Sunday, December 30, 2007

The Revenge of the Dildos

Just so y’all know I torment my children with equality.

My son has recently started to date a very Christian girl. She has him going to church and has made him cut back on his partying. Even though I'm basically a Pagan, I think she is a good influence on my son who sometimes gets carried away with enjoying himself.

A couple of weeks ago he was bringing her home for the first time. I was under strict instructions not to have any of my sex toys and/or catalogs lying around the house. Just so you know I’m a “Slumber Parties” distributor. I don’t just leave dildos scattered hither and yon around the living room. That would be fun though, don’t you think?

Having just received a stock order of these:




I put them into a cardboard box and left it on a small table until I could put batteries in them to “test them out.” (*wink, wink*) The table happened to be by the DVD holder.
I then left to do something else. Leaving the room “dildo” free …. Kind of.

My son and his girlfriend come home, introductions were made and they decide to watch a movie. My son is a big boy, tall and solid. He is not particularly graceful and was nervous that his new girl was meeting his somewhat odd mother. Needless to say, as he went to get a DVD, he kicked the table and the vibrators, dildos, plus assorted lubes and lotions came flying out of the box all over the floor!

I only wished I had a camera to capture the look on his face. It was something like this:



His girlfriend initially had a “deer in the headlights” look but quickly dissolved into hysterical laughter and damn near passed out from laughing as my son made diving leaps to snatch up the toys and bottles. That “double header” is 18” long, about 4” around and is wobbly – I almost broke a vein in my head laughing at him with that one in his hand. He didn’t find the whole escapade too funny which made is so much better for me.

Somehow I feel like I scored a little “gotcha” for Tony as well as myself and gave him a dog/human high-5. It was a good day!

Saturday, December 22, 2007

I've been reading too many sex blogs.

The other day my daughter was relating yet another story about her crazy neighbor. My daughter & SIL live in a townhouse. The woman next door has exhibited bizarre behavior over the past 8 months they have lived there.

Apparently the woman was outside in the front of the townhouse on the cell phone. My daughter heard her talking on the way out to pick up her mail. Upon turning to go back into her house, my daughter actually saw the woman. She was still speaking on the cell phone but also urinating on the tree in her front yard!

Mothers can understand when I say that many times you listen to your children but their words dance happily along the outer surface of your ears and never really penetrate into the alert part of your brain.

I said to my daughter, her words cha-cha-ing in my ears, “Maybe she’s a slave or submissive and she’s on the phone completing an order from her Dominant.”

My camera wasn’t handy so I found this picture that captures the expression on my daughter’s face perfectly. My daughter is very beautiful. She holds no resemblance to this primate except for the look of total shock at her mother’s knowledge of such subjects.



My daughter is 30 and is a breast cancer survivor. She’ll deal with it. Eventually.

Monday, December 17, 2007

BWAAAAHAHAHA!




Friday, December 14, 2007

Menopause Shower


I’ve been futzing with my “first date” blog recently. I’m trying to get it the way I want it. In the middle of all this writing and editing, I got sick. Remembering that several people have praised the remedial qualities of Nyquil, I immediately began self-medicating. Oh! My! God! Nyquil dreams are the BEST!

My office is filled with marriageable and/or childbearing age women. I am sick to death of bridal and/or baby showers. I tired of buying gifts. Maybe I’m just selfish but my current idea is to have a “Menopause Shower.” The shower invitations would be on heavy cream-colored stock, copperplate engraved. Gifts would naturally be required, however only expensive jewelry, fine wines and exquisite chocolates would be accepted. Guests would be formally dressed and we would dine on expertly prepared cuisine made by the hunkiest top chef we could find. A ceremonial burning of Midol and tampons would close the evening. Don’tcha just LOVE this idea?

Back to the Nyquil dreams – I dreamt that my “Menopause Shower” was happening! It was fantastic. Bare chested hunks served me and my guests’ delicious champagne and hors d’oeuvres. Then they tended to us all through dinner and beyond. I never wanted to wake up. It was orgasmic!

Sadly, I did wake up to reality. I think I cried. I’m not sure because I needed another dose of Nyquil.

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

A Cautionary Tail


While y'all are waiting for me to post my "date" story, I thought you might like to read about my every day life:
This is for all the parents of young children. They grow up. This is also for people without children: print a copy of this and carry it with you. It is printed birth control.

As some of you may know, I have three dogs. Tony is a 7.5 year old beagle. He’s a nice placid beagle very different from my other beagle, the psycho goddammitwalter.

Tony was bought for my son (you’ll hear more about him in a moment) after his other dog, Lance, died. Tony, whose full name is Antonio Blue Bandaras, was named by the breeder and we kept it. When Tony was about a year old, he injured his back jumping off my son’s bed. Major spinal surgery followed. He’s been fine ever since, until this morning.

My usual morning routine is to get up, drink some coffee then walk the dogs. This morning, I went to get Tony out of my son’s room. He was on the bed and when I called him he climbed over my sleeping son and more or less slid off the bed. He staggered to me and sat down. He would not get up. Then he had a seizure.

Robert, my son, woke up at this point, I think because I started to scream. He picked Tony up and Tony seized again. I knew I wouldn’t be going to work; I’d be going to the vet. Robert put Tony down on one of the dog beds and he began to sway as he tried to lie down. He finally did lie down and there he stayed. I was very concerned that he had hurt his back again and there was no way we could afford that surgery again.

I called the vet and was told to go to the emergency vet clinic. I got Tony into the car and off we went. He was very wobbly and lethargic in the car. Once at the ER vet, I was told that all the vets were there doing rounds and they would all look at Tony. Three and a half hours later the head vet came out to say that the neurologist thought Tony might have a brain tumor or a spinal lesion. The dollar signs danced in my head. The ER vet suggested I take Tony to my regular vet for blood work, etc. to save some money. So, back Tony and I go in the car.

On I-95 my cell phone rings and it’s Robert wanting to know how things were going. I told him what the vet said and Robert wonders if perhaps the POT Tony ate at 3:30 in the morning might have something to do with his problem.

Had I not been half way to the vet and driving 80 mph on the interstate I would have turned the car around and gone to where my son works and beaten him with a bat. You all could have seen my mug shot on the news. Instead, I just looked at Tony and realized the dog didn’t have a brain tumor of spinal lesion; he was stoned out of his mind!

I really need a cigarette at this point but I can’t hold onto the dog and drive at the same time. I also needed a drink but that was out of the question. The reason I wanted nicotine and alcohol so badly was I had to carry a toasted beagle into the vet’s office and tell them he had eaten my son’s stash.

Now, I know that you’re all wondering what the hell kind of parent am I. I think I’m a good parent. I was honest with my children when they asked questions, I told them the dangers of drugs, alcohol and unsafe sex. They both managed to graduate high school and make it to adulthood but let me tell you – children do not listen to you. They just don’t. They think they are so fucking smart and you are so fucking stupid, they have to go out and try to prove it.

They will come back and tell you you were right AFTER they’ve screwed up. The satisfaction there is you can say, “I told you so.” Those are my four favorite words right after, “Here’s your chocolate cake.”

But, I digress. Just remember, your young children are so cute, enjoy them while they are little. They grow up.

Tony, whose new name is, Antonio “Cheech & ChongBandaras, will be fine. He’s been flushed with charcoal and fluids. He’s walking and eating lots of doggie treats. He does seem to want Twinkies, for some strange reason.

Robert, who works for his father, will not be getting paid for the next two weeks and is now forbidden to have any animal in his room. The remainder of his pot is now sealed in a coffee can and has been placed on the top shelf of the closet.

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Up"date"

I'm working on the story of my first "date." It was odd to say the least. The last time I actually had a date Led Zeppelin performed "Stairway to Heaven" live for the first time. The final broadcast of Dark Shadows aired on ABC-TV and Jim Morrison of The Doors was found dead of a heart attack in his bathtub. I also was graduating high school. Needless to say things have changed!

So, bear with me until after Thanksgiving and my "girls only" weekend. For all of you celebrating the holiday - May your turkeys be moist, your gravy without lumps and your pies without calories!

Sunday, November 4, 2007

Valentine's Day Massacre




When I was younger, I was very romantic. Hard to believe, I know. I liked to think that my X would pick up on the romance idea from hanging around me. That was not to be but I carried on being romantic for many, many years. When my loved ones spoke, I listened. At appropriate gift giving times they would get things they has wished for, longed for or just might have mentioned. I had an excellent memory. Unfortunately I discovered that like the masses, loved ones don't always listen to what is said to them.

At one point, several years ago, the X decided he would give me a Valentine's Day gift. Up until then, I had been giving him and the children small gifts for the holiday and making a heart-shaped chocolate cake for that evening's dessert. I'm not sure what prompted this display of affection. I think it might have been my brother-in-law at the time who was always giving my sister-in-law flowers and/or small gifts - for no fucking reason other that she was there! Imagine.

On the day in question, he triumphantly presented me with a box of chocolates. I LOVE chocolate. Milk chocolate, white chocolate, dark chocolate. Smooth, creamy, nutty, caramel, peanut butter - any kind of chocolate with anything on it or in it, I'll eat it. I have never met chocolate that I don't like - until this innocently disguised heart-shaped box of horror.

I don't know if Elmer's Glue is sold internationally. Elmer's Glue is a viscous, opaque white substance used most often for sticking two pieces of paper together. It's basically harmless, children use it in school so eating it shouldn't produce any lasting effects but it's not tasty. The chocolates in this box were: Elmer's. I had no clue that the Elmer's Glue company produced chocolates with old glue! The insides of this candy was the consistency of Elmer's Glue that had been left open for awhile. I believe that the neon pink, green and yellow color of the goo was to indicate various flavors, of which there was none. All of them tasted the same - EXACTLY like old Elmer's Glue covered in faux chocolate.
Being a semi-nice person back then, I didn't want to discourage the X. He didn't/doesn't take any sort of criticism well. I mentioned that I'd never heard of Elmer's Chocolates and wondered which gas station en route home sold them? I also kindly said that Walgreen's sold "Whitman's" and "Russell Stover" chocolates. I left the box in the fridge for the kids. Sometime around June I decided to discard the box. The children didn't eat any. They had tried as there were a couple of half-eaten pieces laying in there leaking their glue-y centers.

The following Valentine's Day brought the second box of "Elmer's." The glue company had not improved their candy recipe at all. The children said to their father, "Dad, that's really bad candy!" When my children won't eat candy, especially chocolate candy, I knew it must be just downright awful. This year I wasn't as nice. I thanked him for the thought and then told him this was not candy I enjoyed. I again brought up the names of "Whitman's" and/or "Russell Stover." I continued with a list of stores where this chocolate could be purchased and even tossed in where he could buy "Godiva" for good measure. The box was thrown away, unopened.

On year three when the "Elmer's" evil box was on the table Valentine's Day morning, my son and daughter had the "deer in the headlights" look on their faces. They quickly disappeared when my head went like this:

And I began to scream like a banshee with a pack of wolves after her -
"HAVEYOULOSTYOURFUCKINGMIND?WHATTHEFUCKAMISUPPOSEDTODOWITHTHIS?CAN'TYOUEVENREMEMBERWHITMANSORRUSSELLSTOVERFORCHRIST'SSAKE?ITCAN'TBETHATTAXINGONYOURBRAIN!!!!"

After that year and up until two years ago, I was given a box of Russell Stover chocolates bought with money my X gave my daughter.


I still think he should just consider himself lucky I only divorced him.
(The company that makes the glue doesn't make the chocolate. At least I don't think they do.)






Thursday, November 1, 2007

Blogging is hard!

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket See all those little white things bouncing around? Those are my thoughts.

Friday, October 26, 2007

10 Minutes




I think I have ARADD (age related attention deficit disorder) because I was composing my story about the Valentine's Day candy and got distracted by a squirrel.


Today in The Sunshine State was gray and gloomy. If you didn't see palm trees out the window and people walking by in shorts, you'd swear it was going to snow. The 82 degree temperature was also a dead giveaway we weren't in Fargo. I went outside to smoke (no chiding, please.) Down on the ground by a car was a squirrel, happily munching on an acorn. We have some very pitiful looking oak trees here. He didn't run in terror when I approached, rather he looked at me with a, "WHAT???" expression. He made me smile.

He continued to look for acorns on the ground, occasionally glancing at me just to make sure I wasn't going to snatch his lunch. He hopped along and then went up the tree, still looking at me every so often. At one point he actually stopped dead, stared me right in the eye and began swearing at me in squirrel-speak. I laughed out loud right there in the parking lot, all alone.


I think I was out there about ten minutes. I had ten minutes of sheer peace and happiness. Ten minutes where I didn't worry about my life, money, global warming, bills, work, the war, the X, my children or Hillary becoming president. It was glorious.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Are you for real?



We all know the Internet horror stories about pedophiles and crazed axe murders. Or even men and women who seduce then bilk a person out of their life savings. Also the people that pretend to be famous to get ill-gotten gains. Those stories get tons of publicity. The stories that don't get noticed are the ones about everyday people getting hurt by impostors. These people don't lose money or life; they lose trust and self-confidence. Aren't those things precious, too?

Recently in my new world of blogging an impostor was revealed. I never read her blog but she lied and plagiarized. Even a newbie knows that isn't right. Her outing caused her to lash out viciously against other bloggers. She appears to be a real bitch-on-wheels. This incident brought back two very awful impostor stories to me. So, instead of the Valentine's Day Candy Saga, I thought you might like to read about my experiences with liars, cheats and scoundrels lurking in cyberspace.

About four years ago, when the X decided to flush everything down the toilet, I needed a distraction. My new job had Internet access. My co-worker listened to AOL radio. I kept hearing a song over and over, the guy's voice made me wet. I found out it was "Nickelback," the singer was Chad Kroeger. Now, y'all stop laughing. I've heard it all - He's the ugliest man in Rock & Roll, All their songs sound the same, Nickelback sucks - yada, yada, yada. I don't care. The man is smokin' hot to me. I adore the music. I've experienced IO's (instant orgasms) standing on the rail at their concerts. But, I digress. My love of Nickelback led me to my deep involvement with the Internet. I joined a Nickelback message board run by three sisters and met my BFF, Amelia.

Amelia lives is Australia. At the time, she was very vulnerable. Her 22 year marriage was breaking up, she lived all those years in a very isolated area and was afraid of venturing into life again. She was desperate to believe she was attractive and desirable. The three sisters, who in my opinion would have made great witches in Macbeth, got Amelia convinced that the head of security for Nickelback (Hawk) was in love with her. Hawk and Amelia were having cybersex, talking about meeting in Oz on the next tour, sharing little private jokes, etc. Amelia was truly ass over tea kettle in love with Hawk. Me being me, had doubts that I tried to convey to Amelia. She was deaf to my concerns. This went on for almost a year.

When the three sisters tired of playing with Amelia, they dropped her like a cat drops a dead rat. As the tale unraveled we discovered what the three sisters had done. They treated Amelia cruelly and without regard for her emotional and/or mental state. Amelia was devastated. We spent hours, days, weeks on the telephone and messenger. She was suicidal. Her spirit and confidence had been crushed. She overdosed on alcohol and prescription drugs but was rescued. She did, however, lose custody of her three children to her ex-husband. I have never feared for someones life and sanity as I did Amelia's.

The tree sisters have abandoned our Nickelback board, leaving us twisting in the wind. I imagine they are off tormenting someone else when they are not de-winging flies. I am happy to report that Amelia has met the love of her life and will be getting married soon. She still hurts when we talk about what happened but has overcome the damage that was done to her.


The second incident also involves Nickelback. Another person from this same board pretended to be a famous tennis player. I played along. It didn't harm me because I wasn't losing anything but time. I'd listen to her problems and follow along with her "tournaments." She even had her boyfriend, another famous tennis player, emailing me. Getting advice from me on their relationship. Hey! It was something to do and she wasn't hurting anyone as I believe that I was the only one she was bullshitting in the beginning. Then came a time when she got friendly through MySpace with one of Nickelback's crew members. She began promising him things. Meeting him, playing tennis, etc. She never came through. He questioned me and I felt at that point it was time to end the charade. I wasn't bothered by her delusions but he could have been hurt. After Amelia, I wouldn't want anyone hurt or even embarrassed by an Internet impostor. I sang like a canary! She was really, really pissed off at me.

Being a skeptic and cynic is my nature. It's not everyone's. I rarely get my feelings hurt but will always try to be aware of not hurting others. I think impostor's, liars, plagiarizers and the three sisters are detrimental to us good peeps. The Internet allows people to hide behind the mask of anonymity but they should at least be themselves, leaving us with at least some of our self-confidence and trust in our fellow humans intact.

Friday, October 19, 2007

In-Laws or Outlaws?

My X-Mother-in-law asked me if she did anything to make me divorce her son.

I suppose I could tell her it was her fault he was born. Couldn't I? Not that it would do any good, she can't put him back. I kept him much too long.

It did rather surprise me that she would think that she was THAT important in my life or that she could anything so horrid that I would leave her son because of it. I thought it was very presumptuous of her. She has a martyr complex, I believe.

I've been struggling to get all of the incidents leading up to the final episode down to the Reader's Digest version. That ain't gonna happen. I now think it might be therapeutic to write about the high-lights. This will give me an opportunity to vent, analyze then discard them; or at least put them to rest. I'll also get some different perspectives (hopefully) from comments.

My next post will explore the Valentine's Day candy saga. Stay tuned!

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Blah!

I'm feeling blah today. Kind of semi-depressed and sad. I'm not really sure why. I've been working on a blog so all y'all that stumble in here could get to know me a bit more. I don't want to say I've hit a wall but I'm stuck. My theory has always been even if you are on death's door when someone asks you how you're doing, you say, "Fine." I'm finding it most difficult to tell even the unknowns in cyberspace that my life is out of control and I'm responsible for most of it.

A wonderful friend of mine told me I was like a caged animal yearning to be free but comfortable in the cage because I'd been there so long. This is true. Why couldn't I grow girly-balls earlier than I did?

I can't cry over what's happened but only look forward to what's to be. I'm trying to. Really, I am.

Update: I found this over at Fancies & Fuckeries:"


width="300" height="180" alt="What Kind of Blogger Are You?" border="0" />

Sunday, October 14, 2007

I Want This!




Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Begin


Sadly a beautiful, intelligent, funny, educational, inspirational door closed today in the blogging world. "The Sensuous Libertine" will publish no more.

So, as this door has shut I thought it might be time to open a window. My window where I'll look out at the world and let the world look in on me. Just keep your fingers crossed that I don't jump out of the window.

I can't bear to say, "Goodbye, Cherrie." I'll just say, "Hope to see you soon."

Sunday, August 12, 2007