52 Weeks Of Photos ~2016~ Week 26

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‘Y’all! It’s so shiny!’ Self-portrait

The theme for last weeks photo was ‘Humorous’.

When I was looking around online for some ideas I found a few images that made me smile. The inspiration for my image comes from the caricatures created by ‘McLendon Photography‘. Check them out if you have a second, so well done and creative. Will put a smile on your face, even if you don’t feel like smiling. 🙂

And here’s a little song that seems like a good fit for the photo.

 

“Type hard, like you mean it!”

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52 Weeks Of Photos ~2016~ Week 25

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‘Dear Lord Baby Jesus..make it STAHP!’ Self-Portrait

The theme for last weeks photo was ‘Sign Language’.

I’m a little overdue with this photo as I struggled with the theme. Sometimes inspiration hits out of nowhere… in this case, it was my Instagram DM’s.

For the love of God, people. Stop sending me DM’s and mail telling me how hot I am, as original as that might be (eye-roll), I’m good. There is no reason that needs to be said in a private message. I’m appreciative that you find me attractive, thank you. Feel free to just leave a comment so that everyone can see it. At least boost my ego publicly like a decent pervert! 😀

I know this sounds petty. It could be worse, right? I mean, you could be sending me dick pics… oh wait… you’re doing that too. Sigh! STAHP!

Why? What is your motivation here?

I have yet to see a dick that makes me want to drop my panties and risk losing my family just to find out who is on the other end of it. I know what you’re thinking..”but I could be the one”.. No! Trust me, you are not the one.  Your dick could shoot out magic rainbows with hundred dollar bill confetti and I still wouldn’t want to…. um, okay…yes, I’d want to see that, but that’s the exception.

If after reading this you still want to send me photos, at least read up on my dick pic requirements. Here is a little something I wrote last year, still relevant today. Enjoy!

Only send photos of your junk if…

junk

 

“Type hard, like you mean it!”

 

52 Weeks Of Photos ~2016~ Week 23

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‘Zen’ Self-Portrait

The theme for this weeks photo is ‘Minimalism’.

I’ve heard that doing yoga, and meditation, can enhance your sex life. Now, I’m not sure if that’s because you become more in tune with yourself, or if it’s because you get into all those sexy poses, either way….it’s worth a try. Let me know if I’m doing it right.

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I am feeling a bit more in tune with myself. For example, I now know that I have zero flexibility.  I also have no doubt that once my hubby sees me in these super sexy poses he will be all over me. Rawr!

I think it’s working.

bow chicka wow wow’….

‘brown chicken brown cow’…

“Type hard, like you mean it”

52 Weeks Of Photos ~2016~ Week 22

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“Shut up and dance with me!” Self-Portrait

The theme for this weeks photo is ‘Sound’.

It’s Friday, so I decided to dance around like a fool in celebration. What about the weekend am I celebrating you ask? Oh, you didn’t ask. That’s okay, because I really don’t celebrate the weekends anyways. It was a lie, all lies!!!

I’m a mom, I don’t get weekends you silly dork!

I do like to dance around the house in the morning when everyone is asleep though. I  celebrate the silence, because silence is golden, like a nice warm golden shower. Um…erm anyways… that got awkward, but hey, speaking of being pee’d on. Don’t do it! Stop it!

No, I really don’t care if you’re into that, unless you are randomly peeing on people that are not into it, that just makes you a douche. Don’t be a douche. Although a douche would be better than pee.

Oh dear, sometimes I should plan out what I’m going to say before I start typing.

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…and no, jelly fish stings are not an exception, just a myth. So stop looking for excuses to pee on people! Geez! :p

If anything, we learned:

I don’t celebrate the weekends.

I don’t want to be pee’d on.

I’d rather be douched?

Only pee on people that consent to it.

Jelly fish stings are not the exception.

Not having a plan, keeps it real!

 

Now come on, SHUT UP AND DANCE with me!

 

“Type hard, like you mean it!”

 

 

 

Leave me alone! The perfect Mother’s Day Gift.

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“Happily Ever After” Self-Portrait with my two youngest.

What do you want for Mother’s Day?

I want to be left alone. Yes, that does sound selfish, and it is… a little bit, but it’s the truth. What I need though…is a day, a day where I’m not needed. A day to myself, to do whatever I want. Even if that means sleeping until noon, not brushing my teeth, and eating cupcakes for dinner. I want to pee without having a conversation through the door, or better yet… without my kids watching me because they have to be in there with me. I want to grab a snack without having to sneak it or share it. I want to watch T.V., and not only watch it, but hear it. I don’t need to be taken out for dinner. That is not relaxing at all.

“Where’s my food?”

“I’m hungry”

“I want what she has.”

“I need to go potty.”

“She’s kicking me.”

“What’s that?”

“Can I have a bite?”

“I’m not hungry.”

Sigh……..

Please…. leave me alone! I love you all, but go!

I feel guilty saying that I want to be left alone, it sounds as if I don’t love my children, which is not the case at all.

For me, Mother’s Day has always been about the kids though. “What can we do that they’d enjoy?” I know they feel good when they make something for me, get me a gift, or take me out.  Which is why I will sit back, smile, and accept everything that comes my way on Mother’s Day like I do every year. Maybe that makes me a good mom. Maybe that makes me an idiot.

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Mother’s Day 2014, because ‘Rainforest Cafe’ is for me. Not!

To all the mom’s out there who make sacrifices day in and day out, you guys rock!

Happy Mother’s Day!

If you know anyone that can relate, please share this post, and give them a hug, or some wine…or Vodka. Yeah, screw the hug, wine and Vodka makes more sense.

“Type hard. Like you mean it!”

 

 

You need to stop watering dead plants.

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~ Fragile ~

Doesn’t matter how beautiful and lovely they once were.

We  have a hard time giving up, or letting  go of things, even when we know they are dead. I think we hold onto that hope that if we just keep adding water, maybe we can bring them back to life, salvage them in some way. Usually getting so caught up in the beauty they once held,  forgetting what caused them to die in the first place. If it’s dead, bury it! Get a new plant, water the hell out of it, but not too much, don’t want it to drown… which let’s face it…. is probably how you killed the first plant. Oh wow, that is not where I wanted to go with this. I’m sure it wasn’t you, that plant was probably a stubborn fuck that needed too much attention, impossible for you to tend to each and every selfish need it had. Stupid asshole plant!

“Type hard. Like you mean it!”

52 Weeks Of Photos ~2016~ Week 14

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Animals in bed! Rwoar! ~ {Self Portrait}

The theme for this weeks photo is ‘night’. I contemplated going outside and taking photos to really capture the true essence of ‘night’, I quickly decided against it because it’s a pain in the ass for me. Getting all my stuff together, finding something to shoot, being alone in the dark. Meh! Not what I enjoy doing. Aside from all that, I go to bed stupid early, 8:30ish…..it’s still sort of light outside when I go. I’m old! That’s why. Shut up! It’s just a matter of time before I start eating my dinner at 4pm. Okay, I may have done that on occasion too.

I wasn’t going to stay up late just to go outside and struggle to find a photo op. I starting thinking about how ‘wild and crazy’ I really am. Going to bed so early, and being too tired to do anything after a certain time. True party animal here! *sarcasm font needed*

That train of thought led me to the above image. I like the contradiction of being animals in bed, but not in the good way. You know I mean sex, right?

When we bought our house 9 years ago we decided to change the four bedroom floor plan and convert it into three bedrooms.  We took two of the rooms, knocked down their walls, and made the Master bedroom….you know, because we weren’t going to have any more kids. Yeah…. well… we decided to have more kids. Hindsight.

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For real!!

Now having four kids and only three bedrooms, guess where the little two kids sleep? In our room, where that other room used to be, only now there is no wall for privacy. Awesome, right? No!

So no, we are not animals in bed! Now…. the bathroom, garage, basement, kitchen, living room, car, and backyard are another story. We are animals there! Rwoar!

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My wonderful husband! I love that dork.

“Type hard, like you mean it! “

 

 

I worry it’s drooling, my vagina.

 

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This is me, trying to look all bad-ass.

This morning started out like most mornings.  I woke up, put on some active wear, and hit the weights. One of my favorite days, leg day. I do legs twice a week.  Since my workout on Tuesday I’ve barely been able to walk. My legs reached that jello stage.

Convincing myself that I’m invincible I carried on with my plan to shape my ass into something that doesn’t look…um…what’s a good word for, “I had three kids, gained a ton of weight, cottage cheesy”? Yeah, that.

I blasted some music, got myself into this apparent ‘beast mode’ that most people claim to be in when they work out, got under the bar, and started doing some split-squats. They are not new to me, I’ve done them plenty of times. We have a love hate relationship, really… they suck, but in a good for you kind of way. I fucking hate them!

I got my left leg done, moved to the right side, and as soon as I started to squat I could feel something tear, pull, cramp, hurt, try to break free from beneath my skin. Okay, I might be exaggerating a little, but it hurt like fucking hell. Enough so that I had to call it quits, skipping the rest of my workout.

My only option at that point was to crawl upstairs from out of my basement and ice it.  I sat down, made myself comfortable, and got the ice under me. The muscle that hurt was near my inner thigh/hamstring/ass. After sitting there for a good amount of time, I got up and noticed that the ice went ahead and numbed my damn vagina. Don’t worry though, it was just the right side. :/ Like a shot of Novocaine to the mouth, I couldn’t feel it. Trust me, I touched it… you know, just to be sure. It’s odd, standing there with only partial feeling in your vagina. Like when your cheek goes numb at the dentist. You start to wonder if you’re drooling. Is my vagina drooling? Is it leaking? Hanging lower on that side? Did I just pee? Sigh…

“Type hard, like you mean it!”

 

 

 

Happy Bunny Day!

Bunnyearslr

 

Just wanted to wish everyone a happy Sunday, whether you celebrate Easter or not.  I haven’t been the best at blogging but wanted to at least spread some cheer.  I’ve been taking a lot of self portraits lately and figured I could at least share some of those if nothing else.  Yes, that’s me.  I’m fucking hot, I know. Hahaha!  Yeah, yeah… I don’t think I’m ugly but I’m really not that over confident either. You’d never know it, but I fake it, I mean my confidence of course.  We know that I would never fake anything else!

My sister-in-law had a few lollipops made for me and I took some photos to show her how much I enjoyed them.  Hope you can get a chuckle out of them too.  They were naughty and delicious, just a couple of my favorite things.

bunnylr

 

“Type hard. Like you mean it!”

Only send photos of your junk if………

junk

If?….. Yes, only if…..

Because guidelines need to be put in place for some of you people out there. Because asking yourself ahead of time, “Does this person want to see my junk?” takes a lot of effort….apparently way more effort than pulling out the camera, uploading the photo, typing in an address and hitting send.

And when I say “junk”……..I’m talking to some of you women too, because no one wants to see this without being warned.

Angry vagina

Okay….I am mostly talking to the men, but that photo above was just too good to not share. That’s what you find when you Google “angry vagina” by the way.

Here are some things that men need to know.

Unless a woman is fantasizing about fucking you, she probably doesn’t want a photo of your dick.

Now brace yourself for this……

Dicks are kinda ugly. Don’t get me wrong, there are some good looking dicks out there, not all dicks are ugly. But nothing is uglier than an unsolicited closeup of your wrinkly dick and hairy balls.

Not cool!

Not cool!

Don’t be that guy. You know the guy I mean, the one that goes, “Yeah….that girl is hot, I bet she would love a picture of my dick.”

No! No we wont! Stop yourself right there! Don’t do it!

If you know me at all then you know that I’m not a prude by any means. I don’t mind seeing tasteful nude photos, that goes for photos of men or women. I don’t even mind watching porn. But sending me a direct message of you holding your junk is a no-no.

So here are the rules, my rules anyway. Only send pictures of your junk if……

1. I ask for them.
2. You ask me if I want them and I say yes.
3. You have awesome abs or that sexy V thing going on. (Hey! I’m not perfect, there are loopholes to every rule. Isn’t there?)
4. I am having an actual dick measuring contest.
5. I mention needing a good laugh.
6. You have an odd growth and need my help identifying it. (I’m not a doctor, but I play one at home)
7. You don’t mind me showing my husband,
8. Or my mother.
9. Or the police.
10. You have awesome abs or that sexy V thing going on.

Yes, I said those two already, but I just want to reiterate that if you have abs and that V thing……then go ahead and send me photos of your junk.

Awesome abs and that sexy V thing.

Awesome abs and that sexy V thing.

Soooooo………. My husband is shaking his head saying “no”, apparently reasons 1,2,3 & 10 are still not good enough reasons to send me photos of your junk……so don’t send them. He ruins everything! Stupid dick!

 

“Type hard. Like you mean it!”

 

 

Vagina, Vagina, Vagina – It’s just a word!

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Unless you work at an OBGYN office I’m pretty sure you don’t say vagina enough during the course of the day. Me? I say vagina all day, everyday. I say it mostly to irritate my 11 year old daughter. Why? Because I’m a jerk like that, that’s why.  Did I mention she hates the word vagina? (hence the me being a jerk part).

See….I’ve been in the process of teaching my toddler that this thing is called a vagina.  Because as a parent, you need to teach your children things and spend time with them every so often so that they think you really care.

I thought about teaching her other names for it, but I think that would really confuse the kid.  Like “wipe your flower”, sounds like you should smell it, or “that’s your pee-pee”– if that’s your “pee-pee” then what do you call the actual pee?  or “that’s your privates”– sounds like it’s that thing we don’t speak of— like Voldemort, Candyman, or how I devoured 10 boxes of Girl Scout cookies on my own over the course of 3 days. So yeah, I think it’s easier to stick with the actual name…..vagina!

Wait….I went off on a tangent there.  Anyway, for some reason my 11 year old thinks that it is completely inappropriate to say vagina, which is strange because she tells me that she looks forward to swearing.  Go figure.  Kids are dumb! Her repulsion to the word and her constant protest, “stop staying that!” is just encouragement for me to say it more, I already told you that I’m a jerk like that. I’m trying to help her get over her disgust with the word vagina and be immune to hearing it. It’s just a word for crying out loud. Right?

During the course of the holidays I had my in-laws over at my home. With the exception of a couple of them, they are far more conservative than I will ever be. By the end of the night however I had everyone saying vagina like it was a common household greeting. It’s stuff like this that makes me feel like I’m winning at life…..pathetic I know. It’s the little things.

I was really making progress with my daughter though, she was starting to see that there really was no big deal with the word vagina.  I mean even her grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles were saying it. But I think my next conversation might have ruined any progress I made with her and I’m pretty sure she lost all respect for me at the same time.

I was in a room with my mother, husband, and my three daughters (my step-daughter was not there):

Me: “Hey! Guess what we all have in common?”
11 year old: “What?”
Me: “We’ve all touched my vagina at one point.”

Aaaannnnnnddd……..that’s where I lost her.

Every once in a while she seems comfortable with me saying vagina, that’s when I take the opportunity to ask her how she feels about the word “penis.”

Muhahahaha……..

It’s a vicious cycle, but I have to entertain myself.

Vagina, Vagina, Vagina! As Dora the Explorer would say, “Say it with me.”

I’ve obviously been watching a lot of Nick Jr. lately. Sigh……

If you could use a good laugh and are curious about what other vagina names there are then just follow the link below for some alternative suggestions. But read all of my shit first….then go there….then come back and read more. Okay? Good. Here you go:

Sloppy list of vagina names (because the list isn’t that neat, not to be confused with sloppy vagina– two totally different things.)

“Type hard. Like you mean it!”

“I want to kick your puppy while I wear a banana-hammock”. Sexting is hard…..Tips for Dummies.

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I once heard that if you want to talk dirty and not sound like a complete idiot, that you should just say what you are doing at the time. So if you are kissing someone, you would say, “I love the way your lips taste,” etc. This sounds easier said than done. I mean you really could go a hundred different directions with this if you just say what you are thinking or doing.

“I feel your cold sore.”

“I love the smell of garlic.”

“I’m about to put my lips on yours and try not to think about you spitting in my mouth.”

Even with a simple thing like someone reaching into your pants, if you say the wrong thing the mood can quickly turn.

“Say hello to my little friend.” Men should not say this……neither should a woman, if a lady says this, you might want to look for an Adams apple.

Talking dirty is difficult enough, but sexting adds an entirely new element. But at least it gives you time to plan out what you want to say, so take your time. I figured out a way to sext and not be entirely awkward about it. I follow the same concept as talking dirty, but you text about your day instead, with a little creative editing of course.

Here’s are some helpful editing tips and sext suggestions.

“I’m on my knees thinking of you.”

Edited from.

“I’m on my knees thinking of you while I clean the piss off the toilet.”

 

“I’m so wet!”

Edited from.

“I’m so wet because I’m busy washing a sink full of dishes.”

 

“My nipples are hard.”

Edited from.

“My nipples are hard because it’s fucking freezing outside and you forgot to take out the trash.”

 

“Tea-bagging sounds like a good idea.”

Edited from.

“Tea-bagging sounds like a good idea, those warm bags will feel good on my puffy eye, seeing how I didn’t sleep…again…because you fucking snore”

 

“I’m going to suck you off.”

Edited from.

“I’m going to suck you off the couch with this vacuum, damn popcorn! dropped while watching the game.”

And remember that auto-correct is a bitch, so double check your sext before you hit send.

“I want to kick your puppy” <—- is an actual text I received from my husband. I was like, “What the fuck does that mean?”. It should have read, “I want to lick your pussy.”  Anyway, it turned out to be pretty funny thanks to a combination of not paying attention and auto-correct*.  My husband has been kicking the puppy ever since, I’m now a firm believer in animal abuse.

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My husband never did say anything about a banana-hammock like my title implies though, but I just love that word. Banana-hammock, banana-hammock, banana-hammock.

Anyways….. If all else fails, send a picture of your boobies, men like boobies.

Then again, if you’ve been doing chores all day. You deserve a full body massage, or an uninterrupted nap, and some alone time…. after an orgasm from having your puppy kicked of course. Maybe a new husband, one that’s less of a slob and not such and inconsiderate fuck.

*Before you go typing “lick your pussy” into your iPhone to see if that would auto-correct. My hubby sent that message to me on an old cell phone using T9word, before iPhones–remember those days?….way back when.

“Type hard. Like you mean it!”

Par-ent-hood: a sexually transmitted disease

 

parenthood

Definition: Par-ent-hood  noun

A sexually transmitted disease caused by the inability to think straight during throes of passion.  An infection of sorts, causing lifelong trauma to the human psyche.

While there is no immediate cure, studies have found that Parenthood will often come to a halt after years of pain and suffering, finally ending with ones own sweet, sweet death.  The journey to this recovery is a long drawn out process, one to which you will experience the following symptoms:

Bleeding from ears

Constant ringing sounds

Heightened sensitivity to clutter

Claustrophobia

Lack of personal space

Loss of breathe

Bouts of fury and rage

Heart palpitations

Elevated stress levels

Migraine headaches

Hair loss

Bleeding tongue

Monetary limitations

While some symptoms are more severe than others, be cautioned.  Moments of euphoria will occur from time to time, giving the illusion and false pretense that contracting the disease was well worth it.  One might notice moments of euphoria in the lives of others with this disease and be led to believe that Parenthood is in fact not as severe as it sounds.  Don’t be blinded by the hype.  For every euphoric moment, a double dose of what the fuck will immediately follow.

Please be informed and make educated decisions to prevent contracting this life debilitating disease.  Precautions that one could take to help keep Parenthood at bay, include but are not limited to:

Abstinence

Removal of libido

Masturbation as the only form of pleasure

Double bagging it

Suicide

Examples:

Sally was an active member of society until she contracted Parenthood and died a miserable death.

You seem so happy not being able to do everything you wanted to do in life, way to control your Parenthood!

PARENTHOOD:

Some days I am faced with two choices : Laugh or Cry, today I chose laugh.  I truly do love being a mother.  Believe it or not, my kids were all planned pregnancies.  That’s right, I did this to myself (well, my hubby helped), but I do question why some days.  Not in a serious “why” way, but more of a joking, ha ha, I’m losing my fucking mind kind of way.

Being a mom was my big goal, my aspiration in life.  Some people might think that’s crazy, let’s face it, just about any woman can get knocked up.  I didn’t dream of going to college and working my way up some corporate ladder though.  I had dreams of being home with kids.  Of course the home in my dreams had unicorn riding fairies that would come in and keep things neat and tidy, while the little leprechauns, wait, not leprechauns- those fuckers creep me out.  While little trolls, wizards, magicians, elves filled the house with laughter and joy.  That’s the type of stupid shit you dream of before you have kids.  I know now that it’s not fairies and elves, but more like a tutu wearing, PMS suffering Satan on a mission to reek havoc by creating loud constant shrieking.  Like the “most annoying sound in the world” from ‘Dumb and Dumber’, only more annoying and less funny.  Even with all that said, I do love being a mom.  Parenthood is one of the best things to have happened in my life.  Without it, I would probably be somewhere sipping Mimosas poolside while mute men rub me down and feed me grapes, who the fuck wants that? or I could have ended up in a dead end job, doing the same thing day in and day out, wishing for more out of life.  That would more likely have been the case.  Either way– I love my job!  I love my job! I love my job!  If you say it enough, you start to believe it.

“Type hard. Like you mean it!”

My “Princess” Washed a Pan Today. With Her Own Two Hands!

SPONGELOWRES

My “Princess” is 11 years old and one would think that washing a pan at that age would be an easy task. Watching my daughter’s expression at the mere mention of having to actually wash a pan to make herself breakfast was funny enough, but then she went on to do what seemed like a dramatic reading of the bible.  I’m not sure, but there were a lot of Why me’s and Oh My God’s getting tossed around, followed by tears and praying for me to help.  I felt like I was in church, and it was just as painful to sit through.

I don’t ask a lot of my kids and maybe this is part of the problem.  No…..I’m sure this is part of the problem. I’m working on it.  That and some gene which clearly got passed down from my Ex-husband (her father).dig

Princess: “Can I make an egg for breakfast?”

Worst Mother Ever!: “Yes, don’t burn the house down.”

Princess: “The pans are in the sink.”

Worst Mother Ever!: “Thanks for letting me know.”

Princess: “You need to wash them.”

Worst Mother Ever!: Brows raised with an expression that says, “I dare you to say that again.” “Excuse me?”

Princess: “What am I supposed to do?”

Worst Mother Ever!: “Seriously? You’re 11, you don’t know what you should do?”

Princess: “I’m not washing a pan.”

Worst Mother Ever!: “It will be hard to cook an egg without one.”

Now at this point in the conversation, eyes start rolling– her’s and mine.  While she opens the cabinet that we store the pans in and continues to pull out a pot, you know……the kind you boil water in…..for pasta and shit.

Princess: “I’ll just use this then.”

Worst Mother Ever!: “No.”

Princess: “Errrrrrr. Oh my god, you are being so mean.”

The pan gets put away and she turns the water on. I’m shocked because I figure at this point she’s just going to pour cereal instead, but she must really want this fucking egg.  Between huffs and puffs, sighs and errrrs.

Princess: “This is so gross, I don’t want to touch the sponge. This one has stuff on it. We need a new sponge. Why me?”

For the record, the sponge is about a week old. See above photo. I watch in pure amusement as my daughter grabs the sponge with her thumb and forefinger in a dainty effort to pick it up while grumbling the entire time. It’s hilarious. Cruel to watch? No.  I always help my kids do everything, and that’s the problem.

My kid has “Princess Syndrome” and believes that everything should be done for her.

I would have helped if the conversation didn’t start with an expectation that I would do it. My kid knows how to cook an egg.  But wash a dish? Well that’s just disgusting and servant’s work.

Princess: “I’m never washing dishes when I get older.”

Worst Mother Ever!: “I guess I won’t be eating at your place.”

Princess: “I’m going to make my husband wash them!”

Worst Mother Ever!: “I’m sure you’ll make someone very miserable.”

Princess: “Stop it!”

Worst Mother Ever!:  Calmly  “Stop acting like a brat, it’s a fucking pan.  Grab the sponge, put soap and water on it.  Stop touching it like you are going to catch the plague and scrub.” Yes, I swear.

Followed by a loud sigh, she washes the pan, with her own two hands! Un-fucking-believable! It’s a modern day miracle people.

Princess: “What do I do now?” Holding the wet pan.

Worst Mother Ever!: “If you were wet, what would you use to get the water off?”

Princess: “Errrrrrrrr” Reaches for towel.

At this point she carries on while still grunting, turns on the stove and gets the egg in the pan.  I leave the room, because I don’t want to go to jail. Moments later the sound of drawers opening and closing, getting louder and louder with each slam.

Princess: “I CAN’T FIND A SPATULA.”

Me to self: Deep breath, deep breath. Eye Roll.

Worst Mother Ever!: “Look in the sink.”

Princess: “No! No! I’m not washing that too!”

Worst Mother Ever!: ——–

A few more minutes pass and she enters the room with an egg sandwich. I never did hear her wash anything else or turn the water on.

Worst Mother Ever!: “Did you find a spatula?”

Princess: “No, I used a spoon.”

I decide to just let it go, what’s done is done.

Worst Mother Ever!: Being calm and compassionate, I explain why I didn’t help. “I know you are frustrated, I would have helped you if you just asked nicely, instead of expecting me to do it.”

Princess: Eye-roll “It’s your job to take care of me and do the dishes.”

I’m currently writing from jail. :/

“Type hard! Like you mean it!”

NEWS FLASH ~ Guys Like Blowjobs ~ Who Knew?

suck4

Can you believe it? Guys, men, and people with a penis, they all like getting their dicks sucked. I shit you not. Really. The first time I heard this I was shocked, SHOCKED!

Say it isn’t so. Dicks in mouths….WHAT?

You are a guy…..with a dick….and you want it sucked? No Fucking Way?

Seriously guys— EVERYONE ALREADY FUCKING KNOWS THIS!!!

So stop hinting, asking, and making comments about wanting it sucked. Do you really think that this is news? Some big secret? That everyone is an idiot and can’t figure this out on their own?

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Trust me. Your girlfriend, wife, boyfriend, partner, all know that you want your dick sucked. If we want to suck it, we will.

No need for a reminder or hint. If your dick isn’t being sucked, it’s not because your partner doesn’t know you like it. It’s because they don’t feel like sucking it.

I know that has to be hard to swallow.  It does sucks.  These jokes really blow.  Moving on……

Just so you know, we would never have to stop and think:

”Hmmmm…I wonder if he would like his dick sucked?”

“I want to suck it, but what if he’s not in the mood?”

“He only mentioned it 20 times today, so he must not be that serious about me sucking it.”

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Our thoughts are more like:

"Did he shower?"

“Did he shower?”

“What about me? Hello…I have needs too.”

“That thing was in my vagina earlier today, I’m not putting it in my mouth now.”

If your partner does decide to suck your dick due to your relentless, less than subtle hints, they might be thinking:

“Are you almost done, I’m fucking drooling all over the place?”

“If I stop to catch my breath, you’ll get distracted and it will be like starting from the beginning.”

“This is mostly for you, so just cum already.”

“I can’t believe it’s only been 5 minutes, feels like an hour.”

“I’m not going to swallow, so you better warn me.”

”Maybe if I moan more, that will speed things along.”

“Can’t you hear me gagging? WTF!”

“Where is the towel?”

“I’ll just rub your balls and that should do it.”

“Sooo…are you going to pull this out and jerk off on me, or should I grab it?”

“I’m not touching your ass!”

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I could go on an on.

Please consider all of this before you repeatedly inform your obviously ignorant partner that you enjoy having your dick sucked.

My husband never asks me to go down on him. You know why? Because he knows, that I know, that I can suck his dick whenever I want to and he would be good with it. Surprise, surprise!

When I suck dick, it’s because I want to, because I’m into it, and because I want to make him come undone. That is a turn on!

But ask and you shall not receive. When it’s done out of obligation it will not be as good for you.

When your partner willingly gets down on their knees, the thoughts are more like these:

“Yum!”

“I love it when he looks at me like that.”

“I’m going to make him finish.”

“You can cum anywhere you want.”

“I’m awesome.” (that’s what I think anyway. LOL)

To quote Forrest Gump – “That’s all I have to say about that.”

Off to go suck dick, because I’m awesome. Maybe. I don’t know, it’s late. There is always tomorrow, or the day after. Meh… I’m selfish, sooooo… some other time. I’ll just wait for my husband to ask.

“Type hard! Like you mean it.”