handy ivory looking pillars and discuss your honorable intentions towards me now that we've met at the train station?

Well... this is the part where i always get in trouble. some guy goes out of his way for me and i remorselessly squash the attempt because i'm busy and the phrase some of you '"act like a got a sign my ass that says harrass me" does apply sometimes, so maybe you can see where i'm coming from. It's kind of a hard twist, but you have to understand how hard it is to be a girl out on public transport alone sometimes.. truth be told, you were probably the nicest guy who sat on the bench, but I don't know that and "a stranger is a stranger" and what is more, "niceness" comes in so many different forms, some of them more clingy than others (which is to be avoided at train stations in case you didn't know).

I would give you an A for attempt (everyone get's one if they try), another A for your smile, but a F for venue and a D for pronounciation. You really have to work on that, i just want to tell you to be nice, because i kinda thought you might still be trashed from Saturday night from the way you spoke (which was partially what startled me into my silence in the first place) but anyway..

Now i would normally grade myself on my own response here, but i never took the "how to get hit on correctly" class and as it appears, i have really bad manners in that area (which is admitedly a terrible, terrible thing) and i can't stand getting bad grades, so I will simply appologize and wonder how i can just say thank you next time or maybe smile bigger, but screw it don't I have a certain right not to get hit on in certain situations (can you just smile at me or something?).. or go ahead .. say something to me.. but don't ask for anything like.. my name or my phone number.. and for crying out loud, don't hit on me then ask for change..

. . .okay.. so here's my long story short: if you're the right guy and it's the right moment, maybe we have something to work with and i love to meet both men AND women - but as my mother tells it, she once quipped to a man trying to pick her up on the street, "Don't try to get fresh with me" and laughed. What a crack up she is sometimes-- but this is the same lady who I once saw grapple with a mugger for her purse and send the dumbass running down the street. So you see I am not the girl you're looking for. . . not only am I leary, but my 27+ honorary 10 or so extra years of experience imbibe me with a certain amount of weariness to boot. You seemed sweet (and maybe not drunk?) as you walked away whoever you were, next time you may have better luck if you try to be a little more aware of the kind of place you try to meet us girls in before you lay it all out there ok? It's not all our responsibilty to take care of your feelings, it is our responsibilty to take care of ourselves.

For my part, next time i'll try to be nicer about it and try not to worry if it's not exactly the perfect moment so much. But it might help us solve this ongoing (says hi / doesn't say hi / acts stuck-up or whatever) issue if more guys can remember, if you can't catch the girl in the right situation, maybe you shouldn't try to catch her. If a girl seems open to it, go for it! Otherwise, respect a girls' space (mental and physical) and just be glad her kind are free to roam the earth.

peace!

The contraction of 'you are' is 'you're,' not 'your.'

2006-03-22T20:36:00.000-08:00

You're not trying to "peak" interest, you're trying to "pique" interest.

You're probably not looking for a "discrete" relationship, you philandering buttwipe, because you don't know what "discrete" means. You're looking for a "discreet" relationship.

One female human is a "woman," not a "women."

People who make these errors should not be having sex.

You Ruined My Poo

2006-03-20T20:41:00.000-08:00

Yes that's right you ruined my poo. I don't know if it's always you, but after today I imagine it is. Everyday I go to the toilet after lunch to take a nice enjoyable crap. I walk in and if no one is in there I enter a stall pull out a couple butt gaskets, wipe down the seat, drop my pants and plant my ass comfortably on the seat.

I relax and let the poo fall out. I of course then do the courteous thing and flush making sure I or no one else has to stew in my stink. Just when I feel some more poo about to fall you come in. I let it fall and promptly perform the courtesy flush. Why? Because I don't want to sit and smell it so down it goes. You enter the stall. Not just any stall you have to pick the one next to mine! Why!? There are 2 others further away and you choose the one next to me! I'm bothered, but not quite finished yet so I stay there . I now try to speed up the process. Without making great grunting noises I move things along. You on the other hand don't care what noises come out of you. What did you eat!? Geze! it sounds like you're going to blow the bowl away right out from under your ass!. Grunting and breathing deeply through your whistling nose. It hits the water and you don't flush!! Please Please!!! Learn to flush!! The smell of course reaches my stall and you don't seem to care. You like your own brand I guess, but why subject everyone else to it? Flush damn it!

Quickly I'm trying to finish when I hear your phone ring. To my great surprise you bloody answer it. You answer the phone while you're sitting on the crapper, geze what the heck is wrong with you? So there I am finishing up and listening to you talk on the phone. Can the other person not hear the resonance of the bathroom? Do they not hear the occasional fart rip into the hollow of the bowl? What could you possibly be thinking? What could they be possibly be thinking? Not just any call it sounds like a freaking business call, not your wife, not your girlfriend, not your boyfriend not your mom, but a freaking business call.."yes Phil, I'll send you an e-mail regarding the figures on the Marconi account".

It is at that moment I decide. I finish and before you can hang up I have made the decision. I want the caller to know what kind of freak you are. I decide to just do it.

I flush!! The glorious sound reverberates throughout the room. Before I know it I do it again.

there you bastard! Maybe that will learn you.

Returned With Only One Word

2006-03-19T18:25:00.000-08:00

I emailed you to tell you how great you are. How you open up
new worlds to me.

I emailed you to tell you how I admire your grace, how you make me feel
beautiful.

I emailed you to tell you that you had my love, that I couldn't
think of any better place to put it.

And you returned my love with one word:
"unsubscribe"

A Singing Refrigerator

2006-03-18T19:36:00.000-08:00

So I move into my new home last week, ...forget it.

Net-net: I am selling my singing refrigerator. Yes, it sings. It sings when it wants to, and whatever it wants to. Though, with some patience and proper training, you could have it singing Sinatra, Beatles, or use it as a gag on your friends when they come over ...and have it belt out something disgusting, like Dave Matthews or Celine Dion. Why does the caged frige sing? It's lonely, tired, and perhaps bored. More so, it's probably a bad blower motor, or the seminifreous tubloidial freon distributor regulator thingee-bob.

It gets along with other appliances, and is housetrained. In fact, it sings in a variety of languages including cat talk and dog speak. My cat has a lovely 3 AM call-and-answer duet session with it at times.... reminds me of Louis Armstrong & Ella doin' Porgy & Bess. Though I can't guarantee the appliance will perform any Gershwin upon ownership change.

It's model is circa-82... so hey, all you retro-slaves in the Mission who are currently re-living '78... you'll be good to go in a couple years when the 80's comes in, in your Bugle Boys serving Malibu jello shooters out of your refrigerator which has since learned Billy Ocean (the B sides).

Help.......Oh god...Somone....Help

2006-03-17T19:09:00.000-08:00

....please...can't...stop......must look on..blogger....
can't stop...need help....oh GOD PLEASE ...no...no no don't...make me post...another blog entry...
can't possibly...answer anymore...comments....fingers getting...weak......ass is too sore....must get up and...pee..bladder getting full..very painful
who will get me food?...can't possibly leave computer!!
....need to get away from...blog...can't help myself...any..longer...
pleaaasee...

HUGE lot of romance novels-trade for cloth diapers/cloth diaper stuff

2006-03-16T07:28:00.000-08:00

I have about 150-160 romance novels for sale. Most are Harlequin, Silhoutte, some Avon, etc. I will trade for cloth diapers or diapering stuff.

Get the joke? Romance novels -> Sex -> Baby -> Responsibility.

To the person who left their computer in the trash on 7th Ave

2006-03-15T08:14:00.000-08:00

To the person who left their old computer out on the street for the trash men on 7th Ave:

You left the hard driver in there, and as a dutiful techie and recycler I just scavanged it, hooked it up, and..

well.. dude - for you clearly _are_ a guy - you really need to get out more. ;-)

I respect your privacy, and am about to reformat it, but I have to say.. you like some sick-ass websites. ;-)

Thanks for the entertainment!

WIPE YOUR HARD DRIVE BEFORE YOU THROW IT OUT! ;-)

Coolest Girl Ever Seeks Same...

2006-03-13T07:56:00.000-08:00

"definitely the coolest girl in the bay area, if not the entire western hemisphere!"
---new york times

"humble as pie. really arrogant pie."
---the Montclarion

"shockingly brilliant, yet disturbingly smart-assed"
---utne reader

"i desire her friendship more than i desire bejeweled platinum jewelry"
---p. diddy

"the best writer since francine pascal and ann m. martin, hands down."
---"highlights for children"

"sexier than robert plant and britney spears spears wrestling beneath a glorious waterfall of olive oil and glitter"
---justin timberlake

"more fun to listen to than most music, creed and dave matthews excluded"
---the guy from creed and a guy who likes dave matthews

"friendly as a kitten on ecstasy, minus the fur and glowstick"
---CatFancy

"i would come out of my secret hiding place just for a chance at her friendship."
---VP dick cheney

"i'm just glad she lets me borrow her clothes"
---chloe sevigny

"unable to go eight minutes without a pop culture reference that clearly indicates her age of 23. a delightful young lady who desires some lady friends with whom i can hang out; zoom around the east and west bay; go to dive-y bars that have good music and strong drinks; watch things (such as people, movies, family ties, clouds, boiling water, growing grass, progressing politics, unfortunate fashion trends, the litter and scum layer that floats on lake merritt, etc.); talk about cool books that we have read/are reading/pretend to have read ("yeah, i LIKED foucault's first one, but it was his other one that really grabbed me"..."yeah i agree, but it's 'ulysses' that i come back to again and again"), likewise with music and interesting facts and general life observations...please be able to spell, vote, name at least four world leaders, and tell when i am being sarcastic and when i am being sarcastic."

i look forward to making your aquaintance, new best friends whom i have yet to meet. we shall have so much fun. don't delay--i can hear the banging at the door, can sense my inbox swelling. act within a reasonable amount of time and receive a handy carrying case AND a limited edition american flag musical plate that plays "kashmir."

!!!!!!!

Unconditional Lust

2006-03-12T08:19:00.000-08:00

Act now and receive 50% off.

For the first time only, you can save on a limited supply of unconditional lust. This normally costs as much as three dinners, two movies, one day window shopping, three hours hiking, one stomachache from laughing too much, four days of kissing, 368 witty responses, one night dancing, and non-stop attention. Act now and save 50% with this coupon. In order to redeem this coupon, you must comment the following information back to qualify*.

-Do you like drama (why or why not)?
-How many women do you date at one time?
-How old do you act?
-How old do you look?
-How old are you (optional)?
-Do you own a U-Haul or have an account with them?
-Do you have any extra toasters at your house? If so, how many?
-What are your opinions on the lesbian community's term for "good looking"?
-Do you smoke, drink, do drugs?
-What do you think of Mullets?
-What was the last book, magazine, and news paper you read?
-If your answer to reading was "what?", What was the last TV show you watched?
-What is your favorite music genre?
-What were the last 5 MP3's you downloaded (If you don't know what MP3's are, think C3PO on Star Wars)?
-Do you play a musical instrument?
-If you could be a famous actor or actress, who would you want to be?
-Do you play sports
-If so, which one(s)?
-Do you play billiards, eight-ball, nine-ball, straight, or snooker?
-What was the longest time period between dating (another words, longest time single)?
-Do you work out?
-How many hair colors have you dyed your hair?
-Do you skate, snowboard, surf, wakeboard - dude?
-What vegetable do you dislike the most?
-How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?

*You must be a lesbian over the physical age of 25 to qualify. Men are automatically disqualified. Bi and transgender female are encouraged to apply, but qualifications are at the discretion of management.

Wanna Sweat With Me?!

2006-03-11T09:02:00.000-08:00

This is the skinny (no pun intended):

I'm a cute, playful, intelligent, sensual, honest, optimistic, successful, single chick ... with a FAT ASS!

I'm 5'9 and weigh about 200 (well-proportioned) pounds. That means, instead of a boyfriend or lover, what I REALLY need is a great workout buddy, right?! (Then again ... if I'm lucky ... I might get a package deal!)

I have my own toys (see below for one example), have a hot tub that can soothe our overworked, sore muscles, and would love to make a new friend who's willing to MOTIVATE ME in to ACTION! Your job (should you choose to take it) is to get me moving in the right fitness direction! In return, you get to use my weight set, have a few laughs, and start your day out with a pretty cool chick!

If you live nearby and would like to save a few bucks on your gym membership, hows about swinging on over to my house on the way to work to sweat with me?! I prefer to work out / walk / bike in the EARLY morning (before 6 AM).

What say you? Wanna' sweat with me?!

-----

Ten simple fitness facts (as they apply to me):

1) I was a long-distance runner until 1991.
2) I trashed my knees running on concrete.
3) I started working way too hard (and WAY too late)!
4) I got complacent (I'm a runner! I'll ALWAYS be skinny!).
5) I got older and my metabolism crash-landed.
6) I've gained approximately 6 pounds per year for 11 years.
7) Simple math yields a sum of 66 pounds gained!
8) My ideal weight is 130.
9) I've got a long way to go.
10) I have GREAT potential to be built like a BRICK SHITHOUSE! =O)

-----

Hurry! Before it's too late! Help create a masterpiece!

Toilet Bowl Brush - $4

2006-03-10T00:40:00.000-08:00

Nice used toilet bowl brush with white scallop shaped plastic holder for sale.

Brush handle is crooked to reach the hard places.
The brushhead is circular, blue bristles at the tip and the rest are white. The tip bristles are sorta flattened out from use, but still highly effective in performing the job for which they were designed. It also has a soft grip that is shaped to fit your hand..this is leading edge bowlbrush technology.

This is a really nice brush, and the scallop-shaped holder just completes the upscale look of your toilet accessories (even if it is just plastic)

Well, what more can i say about this fine item? The only reason i am considering selling it is because i got a different style one for free that the neighbors left when they moved. For a while i had both in my bathroom and now i have decided that due to my need for cash i will part with this beloved brush and scallop holder.

Haggish, Embittered Angry Chick Seeks Arrogant, Self Centered Man

2006-03-08T09:25:00.000-08:00

I mean, why gloss over our issues, why not *wallow* in them?

Given that all the good men are taken and those left over are those who should be left over, and somehow I, in all my cuteness and perfection, forgot that marriage and family actually keeps a woman from wanting to commit suicide or dying young in an overheated assisted living facility, okay, well maybe that's wrong, but actually keeps a woman...hell, never mind. Anyway given that I actually forgot about the marriage and children part until a year ago, then woke up to the fact that all the good men were taken...but still wanted companionship and one baby, maybe...

...I still find myself half-assedly cruising the personals in the newspaper looking for ONE MAN who's looking for something more than a blow job in high heels. Hope springs psychotic.

I am hot, brown hair and eyes, look a little like whatshername in "Funny Face" on a good day, smart, bored, funny. Never married, no children. No issues beyond mystification and impatience, and slight emotional intimacy terror. Looking for grown-up man [howl] who is NOT terrified of my stealing his soul or bank account, interested, in the face of all adversity in finding someone to talk to and be friends with, and then maybe have sex with, and then maybe read the paper with, and then maybe discuss partnership with. I estimate that this will take about 25 years to develop to the partnership- discussion phase.

You could be: irreverent, self-deprecating, brilliant or just quick on the uptake, established in your life, secure not smug, open, reasonably easy on the eyes, poor as a churchmouse or rich as a failed dotcommer CEO with an excellent golden parachute, able to deflect sarcasm and boundary pushing with a single droll comment...and a cat lover who has read Michael Ondaatje.

Or you could be someone completely else. I am high-maintenance verbally, low-maintenance logistically. The rest is impossible to detail with any accuracy in an ad.

Tell me what you think (if it's not designed to blow my ego to bits) and we'll process this interminably and maybe meet for...caramel squares or something.

Thanks!

N Judah Haikus

2006-03-06T14:54:00.000-08:00

too afraid to scream
back door please, back door
i keep on riding

during the delay
some people read and others
watch some people read

the metallic worm
funnels through our cement tomb
right steps going down

the fat driver eats
Taco Bell and KFC
the same company

you are beautiful
the way you lean on the glass
with neck like dove's crane

the punks always smell
that is their statement i guess
please take a shower

automatic mode
is a mode in which things run
according to fate

i get off the train
still thinking about your face
we would get along

Luscious Geek--we slept together--you had to be at work by 4 AM

2006-03-05T03:53:00.000-08:00

My Sweet,

I woke up and you were gone! Tore the house up but couldn't find you anywhere. I forgot to tell you I'm falling madly in love with you. The passions we shared this weekend--I confess, I've been dorkwhipped!
But you left so early--was it something I said? something I did? something I poured on you and licked off?

Perhaps you don't understand the depth of my passion. Well let me tell you:
I would face my technophobia for you! I'd learn to bank online. I'd even stop calling 1-800 numbers and find what I need on the web, just pleeeeeease come back to me! I need my very own computer geek.

My printer is still broken and I plan to be very VERY grateful when you get it working again. Yes, you are the skilled technician to fix everything that ails me. You have the hands of a musician, and the concentration of a brain surgeon. I've got an a: drive that wants your to have disk inside--I promise to use virus protection--oh, download me, baby!

Am I coming on too strong? Is that what sent you out into the night? Please forgive me for being so wanton, but you bring it out in me. Can we please play the naughty computer store salesgirl and the curious consumer just one more time? Will you surf my web? install that hard drive? kiss me and murmur obscure programming commands in my ear?

Only you have the password to this account. I knew my only chance would be to post something online.

passionately awaiting your next email,

geeklover

Narcoleptic Alcoholic Nymphomaniac Needs Help to Fill in the Blanks

2006-03-03T13:14:00.000-08:00

I am at a loss. I cannot find my wallet nor my shoes. I woke up this morning in a place called India Basin?? I was wearing a suit that lit up and played "When the saints come marching in". I don't own any clothing that plays music. If this is yours please post a comment. I have a few questions for you.

Hungry Girl Seeks Foreign Chef

2006-03-01T09:52:00.000-08:00

I am looking for:
a man who loves to cook.
under 32
foreign
someone who wants to try out their recipes on me
Must speak intermediate english, spanish or russian. Better than intermediate is fine too.

ME:
Young, Hot, Sexy
I'm pretty, american chick with blonde hair
I speak spanish and russian
I am not fat yet.. I hope you can do somthing about that Mr. Chef.

If you were born in the USA you will not be considered

Starbuck$

2006-02-27T10:29:00.000-08:00

I have a confession to make: I love Starbucks. To protect my identity I won't tell you my favorite drink, but no place I've tried around here makes it like Starbucks. I crave it. Also, I love the cute young girls that work there. They always seem so happy to see me, they remember my name, and quite often on slow days they will start making my drink even before I've ordered it. Once they even gave me one on the house! One day I came out of Starbucks with my favorite drink in my hand and got behind the wheel when I heard a knock on my car window. A strange woman who had been standing in the parking lot handed me a pamphlet and told me I shouldn't patronize Starbucks because they are unfair to coffee farmers and the cream they use comes from cows that have been mistreated, etc. I felt bad and stopped going to Starbucks for awhile, mainly because I didn't want that woman to see me. I started patronizing a local, independently-owned coffee place which will remain nameless. I went there at least 3 times a week for several months. But I often was made to feel like I was interrupting them from their reading or socializing with each other. They sometimes seemed annoyed to see me, and on at least one occasion I skipped stopping in for a coffee because I didn't want to bother them. I never got one on the house, that's for sure. Well, I am happy to tell you that I am back at Starbucks now, and they noticed I was gone and welcomed me back! I'm sorry, but if you want my hard-earned $3.85 you are going to have to offer me more than just "we are locally owned" or "we are native city people." Business is business.

For Sale: Several Years of my Life

2006-02-24T22:14:00.000-08:00

I've been very pensive over the past few weeks, and, after a bit of reflection, I've realized that several of my 33 years of my life have not been the greatest. Not to me at least, though I'm sure other people might enjoy them. However, I do not care to hang on to them, so I would like to announce this amazing, one-time offer!

You have the opportunity to buy a year of my life! All years are in good condition, though previously used. Ownership of such years could be a good thing for those who are looking to get back to their childhood or want to remember how much youth can suck. You could even get one for someone as a gift!

The following years are for sale:

Year 5: This is the year that I started school and began to lose hope for signs of any intelligence in my generation. It didn't help that this was the year that my brother got a water cannon and spent the entire summer testing it on me. Ailments this year included one broken left arm.

Year 9: I didn't really have many friends this year, because we moved three times. People who enjoy solitude should consider this year. This was partially a happy year, because we left Arizona and moved to Oregon. No major physical ailments this year.

Year 13: Ah, the descent into typical teen angst. This would be a great year for someone who enjoys the overly dramatic, featuring many shouting matches, slamming doors, and even throwing occasional books and vases across the room. Exciting. Physical ailments this year included a broken right arm and a bruised sense of independence.

Year 15: The year I spent in boarding school. Not a pleasant situation at all, but if you've always wondered what a lock-down institution was like, this just might be the year for you! This year takes place in Provo, Utah, though you have no access to the nearby skiing.

Year 17: Senior year at a Catholic high school. This affirmed my original speculations during kindergarten concerning a lack of intelligence in my generation. This year was spent being generally disliked for standing up for myself and my principles, but then trying to convince myself that I didn't need any friends anyways. Great year for someone who thinks that they wasted their 'wonderful' high school years.

There you have it. Unlisted years are possibly for sale upon inquiry, but the above listed are the ones that I'm truly interested in getting rid of. My asking price per year is 73 mangos, though I may be willing to sell to the best offer, or work out a barter of some sort. For further information concerning sales, or the conditions/experiences of each year, simply contact me.

Friggin Lake Norman Yuppies

2006-02-22T23:23:00.000-08:00

Unlike the girl scouts, these people get on my nerves 24/7/365; at least the girl scouts are like cicada swarms that pass within a few weeks.

Mr. LKN - with your damn metrosexual haircut blabbing on your cellphone about your latest golf game or arranging your next teetime for anyone within earshot to hear. Since you talk overloud that is pretty much anyone in the same restaurant or corner of Target. I don't give a shit about what deal you are working, I'm trying to eat here jackass.

Ms. LKN - with your bony ass bleached blonde hair. You are so perfect you make me want to vomit. You too seem to have a cell phone glued to your ear every waking hour talking about a wine&cheese tasting or some other useless bullshit that anyone in earshot can hear.

LKN Offspring (male teens) - you ignorant son of bitches coming out of a McMansion subdivsions in a new Acura that mommy&daddy just bought listening to rap music that shakes every car in 100 yards. Yes, you are from the hood you little pricks and are true gangstas, the LKN crips and their archrivals the ballantyne bloods.

LKN Offspring (female teens) - princesses in training. Good lord what a bunch of simplistic materialistic bitches. You too have acquired your parents knack for cell blabbing while driving. Small wonder I haven't been hit by one of you on the road.

LKN Offspring (preteens) generally these haven't been corrupted yet and if a distant relative can rescue them there is hope for them to grow up in a normal environment. Sadly, this never happens to most of them, they just progress into unbearable assholes as is their destiny.

WHAT CAN BE DONE?
I say round em up and shove em all in their Lexus sport utilities with multiple dvd screens and lock them in. Roll them slowly down a boat ramp
(ala Susan Smith) to their reward. Of course Susan Smith's kids didn't
deserve to die that way but I digress...

And stay the hell off of my lawn you brats....

-SBC +Comcast (for some US residents)

2006-02-21T22:44:00.000-08:00

If I had a "do over" I would have NEVER signed with SBC DSL. Probs from DAY ONE. They sent a defective modem and I spent a month trying to convince tech support in INDIA that I had not improperly installed the DSL softwear. I have a home business and lost THOUSANDS of $$$. They finally sent out tech support who confirmed that their hardware was defective. They gave me a $20 credit. Oh boy! Years later...when I go to renew my contract...they refuse to be flexible with time frames. My parents are ill and I suspected that I would be moving across country soon. In order to not pay the exhorbitant monthly fee I had already been paying for 2 years - I had to sign a year contract. And, this was after I had waited for an hour to speak with the rude customer service rep. My father is now in the hospital, I am moving to the East Coast and have to pay SBC $99 to get out of my contract. With all the competition for High Speed Internet Providers ---DON'T CHOOSE SBC!

Might as well take the neighbor's wireless internet instead.

Where can we get an abortion for our pedigree dog?

2006-02-20T18:43:00.000-08:00

Our lovely Pedigreed Minature Poodle was violated by our neighbors Golden Retriever. She somehow got outside when the delivery people came by and was impregnated in front of our house in broad daylight. The neighbors maid called us. I was able to rescue Madonna from the male but we now know she is pregnant. We dont want Her to have this litter of mixed puppies because we were hoping to breed Her in the springtime with another lineage from the area. Needless to say my spouse and I are completly devestated by the turn of events and found we are unable to sue the neighbor because both our dogs were loose! We cant go to our veterinarian because he handles other peoples dogs we know and are afraid they might find out.

Now Madonna lays around and eats a lot. She's become fat and I cant even take her out to meet the other dogwalking regulars because they will know she's pregnant. Has anyone else in the blogger community encountered this before? Im willing to fly her anywhere to have this problem taken care of. PLEASE HELP US. and Happy 2006.

Al~Qaida terrorist will leave us all alone ...

2006-02-20T18:09:00.000-08:00

If we could only just Extinguish all of the immoral depraved deviates our overly so called free society alloys ...If we could eradicate the entire AIDS carrying Homosexual community , and Hollywoods loser liberal left, and the Diversity daycare center colleges of dumbing down feel goodism, and the hedonistic heretics in the Demoratic Party. Al ~Qaida would leave us be.....Its not the people of the US not even the BUSHIES Al~Qaida hates.... Its the perverted immorality of the lunatic left...So if we rid America of all lowly mentally ill Homosexuals , and all the left wing immorality. Then Islam will be cool with us! So lets make it Matthew Sheppard Jihad day everyday in every state so Al~Qaida will leave us alone !

Asian's Can't Drive

2006-02-18T16:21:00.000-08:00

my best friend is chinese...
and many years ago he onced forced a cop off the road and into the neighbors ivy.

I won't ever ride as a passenger in his car... ever.

the good thing is the cop knew our family, so we had a good laugh.

and this happened way back in the mid 70's.

i'm bored

2006-02-16T19:37:00.000-08:00

i'm bored.
really.
i'm so bored that i'm boring my dog, who at present is flopped on her bed giving me a reproachful look for my complete and utter failure to even remotely serve as entertainment.
damn dog.
maybe she should go out and earn a living, instead of sleeping all day and showing her thanks to me - her savior, her center, her alpha, her protector - by shredding her poor inanimate brethren (is it sick to give a dog a stuffed dog?) and distributing cotton batting throughout the house with wanton abandon that would suggest that she has the opposable thumbs to clean up this tragic mess.

amount of cotton batting out of stuffed toy : size of intact stuffed toy = 3:1. maybe even 4:1. it's like those chinese noodles that expand upon hitting the hot skillet. this is truly a mystery to me, as i have generally founds physics to be boring and therefore do not pretend to understand the quirky properties of cotton batting.

i guess i could clean it up. but i think i'd be even more bored.

chronic underemployment is boring. bitching about being laid off is boring, even though my story has some spice involving sex and a balding yuppie with a napoleon complex. (i didn't have sex with aforementioned balding yuppie. these are two separate yet intertwined facets of said spice.) eh, whatever. that story has grown tiresome. if i'd even had stock options or had made some money the story might be less tiresome, but i was less flighty and shallow than some of my mercenary brethren.com. (i am dumb.) i thought my company was full of cool people, which was more important than my bank account, dammit, because i'm not quite 30 yet and everybody knows that if you're in your 20's and you're not carrying at least a 4-digit balance on your credit card, you're not living enough.
or you haven't gotten your trust fund yet.
this city has lots of people with trust funds. maybe i should be nicer to them.

sometimes i think that boredom is like sperm. it's a cumulative buildup due to which, should there be no release, you suddenly find yourself craving some action, absolutely unable to concentrate and depressed and and emotional yet full of malaise and obsessed with finding said action, at the same time increasingly worried that there will be no release, that you'll eventually just drown or explode from this overflow of malaise (not sperm, remember, this is a simile - otherwise that image would be kind of gross), that you absolutely don't even know if you can go on another day without release, or maybe you should just stay asleep for as long as you can to avoid thinking about it.
but maybe boys just exaggerate this sperm buildup thing in order to woo us female types into feeling sorry for them.
note to self, gents: the "blue balls" excuse/plea/line really doesn't work after high school.

i guess i could search the internet for apartment listings. kind of fun to watch prices drop. except i just moved. what if i see a place that's a better deal than mine? then i'll be depressed. but it's more heartening than searching the job listings, though, which are about as exciting and plentiful as david hasselhoff's musical stylings. (not that i'm complaining of this paucity - david, less is more.)

my dog is throwing a stuffed tigger around the room and rolling all over the floor. maybe i should try this. she doesn't look bored anymore.

no, better to save my energies for the all-important job hunt. god forbid, it may be time to go back to temping. can you make a career of boredom? temping would seem to embody a big fat "yes" on that account. on the plus side, temps are expected to be bored. their whole existence centers around a fleeting apperance to tackle the jobs so boring that salaried employees simply refuse to do them. so, then, i would at least be paid to sit on the computer all day, dissolutely surfing job postings and IMing my gainfully employed friends about my general malaise, my sorry 9th month of unemployment (i know, i know - pathetic), the irony of the ever-infuriating "over-qualified but under-experienced" line that i've been given since i graduated. i don't even know what this means. i once had a lady tell me i was too smart to take the menial position for which i was applying; does she think this made me feel better? it made me want to punch her in the nose.
that would have been exciting.
i think i'd be bored in jail, though.

maybe i should start drinking every day at noon. would i feel more or less bored if i was lubed every day? i dunno. but rehab would be pretty boring, i think.

the dog's asleep again.
i think i'll take a nap.

if you want to join me, leave a comment

We Sell Sexy Chicks

2006-02-15T11:41:00.000-08:00

Welcome to MacLesbos. We are offering a special today on overly-image-conscious, bi-curious and lonely girls with intimacy issues, may I take your order?

Uh, yes-- I'd like to order a medium sized, butch dyke, and could you please hold the S&M? Light humiliation is fine.

I'm sorry we're out of butch dykes, would you like an FTM or Boi instead?

Yeah, a boi is fine, I want brown eyes on that, hair shellacked, and tatoos.

Would you like to super size that for an extra dollar?

No, medium sized Boi would be fine. Could you make sure that she's 5'6, well dressed, fit and as shallow as I am?

No problem, would you like a drink with your order?

Yeah, a diet coke. And make sure she knows that this is a descreet encounter.

You bet! That'll be $5.65 at the next window.

Butt Sniffing Strongly Encouraged

2006-02-13T17:32:00.000-08:00

Female party animal seeks handsome mixed mutt for playground fun. This she-dawg likes many things, but truly seeks to run around the fire hydrant with a hound that will race to nibble her ankles easily and often, that enjoys experimentation, especially on the old wool blanket, and doesn't mind nibbling on a little herb. We can be pals or more, it'll depend on your smell... But it'll have to me a strong chemistry before we ever hit the dog house blanket together... or lots of liquor accidently spilled into the ol' water bowl! {{howl!!}}

I can assure you that I am a very playful and adventurous and a pretty mixed-breed with a steady stream of kibble to my bowl, and my own playground. You would love partying with me. I'm easy going and easy to please. I am also open to steady play dates and more with just the right scoundrel.

But right now this she-dawg just wants to have fun after a long week out in the world. And if you would scratch me behind my ears, I just might lick your face. Please don't bark up my tree unless you are seriously ready for a change of pace - a breath of fresh air. I ain't no ordinary alley stray - I'm the one that's been locked in the yard and wants to see what everyone else has been doing. My coat and teeth are shiny and clean, and my tail has that special wag of anticipation. Come on, let's pant and droll on the rug together!

All breeds encouraged to toss a bone into the bowl, bonus points to all that had their maleness snipped. No puppies for this bitch!

My expectation from this: Nothing more than a new playground friend to run around the neighborhood with, or just snuggle up with on the living room fur rug (I'm not allowed on the couch) with some great tunes and maybe some mutual belly rubbing 'til our legs go crazy in mid-air. Be aware that I'm not looking for matching dog collars, I'm looking for a playmate that doesn't use chain link fence, and no long ropes to a tree out in the yard. A collarless romp in the yard sounds pretty good to this old dog entering the second half of Life. The only ropes in our yard will be silk scarves from my master's drawer. ;-)

And hey, I don't need you to bury a bone for me, but if we could maybe share some Kibbles 'n Bits occasionally I think it'd be nice. Smoky doggy-breath and fleas are deal breakers, but a snoring hound dog is okay with me. I won't even banish you to the back porch. :-)

If you're between 252 and 343 in dog years, I'd love to hear your growl and maybe even your bark! I am 5'5", have a great laugh and an easy smile, a devilish twinkle in my eye, a delicious curvy body with nary a stray patch of fur, and a totally open mind that is 301 dog years young.

Come on baby - let's howl at the moon together!!! Hey! I live near a fire station too - that should bring some great howl opportunities as well. So bring over your frisbee or old chew sock and let's enjoy some time getting to know one another. But be forewarned that currently "owned" hounds will be tossed to the curb!

Please tell me more about your lineage, your breed, and your personal playground dream. You need to say more than "arf-arf" to attract my attention! I'm the show-dog who's tired of prancing around the ring... what's your story?

P.S. Butt sniffing strongly encouraged. :-)

Sound Advice for 'Bi-Curious' Girls

2006-02-10T13:24:00.000-08:00

Sound Advice for "Bi-Curious" Girls
-------------------------------------

Okay, first off, if you want to get laid, avoid using the term "bi-curious." It is a flat-out turn off to anyone who has spent any time in the queer community. It sounds dumb, and it makes you sound dumb. Now you know.

Secondly, leave out the sob story about the long-suppressed fantasy. Heads up, every queer here has a sob story! Yours isn't special, in fact its boring.

Thirdly, just describe the woman you want. Skip the sexual history and don't worry about coming up with a label for yourself. Saying (and showing) you're into girls is usually proof enough. If she cares about the rest, she'll ask.

Fourthly, go to gay bars. If you don't know where one is, do your homework. Make some phone calls, surf the internet, walk around the Mission. Meet people. Treat everyone you meet as a potential friend, not a potential fuck. Friends are good. You can be honest with them and ask them for advice. Queer friendships can support you through the coming-out process.

Fifthly, lower your expectations (can't say it enough). Not all girls are cute, but some of them are smart and funny as hell.

Sixthly, leave your boyfriend out of it and at home. If he wants a threesome, tell him to take it up the ass from another man while you watch.

Lastly, confidence is the number one sexiest quality in any woman. If you sound ambivalent or unsure of yourself, how can you expect anyone else to take you seriously? Take heart, be brave, and seize the day.

TECHIE LADY LOOKING FOR LOVE!

2006-02-10T13:21:00.000-08:00

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Its not real, its just a joke.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hi-

I'm a late 20ish IT professional who's looking for a fellow tech nut
to talk about operating systems (mainly linux and solaris), databases (primarily oracle and mysql), perl and shell scripting and, oh yeah, also have lots of hot cheap sex. I can't tell you how many times I've been at work and one of my fellow engineers will start talking about compiling source code, or using rpm to install a package on linux and all I can do is think about how bad I'd like to "rollback his segments" (a little dirty
talk for all the db admins), but you can't shit where you eat, so I'm forced to turn to this blog for love.

I know what the "finger" command does and I'm not ashamed to use it!

Give me a try. I think you'll find that my perl scripted, automated online backups aren't the only thing "hot" about me.

BTW, I'm super cute, in shape, lots of fun, disease free, have a reliable car and a porn star body and I'm really a woman.

Brunette, high black boots, 7:30 AM, Market-Spear-Mission

2006-02-08T11:33:00.000-08:00

Strikingly attractive brunette, high black boots, short skirt, nice little knees poking out, 7:25 AM this morning (Tuesday) Market Street made a right on Spear. Looked like you were walking into the building on the corner of Spear and Mission, but the light changed and I had to move on for fear that the large angry testosterone filled truck driver behind would get out and kick my ass, not that I was sweating her, just didn’t think it was cool to be blocking traffic, pondering how to get next to you. You were walking too quickly (couldn’t tell if it was the determined-to-get-to-my-desk- before-7:30-and-kick-some-ass walk, or the malodorous-people-dispensing-fliers-leave-me-alone walk, or it could have been, god forbid, the ignore-the-cute-professional-guy-checking-me-out walk) for me to catch the menacing ring finger. Whatever the walk, or ring finger status, you simply must respond to my bellow of pining. If not you, then your friends or coworkers who are reading this blog and know exactly whom I am talking about. Do a good deed, go over, and let her know.

You Crushed my House, but Looked Good Doing It

2006-02-08T11:11:00.000-08:00

You: Cute boy in the giant robot chasing strange extra-terrestrial beings. Me: Girl cooking fakin'bacon when your robot's foot came through the roof of my apartment. I think you broke my toe, but I also think we made a serious connection. I could see the passion and intensity in your eyes as you looked down at me through the windshield. Too bad that giant jellyfish dragged you away so fast. Could we do coffee sometime?

In Search Of : The Elusive Bi-Female

2006-02-07T18:25:00.000-08:00

Shhh. We're stalking the most elusive of creatures, here in the steamy jungles of the internet. Yes, I'm speaking of the legendary bisexual female. Of course, there are several variety of bi-F, and many can be found at watering holes, cafes and Osento.

But the mythic bi-F, those rare few interested in being the 'guest star', 'third wheel', 'girlfriend' with an established couple, well, that's a sub-species that can make a biologist's career.

Even today, no one quite knows how this species behaves - what motivates them, how do they reproduce, how can they be lured into displaying their beautiful mating behavior in one's bedroom. How does the 'bi-curious' behavior differ from the more established 'bi.' Do they enjoy wine and 420? Does a hot tub interest them? It's a mystery.

Markings from several of these rare creatures were sighted on the internet, but the predominance of '23 year old bi Asian hotties' led some researchers to be suspicious and there is some evidence that these were frauds posted by Big Dave in IT to throw us off the trail.

More recently, internet causal encounters has been experiencing a cyclical overpopulation of prostitutes, men looking for 'the ladies', and men wanting to fuck on stairs. This has led to an increased scarcity of bi-F sightings and some fear they may have become an endangered species.

Nevertheless, brave researchers such as myself continue in our quest. Using solid science, phermone therapy, witty postings, and Photoshop-enhanced "pics" as bait, we wait, and wait...

So you're showing my apartment?

2006-02-06T07:08:00.000-08:00

I've been getting a lot of comments, if I answer some of them then it may kill the joke(s). Vibry is doing good, almost overheated...

Yesterday after coming home from an extremely long, stressful day of work, I plopped down on the couch to relax for a bit. Laying in front of the TV is great, but an orgasm would really help me blow off some steam. Lucky for me, I had recently purchased a rabbit, so I retrieved that from my bedroom, returned to the couch, and brought up some gay porn on my laptop(side rant-- will someone please make porn tailored to women?) Just as I was beginning to get that tingling feeling that happens before I come, I heard the sound of someone trying to unlock the door to my apartment. WHATTHEFUCKISTHIS!? Shit! I am naked from the waist down holding a loud-ass vibrator standing in front of a laptop on which a man is moaning loudly and telling another man how he wants him to "put it in my ass!" SHIT! WHO THE FUCK IS COMING IN THE DOOR RIGHT NOW?

I completely panic. My shaking hands try desperately to turn the vibrator off, but in my excited state I completely forget how to do it..there are so many buttons!! why did I buy the fancy model??? I rip the batteries out of the stupid thing after fumbling with it and wasting precious seconds. I throw everything in the closet of my bedroom, close the door, and start to look for some pants. Then I remember that gay porn is still being played loudly on my couch. FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! I could hear the sound of the second lock unlocking. I dash back into the livingroom and try with my again shaking hands to at least turn the volume down. The door is opening at this point so I snatch the laptop and scurry half-nakedly back to my bedroom while depressing the volume button. Unfortuately, I hit the wrong side of the volume button and deafeningly loud moans are now emanating from my bedroom--gay men moans. Shit! People are in my living room now. I yell "ONE MOMENT!!!!" as loud as I can, trying to try to drown the sounds of Brad getting slammed in the ass. In a complete state of terror I make the unwise decision of throwing the laptop as far under my bed as I can, hoping that the boxspring and mattress would be enough to muffle the sound of my laptop at full volume. Sadly, it was not. People are milling about in the apartment now, so I grab some shorts from my bureau and emerge from my bedroom to greet the realtor and prospective new tenants in a dress shirt and shorts, flushed, and visibly shaken. I introduce myself over the sounds of an apparent orgy in my bedroom to a profusely apologizing realtor and a smirking couple. I summoned as much dignity as I could, smiled devilishly, and returned to the fake orgy in my bedroom as they showed themselves out.

RANT: The Rules of Breaking Up

2006-02-04T23:42:00.000-08:00

There seems to have been some confusion regarding division of property and space since we have broken up. YOU, hereafter referred to as the Dumper, do not retain the same rights to such things as ME, hereafter referred to as the Dumpee. Clearly the Dumpee has been wronged (except in certain situations, see Section 1(b) below), and thus retains more rights than the Dumper. To clarify, I have assembled a crack legal team to outline this document, so that you will quit being a complete and total prick. Actually, not all of these things apply to us, but for the sake of friends, family, and members of the general public who have also been Dumped, I’ve included other situations.

This document applies only to those relationships that involved terms such as “boyfriend” and “girlfriend,” not couples who have taken that long argumentative road-trip that ends in the State of Matrimony. Caveats have been made for engagement, as most rules still apply.

Section 1: Terms of Separation (hereafter termed the Breakup)

(a) The rights of the Dumpee shall be directly proportional to the severity and immaturity of the methods of Separation used by the Dumper. For example, a Dumper (hereafter termed a Good Dumper) who breaks up with Dumpee face-to-face, in person, in a private place, and outlines issues which the Dumpee was aware of, and in fact is not too surprised at, with said discussion ending in a tearful hug cherished by both parties, and perhaps an incident of Goodbye Sex, shall not be severely punished. However, a Dumper (hereafter termed a Bad Dumper) who breaks up with a Dumpee in an especially cowardly way, such as over the phone, through email, or by having a friend tell the Dumpee, shall experience extensive limitations on rights after the Breakup. Most severely punished shall be those Dumpers (hereafter termed Assholes) who repeatedly Breakup and then Beg Forgiveness, and Dumpers who have Cheated.

(b) Exceptions to the Dumper/Dumpee division of rights are as follows: Dumpees who provoke the Breakup by avoiding the Dumper until such time as the Dumper feels forced to end the relationship. Dumpees who intentionally get caught Cheating and are shortly afterward, Dumped. These Dumpees shall be considered as Dumpers for the purposes of this document.

Section 2: Division of Property and Space

(a) Material Property
(1) If the Dumper is a Good Dumper, all material property that Dumper brought to the relationship shall be returned to the Dumper. Likewise, all property the Dumpee possessed before the relationship shall be returned to the Dumpee.
(2) If the Dumper is a Bad Dumper, or an Asshole, Dumpee has the right to destroy or sell any property left for any period of time in the Dumpee’s possession. This includes, but is not limited to, furniture, electronics, kitchen wares, clothing, CDs, and cars. Dumpee is aware that destruction of items holds a possibility of legal ramifications and continuous retaliation, and destroys Dumper’s property then at their discretion.

(b) Gifts
(1) Dumpee retains all rights to gifts he or she received during the relationship, especially expensive ones. In the case of a Good Dumper, Dumpee can determine whether return of these gifts is acceptable. If the Dumper was female, and the Dumpee was male, and said parties were engaged, and said engagement ended in a Good Breakup, the engagement ring should be returned to the Dumpee. If the Dumpee does not want the ring, the Dumper can sell it on Craigslist and split the profits with the Dumpee. Bad Dumpers and Assholes retain no rights to jewelry or cars.
(2) Dumpee can, if feeling spiteful, box up all gifts received from the Dumper and return them to Dumper with a tear-stained letter. Dumper should feel sufficiently bad, and should not, under any circumstances, maintain possession of these gifts in order to give them to future Girlfriends/Boyfriends. Said gifts should be sold and Dumper is then welcome to use the money to take a vacation to Tahoe and hopefully, break their leg skiing.

(c) Exchange of Property
(1) If the couple was living together, and the Dumper has moved out, the Dumper should send a friend to pick up his or her belongings. The exception is a Good Dumper, who may be on sufficiently good terms with Dumpee to come back and retrieve their own things. If this is the case, it should still be done while the Dumpee is Not Home. Bad Dumpers and Assholes forfeit their belongings, as outlined in Section 2: (a)2.
(2) If the couple was living together, and the Dumpee has moved out, the Dumpee will send a friend to pick up his or her belongings at an appointed date and time. Said friend will not be late and will not linger. Said friend may make a few rude remarks to the Dumper, but such remarks should be brief and to the point. Again, if the Dumper is a Good Dumper, the Dumpee can pick up their own belongings when the Dumper is Not Home.
(3) If the couple did not live together, exchange of property should be done in public at an appointed date and time. Both parties shall be on time and shall not linger. Again, rude remarks shall be brief.
(4) Items not claimed by the Dumper within one calendar month after the Breakup are the property of the Dumpee, unless exchange of property arrangements were made prior to the end of that month. Likewise is true for items not claimed by the Dumpee.
(5) Items that “Cannot Be Found” by either party shall be considered a lost cause after one month. If it was really that important, you shouldn’t have let that idiot have it.

(d) Big Ticket Items
(1) If the relationship included the purchase of a car, a house, a prize-winning show dog, or other such item of which you now both have dual legal ownership, you are in Deep Shit. Maybe you should have thought about making that kind of investment together before you pissed your whole life away? Wait until you’re married, dumbass.

(e) The Pet
(1) See Section 2: Article (d)1 first. If you still want to deal with the Pet (hereafter termed the Dog), we’ll continue. Dogs that were owned by either party before the commencement of the relationship shall return to their original owners. Dogs acquired during the course of the relationship shall preferably go with the owner who gave them the most care. C’mon, you know there’s one of you who did all the feeding, the training, the walking, the pooper-scooping, the leash-buying and the ball-tossing. The Dog goes with that one. Except in the case where that person is a Bad Dumper or an Asshole, in which case, Dumpee retains possession of the Dog. There shall be no Split Custody, or Visitation Rights involving the Dog. It’s not good for the Dog, and it’s not good for you. If all things regarding the Dog were absolutely equal, then a Poll of Friends may be taken, or a Coin may be Flipped. Decisions made by PoF or CF about the Dog are final. If you did not get the Dog, and you are distraught, wait 2 weeks until your head clears, and then go to the Humane Society and get another one. You will be much happier that way.

(f) The Kid
(1) Sigh. Okay, first see Section 2: Article (d)1. You are an idiot. Haven’t you heard of birth control? Well now it’s not just you in this boat, so a lot of the earlier terms and conditions about Dumpers and Dumpees may not apply. Even if your Breakup involved a Bad Dumper or an Asshole, you will have to be nice, for the Sake of the Kid. This is really outside the range of this document, so go to court and try not to screw up your Kid’s life any more than you already have.

Section 3: The Friends

(a) The Dumpee gets the Friends. Sorry, dems da breaks. If you were smart about picking your relationship, you were dating somebody who was not from your immediate circle of friends, so when you Breakup, you each go cry to your respective group and everything is dandy. Unfortunately, many friends become Booty Calls, which can then become That Girl I’m Sorta Dating, which can then become Your Girlfriend. Relationships over one year also have a high incidence of Combined Friends. Regardless, the Dumpee still gets the Friends! But there are some details/exceptions/conditions associated with the possible future division of Friends, so here they are:

Specifics of Division of Friends

(1) In the case of a Good Dumper, Split Custody is acceptable. Within the first 6 months, a Good Dumper has the right to still hang out with the Friends, but only if the Dumpee is not present. After 6 months, it is acceptable for the Dumper to call the Dumpee and request mutual access to the Friends. If Dumpee is amenable, the two may attend a party or barbeque together with the Friends. The Good Dumper is at all times aware of the Dumpee’s feelings, and will be the first to leave if things get awkward. After one year, expect normal Friend-Dumper-Dumpee interactions to resume. If you got dumped by a Good Dumper and you are all hanging out again after a year and you’re totally cool and you’re not strongly reconsidering getting back together, then Damn. He’s probably gay. That’s cool that you guys are still friends though. Maybe you can shop and stuff.

(2) In the case of a Bad Dumper, Visitation Rights are acceptable, under some circumstances. Bad Dumper only retains Friendship Rights with his or her Best Friend, and then, only at Best Friend’s discretion. Everyone else is fully justified in telling you to piss off. After one year, a Split Custody arrangement may be made, but Bad Dumper is never to be allowed at a party that the Dumpee is attending. This must be enforced strongly by Friends and the Dumpee.

(3) In the case of an Asshole, no rights are retained regarding the Friends. Not even to the Best Friend. You fucked up but good, so now go find yourself a bunch of shallow, selfish people just like yourself, so you can all get drunk and stab each other in the back. This also applies to such Dumpers described in Section 1; Article (b), as those Dumpers who pose as Dumpees are especially despicable.

(b) Relationships with Friends after the Breakup

(1) Under NO circumstances is a Dumper allowed to sleep with any of the Friends after the Breakup. ESPECIALLY the Dumpee’s Best Friend, but truly, there are NO exceptions. Even if she says it’s okay. Even if you guys have a long talk about it and she says it’s fine and she wants you to be happy. You better take a good look at a girl’s Friends before you get Committed, because if you would ever like to possibly sleep with one of those girls, you should not enter into the Relationship. Good Dumpers who break this rule can then be qualified as Bad Dumpers. Sleeping with the Best Friend immediately qualifies you as an Asshole. (Best Friend can also then be Broken Up With, and most of the terms of this document apply.) Remember, Assholes are open to justifiable destruction of property, and are often deserving of a swift kick in the Balls.

Section 4: The Neighborhood

(a) The Dumpee retains all rights to the Neighborhood, including but not limited to, grocery stores, shopping malls, dog parks, coffee shops, bars, hang-outs, strip malls, carwashes, and restaurants. If the Dumper sees the Dumpee in one of these places, the Dumper must immediately leave. The only exception is a Good Dumper who is back on Good Terms with the Dumpee, especially one year or more after the Breakup. See Section 3; Article (a)1 for details.

All terms of this document are not legally binding, but they make a hell of a lot of sense. Don't be an Asshole, and your life will be so much easier.

(In case you didn’t get it, this means I get the stuff, the friends and the hangouts. Quit whining about your freaking sweatshirt and stay the fuck away from me.)

Why I'm giving myself a vibrator for Christmas

2006-02-04T07:40:00.000-08:00

Well, once again it's Christmas, and I must admit I am not at all full of the spirit this year. Why? Well, you could say it's because my boyfriend and I split up, or that my parents got divorced and my dad got hitched to some woman he probably met on CL, or because I'm too fucking cheap to buy Christmas presents.

Well, all of those things are true, but that's not what Scrooged me this Christmas. In fact, there's no Scrooging going on at all, because I'M NOT GETTING LAID. That's right, folks, I'm not getting any of the ho-ho-ho. No one, not even a fat man in a red suit, is squeezing down my chimney this Christmas. In the past six months, I've had sex exactly once, and it sucked. And I'm starting to get horny. Really horny.

There are ominous internal signs of my horniness. My hypothetical "age range" has increased by about ten years in either direction, so that I now carry three accessories in my purse for the right moment with that special guy: condoms, Viagra, and lollipops. I've had sexual fantasies involving the hairy-chested bartender at my favorite drinking establishment, the guy who delivers produce to the restaurant I work in, my forty-five-year-old married boss, a character in a novel I read (an imaginary man! Not only imaginary sex, but imaginary sex with an imaginary person!), John Cusack, the guy at the gym who always wears a Rage Against the Machine T-shirt, and that guy who comes into my restaurant every day with his laptop and orders coffee. I can only pray that my preoccupation goes unnoticed by my friends and coworkers.

So, you ask, why don't you just get it over with and get it on? It wouldn't be difficult. I'm attractive, in shape, late twenties, intelligent, decent sense of humor, up on current events, blah-de-freakin-blah. Not like any of that shit really matters to most guys, as long as you have a fully functional and disease-free female genitalia. Well, here's why I'm maintaining my abstinent streak and giving myself the gift that will keep on giving, an Aqua Rabbit waterproof vibrator:

1. My new vibrator will not start begging me for a blow job before I even get him out of the box.
2. My new vibrator will not ask me to "snuggle."
3. I will not have to make awkward post-coital conversation with my new vibrator. I won't even have to look at him. He'll be stashed neatly away in my nightstand drawer.
4. My new vibrator will not tell all the other household appliances that I like to do it doggystyle and be smacked on the ass with a wire hanger.
5. My new vibrator will not shut down just when I'm about to have an orgasm, and if he does, it's nothing that three fresh AA batteries can't fix.
6. There is no chance that my vibrator will give me an STD or impregnate me with a screaming, snot-tipped baby vibrator.
7. When I'm done, I can turn my new vibrator off and he won't grumble or try to lay a guilt trip on me. I won't have to endure ten more minutes of monotonous pounding while I stare at the ceiling and make up my daily to-do list in my head.
8. My vibrator will not steal the covers in the middle of the night or fart in bed.
9. My vibrator will not beg me to get a Brazilian bikini wax or any other costly procedure involving the ripping out of my taint hairs by a complete stranger.

And finally,

10. Anytime I want to I can upgrade to the larger, more powerful Synergy model with oscillating action, six speeds, and five interchangeable attachments. My old vibrator will not threaten me, speed by my house at night with his stereo blaring, tell his friends I was a "psycho bitch," or call me up at 3 a.m. drunk and remind me of all the great times we had.

You know why? Because he's a fucking vibrator.

Merry Fucking Christmas!…and I mean that in the best possible way.

One-Night-Stand Boy: I have a small request

2006-02-03T13:10:00.000-08:00

One night stand boy,

Thank you for buying me all those fancy, lime-flavored drinks, and thank you for listening to me as I got tipsy and rambled on. Thank you for taking me home and fucking my brains out, thank you! Thanks for being a good guy and having condoms with you, and for wanting to use them, and being a responsible person. Thank you for needing to use more than one, and for having a huge dick. All in all, a wonderful one-night-stand experience.

I realize that men are not all as enthusiastic about clean up as women, and that you as an individual may not be as fastidious as I am. So thanks for dealing with the used condom. Thank you for not just throwing it on the floor next to the bed like one guy I dated, who also threw his dirty socks and underwear next to the bed and thought I would pick them up and wash them (he did not stay long). Thanks for getting up, even though you just came, and going to the bathroom to throw away the condom. Hopefully you tied it, and your potentially infectious bodily fluids will not spill. (I do think most men know by now not to throw it in the toilet, but thanks anyway for not doing that.)

I know all of this was a lot to ask in exchange for a night of hot sex. I do, however, have just one more request to make. Look at my bathroom. Look at the trashcan. It is one of those little blue bathroom accessories and it matches the other accessories. There isn’t much in the bathroom trashcan. Some cotton balls, maybe a Kleenex or two, the packaging from an eyeliner I recently bought.

A few months ago a certain hot one night stand threw his condom in the trash on top of all the q-tips, and since I was pretty much passed out in the bedroom after a fantastic orgasm (thanks!), he then got dressed and left. Several hours later, around 4 a.m. I got one of those emergency calls to go pick up my recent ex, who had been in a car crash--nothing dangerous--and was unable to drive home. He was upset, and lonely and of course I brought him to my house because I thought he needed company. I did not know at this point that there was a used condom staring up out of my bathroom trashcan. As you can imagine, my ex was less than thrilled and I did not get any sleep that night.

I also occasionally have more than one one-night-stand in a weekend. I do try to clean up after them, but sometimes with the hangover and the going out again, things are not as tidy as I would like them to be. And when I bring a guy home, a used condom in the trash is not really a sexy accessory. I know, it’s my house and I should clean it. I know, I’m a slut (but you weren’t complaining last night). So, given that the bathroom is full of handy things like toilet paper and Kleenex, would you mind terribly wrapping the condom up before you throw it away? I promise to give you a great blow job in exchange for your consideration.