Married Men

The guys in highschool are more or likely sweet and doting. The southern gentlemen in them open the door, pay for the meal, and get you home at a decent hour. They love everything about you, until they realize that another girl might be interested in them. You then see them fading away and realize you don't have them in the palm of your hand anymore. You've been replaced by a new model, and you now look like an idiot. The late bloomers do the above first couple of steps, and then they, also. find a different model. It happens in college, too, but, sadly, it's simultaneously while you're dating them. Some women will continue to date them. I was one of those idiots. We're stupid and aren't taking the hints. As I was one of those idiots, I hope it's not hereditary. The previous mentioned men are now some of our husbands. A few things have changed, though. The sexy, hard to get men are living in our house, peeing on our toilet seats, bugging the hell out of us every chance they get, and, in some extreme cases, telling us women are hitting on them. I remember when Anal Adam and I were dating, and I would make sure every eyelash was separated evenly, my clothes showed just enough skin, and I had worked out so hard that week for the perfect body I almost got a heat stroke. Anal Adam broke up with me after 4 months of dating, and I worked out the next few weeks and starved myself so he would think I was irresistable the next time he saw me. He wouldn't be able to say no to my woman charm. We got back together, but it wasn't over a mature dinner but a night at the club. Believe it or not, Anal Adam got scared, dumped me, and NONE of it had to do with my looks. My husband was once considered a player. I didn't know that then, and I sure as hell wouldn't know that now. After about 2 years of marriage, I find myself hiding from him for some flippin privacy. I remember working out for hours a day to make him think I'm hot, and I've locked my amazing sex pot out of the guest bedroom so I could lay on the bed without being bothered. Don't get me wrong, I love my husband, but Anal Adam will make me explain exactly what he did that made me mad. This causes me to go into a fit of rage, and I try all I can not to kill him with the closest hard object next to me. If I don't put my dishes in the dishwater within 24 hours, Anal Adam puts my unclean dishes on my desk in my office. The man definitely didn't do that shit while we were dating! So while some men love to act like their wives are hard core making them do all theses things they don't want to do, it's complete bullcrap. Men are smart, REAL smart. They have used us as escape plans. Anal Adam uses me as an escape plan every time someone asks him to do something. I've the witch of the Northeast J town because of his ass! Anal Adam goes to bed at 8 pm every night, puts anything I own thats out (stapler included) in my purse, and he thinks I'm hot when I have no makeup on and gross. Where was this information while I was at the gym all week buying skimpy clothes to make him want me?? So women, men don't care what we look like, always, and they sure as hell don't care what we wear. We've got to quit focusing on thinking about what they want because they're stupid. They want us, sans our crazy tendencies. We chose to marry the players, the nice guys, and the free spirits and the only way it will last is if they except us for who we are and vice versa. Happy hunting!!

What Month Is It?

So recently I've been trying extra hard to be positively positive, and I've about had it. This month I have been in Memphis every week, and one week I was in training in Indianapolis. Indianapolis is a place where I would die happy if I never had to go back. The people there don't have friends. The city has individuals, I call Onesies, running around scaring the shit out of other people. My friend BB and I were walking to Forever 21 and we were almost attacked by a couple of Onesies. The Onesies need to go to a local fast food, clothing, or Goodwill store and get a damn job!!! BB had to show me that one Onesy wasn't pregnant needing money, she just shoved a bunch of crap up her shirt. What a slut!! I totally fell for it!

While we were at training, we did go home and study every night. I tried to, but people peer pressured me to go out. The last night we went to eat at this awesome restaurant. Some chose to go home and get ready for our presentation the next day. Some chose a different path that led to bowling with alcohol and karaoke with alcohol. You can only guess where I was peer pressured into going.

Let me just say that I hope my bowling skills never indicate how I will succeed in life. I bowled a 27 TOTAL my first round. If you don't know anything about bowling, people who miss thier turn several times do better than that. WTF!! I will say I think I may have redeemed myself at karaoke. I sang "F* You" by Cee Lo the first song, and the crowd went wild. The second song I got cocky (alcohol induced), and I sang "Can Anybody Find Me Somebody to Love" by Queen. Not really sure why I continued. Could I just have been the one hit wonder? Lesson learned: stop while ahead.

So I'm back home, and I'm drinking wine watching "Predator 2". Life really doesn't get much better than this. When I get done with my job, I like to ache from laying around too much. I think most people feel that way but are afraid to admit it. I, also, think I tell myself that because I am one of the laziest people on the planet. Positive Point: tomorrow is Friday, laying on my couch is at my fingertips!