Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Oh, Thank Jesus!


I've found it! I've found the holy grail of our people! 
Ladies, and even gents... I officially give Seduction and Snacks by Tara Sivec my stamp of approval! No. No. No.... not JUST my stamp of approval, but my OMG you MUST pick up this book right the hell right now stamp! If you never read another book again, you MUST read this one!


Also on the list of things you MUST do while reading Seduction And Snacks...


1. Wear a panty-liner, or adult diaper depending on how often you do kegals. You WILL piss yourself!
2. Grab a notebook, pen, and highlighter. You WILL find yourself repeatedly wanting to jot down a slew of the most ass-tastic one-liners you've ever heard.
3. Grab a friend. Trust me.. reading this together is far better than the way I did it, which included me texting my bff every five fucking minutes, with an update or funny quote!
4. Set your alarm clock BEFORE you start reading. Otherwise, you'll find yourself barely able to keep your eyes open at 4am, yet unable to pry your kindle from your cramped fingers and the next thing you know, you're kids have missed the bus on the first fucking day of school.
5. Buy batteries and chocolate. You'll thank me for that later, I PROMISE!!!!

And finally....The single, most important rule of reading Seduction and Snacks...
Share the love! Had a fellow blogger not turned me onto my new bible, I would have missed out on the read of a life-time. Share the word. Post links. Like Tara Sivec on facebook and for God's sake... leave a review, will ya???



Product Description

Claire is a twenty-something, single mom that grudgingly helps her best friend sell sex toys while she attempts to make enough money to start her own business to give her foul-mouthed, but extremely loveable (when he's asleep) toddler a better life.  
When Carter, the one-night-stand from her past that changed her life forever, shows up in her hometown bar without any recollection of her besides her unique chocolate scent, Claire will make it a point that he remembers her this time.  
With Carter's undisguised shock at suddenly finding out he has a four-year-old son and Claire's panic that her stretch marks and slim to none bedroom experience will send the man of her dreams heading for the hills, the pair will do whatever they can to get their happily ever after.
Warning: contains explicit sex, profanity and enough sarcasm to choke a horse.

About the Author

Tara Sivec is a wife, mom, chauffeur, soccer coach, babysitter, short-order cook, genius and the funniest person she's ever met. She lives in Ohio with her husband and two kids. In her spare time she likes to write and make people spit Diet Coke out of their nose. Most of her material comes from real life experiences with family and friends. Lucky for them, the names have been changed to protect the innocent (aka, drunk).






Monday, August 20, 2012

4am Malarkey

Technically, it's 4:09am as I'm typing this. Why am I blogging at such a random time? Well, due to a 'scheduling mishap' I ended up only working half of a shift tonight. I should probably bitch about this, but mostly I just want to celebrate. I have three days off starting tomorrow and I'm pretty geeked about it. I'm tempted to bitch and moan about my current state of employment. However it's all 'illegal' and can get my ass fired so... I have to skip over all that malarkey. Sad, I know. 

So, here I am, now 4:12am sitting at home, in my dirty ass house, drinking ONE beer and blogging about the nonsense that I'm still not sure anybody actually cares to read. Why one beer and not five? Well, because that's all I have and my state has some stupid as fuck law about no alcohol sales after 2am. While I'm sure this law was placed for good reason, I don't fucking care at the moment. I've worked three weekends in a row, third shift. I get off early ONE fucking night, vs getting out several hours late as per usual and I think they should make an exception. Home girl needs to get drunk. Real talk. It's good for my soul and shit. My liver? Nah, but my soul? Shit yes! 

Okay, so bitching about work is out. Bitching about people in my life who do dumb shit and piss me off is out, as I've learned that they apparently read my blog. WTF. Should have never started feeding the goddamn elves! All I ever do besides that lately is sleep (try) and boring day to day shit that you don't want to hear about. I guess I'll have to reach into my bag of tricks and tell you all about the nice neighbor who won't shut the fuck up....

So.. I moved into a new town-house about a month ago. This place is really pretty perfect for me. The only downsides are that I've been a home-owner for so long, and have lived in the country for pretty much ever. Now, I'm in a nice neighborhood, but with that comes neighbors. Dun duh dun!! I can hear car doors opening and closing all the fucking time, causing my dog to flip her shit. She, is also not accustomed to hearing those kind of noises except when we have company. So while I'm peeking out my blinds every five fucking minutes, she's trying in vein to hold in her barks. She really does try not to bark, but it's instinct. Instead, she tries to hold it in and ends up looking like she's dry-heaving. It's unpleasant to watch/hear. Having neighbors also means that for the first time in their lives, my children aren't at liberty to run through the house, jump and down or scream at the top of their lungs any time they want. This has not gone over well for them. It also means that I'm no longer at liberty to yell obscenities at them at the top of MY lungs when they do that shit, for fear of CPS showing up at my door. I've been instead forced to perfect my hushed 'I'm about to beat your fucking ass' voice. You all know the one. It's the voice you use to reprimand your kids while in public. You want to scare the shit out of them, without the rest of the world knowing that you just threatened to hog tie them, and get out the fucking duct tape. Don't judge me, and don't fucking lie to yourself either. Tell my you've never grabbed your kid by the arm in the middle of the grocery store and whispered in their ear threats of violence if they didn't calm the fuck down and shut the fuck up! Perhaps you didn't use those exact words. I don't either... but the intent is the same. We all do it people. 

Back to the neighbor. So she introduced herself to me around THE day I signed my lease. While nice, she A) does not shut the fuck up. B) has nothing to say that I actually want to hear. C) Irritates me for reasons that I can't quite put my finger on. Bitch, I don't fucking care about how many times you loaned your can-opener to the previous renter. Know what else I don't care about? Any fucking thing that you have to say unless it's 'good-day'. 

When I see her out, I try to make a hasty retreat. It never works. EVEN when I was moving in, arms full of heavy shit. She still continued to run her fucking mouth as though she were being paid per-syllable. Did I mention that she 'babysits'? Well, she does. From an outsider perspective, it would seem that she's got a good system going. Her back yard is littered with child paraphernalia. It looks like a damn wonderland out there. The problem? The kids she watches are never outside. Ever. I'm 99% certain that it's all for show, for the unsuspecting parents. What makes it even stranger is that she ONLY babysits for babies and young toddlers. Ya know, the ones who can't fucking talk or attest to God only knows what kind of weird shit goes on inside her place. Maybe I'm jumping to conclusions here, it's entirely possible. But, it's completely within my right to judge strangers based on my own impressions and gut instincts. I'm pretty sure that is an amendment in the constitution. I'll have to check and get back to you. 

No, I don't believe any of these children to be in harms way or anything. If I did, I would have stepped up and done something about it. It's just fucking weird. Considering that I have three kids and do often find myself in need of a close-by sitter for whatever, this could have been the perfect set-up for me. But, it's not... and I'm pissed. Did I mention that she has a son who lives with her? a 19yr old over-weight emo and strange as fuck son? Well, she does. At first I thought he was nice, if not a little awkward. But then I got suspicious. I have this itty-bitty hole in the ceiling above my shower. I've since discovered that it's a dry-wall screw or some shit like that. Prior to my learning this, I was simply convinced that that little fucker had cameras leading into my place or something. What did I do? Smeared it with toothpaste, that's what. Now, I realize I'm just paranoid and overreacting but whatever. I suppose he really never bothered me except for the one time when, while moving, I once again had arms full of a heavy as fuck box. He sat on his porch, asking me random fucking questions while I struggled to take a single step. Thanks for the help, asshole. 

Okay, so all that doesn't sound so bad when I type it out. I guess it's really not. I'm just not used to having neighbors THISCLOSE to me and I'm irritated by pretty much everything so they're easy targets. I still smile politely and all that shit. I guess it could be worse. I just don't understand why I can't live next to some calendar worthy male-model type who can never seem to find a shirt when I'm around. 

Is that so much to ask? No, I don't think so. 

Monday, August 6, 2012

The point's aren't the point. The point is... Wait? What was I saying again?

I guess this can kind of be considered a part two to the previous posting. That being based solely on the fact that it's coming in sequence afterwards. More accurately, not though. I've learned that I shouldn't make promises my ass can't cash. As it turns out, I'm completely incapable of following the guidelines I set for myself. I should probably do some soul searching or bring that up if I ever get into therapy. Fear of commitment or some shit like that. Bipolar? Or just single-white-female who gets bored as hell and loses interest in even what she has to say. IDK. 

Before I go any further, I have an honorable mention to drop. I recently gained a new blog fan. This makes my heart happy for two reasons. First and foremost is because every time somebody tells me I'm awesome, I celebrate. Secondly, this person posted publicly what is possibly one of the top ten greatest fucking things I've ever read. Being that she is a girl after my own heart, a bookie-type friend, AND has a great fucking sense of humor, her respect or admiration gives me down there tingles. Her post was the following:

"All he'd have to do is wave his magic dick wand, and my panties would magically disappear."

I almost died. I have no idea what so ever what context this quote played out in, or where it came from, but I fucking loved it. Seriously. I was having a really, really shitty day and was leading into what was about to be an even MORE shitty night... this was totally the bright spot in my rain cloud. 

Speaking of, ... fuck, what WAS I talking about again? IDK. So, I'm totally a pessimist. Well, I consider myself a realist who just happens to have really bad, awful, fucked up shit happen to her, and I can see it for what it really is. I'm not one of those 'the glass is half full' types. Those types piss me the fuck off. Real talk. I'm also not one of the 'glass is half empty' types. I'm more the type  to completely overlook how MUCH is in the fucking glass, and instead focus on WHAT is in the glass. A while ago, I randomly found one of those clip art thingies that perfectly describes my view on life. I now wish to share with you...



Perhaps you don't find this as amazeballs as I do. If not, well.. fuck you. Why are you even reading my blog? If you're a member of population kick ass.. they you're probably still giggling, saving this image, and sharing it with your homies. It's been MONTHS and I cannot look at this without laughing out loud. Literally. I'm not talking about 'lol' here... I actually open my fucking mouth, and sounds of the giggle variety come out. It's funnier if you read it in the way I do. In my head, the realist is frantically waving his arms, looking around nervously, and says in a high-pitched voice "I think this is piss" ... find it hilarious now? That's what I thought. 

Anyway, that's totally how I approach shit in my day to day life. I feel like I'm letting you guys down on this one, but apparently I'm all tapped out today. I'm just beat down, what with everything being full of piss and all. I'll come back swinging tomorrow. Then, we can revisit the promised bitch fest about my kids being assholes, the laziest, creepiest fucking cable MEN (plural) in history, and the neighbor who I originally thought was nice despite never shutting the fuck up... but I'm now convinced is just all fucked up. Really. 

Peace Out Girl-Scout

Thursday, August 2, 2012

Should Have Never Started Feeding the Goddamn Elves

Another post title that has nothing to do with anything, but is in actuality a line from a favorite movie of mine. If you know that line, you're fucking awesome. Well done.


**Please, take a minute to appreciate the changes that I painstakingly made to my header via the uber-techy program known as Paint. I know, I killed it!

So yeah.... this is THE post. Ya know, the post-apocalyptica one after I dropped the D bomb the other day. If you're reading this, then you're aware that my recent absence has been directly linked to my going through a divorce. Well, can't keep a good dog down (Is that how that saying goes? IDK) And you can't keep a soon to be divorcee from blogging. Take THAT Family court!

Believe it or not, I do have SOME moral standards, so all things divorce related will be omitted. I know, that sucks because let me tell you... I have some doozies. But it is what it is. Also, all of this has taught me one very important message... Should have NEVER told any of my friends or family that I was blogging. I have so much shit to talk! I mean really. I'm considering putting out an anonymous book. Like in that anti-racism movie 'The Help' and just let all the bitches of this town stew on it and speculate who is whom. I'll get back to you on that.

I also wish to take a moment to thank Jesus for spell check. I just tried unsuccessfully to type out anonymous four fucking times and it still was all underlined in red because I can't fucking spell!

Back on topic... yes, I'm in the process of getting divorced. Yes, it sucks. Know what sucks more? MOVING! Ya... that just happened. I totally just skimmed over all the "My marriage failed" woes are me ... in lue of some serious bitching.

So, I got this new apartment. It's pretty bad ass. Well, in the sense that I dont have to mow the fucking grass and my girl Jamie (See Midget Dance Off) lives a few doors down. The down side? It's in a new town, meaning that my kids are switching schools. Okay, not new... more my neck of the woods. The town I had lived in, I married into. No thanks on seeing THAT every damn day the rest of my life. The kids are pretty geeked, but nervous as you could imagine. The other downside is that it's only a three bedroom. This problem is easily rectifiable by finishing the basement, therefore turning it into one major badass mancave/bedroom for the oldest spawn. The problem with that is that I, apparently have some dumb as fuck superwoman complex. This causes me to think that I can do all kinds of shit that I actually cannot. Like oh.. say, seal and paint a fucking basement. Epic. Fail.

Also on my list of shit I thought I could do but can't
- hanging curtains without putting many, many holes in the fucking wall.
- hanging mirrors with 'mirror tape' and expecting them to NOT fall the fuck down, in the middle of the fucking night, during my first fucking night in said apartment.
- lift and/or carry ANYTHING
- put together a goddamn thing without blood oozing from at least one orifice

Like I said, it is what it is. I'm currently all moved in, and getting to know my new place intimately. Know who else is getting to know it intimately? My ten year old kid. Who, by the way I walked in on during 'special time' today. In MY room. Oh. My. Fucking. GOD!

I cannot go any further with that, as the vomiting is just really bad for my laptop. Really.

So ya, in other news... ever want to know who your TRUE friends are? Move! A u-haul full of shit will weed them out quick as fuck! I thought I had it all planned out. My (ex)husband and his father loaded up an entire fucking house full of shit into the u-haul. All I had to do was come up with the man power to unload/assemble it. Oh, and drive the fucking thing. (I paid the extra $27 for the insurance because that shit's HUGE) All that sounds simple right? WRONG!

Let me explain.. first, I had many, many friends of the muscle variety offer to be a nice guy and help me move. While I appreciated that, I said no because divorce or no, having guys moving my couch would have just been an asshole thing to do in front of the ex. *I told you I had some morals* So I instead relied on mostly family, girl friends and their boys, and a few close guys. It was all fine and well until the u-haul was literally full of shit and everyone fucking bailed! Well, mostly everyone. I sent Jamie a message something akin to...

 "Oh my fucking god, Im going to slit my fucking wrists. Everybody fucking canceled on me"

To which she replied something like... "Fuck that. We'll do it our damn selves... just let me put on a bra"

Jamie, if you're reading this, I owe you my next born child. Or, I'll take yours. Whichever you feel is the fair way to play this. And, thanks for blowing your boyfriend, so he'd help. Seriously, please tell Mitch I said thanks, and I hope it was good for him!

I'll fast forward, and with a little extra tiger strength on my side, for which I'll be forever grateful, it all got done.

This is getting lengthy, and I'm getting tired. I'm going to part two, or three this one. Please tune in next week. (I actually have no fucking idea when I'll post the next part... it might be tomorrow for all I know)

**Still to come...
-My kids are assholes
-Install the fucking cable already
-The nice neighbor who doesnt shut the fuck up
-My kids are still assholes, where is the fucking cable man?