New Year’s Resolutions can Suck It

homer_simpson_angels_and_demons-11209I’ve been on my annual downward spiral into “holy shit…I’ve gained 10 pounds” hell since Halloween that will continue until after Easter, at which point the “holy shit…I have to get into a swim suit” in two months will set in…at which time I will purge the pantry and refrigerator of all things glorious and tasty and replace them all things that taste like cardboard and packing peanuts.

It’s not that I don’t try, it’s just that I have the willpower of a kid in a candy shop. For example, in the beginning of January – when I am supposed to be “eating healthy” – the family decides they want to go to Red Robin (a.k.a. the place where fried is king and cholesterol has is driving the party bus right into your heart arteries). I see the Tower of Onion Rings on the menu. I pause and look to my right shoulder where the skinny-assed “Angel Me” is waving her boney-ass finger in my face and shaking her head saying “No, no Christie…a moment on the lips is a lifetime on the hips.”

And in that moment…as saliva is pooling in my mouth…I hate “Angel Me.” Frankly, I find her incredibly boring and majorly unfun, with a perpetual pole stuck up her ass (like her sister how sits atop my Christmas tree.)

Then I look to my left shoulder, and there looking phat (no…not “fat”) and happy is “Devil Me,” dancing Gangnam Style…laughing and having a grand old time. She looks at me and says, “Have the damn Tower of Onion Rings girlfriend…you only live once! Life’s too short. We all die someday and no one is going to give a shit if you have an extra ten pounds on while you’re laying stiff in the coffin. But what they WILL remember is that you were FUN! CAREFREE! And not a stick in the mud like Nancy No-Sin over there!”

Of course, all of this happens in a matter of seconds as I wait for the rest of my family to order. I take a quick assessment of the rest of the crowd at the restaurant and realize that my fellow fried food feasters all look incredibly happy! They’re smiling and laughing and trying to get their sulking, salad-eating, carb-starved table buddy to do the same!

And then it hit me…Jesus and his disciples broke bread at the last supper! Jesus ate carbs and asked that his devoted followers do the same! At the moment, my husband pulled me from my reverie and said…

“For the love of God, Christie…will you order already!”

To which I replied excitedly…

“Yes! Yes! Exactly! For it is for the love of God that I will prove my devotion and order the Tower of Onion Rings and bottomless basket of fries! And bring me a glass of wine too!”

Amen!

(Do you think Jesus had Tums?)

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Mamma Goes to the Hustler Store

*STOP*

If you’re easily offended…this blog post is NOT for you (but frankly…it should be!)

So, my book club was having our own “50 Shades of Grey” party and, in the spirit of the book, decided to have a “naughty gift exchange”. Since most of us weren’t sex toy savvy, I decided it warranted a trip to the local sex store: Hustler.

Thank you Larry Flynt.

I am not ashamed. I am not embarrassed to have ventured where no missionary position-loving mamma has gone before. I went forth bravely into the world of SEX paraphernalia and emerged with a frequent buyer card.

Okay…maybe not the frequent buyer card.

Here’s a first hand account of the Hustler Store experience (along with some “helpful hints” for Larry)

First…They need an “incognito entrance” for those of us who, while not ashamed to be there, don’t want to advertise to the outlet mall crowd (which is right across the street) that we’re shopping there! It’s right off the outlet mall exit at Monroe and FACES THE ROAD!!!

So, I walked in and was relieved to discover that it wasn’t as “seedy” as I thought it would be. I was greeted by two perky younger girls who said, “Hi hon…what can we help you with today?”

Oh…the myriad ways I could have answered that question! But I left it with, “Oh…I’m just browsing”…so I looked like an even bigger weirdo. I’m guessing not many people drive all the way to the Hustler Store just to “browse”…if you’re there…you usually have a distinct purchase in mind!

Anyway…OMG!!! For a novice…one wouldn’t even know where to begin! Which leads me to my second recommendation for Larry…

A “Self-diddle” Dabbler section for those who want to “try” self-gratification but don’t want to commit the big bucks yet! And let me tell you…the “high quality” toys aint cheap. The ones that are?…You’d probably do just as well with your garden variety cucumber.

One thing I was especially curious to check out were “the balls” that Christian and Anastasia used in the book. You remember – when she had them in while they were at the gala at his parent house and she nearly had a “When Harry Met Sally” orgasm moment several times over??? I had to check it out for myself. Here they are…

In reality…they’re about the size of marbles. How in the hell is THAT going to give me pleasure? In theory…what goes up (as in the balls) must come down…right? But shoved up my “anatomical bridge to nowhere” that served as a birth canal three times over, they’d go up and be blown out my nose hours later.

So I asked the store lady: “How in the hell do you know that you’ll ever get these out?”

Store lady: “Well…frankly…that concerns me too so I recommend the balls that are attached to a little cord…kinda like a tampon, for easy ‘retrieval’.”  (Hhhmmm…I may have to live with loose Kegels and peeing when I laugh)…

So, fyou could get these…”Magic 8 Balls”

I don’t know about you, but my pelvic muscles already feel tighter. And the added benefit? Feeling a little doubtful about how he’s feeling about you? Shove these puppies in, ask a question, jump up and down and few times, pull them out and viola…you’ll have your answer!

They had rows of porn movies, fetish paraphernalia (whips, handcuffs, riding crops, gags…I could think of several non-sexual uses for these!) and entire wall dedicated to your ass. After hitting this section of the store, my butt cheeks were permanently clenched.

For example…”The Booty Rocker”…

Honestly, I could anchor my light up, outdoor Santa with this thing. Who buys this stuff????

I must be old…I have enough trouble keeping things coming OUT of that orifice!

And for your vibrating pleasure…you too can have a Soraya Black for a mere $200…

$200??? Is it turbo charged??? 200 horse power so when this puppy comes on you can “ride” it like Seabiscuit??!!! With vibration like that, my 44-year-old insides would be permanently rearranged with my ovaries in my armpits.

They even had a table dedicated to “50 Shades of Grey” and “toys” that were mentioned in the books themselves. In the end, for our “naughty gift exchange”, I bought handcuffs made out of candy (a la the candy necklaces of yore) and a “pocket” vibrator in the shape of a bunny…

Now that’s something every women wants stuffed in HER Easter basket!!

50 Shades of Grey…Creating 40-year-old “Femme Fatales” One Chapter at a Time

So, my book club is reading 50 Shades of Grey this month. Of course, I’m already on book 3 – 50 Shades Freed but that’s for another day.

Anyway, in order to get into the spirit of the book that has changed the way married couples have sex, I decided to incorporate a “Naughty Gift Exchange” into our usual over dinner discussion. Everyone was to go out and buy a…ahem…”toy” to wrap up and exchange at some point in the evening.

It went over like a french kiss at a family reunion.

Why??? I don’t get it. Everyone is jumping on the BDSM bandwagon, as evidenced by a recent USA Today article entitled “Many chain stores now add a Toy aisle for adults”…

CVS, Walgreens, Kroger, Safeway, Target and Walmart are among major national chains that now include vibrators on store shelves. These devices (also known as personal massagers or vibes) have been around a long time, but their availability on the mass market is relatively new. Condom makers Trojan and Durex are among brands that have expanded product lines to include vibrators, starting with small vibrating rings. Durex launched its first handheld vibrator in 2008, Trojan in 2010.

“We’re talking about the Walgreens and CVSes of the world — not the dot-coms and sex shops and things of that nature,” says Durex senior brand manager Alan Cheung of the U.S. headquarters in Parsippany, N.J.

So why isn’t anyone blushing?

With the erotic Fifty Shades trilogy still topping best-selling book lists and a movie (Hysteria) about the invention of the vibrator opening across the USA this week, the summer is starting out steamy. Sexperts cite a combination of factors, including marketing that targets average women. They also trace societal changes to 1998, when a Sex and the City episode broached the subject of vibrators. And in the early 2000s, Tupperware parties gave way to parties selling vibrators and sex toys.

“People are more comfortable than ever talking about vibrators and the idea of having one,” says Bruce Weiss, vice president of marketing for Trojan, based in Princeton, N.J.

Even the fact that vibrators are the focus of a feature film illustrates how times have changed. Hysteria is a period comedy set in 1880s London.

“Couples are less willing to tolerate lousy sex,” says sex therapist and clinical psychologist David Schnarch of Evergreen, Colo. “People have much higher expectations.”

I like to use the “Hotdog” analogy

Say that for 20+ years (the average length of time that most 40 something couples have been married) you ate nothing but a plain old hotdog on a bun…every night for dinner.

Even though you LOVE, LOVE, LOVE your hotdog…after 20+ years, it might start to get a little bland…but you eat it anyway because you still love it.

Then…one night…you introduce a little SPICEY MUSTARD…and viola! You’ve breathed new life into your beloved hotdog. It’s new…it’s fresh…it’s exciting! Then, you realize…your options are ENDLESS! You can add ketchup, relish…hell, even onion to your cherished hotdog and it just gets better and better.

Sometimes…you might even want to go back to the plain old hotdog because you’ve missed the simpicity of it. And that’s ok!

You just now know that you CAN teach an old “dog” new “tricks” (or in this case…”trick out” and old “dog”!)

“Butt-Chugging”, “Vodka Tampons” and “Eyeballing”…Do You Know What Your Teen is Doing????

Vodka…it’s not just for drinking anymore.

Who dreams up this stuff anyway? Teens…that’s who.

I have three of my own, one of which is heading off to college in the fall. I’m no shrinking violet but the stories out there about the lengths teens are going to for a quick and easy “buzz” are disturbing (not to mention VERY DANGEROUS!)

Why can’t they just drink underage normally like we did? One beer (by mouth) at a time???

Apparently, gone are the days of teens fearing “beer breath” and hours hugging the “porcelain God”. By “consuming” alcohol rectally, it bypasses the stomach and the acid in the stomach and is absorbed directly into the bloodstream, and viola…faster buzz, no alcohol breath for parents to smell, and no risk of barfing.

Nope…the quickest way to the good old fashioned buzz is through the asshole…and eyeball…or the asshole and eyeball simultaneously if you’re feeling particularly adventurous.

Just be sure to bring some Vaseline (and make sure you effectively “wiped”)…

Butt-Chugging

Hhhmmm…is this the reason for the rising popularity in ass-bleaching? Because everyone at parties nowadays will see your pooper?

It’s the same “beer bong” as the “old days” – a funnel attached to tubing – only instead of inserting the tube into your mouth, the tube is inserted into the rectum.

Hhhmmm…I wonder if “Frank the Tank” will do a Butt Bong in an “Old School” sequel??

Vodka Tampons

Check your manhood at the door fellas.

Apparently, a tampon can absorb approximately the equivalent of a shot of vodka (unless of course, you are using the super-absorbency version, in which case, you’ll be doing three shots).

How exactly they shove a fully-absorbed tampon up their butt is beyond me…

Vodka Eyeballing

 

This method is particularly convenient in that the “consumer” won’t be able to see the rest of the group laughing at what a dumbass he/she is.

 

 

 

Gummy Bear “Shots”

 

 

Sure he looks innocent…but after swimming in a pool of vodka, this little bear packs a potent punch.

 

 

Pregnant Man Splits from His Wife…and Gets a Penis

Thomas Beatie…the only “dad” alive who could suffer from endometriosis and erectile dysfunction simultaneously, announced on a recent episode of CBS’s “The Doctors”, that “he” is splitting from his wife of nine years.

Beatie and his wife, Nancy, have three kids together, all conceived through artificial insemination from a sperm donor. In the interview Beatie said, “Like all marriages, we have our ups and downs, and we’re going through a rough patch right now.”

Ya think?

Of course, now that Nancy’s had to spend nine long years being “strap on Sally”…Thomas decides it’s finally time to bite the bullet and get the full monty…aka “phalloplasty” or the artificial penis…no batteries required.

Nancy hasn’t seen it yet, but rumor has it, she’s been seen having coffee with her new BFF: Lorena Bobbitt.

I can only imagine the weird conversations in the Beatie household:

“Not now kids…daddy’s PMSing!”

“No – those are not mini-Sweet Tarts…they’re your dad’s birth control pills”

“That’s not toothpaste…it’s daddy’s vaginal cream”

“Honey…is this your douche or mine?”

“Daddy’s not mad..he’s just nervous because his pap smear came back abnormal.”

 

Deltalina: Read her lips (how could you miss them?)

Gone are the days of the In-flight “Safety Dance”.

This is 2012 people…now (at least on Delta flights) we have “Deltalina” (as in Angelina…as in her Tomb Raider) role. Yes, the redheaded hottie of the new Delta video is an internet sensation! A ga-zillion hits on You Tube!

Perhaps it’s jealously on my part, that I am the antithesis of “Deltalina”…I am just “Delta” (formed when things go “down hill”…as in the skin on my face. I swear my eyebrows use to be an inch higher at at some point in my life, I really did have some semblance of cheekbones…and lips…and a jaw line…and more bags under my eyes than a luggage carousel.)

Of course, it could be a lack of sleep on the flight to Puerto Rico, due to the spanish speaking snorer seating directly behind me! Just when I’d start to noze, “Felipe Phelgm” would make a sound like he was syphoning a loogie from base of his brain and I’d be wide awake again! But I digress…

Anyway, I had my own “transcript” running through my head while the video was playing…

First off, her finger-wagging “no smoking” warning…

Deltalina: “Smoking…is not allowed on any Delta flight. But only because it could possibly ignite my over-hairsprayed helmet head.”

Deltalina: “Should smoke fill the cabin…I won’t know because my nose is now too small and like overhead luggage, may shift in flight.”

Deltalina: “A water evacuation is unlikely…most seat cushions can be used for floatation …as can my lips.”

Truthfully, after riding coach all of my life, I’m convinced it’s only the first class seats that can be used as flotation devices. We yeah hoos cramped back in coach won’t be able to squeeze out of our seats to evacuate in the first place!

 

 

True Confessions: Father “John” Meets the Bi#ch from the Burbs

My youngest daughter is making her confirmation tomorrow.

Part of the process is the idea that one should enter their life as an official member of the church, free of sin. So I thought…perhaps now would be a good time to “clean my slate” as well.

Going to confession is still not something I’m comfortable with…especially these days. It’s not like the movies where you walk into a room and a faceless priest sits behind a partition (so he can’t see you either) and you go about confessing all of your dirty deeds.

Oh no…these days it’s more like sitting down with Oprah and my “sins” read like a 10 Top List on Letterman.

My most recent trip to confession was all downhill from the beginning…

Me: Forgive me Father for I have sinned, it’s been…hell, how long has it been? 5 years?Sh#t…I said “hell”…Oh my God…I mean gosh…can I start over?

Priest: You’re fine…go ahead. (Did he just roll his eyes? HOW UNPRIESTLY)

Me: Ok thanks. I have a kind of list here…(I dig in my purse to find it, taking out and accidentally turning on my Ipod that my son had been listening to while he was cutting the grass. Unfortunately, it started to play…loudly…the last song he’d listened to (“Get Low”), with lyrics that went something like…

“To the windowwwwwww, to the wall, to the sweat drop down my balls, to all you bitches crawl.”

And worse yet, I was unconsicously singing along while searching for my damn list of “sins.” Thankfully before the “Get yo ass over here ho” line…I found it.

Me: Okay, so here goes…I cuss…and I like it. You know…”darn”, “shoot”, “frickin'” just doesn’t pack the punch that “damn”, “sh#”…

Priest: I GET IT. Go on…

Me: Oh sorry Father…I just get talking and…anyway. I ate all the Reeces Peanut Butter eggs out of my kids’ Easter baskets and blamed my husband. I also colored eggs camouflage for the Easter egg hunt. I think they’re still “hunting.” Sometimes, I fart and blame my husband…or the dogs.

Priest: (I think he stifled a snicker) Go on…

Me: Speaking of my dogs…sometimes, when I’m de-pooping the backyard I fling the terds into my neighbor’s yard. That and the dead mice that wind up in the pool filter. That could be considered fertilizer…right?

Me: The other day, I got so tired of my daughter’s room being a pig sty – honestly…the Kardashians could be living in there and no one would ever know, but…

Priest: Who?

Me: You know Kim? Big butt? Now dating Kanye? Ugh…Hollywood marriages…they never last. Any hoo…I was making a point that sh#…sorry, crap could be living in her room and she’d never find it, so I set an alarm clock to go off and hid it in her room. Drove her crazy! It was great! But kinda mean…

Me: Wow…you guys should get like a couch in here or something. Then I could relax! This is great – no one EVER listens to me like this! I could talk for hours…

Priest: Praise God…no

Me: What Father? Did you say something?

Consequently, he promptly forgave me and asked me to leave.

Amen!