Drunk Wine & Sleepin on the Job

We generally have friends over on Saturday nights. Not because we don't dig going out, because we do. But going out all the time does tend to get old, plus you have to worry about the PO-PO pullin your ass over in the middle of the night.

Of course, I'm a spoiled, lucky girl. I have a designated driver at all times and I dig it. Regardless of that, it's nice just to stay in, cook a smorgassboard of tasty good stuff and drink hot toddies or beer or wine or Jack....

Well, on tap for the past weekend's buffet was pork tenderloin, rosemary potatoes, steamed snow peas and a variety of other crap.

I must say, I've never cooked a tenderloin before and I rocked the balls out of it.
Baked it sloooooow in the oven, double wrapped in foil filled with every herb you can think of. After being on slow bake for 3 hours, I jerked that badboy out of the foil and slung it on the grill... G-R-U-B!!

Everybody ate way too damn much.

I, of course, was no exception. Quite the contrary. I started drinkin whilst cooking. The flavor of the day was Meridian Chardonnay, mighty good.


I asked Big T to open me the first bottle and it was on. Between me and Taucha, we polished off close to three bottles. A little much.

I paced myself, like a professional New Orleans drinker. Sipping all night long. It's hard to tell how much wine one has consumed when one's glass never quite gets empty before somebody happens by to freshen it.

So, it's 1:00am, and everybody is leaving. I had been giving Big T the eye and making obscene gestures toward him all night. REOW... come here big daddy.

He was sitting on the couch in the love den, when I crawled up in his lap and made close up obscene gestures at him before departing with my clothes and heading toward the bed. I knew it was a matter of 1.8 seconds before he'd be following me that way.

Woooo! I was feeling my oats. I was gonna tear his ass up. I was gonna make him scream my name and write bad checks. I was gonna make him beg for mercy.
Let the makin out and major league cannoooodlin begin!



I kiss my way down into a desireable spot. Somehow, don't ask me how... I passed out. His goodies right in front of me and I pass out. Of course at first, he thought I was thinking or taking a breather....

He taps me on the head. "Baby, are you ok? If you're gonna go to sleep, release that and get on a pillow."

"I'm not asleep. Swear I'm not." As I sit up and leave a drool puddle on his belly. "Ok, so I might have been asleep."




"That's ok, baby. Go to sleep."

So I did.

Well, I woke up to him staring at me. "Gotta hang over?"

My head was spinnin, "Hell ya. I'm dehydrated and my head's spinnin."

"Why don't you go back to sleep?" He picked. "You do remember falling asleep last night, right?"

All day long, kids, I had to hear him slip in little comments about my inability to handle my alcohol and still be sexually fucntional. I mean, granted, it was all in fun, but how embarrassing is that?

"Sorry, baby. I swear I'll never drink again." Rolling my eyes. "Gimme some aspirin."

"Yah. Yah." He gets me aspirin, "You know you got yours and you were done, ready to go to sleep. Sometimes I think our roles in this marriage are jacked the hell up."

"I know, huh? I spit, burp, and fart better than you." Smiling at him like the cat that ate the canary.

Pick on me again some more.

Hot Toddies, Christmas Trees & Nekkid Bell Ringin

I swear to all that is Holy... I'm trying my bestest to get into the holiday spirit. It just ain't me. But I'll not sit here and spew a bunch of Bah Humbug and tinkle on everybody else's happy happy ho-ho-ho.

Quite the contrary. In my efforts to pull the Grinch out of my ass, I have found that a nice alcolhic beverage can be very beneficial. My drink of choice? Ahhh, a nice cup of fresh brewed double shot o' espresso combined neatly with a shot of Bailey's Irish Creme. Yes, it is tasty. Mmmm, mmmm, mmmmmm.

So, one cup of cheer at a time, I have managed to begin my holiday-ing with relatively little pain and suffering.

I slung up two Christmas trees this year. One in the living room where everyone hangs out and the other in the Den Of Love downstairs.

Wanna see? I know you do... even if you don't... here it is in all it's blinged out glory!! This is the silver & white tree. This sucker glows by the light of the fire even with the twinkle lights not plugged up.


Let's sing...
"Silver balls..... Silver balllsssss... it's Christmas time in the Lair"

This is the wooden tree. Tastfully decorated thanks to JoAnn's craft emporium. Everything on it is made of wood. We like it. Eco-safe, tree parts that will be used for years to come. Poor thing still needs something on top, but I've yet to find me a wooden angel or star or santa...


Up close with my fave ornaments.... The sappy but sexy LOVE BELL... When I get lucky, I run upstairs in all my nekkid glory and ring that bad boy... (Scary thought, huh?)



Now just because I have my own forest of Christmas trees doesn't mean that this tree or this tree are safe.

I made a promise to myself that I would go steal them and leave ransom notes for each tree if either tree owner turns their respective back for more than 2 minutes.


Happy Holidays, boys and girls.

Asshat of the Day: Timberland

I am the type of person who requires some sort of white noise in the background at all times. The news on while I'm cooking, the stereo on while I'm scrubbing the toilet, or even just the radio on while I'm driving.

I was transporting my 16-year-old daughter to school today when Timberland's, "The Way I Are" came piping through the speakers. Have you ever listened to the words of this song? It's a duet about a scrub and some skanky chick's acceptance of his scrubiness.

I would like to take a moment to address Timberland and clear the air about what is acceptable, and what is not.

It goes a little somethin' like this:

*Verse 1* (Timerland)
I ain't got no money
I ain't got no car to take you on a date
I can't even buy you flowers
But together we'll be the perfect soulmates
Talk to me girl

Ok, first, if you have no money and no car, what are you gonna do? Are you gonna walk to my house with the intentions of gettin' a little lovin'? And trust me, even if you were lucky enough to hitch a ride with a homey, even if you hit the bell with flowers in your hand, you still ain't gettin none. And to even consider that we might be soulmates is blasphemy. Soulmates are connected. I gots a job, I gots a ride. Accept your destiny, pal, walkin and beatin off.


*Bridge* (The chick)
Oh, baby, it's alright now, you ain't gotta flaunt for me
If we go there, you can still touch my love, it's free
We can work without the perks just you and me
Thug it out 'til we get it right

Now, I'm no gold-digger by any means. But, if the boy ain't got a job, money, or car, what hell would he have to flaunt in the first place? And to think she's gonna consider "going there" with him... for free... without the perks? What perks? Massage oil? Happy Jack Rabbit? Sweet Jesus. I am going out on a limb here... she's got to be very horny and/or very desperate to reproduce.

Let's skip her part from here on out. It's repetition of the previous desparation and her forgiveness of his slackeristic nature. Let us explore the remaining 2 verses of this mockery of man-li-ness.

*Verse 2*
I ain't got no Visa
I ain't got no Red American Express
We can't go nowhere exotic
It don't matter 'cause I'm the one that love you best
Talk to me girl

I wouldn't care much that there is no plastic, so long as he has a J-O-B that results in some sort of cash flow. It's nice if a man has the money to give birthday and Christmas presents that aren't from a Cracker Jack box along with small tokens of his affection through-out the year.
No exotic trips? It's mandatory to go somewhere to have sex, other than ones own bedroom, at least occassionally. A trip to the Keys. A trip to Vegas. Sex is good in Vegas. But, still he spouts that he's the one she loves best. Again, most likely her poor self image. Get therapy.

*Verse 3* (The finale)
Baby girl, I don't got a huge ol' house I rent a room in a house
Listen baby girl, I ain't got a motorboat but I can float ya boat
So listen baby girl, once you get a dose of D.O.E. you gon' want some mo'
So listen baby girl, when I make it I want you back, want you back, yeah

He rents a room. Nice. A room in a house where other people live. Which means either the home owners are going to hear the headboard bangin' and the naughty sounds coming from the room or we'll only be gettin busy in my house. Uh. No.
No boat floating from you until you get a job, a car, flowers, some select pieces of jewelery.

F*&k You Like An Animal

Dear Lord.

The things I hear come out of Miss A's (my teenage daughter) domocile.

My house was infested with her and her little teenage friends last night.

So, I'm painting last night in the hallway between my bedroom and hers when I hear, "Oh my God, he's raping her!"

Being somewhat alarmed that they were watching something questionable on the boob-tube, I put down my paint roller and wander in there to find out who's raping who.

As it turns out, it was her latest acquisition of animal friend. Rats.

Not long ago, we lost our dear bearded lizzard to a firefly.

Well, she didn't waste any time finding a new pet.

Actually, she got one, her boyfriend got one, her friend Jesse got one, her friend Cody got one, and Aaron got one.

They were supposed to reside at Josh's house.

But, Monday night, here come the teenagers with this huge tank of rodent friends.

Not to mention that Amanda's rat just gave birth to 9 babies, that will be full grown soon enough.

I've already demanded that they be sold, released away from the house or taken back to Josh's dad's pad.

Anyhoo...

Turns out that one of the boy rats was horny as hell and he was chasing this girl rat around and around and around the cage.

Apparently he got lucky for a split second and caught up with her.

Which explained who was raping who.

Other things I heard come out of that room last night whilst rolling paint on the walls:

- Damn, if that was me, I'd have done given up, lit me a cigarrette and counted my losses. (In reponse to the chase for ass)

- Well, those two ate him because he had a big package and they were sick of it. (In response to why the one albino rat was missing).

Hottie of the Day: Jeffrey Donovan

"When spies get fired, they don't get a letter from human resources. They get BURNED... "

Now I'm not so sure about getting burned, but Jeffrey Donovan as Michael on BURN NOTICE give me hot sweats. I'm honestly not sure what it is about dearest Jeffrey that does it for me. Maybe its that smile. Maybe it's his insatiable wit. Maybe it's his handling of Fiona (romantic interest on the show). Maybe it's the fact that he is shirtless a lot of the time...


Whatever it is, he DOES do it for me.

Here's to you Jeffrey. You make me weak in the knees, my friend.

Seven Deadly Sins: LUST

In the 6th century, Pope Gregory the Great named the seven deadly as follows: Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Vengeance, Envy, and Pride.

Lust, as defined at Dictionary.com, is an intense sexual desire or appetite, or an uncontrolled or illicit sexual desire or craving.I'm human.

I am admittedly full of lustful thoughts. I can't help it. God made me a catty creature. If I see somebody totally hot, male or female, I automatically think about how hot they are and become somewhat fervent.

Adultery? Cheating? Same thing… all of it, lumped into lust. Kissing a girl while dirty dancing? Yes. Lust. Dreaming about being in a hot tub with a gorgeous man during a thunderstorm? Yes. Lust.

I'm not saying I'd go out and have an affair or wicked one-night-stand with any hottie individual that came my way, no, at least not any more. What I am saying is that due to unsatisfying situations in my past, I have indulged in certain extra-curricular activities and enjoyed them immensely.

As a human creature, one has desires that might not be quenched without lust coming into play. Simply spelled out, if you’re not getting what you want and need at home, you’re going to go out and find it.

People can deny their corrupt human nature all they want. But it’s there inside all of us. It just depends on if one has the overwhelming urge to act on it.

Look at our politicians. Look at our Holy leaders. They all claim to be best friends with Jesus, then turn around and condemn one another shaking hands with the devil. As it turns out they are all just as guilty as the other. Come on, kids.

Brother Newt condemned Fast Willie and Monica for doing the deed. (Well kind of). Jimmy Swaggart was banging a prostitute while he condemned Jim Baker, who was having an affair behind his wife’s back.

So, I've decided that I'm going to embrace my human nature for what it is.

Venus & Mars? More Like Uranus

My friend Jane has been having serious relationship issues lately. Almost to the point that her head is turning all the way around like that possessed chick in The Exorcist.

After much thought (and actual research) on why relationships fail, I’ve come to the conclusion that the sister just needs to settle down, grow up and learn to deal with real life problems as they come at her.

Jane spent several days in a highly agitated state. Being around her as much as I am, I started to be concerned that something might be wrong in her relationship with the fella she’s supposed to marry soon. So, being a good friend, I asked.

She started explaining that for the most part, her relationship with Pete was awesome. They have alot in common (love of music, riding around with no real destination, talking about silly stuff, family values… you get the picture). She then went on to tell me that even though she knows he loves her and he does so much to show it by spoiling her rotten and giving her everything she could want, that there is something really important missing. Intimacy.

At first it appeared that she was troubled by the decrease in or lack of sex in their relationship. But after listening to her and thinking about what she had been saying, it was clear to me that it was more than her being horny and him ignoring it. There was something more to it.

In a relationship, there has to be a balance in every aspect of the relationship otherwise the whole world may seem like its coming to an end. Everything just has to be n’sync.

The emotional needs of both partners must be met by showing compassion and allowing the other to see into the heart of the partner.

The social needs of both partners must be met by doing things together. Whether taking a road trip, going out with friends or sitting on the front porch having social hour.

The intellectual needs must be met by discussions that run deep. As long as the two can discuss THEIR personal views together it doesn’t matter what the discussion is about. Communication is key in keeping each other interested.

Now, all of the above needs were being met for Jane. But the one need that threw the balance in Jane’s world out of sync was closing in for a kill in the relationship. So, she was naturally falling apart at the seams trying to figure out what to do. She couldn’t figure out why Pete was pushing her away when it came to her physical (sexual) needs.

I asked her if it was just lack of sex. As it turns out she just needs that intimate closeness. The hand on her leg when they are in the car. Getting naked and snuggling close with his arms wrapped around her, without the expectation of sex.

My suggestion to Jane was… talk about it. Make sure you both know what the problem(s) is/are. Many times there is a reason for said problem. Sometimes it takes some tears. Sometimes we have to say what we feel, even if it hurts.

Fact is, it takes work to maintain a relationship. It takes attention to detail in every aspect of that relationship to keep it going strong. If you can’t talk about what might be bothering you and you can’t talk it out, there might just be a bigger problem.

As for my friend Jane, she went to Pete and made sure that the lines of communication were wide open. Hopefully, they can talk about whatever they have going on and get things on track.

The Trooper & The Porn Star

Say, did you hear the one about the Tennessee State Trooper and the Porn Star??? Sounds like the start of a really bad joke, huh? Actually, it’s funnier than a room full of Michael Jackson impersonators whipping each other with wet spaghetti noodles, but it’s no joke.

James Randy Moss, of the Tennessee Highway Patrol, had an anonymous complaint filed against him by a cupie doll named Justis Richert in Nashville, TN.

We here in beautiful KnoxVegas should be proud to boast that Justis, a.k.a. Barbie Cummings *snicker*, is a Knoxvillian. Let’s pause and give Barbie some well-deserved kudos. She makes our community proud by being a big-time porn star who makes her living by flying back and forth to the City of Angels to shoot her fair share of scenes.

I would now like to paraphrase for you how the skinny goes down:

Occifer Perv-A-Lot (OP): Hey sexy, can I see your license & registration?

[Queue Saxaphone Music]

Local Porn Queen (LPQ): Why yes occifer. Here’s my license and registration.

OP: Well, these seems in order. (Hiking up pants, Barney style) Miss Richert, do you have any drugs on you or in your ride?

LPQ: Why hell yes I do. Want some? They are my happy pills, they make me happy and extremely horny. Oh, by the way, I’m a porn star. I can rock your world, baby.

OP: Realllllly now? You aren’t just saying that to get my manhood roaring and to get me into some serious trouble later?

LQP: Oh, no, occifer. I wouldn’t do that in a million and one years. Don’t you have a lappytop in your crusie-woosie. I can show you my work. By the way, my stage name is Barbie Cummings. *snicker*

OP: Well, first, Miss Cummings *snicker*, you’ll need to give me those pills so I can fix your problem. (OP scatters dim pills in da bushes) Now lets take a little stroll on back to my cruiser and we’ll see just how good you really are. How’s that sound?

LQP: Well, okay. I think that was really neat what you did.

(Getting into the cruiser and turning on lappy)

OP: Wow, girl. Look at you go. Say, what’ll it take for a nasty, middle aged, perv with a badge to get up next to a sweet thang like you?

LQP: Jeez, I don’t know. Maybe if you tape it with your cruiser camera so I can remember you.

OP: Fine by me.

Some various acts of a sexual nature were captured by Occifer DipShit as he rolled tape. You know Barbie might have fear of performing action without the lights and cameras.

To make a long story even longer, this guy gives her a copy of the tape…. Where she….you guessed it… POSTED IT ON HER WEBSITE FOR ONE AND ALL TO SEE….

I wonder if this would actually be one of the lamest things I’ve heard?