*Sorry, I kinda disappeared for a while, but I've been swamped with eating entire wheels of Brie and scream crying into my pillow. But I'm back, and couldn't be more ready to shame my entire family by writing inappropriate things on the world wide web.
Let's begin shall we?
If you know me, you know that I can often be found on the floor covered in wine and Tostitos, but another interesting and wildly shocking tidbit of information about me, is that I have little to zero game when it comes to the fine art of picking up men. WHAT?! THAT'S JUST SHOCKING. GUYS DON'T LIKE CREEPY WOMEN?! Shit.
Back in University, (where I left my dignity and my love for fitness), I discovered that I could land any guy in the bar that I wanted, by luring them in with my "bedroom eyes." Wait, let me explain:
Bedroom Eyes: When a white girl with little to no class, pounds back 8 Mike's Hard Lemonade and hits the bar scene with an abnormal sense of confidence, only to be found in the corner, doing a creepy head tilt and some weird shit with her eyes...AND somehow convinces a guy equally as drunk as her, that taking her to bed, is the best idea he's ever had. Ever. In the history of ideas.
Now, as I enter into spinsterhood, with one good leg, chin hair, and a bad attitude, I've discovered that my "bedroom eyes" no longer work in the fine art of seduction... At least not for me anyway. A few weeks ago at the bar, I had the unfortunate pleasure of catching my reflection during a "bedroom eyes stare down" and I immediately called myself a cab. I had to. Either I left, or the guy I was trying to seduce with my gaze, was gonna call an ambulance or quite possibly the police. To better describe my attempt at bedroom eyes, I'd like to refer you to the blockbuster hit, The Exorcism of Emily Rose. How my face could look like a demonic force was exiting my body AND I was having a seizure at the same time, was beyond me. Since words can't quite paint this picture, below is an eerily exact picture of what my bedroom eyes look like. Attractive.
Since this little episode in the bar, I've been trying to think of new ways to seduce men, and a colleague of mine recommended that I read 50 Shades of Grey, and I was all like, "50 Shades of fuck that." I can't bring myself to read erotic novels. I just can't. I have this irrational fear, that I will develop some creepy, closeted obsession with reading/watching porn and I'd like to salvage any purity I have left. HAHAHAHAAHA. Purity. That was funny.
But seriously though, my addictive personality has led me down many-a-dark road, and I fear that erotic literature is a gateway drug to even more messed up obsessions...such as having sex WITH your car, like this peach below:
I just shuddered.
Well, you know what I always say, if you can't beat'em
you're a horrible disgrace
to your family, join'em. So instead of reading 50 shades of shit, I decided to
write my very own erotic literature book. Now I can't share with you the entire
book, but I can certainly share some excerpts to get your juices flowing. I should
add, that it's loosely based on this whore I know named Conchita, and the other
parts are what life is really like. I've titled this NY Times Best Seller: Conchita's
"Conchita takes off her turtleneck and stands in front of the mirror. Conchita notices that one breast is noticeably bigger than the other. She stares at herself in astonishment. "When the fuck did this happen?" There is no way I'm knockin' boots with Pablo tonight, he can't see my lop sided tits."
Conchita then frantically slips back into her flanel pajamas and walks timidly into the bedroom where Pablo awaits her pantless.
"Pablo I have my period."
"Pablo pulls conchita closer, Conchita shits her pants with nervousness that Pablo will taste the Cool Ranch Doritos, and Bacardi Breezer she just secretly crushed in her bathroom. He softly touches her face, gazes in her eyes. Her heart races, her cooter pulsates.
"Conchita, did you just eat Cool Ranch Doritos?"
"Shit bitch, you is fine."
"The cool breeze from the salty beach air, made Conchita's leg hair curl."
"It was a dark and stormy night. The air was thick and so was Conchita's waistline"
"Pablo scrapes Conchita off the floor and flings her onto her bed to ravage her...The bed collapses, Conchita breaks her collar bone. He calls 911."
"Conchita found out that Pablo eats spiders for fun."
I know what you're thinking....'Can I pre-order this?' No. Not just yet. I have a few more chapters to finish on Conchita's trip to rehab and her obsession with the movie Seabiscuit...oh and I can't forget her third nipple scare.
Well, I've spewed out enough nonsense for one day, I need to work on my jazzercise video for Youtube.
Also don't forget to check out my latest post on Red Lips Long Lashes! I wrote what life was like for me after graduation...yikes. www.redlipslonglashes.com/perspective/so-youve-graduated-now-what Another thing, if you find me mildly amusing AND you like watching the Bachelor and Bachelorette, you can join me each week on Red Lips for my recaps.