Sunday, February 28, 2010

High Heels Are Not My Best Friend

"Honey, I need to get back to the car and ditch these high heels.  They are killing me.", I moaned to Honey Lips.

"I knew it.  You can't wear high heels.", Honey Lips chided.

"It's not like I don't try at all. I used to stand on my feet with high heels on for more than 8 hours a day.", I retaliated.  

"Well you're getting old then.", Honey Lips teased.

And then added, "And you're looking so sexy tonight.  I wanna give it to you real good tonight."

Pointing to my feet, I said, "Let's go.  Else I'll fall flat on my face."

With me leaning on him, we made our way to the car where, with a sigh of relief, I exchanged the high heels for a fancy schmancy pair of flat-soled shoes.  I always carry a spare when I go out.  Just in case you know.  

How in the hell do you do it?  I was under the illusion for so many years that my weight was the cause.  I'm slightly heavy in the belly and thigh areas.  But then I see those heavy T mommas strutting on murderous heels and enjoying every goddamn minute of it.  

Secretly, I wish, when I see a portly woman on stilettos, that she would trip!  I'm mean like that.  Lick my balls.  

But karma is kicking me in the ass heels.  I'm considering packing away my stilettos and come-fuck-me shoes to gather dust in some dark corner of my closet.  When I go out, I look forward to having a good time and not to wince every time I take a step.  High heels kill.  I don't care what you say.  

And God bless his heart.  HL didn't relent one inch and kept on complimenting me even when I was a few inches shorter than when I left home.  Back to the party, we stayed for another hour, dancing our feet off.  

Once home, the last words coming out of his mouth was, "You were looking gor-jyor-geous tonight!" and nodded off.

He made it up to me this morning.  


Friday, February 26, 2010

My Slutty Ovaries

Yes you read right.

My baby-making eggs are sluts.

Just like street hookers.

Always teasing, flirting, showing off to the soldiers but they won't take any home! Their freedom seemingly matters most.  The word on the street is if you do take one of the Johns back to the rooster, a few weeks later the whole district gets invaded.  By a human-like creature who, for nine whole months, sometimes less or more if they're out of luck,  captures and imprisons them.  The Slutty Eggs don't like God because, on several occasions, they've heard her (God is a woman.  She speaks like one.) planning the attack.  On some days, they can even hear Zeus bringing in the soldiers.  Zeus is good.  Because Zeus always tells his troopers to 'go through the front and exit through the drain.  It's much safer this way.  And soldiers! Stay away from the Lady Eggs!'

Now the Lady Eggs are the nemesis of the Slutty Eggs.  The Lady Eggs are on a God's mission - seduce the Johns and take them home to mama.  They always lurk in corners and spy on the Slutty Eggs.  The Lady Eggs almost succeeded twice in their strategy to trick the tricksters before the Slutty Eggs.

However, the Lady Eggs are weak in numbers and couldn't keep the captured 'prisoner' for long on both times.  They are planning a revenge though and the Slutties found out.  They also found out that God is contemplating of wiping out the whole district and starts afresh with another generation - The Good Eggs.

And that angered the Lady Eggs.  They feel like God betrayed them.  So they are on a strike - Stop the attacks altogether!

God is worried. :(

Thursday, February 25, 2010

If I Were

If I were a month, I’d be October

If I were a day of the week, I’d be Friday

If I were a time of day, I’d be sunrise

If I were a planet, I’d be Earth

If I were a sea animal, I’d be dolphin

If I were a direction, I’d be North

If I were a piece of furniture, I’d be a queen-size bed

If I were a liquid, I’d be coconut water or Hennessy

If I were a gemstone, I’d be Topaz

If I were a tree, I’d be a peach tree

If I were a tool, I’d be a screwdriver

If I were a flower, I’d be a dark red rose

If I were a kind of weather, I’d be sunshine with a light breeze

If I were a musical instrument, I’d be a piano

If I were a color, I’d be black

If I were an emotion, I’d be love

If I were a fruit, I’d be a peach

If I were a sound, I’d be baby's laughs

If I were an element, I’d be air

If I were a car, I’d be either a Lexus or BMW (Do not ask me the model 'cause I'm friggin' clueless)

If I were a food, I’d be Sweet and Sour King Prawns

If I were a place, I’d be France

If I were a material, I’d be silk

If I were a taste, I’d be spicy

If I were a scent, I’d be Calvin Klein for men

If I were an object, I’d be a pen

If I were a body part, I’d be the eyes

If I were a facial expression, I’d be a pout

If I were a song, I’d be Chasing Pavements by Adele

If I were a pair of shoes, I’d be a pair of red Louboutins platform shoes

If you feel like having one of your own 'If I were', please link back to the lovely Juliana from A Blonde Walks In A Blog.  I stole it from her! ;p

For Bitter or For Worse

One of my cherished dreams came true today but it is 10 years late.  When it no longer matters...When I've moved on...When I'm happy...again...

Ain't life great? **insert a snicker right here please**

Yep...just great...!

My Daytime Fantasy Was Brusquely Interrupted

I'm in my late twenties and yes I still look at young boys! College boys of legal-age.  Boys who know what to do with a vagina or even know how she looks like, been inside one.  In short, mature, good-looking boys.

I woke up early this morning because of a crazy, half-senile lady.  Then I had to go and check on someone else.  Nothing sexual.  Just business.  I don't cheat on Honey Lips.  Not physically at least. (What?!) Anyimmovingonway, I was looking through the window out on the porch when I saw this cool dude in his college uniform (undergrad student) walking with this hey-look-at-me-i'm-so-hot-swagger and oh! boy he was hot.

Of course I'm staring and he wasn't aware of my ogling session.  He was listening to his iPod and looking straight ahead.  He couldn't see me from where he was.  At this time in the morning, there's not much traffic or people walking about besides some rowdy school kids proudly demonstrating how well their parents lack in parenting skills.  I're not like that.

Despite the age-gap between Hot Boy and me being less and no greater than 10 years, I felt like a sex-starved cougar who's ready to pounce at any given minute when the most unexpected thing happened.

He started digging his nose, looked at the yucky boogerice and flicked it!  In public.  I know how important it is to have your nose uncluttered of booger but doing it in a public place? No fuck-me way!  That's a huge turn-off in my can-only-look-at-them book.  Any book for that matter.  If he were a 5 year-old I would understand but an almost grown-up youth who's eaten a vaggie before (it was written all over his face!)?

My daytime fantasy came to abrupt end right there and then.

And I flicked the curtain close and left.  The End.

What are your turn-offs?

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

God and Dexter Will Be The Death Of Me

I woke up with my neck in pain, the muscles protesting like old hags.  Honey Lips decided to squeeze me tightly and  slapped me twice, playfully, on my left cheek.  That pretty much set the pattern for the day.

Fast-forward to when we made up and I'm sitting on his lap.  

And he says, "I don't like it when you're pissed off.  You look ugly when you're angry."

Apparently I'm not one of those women who looks sexy with an angry face or my eyes don't twinkle.  I'll stop reading Mills & Boon! Damn...

(Hey! Don't judge me because I read Mills & Boon...those books taught me a lot - how to play hard to get, falling for rich old men are okay, fake tears always work, how to read men's eyes, - wait you don't expect me to tell you EVERYTHING I learn from M&B right?)

Me: "You got more to lose than I do when I'm pissed."

HL: "Just remember I can make you disappear if you mess with me."

Me: "Your conscience will eat you alive."

HL: "Not if you deserve to die."

Me: "No one has the right to choose when I die except GOD!"

HL: "Isn't that my name? You call me GOD everytime.  Like last night..."

Me: "Uh..."

HL: "I'll bury you alive somewhere or chop you into pieces and throw them in the ocean!"

We are big fans of Dexter! I'm thinking maybe we should dedicate more TV time watching Tool Academy!

Me: "Ah you'll get all Dexter on my ass?"

HL: "Yes I'll Dexterize you!"

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Movie Re-Runs And Ice Cream

As per Honey Lips (the husband will be referred to as Honey Lips because he got it like that!), watching action movies repeatedly is a good hobby because then you notice things you never saw the first time.  Apparently the major movie channels, like HBO, Showtime, Star Movies, agree with him. 

I don't understand why they don't have other channels to play the re-runs like in the UK? Last Sunday Hannah Montana was on early in the morning and then again in the evening.  If it's not Hannah Montana then it's some other movie which has been played a gazillion times before.  Millions of films are produced yearly and still they limit the viewer's choice.  Very irritating. 

So now you all giant movie channels, inject some excitement in the TV schedule, will you?  Especially during the week-ends?  You can have the re-runs in the week-days late at night or something.  Do something for the real desperate housewives.  'Cause desperate I am.  I don't want to get sucked in on by the internet.  Unless I get paid to get sucked.  (Take your mind out of the gutter will you? Seesh...)  By the way are there people out there who get paid to surf the net?  That'd be awesome.

It's time for me to go raid the kitchen for some lunch.  Before Honey Lips gets back to hand me my dessert!  Yayyyy...

Oh! Stop it...It's only ice cream...Snickers bitch...ha!

Monday, February 22, 2010

Where I Get Spammed

Since I'm the new kid on the block I thought of signing up on social networks to spread the word about my new hobby. After all that's what the media gurus are saying. I need to basically network by promoting my blog through different social web sites. So I signed up for 20SB - they haven't approved my profile yet, and Twitterer Social Network on Ning.

This morning, while going through my mail, I came across this:

(Click on the image to enlarge)

What the hell? Is this the first of many to hit my inbox? Don't people read before they comment?  If you don't understand English then it's better to stick to your native language no?  Is that a woman or a man? Because seriously, I'm confused!

And honestly, I'm quasi-pedantic.  Not only your grammar sucks but you do too! 

Sunday, February 21, 2010

I want to act, I laugh too much, He thinks I can't do it

Husband is in the shower and I shout out to him,

"I want to become an actress".

Actually I was watching a movie where this middle-aged divorceé goes back to college because she wants to become a teacher and rebuilds her life in sorts. And I'm like how hard could it be? Acting I mean. Plus the perks!

"What? You want to become an actress?", he repeated just as he's toweling himself dry.

Me: "Yes I do want to act."

Him: "You can't act..."

Me: "Well I'll lose weight and then become an actress."

Him: "It's not a question of size. You laugh too much. You can't act."

I crack up and then he says, "Whereas I now can become an actor!"

Lips Sealed

Nothing beats sex in the morning.

I'm not saying another word!

Saturday, February 20, 2010


Last November I ordered some Avon products via my cousin - she's an Avon rep. I totally forgot about it until today! I haven't received any of them yet! And I already paid...

Bad, bad cousin. I need to call her up.

Friday, February 19, 2010

My Friday Night Is Ruined

A recent conversation between my husband and I:

Me: "Are you taking me out tonight?"

Him: "Of course!"

Me: "Around what time because I need to do my hair?"

Him: "I'll let you know. You'll have ample time to do your hair."

Me: shrugs

Clock strikes 8 p.m.

Called him up to find out what's going on...

Him: "Hey!"

Me: "So what's going on?"

Him: "Nothing much. Helping out X. You can start doing your hair in the next half an hour. I'll call you back."

Me: "Okay."

An hour later , my hair is done. Waiting on his call. 1 hour, 1.5 phone calls.

I buzz him.

Me: "What's really going on?"

Him: "X left so I'm all alone and need to be here. Wait for Y to come then I'll come pick you up. Don't worry. Gimme another 10 minutes."

Half an hour later, I'm writing this post and still no update from him.

I'm pissed. Rightly so. Wouldn't you be?

A Cliched First Post


Often, I've been told that I have a mercurial temperament.

For years, it startled me. Because I'm not moody. At least I didn't think so.

And then I got married.

Then came the painful admission that I indeed have a temperament. He brings out the worst as well as the best in me.

The sole intent of this blog is to rant about married life and life in general.

But that doesn't mean that I do not love him. I do. Very much.

Love is weird and yet beautiful.

Stay tuned for more...