Archive for the ‘Random Schmandom’ Category

Speechless Saturday (aka “Wow”)…

November 15th, 2008

I totally stole this from Crystal, by the way. But wow, I don’t think Google Shared would have done this justice! Hahaha, I have to pee I am laughing so hard. And if anyone dares say I am making fun of fat people, I’ll cut you!

Amused Kisses,
Me

Posted in Bloggy Goodness, Random Schmandom | Comments (23)

Why I’m Not A “Costume Kind Of Girl”…

October 29th, 2008

Everybody keeps asking me what I’m going to be for Halloween.  I usually sarcastically reply, “Hilary Carnes, that’s what I’ll be”.  Inevitably the next question is, “No ass, I mean what costume are you going to wear to that Halloween party?”.

The answer is: I’m not wearing a costume to the party.  I mean, not a *real* costume.  I’m going to dress in black (one slutty top that shows my tits included), wear red devil ears and a little devil tail, sport some sick ass Halloween jewelry (like a huge jeweled spider necklace and earrings), wear too much makeup and uh…call it a day.  Although it seems like I’m taking the easy way out and/or like I am a total party pooper who doesn’t give a fuck about Halloween, that’s not even the case!  I totally love Halloween and am completely getting into the spirit despite my lack of creativity and costume savvy.

Why?  Why am I not wearing a costume this year?  Let me tell you why…

1.)  I am a chubbalubba ding dong.  Wait, before you get all “oh yay, there she goes with the self loathing again‘, just hold your little horses.  The thing about being a voluptuous woman is that I like to be cute and sexy, yet I also like to stay classy.  Have you seen these fucking costumes this year?  As Britt said previously, everything is fucking “slutty” or “sexy” and while I applaud the effort to skankify everyone in America, no thanks.  I mean, I’d have been perfectly willing to wear a cute or classy costume had I the chance to really invest myself (which you’ll find out later is a farce, because I never invest in this shit) but those are few and far between.  Hell, I even did a search to find a plus sized Minnie Mouse Costume and all I got was “sexy” Minnie Mouse.  In fact, pretty much every Disney character was that way!  The other problem I have with this is the same as my white stretch pants theory…just cause they make it in your size, does not mean you should be wearing it.  I was absolutely floored when I saw that the costume stage left was actually for plus sized women.  I’m sorry but NOBODY wants to see my ass jiggling around in that.  Just…no.

2.)  I have to admit that there were a few cute costumes that I could have maybe sorta kinda gotten into, but they were expensive, geez.  If I’d not changed my mind about going to Florida, then not going, then going again about 45.8 times, I may have had the time to save up for this TWO HUNDRED DOLLAR fucking costume!  Right now I am sure you are asking…but Hil, why not MAKE yourself a costume?  First of all, yeah…I don’t really do well with anything creative that isn’t directly associated to the computer or my writing.  Secondly, well…there is the third reason below.

3.)  The biggest reason I’m not keen on costumes is because I was scarred for life as a child.  My mother was very creative and never ever let us have store bought costumes.  She called them “plastic and tacky”.  So, each year she and my step dad would pretty much not even ask us what we wanted to be, but rather decide what they thought would be a good costume idea and that is what we were stuck with.  There were some cute ones (like my home made Alice in Wonderland one) but all either of us really wanted was to be like everyone else and have that year’s popular costume.  In hindsight, being different is cool and all that but as a child, you just want to blend in.  Anyway, remember how I said that there were some cute costumes (like two sentences ago)?   Yeah well, there were hideous ones as well.  To this day, I am traumatized by pigs.  You see, my Mom decided that she was going to be a mamma pig and my sister and I were going to be her piglets.  Wait..it gets worse.  So she made the costumes by getting some white long johns and dyeing them pink, attaching pink pipe cleaner to the but for a little tail, making little piggie noses and piggie ears and then…wait for it…attaching six baby bottle nipples to the front of the costume to uh make…nipples.  Dude, and this was even back in the day of those hideous flimsy beige-ish bottle nipples.  To say that it was *slightly* embarrassing would be like saying that McCain is only *slightly* old.

So there you have it!  I’m totally down for Halloween and love love love the spooky decorations, cute little costumes on everyone else and of course welcome the chance to get my drink on!  But you probably won’t see me dressed up for realsies anytime soon!  So, how about you?  Do you like to dress up?  Hate it?  Have any favorite costumes?  Any costumes that you sincerely regret?  Dish it!

Monster Mash Kisses,
Me

Posted in Halloween, Random Schmandom | Comments (41)

Stop The World And Melt Me, Sweet Cheeks…

October 16th, 2008

In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t normally talk about sex on my blog.  Most people find religion and politics at the top of their “taboo” lists, but not this freakshow.  Nope, I’d rather bore you with a meme about my cat than become extremely open and honest about who I am as a sexual being.  So why am I writing this post?  Well, first of all, I like to step outside of my comfort bubble now and again, especially when my thoughts feel stale.  Secondly, I’ve been in a contemplative state about women and sex every since Crys and Stephanie made their posts on the same subject.  I’m trying to answer my own question of “why don’t I ever want to bring up my sexuality on my blog?” and so far I am coming up with nothing.

It’s not as if I’m a prudish person.  I’ve had phone sex, chat sex, and more than my share of real live sex.  I’ve had sex with men, sex with women and that one threesome that scarred me for life.  I like dirty talk as long as it’s not lame and cheesy. I’m not afraid to use some of the more colorful words to describe genitalia. I’m adventurous in bed and dare I say a bit kinky?  No no, not hideous kinky or anything fetishist but you know…nasty.  I think that you can be in love with someone and still fuck.  I also think that being in love and actually “making love” is better but you know, sometimes the animals have to come out and play!  I love porn and even though I don’t have a mega-collection or anything, I watch it now and then.  I think that views on porn should be openly discussed and agreed upon in a relationship and also that they can be a fun little tool to spice up the bedroom now and again.  I’m almost 37 years old and am definitely at my sexual peak.  Being at your sexual peak makes you totally fucking horny all of the time.  So yes, that is where I am in my life…in a sexual frenzy.  That being said, I think masturbation is healthy and practice it on a full-time basis.  I’m not embarrassed by the fact that I masturbate and will admit to it freely rather than hide it.  However, I’ve never owned a dildo and would like to try one someday.  I like oral sex - both giving and receiving.  I’ve never done anal because I don’t really like pain with my pleasure.  I’ll have sex with the lights on OR off.  I’ll have sex in places other than my bed.  In fact, I really *did* once get busy in a Burger King bathroom.  I love people who are sexually open and honest, especially when they tell me their dirty little secrets but I also respect people that need to keep it all locked up inside.  Just because I’m a freak on a leash doesn’t mean I don’t get why you’re not.

Maybe there is a small part of me that is still ashamed to put that all out there for the world to see?  Eh, I don’t think so…I mean, I’ve never had a puritanical view on sex in my entire life!  Maybe I’ve read and unsubscribed from way too many blogs because all the authors ever did was talk about sex?  I mean, it gets to be too much.  The most likely answer to this question is that no matter how fast and loose I am with my own sexuality, it is still a very intimate thing.  If we’re sitting in a cafe, annoying the other patrons by talking over our sexual adventures, well that’s one thing.  You’re there, you’ve asked and you really want to be talking about this.  I guess I feel like posting about it here is sort of forcing myself on you in a very boisterous way.  Maybe I’ll make you uncomfortable.  I know I shouldn’t care because this is MY blog but when it comes down to it, I like having some tact.  And even though I’d never want to admit it, maybe there is still a part of me that can hear my grandmother saying that “a nice girl never talks about sex”.  Pshhht, whatever…like my bio says:  I’ve got a dirty mouth but I’m still a nice girl.

And uh, I sure as hell didn’t get any answers at all writing this but hey, at least I wrote about something that makes me uncomfortable so there’s that.  Although, God help me if my father ever finds this blog.  Seriously.

Shyly Turning Away Kisses,
Me

Posted in Hilly's Life 2008, Love, Random Schmandom, Sexual Stuff | Comments (29)

Don’t You Wish Your Girlfriend Was Chatty Like Me?

September 3rd, 2008

Bloggers forgive me…it has been two days since my last confession post.  Wait, it’s only been a couple of days?  Huh…it feels like a week!  In any case, I haven’t been writing because my thoughts have been all over the place, discombobulated at best.  My mind is like this overflowing bathtub that is now spilling water on to the floor.  So what I *need* to do is bend over, clean up the mess, then make a totally random bullet-y type post and just get over my anal need for flowing continuity (and redundancy).   So here goes nothing…

Displaced: Earlier today I brought up the fact that I am a political fish out of water living here in Orange County (or “The OC” as the kids like to say).  I’m not sure of the exact statistics but I think that I now live in the most Republican county in California.  Hell, I don’t even know if there *is* another red county in this state.  Back when I lived in Northern California, I could throw out a snarky remark or well thought out diatribe regarding the Republicans and their beliefs and people would just nod.  Sometimes they’d clap.  Rarely, they’d kiss me.  But now that I live in the People’s Republic of Irvine (which, btw, is totally what started me on the PRB word), I have to watch what I say around most people.  It’s hard to be a completely liberal girl trapped around erm…well, I’ll be nice and just say “people who do not in any way, shape or form share my political beliefs”.

Moving along to sports now, I hate the Lakers with a fiery passion.  You see, I was born and raised in Sacramento and if you know anything about basketball rivalry, you know that Kings fans and Lakers fans just do not mix.  Plus…purple and gold?  Ew, no thanks.

Also?  The beautiful people?  Yeah, I am not one of them.  Most people in South Orange County are tan, blond, skinny and beautifully done.  That’s not me by any means.  I am a voluptuous redhead who could not care less about the size of someone else’s wedding ring (or the diamond part, actually).  I also do not talk about my handbags by brand, nor my shoes.  You see, I say things like “I’m using my seatbelt purse today and wearing these cute black shoes!”.  They say things like “I’m carrying my Prada and wearing my Jimmy’s”.  Blech.

Fashion Plates: Boy, I’m on Twitter rewind again right now, but whatever.  So, our FedEx woman came into the office today and as she was leaving I noticed that she was wearing a banana clip in her hair.  While I felt the immediate need to make fun of her, I also remembered my secret longing that those damned things would come back in style…or at least a modified version of them.  Look, my hair is naturally wavy and the longer it gets, the harder it is to maintain.  Banana clips were always the best way to keep my hair both out of my face and looking cute.  Alas, it is not meant to be.  I’d rather not be a victim of a fashion faux-pas just because I PPH banana clips.  Anyway, that whole incident got me thinking about clothes that I hate to wear or would never ever ever be caught dead in.  You ready?

Shoes/Socks: I loathe wearing socks and shoes.  I grew up in California and we’re the home of the flip flops, sandals, mules and slides.  I mean, down here where I live, there is never any need for cute boots or any other kind of shoe that requires that much hosiery.  I actually do have a couple of pair of Skecher’s loafers and Anarchic mary janes that I wear without socks or nylons.  I just bleh…hate the feeling.  I was telling Shiny earlier that it feels like I have trapped feet.  He was telling me shortly thereafter that he thinks I need psychological help.

Fanny Packs: Just, no.  So I was reading some of the South Beach message boards the other day and people were talking about how hard it is to keep cold snacks when they are going hiking for the day or what have you.  My initial thought was…”insulated fanny pack!”.  Of course, I had to practice ten minutes of self-flagellation then genuflect before Michael Kors just for the mere thought of it.  I mean sure, they are handy but hell no on the fashion tip, people.  I know some of my readers probably have them and please don’t get defensive or think I am putting you down.  It’s just…you’ll never ever ever ever ever see me carrying one.  Ever.

Skinny Jeans: Did I mention that I’m fat?  I love skinny jeans on skinny girls, even half and half girls.  However, I am not pouring my ass into tight jeans to even look fatter.  I will stick with straight legged goodness or boot cut jeans.  Call me a faux-pas.

Life’s A Beach: A week ago I started the South Beach diet, as you all probably know and have heard more times that you probably ever fucking wanted to.  I just want to say that I love this way of eating and as of today have lost 10 freaking pounds!!!!!!  I cannot even begin to tell you how addicted I must have been to sugar.  I feel great every day now…full of life, energy, positive thoughts and I actually feel good about myself and the foods I am putting into my body.  It’s been a long time since I had a vegetable with every meal and didn’t immediately try to shove a handful of Twizzlers in my mouth when things got rough.  I owe it all to Foo, who told me about it without giving me the hard sell.  You see, she’s been on it longer than I have so she’s my mentor or sponsor.  The trick is that she doesn’t even know it, heh.  But seriously, round of applause for her having lost 14.5 pounds!!!  Anyway, it’s just nice to feel good about who I am.  My jeans are looser and yanno, even though duh, I am still fat, I feel sexier and cuter because I am doing something about it.  It’s all about esteem of the self, baby.

Hot Wax Kisses,
Me

Posted in Hilly's Life 2008, Random Schmandom, Uncategorized | Comments (25)

Adore Your Inner Whore…

August 29th, 2008

Yesterday a friend and I were talking about the Hot Blogger Calendar thingie and both of us agreed that if we never have to see another person whore themselves out for votes on their blogs, we’d be thrilled.  Don’t get me wrong here…I’m not judging you if you are one of the many that have banners, ads, crotchlessness, or have made promises you don’t intend to keep just to win this thing.  That’s YOUR bag even if it certainly isn’t mine.  It’s not that I think it’s stupid or anything like that either…I just don’t care about it.  Especially not enough to read about it day in and day out.

Before you call me a snarky bitch, just wait.  I actually have a point.

The thing about me not wanting to read about this damned calendar or other things that may be making my nerves all crazy is the fact that I don’t have to.  I can simply hit my F1 button to take me to my next feed and move right along.  There is no call for me to make a snarky statement on your blog nor is there any reason for me to be some fucking drama whore that makes you feel bad about yourself because you dare care about your hotness factor.  It all boils down to my life philosophy.

Live and let live.

I get so irritated when people attack others for doing things that they actually think are radical badical, just because the other person thinks it is the suck.  In my world, this often comes in the form of judgment about which diet I am on at any given time.  Recently, I decided to go on the South Beach Diet as a result of talking to Foo about how she’s been doing on it, as well as hearing from my sister’s boyfriend that it’s a pretty good way to lose weight.  After also reading books and making an informed decision, I decided to try it.  It’s funny too because the topic fell into my lap almost exactly right after I decided that I really needed to go on a sugar detox and cut the refined ones out of my life.  Anyway, someone who shall remain nameless gave me a heaping spoonful of their hoity shit that apparently doesn’t stink by telling me that I am a fool for doing anything other than Weight Watchers.  This person then continued on to yap and yap and yap, almost to the point that they were making fun of me for being fat.  The statement “you’d still be thinner if you had just stayed on Weight Watchers, so you basically did this to yourself” was uttered.  I believe my last email back to this person said, “don’t ever fucking email me again”.

Yeah, sometimes I can be a sensitive and bitchy.

The thing about this girl though is that she lost 140 pounds about five years ago and has managed to keep off between 80-100 of it, depending on the “tragedies” going on in her life.  I’d normally not be so flippant about tragedies but seriously, she got a bad hair cut and put on 15 pounds.  Oh wait, is that me being Judy McJudgerpants?  Hrm…anyway, she is the kind of person that brings up her weight loss in every conversation even if the convos have absolutely no relation to anything close to sorta matching the weight loss subject.  And what’s even worse is that she bursts out with her janky ass tourettes statement of “well I lost 100 pounds so I know suffering” and when no one fawns all over her, she acts all nonchalant.  “Phew”, she says, “I sure am glad they let that subject drop quickly without making too big of a deal about my accomplishment.  You know how I hate to be the center of attention”.

Clearly, bitch.

It’s one thing to be a whore and admit it.  *That* I can take and live with when I see others do it because hell, at least they are being themselves and are being honest.  And uh, I have no idea why I am saying “they” instead of “we” cause I’m not innocent when it comes to the whoredom scale either.  Anyway, if you are going to make blanket statements that basically say, “me me me” as you tug on someones pant leg, then fucking own up to it later.  Don’t act coy and pretend that you never wanted people to clap for you when they don’t.  That makes you even more sad and pathetic, really.

Uh, what was that I said?  Oh right, live and let live.  I forgot.

So, in summation, to wrap this up the best way I can, I need to tell you something.  You need to get your asses over to Snackie TeeVee and subscribe or sign up to be contributors.  I’m so awesome and so is my teevee site…go now now now!  If you do, I will take off my bra, run around making you all cupcakes and um, make a banner that I put up here every day for a week!  Yanno, or not.

Winky Cunt Kisses,
Me

Posted in Hilly's Life 2008, Random Schmandom, Snackie Snark | Comments (34)

Home Of The Ten Dollar Lap Dance…

August 19th, 2008

I’m not sure how many people actually know that Shawn and I got married in Las Vegas.  No, no…not by Elvis or some other cheesy mother fucker.  We had a real wedding with all the bells and whistles.  It just happened to be in Vegas, one of our favorite vacations spots (as most of you *do* know).  There’s sort of an infamous story that goes along with the night before our wedding and yes, it has something to do with strippers…sorta.  You see, a bunch of Shawn’s friends were cool enough to fly to Vegas for our wedding and as a result of that, Shawn’s bachelor party.  When my girlfriends and I bid them all adieu, they were talking about “going to the orphanage” and how they’d need ones to give “to the starving girls”.  I remember thinking that I wish *I* was going to the strip club too because the night we had planned was all about yawnaliciousness.  No seriously, we went to dinner, I lost a nail, we bought me a tacky press-on nail, we gambled a little, drank in my room and then I hit the hay.  I remember tossing and turning as each loud hotel patron stumbled by our suite with something to very important to drunkenly scream.  I’d love to blame the fitful night on those doucheswizzles but realistically, I was just nervous.  I had almost frenzied myself into manic bride state when Shawn finally came back to our room at 3am.

“Shawn”, I said, “Where the fuck have you been?  We have to be up early to get our license.”
“We went to the orphanage and it got late. Why are you still awake?”
“I dunno, I guess I am nervous or whatever. I can’t sleep”
“Okay well I am gonna go shower. I smell like booze, smoke and women“.

Aaaaand then the shit hit the fan…rapidly.  We joke about it now, but I just don’t think you come to bed at o’dark thirty in the morning the night before your wedding and announce that you need to wash the smell of cheap cologne and pussy off of your clothes, even if it IS true.  Hell, I am not even one of those women who throws hissies about strip clubs in general.  Like everything else, a strip club in moderation is probably fun.  Not like I know (however Mister Sexypants said he may take me when I visit Portland!). It’s just that…well, that was probably the wrong way for him to word it at the time.  But hey, at least I have a funny story to tell whenever I am in a pinch!

So…fast forward to yesterday after I picked up Shawn from the airport.  He’d been visiting Indiana for ten days, both to see his family and work/hang out at GenCon.  Also?  His birthday was smack dab in the middle of the high holy geek festivities so uh, they all went a little wackadoodle for sure.  Anyhizzle, we decided to go eat lunch at El Torito and catch up, talk, blah blah.  After sitting down, getting much needed agua, ordering my crispy tacos, and asking Shawn how GenCon was, this gets thrown at me…

“So Hil, I want to sort of show you a picture but I am not sure how it will be received.  I don’t know how you will take it.”
“Sigh. Is it a picture of you and your ex kissing or something?”
“No! She wasn’t even there! What would make you think that?”
“Well, that is the only thing I would take out of context and/or ‘receive’ in a tempestuous manner.”
“No, okay so before we start, Darth* bet a hundred dollars…”
“Wait, what? Did you french kiss a dude?”
“No! Why would you think that?”
“Again with the overkill on the caveats.”
“No see…Darth paid…oh let me show you the picture.”
“Ew, is that your ass? No, wait it’s not. Is that Darth’s ass? Your face is drawn on Darth’s ass?”
“No, well see…we went to strip club and Darth paid a stripper one hundred dollars to let him draw my face on her ass with a Sharpie. You know, as a birthday joke.”
“Here’s my main concern, Shawn. THAT IS A STRIPPER’S ASS? I mean, don’t strippers have better asses than that?”
“That’s how I thought you’d react!”

Yeah, clearly. I mean, that is probably how he hoped I’d react, anyway. You see the picture (and there is a larger version here, if you actually want to see how it looks like Shawn has a zit on his forehead…eeeewwww!), so I don’t know if I need to extrapolate any more on the fine offerings of Indiana’s strip club circuit. From what I hear, the strippers there are like, well I’ll be kind and call them “skankalicious”. I’m sort of wondering if their strip clubs are inside of WalMart but hey, there’s no need for me to be mean. And yes yes, I know that I have a wholly imperfect body so don’t think I’m being Judgey McHaterwhore…that is not it at all! I just want to pay for a fantasy that’s actually yanno, worth my money. But what can you hope for at “the home of the ten dollar lap dance” anyway?

Besides the fact that this story made me chuckle greatly, an important discovery was made and a lesson was learned.  Shawn admitted to me today that all of this time that we’ve been married, he thought I was one of “those girls” who hates strip clubs and thinks men who go there are pigs and cheaters.  After picking my fork up off of the floor and subsequently my jaw, I asked him if he’d been high the whole time we were married.  It’s funny how one incident (smelling like perfumed pussy) can cloud someone’s vision when it comes to the generality of things.  Just because that incident bothered me doesn’t mean that all strippy substance makes me cringe.  In fact, I’m the girl that loves porn, strip clubs (well maybe I do), phone sex, dirty flirting and all other sexually healthy things.  Which reminds me, I need to get to that sex post.  Gah, anyway…the lesson here is..fuck it, no lesson, just a story about skanky strippers.

Bambi LaRue Kisses,
Me

*Obviously a fake name.


Posted in Hilly's Story Time, Random Schmandom | Comments (47)

Oh Mister Sandman, Bring Me A Dream…

August 13th, 2008

I totally stole this idea from the very lovely and amusing Crys, who stole it from the equally awesome Steph. The idea is to list my top ten fantasy celebrity-ish dream dates.  I don’t sit around looking at Vanity Fair or worrying about celebrities much, so this actually took me two days to complete, heh.  However, I felt that with my Blogiversary coming up on Sunday coupled with my horrific mood as of late, this would be a fun way to let off some steam.  Also, can I just say that I’ve always known that I sort of have a “type” when it comes to men I am attracted to in the non-fantasy world but I thought my tastes in celebrities would be wayyyy more diverse than they actually are.  I mean seriously, is it just me or do at least half of these dudes have the exact same “look”?  Yeah, that’s what I thought too.  Anyway, let’s get to the getting, shall we?

HILLY’S TOP TEN FANTASY DATES/HUSBANDS/BOY TOYS

10.   Ewan McGregor (but only Moulin Rouge Ewan)
Great, he’s also Obi-Wan Kenobi.  I don’t care about that.  While I think Ewan is a fantastic actor in everything he does, the only time he makes my heart go pitter patter is when I watch him play the poet Christian on the big screen.  Also, I am breaking the rules right off the bat with a video of him because well…this song makes me swoony all over the place!

9. Jason Momoa
I don’t know crap-all about Jason Momoa in real life.   I know he plays Ronon Dex on Stargate Atlantis and I know that my thing for him is purely sexual.

8.  Ed Quinn
I have had a crush on Ed Quinn for a very long time, but there’s a reason for that.  Remember how I told you all that I was once engaged before when I was in my early 20’s?  Yeah well, Ed Quinn looks almost exactly like that guy so yanno…it may just be nostalgia.

7.   Paul Rudd
Who doesn’t love this funny funny guy?   I love the twinkle in his eye when he smiles.   He’s the kind of guy you have a short term, casual yet totally fun fling with.

6. Michael Bublé
He can fly me to the moon any old time he wants to, uh huhhhh. It’s one thing to be devilishly handsome in a traditional sort of way, but add his wonderful singing to the mix? I’m a little verkempt. I may need some smelling salts and a mint julep.

5. Julian McMahon
I’ve had a crush on Julian for YEARS, ever since he played Cole on Charmed. I think part of his allure now is that his charcter on Nip/Tuck, Christian Troy, is such a freaking bad boy that uh, it kind of turns me on. Although from what I understand, he’s a pretty nice guy in real life.

4. Tim Daly
I’ve been in crush with Tim Daly ever since Wings. I love the fact that he is so real. Besides, he fulfills my codependent needs because I have to feel sorry for him every time he gets on a show that’s soon canceled. You know, it happens often too.

3. Jason Segel
Jason is not traditionally handsome…at all.  He’s very cute though. I am just so smitten with his personality. Don’t get me wrong, I am not saying that he is ugly by any means. You know, Jason is the one you marry or date forever and ever.

2. David Boreanaz
Someone once asked me if I like my David from the Buffy, Angel or Bones era. My answer? Yes.  Look, I don’t care which show you stick this man in, just stick him somewhere so that I can drool over his day and night.

1.  Ryan Reynolds
As if there was any other choice here. Not only is this man too fucking sexy for words, he’s also sarcastically witty and that turns me on more than almost anything else. Besides, look at him. Those eyes, that smile, that body…mmmm, Ryan.

Okay check check, men with spiky dark hair and a winning sense of humor seem to be my downfall, I’m afraid.  Yanno, in fantasy land, of course.

Humpday Hottitude Kisses,
Me

Posted in Random Schmandom, The Sexy | Comments (43)

Of Meat, Murder, and Militant Feminists…

July 31st, 2008

Holy Crap!  Has it actually been three whole days since my last blog post?  I feel like I should genuflect.  Of course, I am not one of those people who has actually vowed to post each and every day, even though it may seem like it at times.  I’ve generally always *wanted* to write something every day so this was a weird trek for me, especially since I’ve *been* at my computer every damned day.  I guess I’ve just had nothing worth saying.  Erm, wait a minute…did I just say that?  Me?  In any case, since I’ve not yet really been able to get my thoughts together on the post I really want to write (about sex and my views on it), I’ll just drop “bits of random” your  way to satiate your desperate hunger for my voice.  Oh, you don’t desperately hunger for my words?  Can we just pretend?  I thought so…

Dead Silence

I’ve recently rediscovered one of my phobias.  I’ve always prided myself on having one “thing” that scares the piss out of me.  Also?  That one thing is something that not a lot of people know about because I hide it so well.  Yes, my friends…I have an elevator phobia.  In fact, the last time Karl visited, we were all crammed in this service elevator on the Queen Mary and I cried because I felt so claustrophobic when the doors wouldn’t open.  But anyway, that is neither here no there.  My “bad ass bitch” status is going to be revoked soon because…well, I am also scared as shit of dummies.  You know, like the ventriloquist dummies?  Uh yeah.  Last night Karl and I watched a movie called “Dead Silence” and even though it was not the scariest thing I’ve seen technically, it was emotionally.  Holy fuckballs!  There were evil dolls and dummies turning their heads, talking, killing people.  I rarely scream at scary movies but last night, I was like a schoolgirl seeing a cock for the first time!  Even worse?  They had a ventriloquist clown dummy.  I thought I may lose my dinner right there.

Speaking of dinner, I actually cooked steak for the first time last night.  I must stop here and tell you that I am a fanfuckingtastic cook normally but when it comes to meat?  Errrrr.  Actually, wait a minute, I *can* make a damned fine pot roast but maybe that is because that is baked, not fried or grilled.  Last night, when asked to cook these huge steaks, I turned to the only place that I knew would help me out in a jiffy…no, NOT Google but rather Twitter.  I twatted that I had no idea how to cook steak and within minutes I had replies, direct messages and even a few people that contacted me via Google Talk.  It still floors me when I actually sit and think about what a powerful medium Twitter is, yanno…when used for good and not evil.  Last night, Karl and I were talking about when it would fade away into the nether and I think I’ve decided that it won’t be anytime soon.  Anyway, in case you are wondering…I used a George Foreman grill and my steaks were juicy and delicious.

Speaking of grilling and also of how I can relate the most fucked up subjects to one another, I want to dust off Snackie Radio for one week to talk about feminism.  How the HELL did I come down this road?  Hey, I’ll tell you!  The reason that I don’t know how to cook steak is that throughout my whole life, the man has always grilled up the steaks.  Whether it was my Dad or whatever current man I was dating, I was never really allowed to cook the steaks.  Okay, maybe “allowed” is a strong word, but I know that you know what I mean, jelly beans.  Also?  I always just said, “eh, that’s a guy’s job” without thinking twice.  I’ve always known that my feminism quotient is slightly less than some of the more erm, “militant” feminists and truth be told, I’ve always been okay with that.  I love gender equality and all that it stands for but oddly enough, part of me is still a traditionalist.  I love it when a man holds the door open for me or gives me his jacket because I am cold.  I’m okay with a household statement where the guy does all the barbecuing and the woman does something else that she is probably better at as well.  I don’t feel “held down” as a woman when some of these more traditional things pop up and if I did, I’d sure as hell say something.  However, I know that there are women out there chomping at the bit for more more more equality!  In fact, some people can blame the patriarch for every damned thing that happens to them, but not this girl.  I’m a true lover of men…take that how you want, I guess.  In any case, I’m going to do a show about this soon, but am not sure when.

That’s all she wrote, kids!  Or in other words…”Party’s over”, said the girl.  I swear that my next post about sex is going to be simply amazing and will have you on the edge of your seats!  Okay well, I mean…it will be somewhat riveting.  Well shit, interesting?  Erm, a good read?  I hate to set myself up to fail here, haha.

Double A Kisses,
Me

Posted in Hilly's Life 2008, Random Schmandom | Comments (30)

Catching Up With…

July 25th, 2008

This is going to be a short bullety post because uh, I am still drained from yesterday’s dip in the deep end of the non-cryptic pool and honestly?  I don’t have too much to talk about today.  So yeah, let’s turn this mother out!

1.)  Karl and I made a video post yesterday.  It lives over at his place…won’t ya go check it out?  I think it’s pretty damned funny but then again, I could be biased since I am actually in the damned thing!

2.)  I just want to thank everyone for your comments yesterday and for your total love and support.  I am overwhelmed by how awesome and amazing everyone is being and really, it touched me in ways you can’t imagine.  In layman’s terms…I cried a lot yesterday (but the good kind of tears).

3.) People that I adore the fuck out of are slowly rolling into town (well San Diego anyway, but that is only a little drive for me).  Tomorrow, I will be rocking the city at DaveDiego as well as hanging out and doing lots of other stuff (like getting this guy really drunk).  I think fun will be had by all and yep, I’ll be a total photo whore.

4.) My boobs are big.  Seriously.  Also?  I play with my hair alot.  Seriously again.

See how lame I am today?  Nothing much on my mind but the stuff talked about yesterday and the stuff I am doing tomorrow.  Now if you’ll excuse me, my phone has rang five fucking times while posting this short ass blog post.  What.  The.  Fuck?

Just Can’t Get Enough Kisses,
Me

Posted in Hilly's Life 2008, Random Schmandom | Comments (20)

Caption Caption, Who’s Got The Caption?

July 22nd, 2008

I need to write a real, honest-to-goodness, gut dump of a blog post but I’m scared that anything I say today will come out heinously vitriolic or completely depressed in a drama queen sort of way.  I’d like a day or so to figure out what it is deep down inside of me that is causing me to seriously feel 1.) like kicking certain people’s teeth out of their heads or 2.) like running and holding on to some people while I cry, all clingy like the brand name Saran Wrap (not that cheap shit that falls apart).  I’m hoping it’s just a phase caused by snapping back to reality after five days of frivolity and fun…although, part of me knows it isn’t, dammit.  Right now there’s sort of a beauty in my breakdown though, so I think I’ll let it ride until I can figure out what the hell to say and/or how to say it without being snatchy and such.

In the meantime, as some of you know, I just returned home from BlogHer and a weekend at Jester’s house.  To be honest, I spent less time at BlogHer than a lot of people but I have my reasons, some of which are private.  Blah blah blah, moving on…

Whenever there is a huge get together with anyone, lots of pictures are taken and plastered for the world to see on various Flickr accounts.  Part of my aforementioned “break down” has to do with some of those pictures and trying to reconcile the way others see me (especially when they use words like “pretty” or “beautiful”) with the way I see myself (which is sometimes flattering, often not).  In any case, of all the pictures that I have seen so far, the one below is my favorite for some odd reason.  It’s main focus isn’t me, but my presence is there and yanno, something about this picture sums up my friendship with my lovely friend Jester.

Where do we go from here?  I want you to CAPTION THIS PICTURE! That’s right!  If you feel like playing, find a clever little caption for the picture above and we shall put them to a vote later this week!  The winner gets something so special that I can’t even mention it yet (yeah, we all know what that really means but shush!).  Anyway, ready. set, go!  Oh and, if you have nothing clever to say, don’t worry…your comments about other shit are always welcome too!

Rooty Tooty Fresh And Fruity Kisses,
Me

ETA:  Karl took this picture.  It can be found on his Flickr!

Posted in I Love Them, Random Schmandom | Comments (35)

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