? ??????????????X-Ray High Heel? ????? ?? ???Rating: 3.4 (221 Ratings)??30 Grabs Today. 27045 Total Grabs.
??????Preview?? | ??Get the Code?? ?? ?????????????????Flip Flops? ????? ?? ???Rating: 4.3 (284 Ratings)??29 Grabs Today. 46443 Total Grabs. ??????Preview?? | ??Get the Code?? ?? ?? BLOGGER TEMPLATES AND TWITTER BACKGROUNDS ?

Sunday, January 31, 2010

The Foundation of Your Wicked Nature

Strip off your accouterments and stand naked before yourself. *ahem* I meant that figuratively, not literally. I mean, you can break it down to the body issues you may or may not have as well, but those are so last decade and so fucking superficial, I was hoping you would be a little more high minded than that today.

In your 20's? If so, you probably don't have the job of your dreams, but that's okay, it's not quite time for that yet. You live in a NOW society, but sometimes the whole of our society can be dead fucking wrong, this is one of those instances. You will, in most cases, actually need to work hard to attain that job. Frankly, often, that goal will be a moving target, you will change your mind numerous times as to what your dream job is, which is perfectly fine. It's your life. No one else, including your mommy and daddy, get to to tell you what you want, so tell them all to take a fly fucking leap and pursue your dream. If you do have your dream job and you are in your 20's, EVERYONE HATES YOU! They assume someone bought it for you or you sucked a cock to get it(this applies for men and women), even your best friends resent the fuck out of you. Quit now and start over under a new name. (just kidding, good for you, cocksucker) Unless you are one of those rare and extremely unusual 20somethings, your relationship status is static, often tumultuous, which is also perfectly fine. You are where you should be in the Wicked Foundational building process. ;) If you matured at a rapid pace and have found a partner suited to your tastes, good for you, don't be stupid, don't be given to jealousy or mistrust, that is not a wicked trait and will wreck a relationship. If this is the person you see yourself doing it with in rocking chairs (I will send diagrams upon request) then this is a tender time in the relationship.

Are you in your 30's? HAHAHAHA!! This is me laughing at you, with you, for you. What the fuck?! Yeah, so, nothing is what it was supposed to be. Weren't we all supposed to be living our dream at this point? Dream job, dream house, dream relationship, the whole fucking thing. Fuck you everybody for that clusterfuck!! I live in Kentucky and wasn't even given the option of them using the KY before they broke that one off in my ass. Raise your hand if you have been divorced at least once? Show of hands for single parenting? How about raising them up for my job sucks? Oh, and "I am back in school getting a different degree than my original chosen career path"? Let's not forget the newly unemployed, go ahead, raise them up high.... Yeah, so here we are, the 30's. That age where parents seemed so old and wise to us as children. Now playing video games and sitting around in front of our laptops until all hours of the night.(guilty, not of the video game thing, but I can list a dozen 30something guys who have a lot invested in their PS3 systems) Getting our tattoos and just wondering why none of it went like we thought it would. Ummm, because life happens. Who fucking knows. We get up in the morning, dress ourselves and smile at the day and keep going. Or, flip off the chirping bird and keep going, all depends on how your mood is that morning, point is, it's all just a stage in time, it will pass.

In your 40's? LMAO sorry, but, umm, see 30's, only try a little harder not get depressed. It really is okay.

In your 50's? Here's the deal, my parents are in their mid to late fifties and they still struggle, with the loss of their parents, most recently. Helping my brother out through his divorce, with helping out and worrying about their daughter when she was sick, so, word to the wise for all of you parents who are younger, this shit never ends, our kids will drive us batshit crazy for the duration of our lives. Then there is my aunt, who had a husband pass away after over 20 years of marriage, then her next relationship was with a man who cheated on her. So, learn to deal with trials and tribulations while you are young, they will continue. I also know a guy in his 50's who is single,or was the last time we talked, in a transitional period of his life, I guess you would say, just as lost and uncertain as the 20somethings addressed in the earlier paragraph. Meaning, perhaps, maturity is never fully realized.

Building a wicked foundation isn't about your relationship with others, it is based on how you feel about yourself when you lay your head on that pillow at night. Regrets keep you awake at night, eat at your insides and create self doubt and uncertainty. Decisions are rarely laid out before us in black and white, life simply isn't that easy. It would be wonderful if it were, but it isn't. One of the beautiful things about life is decisions in our society are rarely permanent. Spouses are interchangeable. Unhappy with your career, go back to school. Is any of it easy? Don't be a simpleton, of course it's not fucking easy, the only thing easy in this life is mac & cheese (which tastes like overcooked bugs in your mouth) and whores. Is it worth it? That is a question only you can answer. In the end, a true wicked foundation is laid with the stone of a person who walks by a mirror and knows that they will go to bed that night dreaming of Jimmy Fallon, not the classes they wish they had enrolled in but didn't, or the guy they wish they had called back but didn't, or the job they should have applied for but didn't. Point, failing is sometimes the very best part of life, it pisses you off just enough to make you fight harder and prove to yourself, not someone else, that you are capable of that and much more! Then you are on the road to wicked deliciousness!!!

Saturday, January 30, 2010

Wicked Girls.........Fucked Up Friday

I always wait until the end of the night to write. It's me time. It's when all the events of the day have finally had time to stew in my seedy little mind. It's the time when everyone else in the house has gone their merry little way. Tonight, it's the time when I find myself sitting here going, "What a fucked up week!".

I had an email through the blog this week from a lurker who wanted to point out that while I am comfortable sharing the details of my sex life here on the world wild net (hehehe, yes, fuck you, it was another pun), I never really share any personal anecdotes. Well, aren't you just the most perceptive creeper we ever have encountered in these parts.Not!! I share what I choose to share. There is a world of blogs out there, mine is experimental, if you aren't satisfied with it, there are a couple of others to read, or so I have heard.

I'm sitting in the midst of a snowstorm that promises to have my darling little car buried in fucking snow by the time I drag my happy little ass out of bed in the morning. What with me being such a big fan of snow and cold, that has me just over the sonofabitching moon right about now.

I went to a card game earlier and wound up at a gunfight, seems I showed up at said gunfight with a kni.......fuck, nope, didn't even bring a knife........I was unstabtastic......ROFLMAO.......fortunately, for a change I had on running shoes and I was smart enough to use them. WTH??!!!

Speaking of guns, apparently, here in Bumfuck, KY, when an old man shoots vehicles,(note I did not say AT, because he is a good shot, nor did I use the singular form of the noun in that sentence, because there was more than one) the proper response by a police officer is to call a family member and suggest that one of the family go see if they can get the old guy to give up his gun. I shit you not, that's what was said. (separate gun related issue, by the way) WTHx2??!!

Middle school daughter is on swimteam, seems someone thought it would be fine to hire old pervert to take team photos this year, so instead of the usual pictures, I now have paid top dollar for a Sports Illustrated style photo of my daughter in her bathing suit posing on a diving board. Um, hello, they don't even use the fucking diving boards for swimming!!! WTF!!! Her response, you wonder, "So, you don't like the pictures?" With that whole sad, but mom, how could you not like my pictures, face on. Of course, I am thinking, "Holy fuck, I need to do internet search tonight to see what this sick bastard is selling these for on the black market..." Fucking sick fuck!!

Now that I have let all of that out on you poor unsuspecting souls who come here hoping for various giggles and sexual misdeeds or god knows what, I feel so much better. HA!HA! It also saves all of my friends from having to hear any of it. Plus, none of you had to hear any of the actual bad stuff that is going on, just the scraping the surface irritating shit that makes me want to pen people in the eyes. Is that normal? Dick, your answer doesn't count here.

But, really, do you ever find yourself listening to someone drone on about something and you drift off into a fantasy about gouging their eyes out with an ink pen? Or get stuck talking to someone so terminally unattractive that you want to gouge your own eyes out? Especially worse when they are really nice. Then you enjoy talking to them but looking at them during the conversation is almost unbearable. I'm not talking about normal unattractive, I'm talking painful ugly, here.

What about people who look normal, but then they talk...and you realize that they sound like nails on a chalkboard. The sound of their voice making your spine tingle, but not in that "oh holy hell I wish your clothes would melt off of you right now" way, but rather that "please, I've heard the ocean, I've heard the sound of my kids voice screaming with delight, I've heard the moans of pleasure I can give, that's good enough, I'm ready for deafness, NOW" kind of way? Yeah, can't stand that either.

It amazes me how many people think I am a nice person. I can't even tell you how many times I am told how sweet I am in a week. The thing is, I am really quite outspoken, I pull very few punches. I am a little less reserved here, but not much, pretty much, what you read is what you get with me. I mean, I guess I am an okay person, if by nothing more than instinct. I don't bite strange babies in the local bar. I don't punch random, quiet, attractive people without provocation. I smile all the time (of course, that's because I am constantly thinking of wicked things). I volunteer in my community. I help people whenever I know someone is in need. Really, I guess I am probably the nicest people hater I know.

Hmmm, think I will end on that note, drift off to sleep, dream of Jimmy Fallon and the love of my life showering me in shoes and Tiffany jewelry as they fight over who is taking me to Italy for my dream vacation. Those silly guys, they have this argument over and over again.

Friday, January 29, 2010

Wicked Girls.........Don't Do Jealous

Is it youth? Lack of confidence? Fear? When I look back at relationships from my youth I can remember being jealous, but I definitely outgrew it. I can accept youthful jealousy. It's grown ass women and men displaying all out jealousy that I can't grasp. I truly don't understand it. So, let us dissect it. Pick it apart and try to rectify it, if possible.

Jealousy, the green-eyed monster lurks beautifully behind the curtain of dark lashes

Jealousy: 1)Intolerant of rivalry or unfaithfulness
2)Hostile toward a rival or one believed to enjoy an advantage
3)Vigilant in guarding a possession
My thanks to Merriam Webster.

Those definitions alone are enough to turn my stomach.

INTOLERANT OF RIVALRY?!?!? Rivalry makes one faster, better, stronger. Seriously though, is the rivalry real, or perceived? That would be the key, for one to truly be a rival, your lover would have to be accepting advances from them, in which case, it's not jealousy, it's attempted murder, of your lover, not the so-called rival, thus, we keep moving.

The use of the word unfaithfulness in the first definition blurs the line between jealousy and blind rage. If one has been unfaithful, that doesn't make their lover jealous, it makes them flip the fuck out and go apeshit nuts.

So, for the purpose of this post, we are purposefully pretending that word was left out, which, it should have been. (seems, in some cases, I am smarter than the dictionary makers, who knew?)

One believed to have an advantage? What does that mean? Nicer ass? Bigger breasts? Longer cock (threw that in for you guys)? Bigger bank account? Every person you encounter on a daily basis has something unique and special to offer the world that you do not possess. You are aware of this, right? You don't really believe that there are only twelve people out there that are better than you and damnthemotherfuckingluck they had to walk into your gin joint tonight?! Please tell me that's not what you think, if so, go read Doonesbury or something, seriously, I just don't need you here.

My personal favorite, vigilant in guarding a possession!!! When my shoes start trying to follow my friends out the door as they leave, I might have a BK Whopper sized fucking jealousy issue if we are using this definition, but seriously, we are talking about human fucking beings here. If you are with someone you need to guard, run, don't walk, away from the relationship immediately. Don't laugh, don't giggle, I'm not fucking playing around here.

Let's just break this down Barney style.

Are you over the age of 25? Have you made it to the point where you have BOTH agreed that you are in a mutually exclusive relationship? If so, then you have one question left........do you trust this person? if your answer is yes, great! Then don't go through their fucking emails, Blackberry, pants pockets, credit card bill, etc. If the answer is no, then you have an additional question, is the issue you or the other person?

That is the hardest question of all. Some people really aren't trustworthy. Let's face it, people cheat. Surprised, read much?! Some people don't cheat, they just end up in a relationship with a person who has low self esteem or has been cheated on in the past and blames the entire opposite (or same) sex for that person's mistake. You need to evaluate this and decide if you are the problem or the other person is the issue. Either way, you are probably looking at an opt out situation with that particular relationship. Unless it is a fuckbuddy only eligible situation. ;)

The thing is, if you find yourself standing in a room, shouting, "Then why did I see a text that said _______ _____ ______ _____ ______ from _____ when I was looking through your Black Berry while you were in the shower" you should do three things immediately. Phone a friend. Have several drinks. Figure out how to apologize for losing your fucking mind and pack your bags both at the same time while trying to regain some semblance of your dignity, because trust me honey, the minute that sentence left your mouth, you lost it all!

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Wicked Girls........Playing The Numbers Game

New relationships, so exciting, spending hours talking, laying in one another's arms, getting to know the details of this new, fascinating creature and the things that made them who they are and what you can't resist.

This is the time that you are most likely to hear the question that is the basis for much debate and todays post. "Tell me about your sex life, how many people have you had sex with?" Fuckity fuck fuck fuck!!! This can be a deal breaker, or at least a strain that stays with a lot of couples for the remainder of many relationships.

Men, when I asked them, at first said it was a question they wouldn't ask. Then, as the conversation flowed, their answer began to turn to a less solid ground, more the "Well, if I asked it would be to ensure I was safe from disease." Really? This backs one into a corner. Especially when you know the individual has a history of one night stands. Have these one night stands been properly vetted and rejected if not deemed "clean"? Doubtful, in fact, I know better.

Women, no surprise here, asked out of curiosity or insecurity. For fuck's sake girls, it's your bed he's in now, your body he's ravaging now. Get over it. Curiosity maimed the pussy, killed the cat and damaged god only knows what else, let it go. Your insecurities, work those out with a therapist, or follow my tweets, whatever, but don't lay landmines in the bed of budding relationships.

Essentially, after speaking with friends and strangers, reading some other blogs and reviewing several articles, it all reminds me of a sales tactic. It's a trust checker. A question asked at a certain point in the close of a deal to make sure your client is following you and has reached the proper commitment level for the stage you have led them to at that point, knowing you can go no further into the pitch until you get them there.

Proper responses. When faced with this question, what the fuck do you say? Most people just straight up told me they lie. I was asked once by a former "not-boyfriend" and I simply said, " More than you want to think about, so don't ask again or I will tell you." That ended the conversation. But seriously, what do people say, verses what people want to hear.

Guys said they ballpark it. Most of the guys knew approximately how many partners they had been with, but they had never been completely honest with anyone who had asked them outright. Especially not other men.

Women said they had always been honest with their closest girlfriends about their number, cut it down considerably for pals they weren't "that" close to and usually cut it in half, sometimes more than half when talking to potential relationship material.

What I found most fascinating, guys take on girls who had numerous partners, for the most part, was not negative. (One guy did tell me he always asks early after meeting someone because if the number is above 5 she is a ho and he needs to find a way out soon, then he half assed hit on me, I laughed and said back off pal, I am way past ho status on your counter) Guys felt that the number of partners were not as important as whether or not a girl had a history of being unfaithful. I was impressed by the males of our species at this point.

Unfortunately, not so impressed by my own gender, who spent far too much time telling me that if a guy has a long history of one night stands, it's a (and I fucking kid you not, these were someone's exact words) Pavlov's dog reaction, drink beer, fuck strange, they can't help themselves. There were even a couple of guys who mirrored this sentiment, feeling that once a guy is used to being able to have sex with a myriad of different women, he would never be able to confine himself to one woman. I don't really believe that. As a girl who has a high number, but has been faithful for a very long time, reform is possible, I promise. Besides, variety doesn't only come by changing partners people, Jesus, think outside the box (hehe, I still love my puns) every now and then.

What counts in this number anyway??? Vaginal penetration only? (I know you were hoping for pictures on these, weren't you....... :( sorry) Mutual masturbation? Anal? Oral? Genital stimulation with no penetration? Penetration with foriegn objects only? Sex acts with climax only?

Getting my point here? Semantics also skew the numbers. In the end, it's best to realize that every relationship is a new beginning. The past should be behind you before you open a new door.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Wicked Girls.....Like The Lights On...Cue The Music

While reading through some things today I crossed a mental bridge, one that will create troubled waters for some, no doubt. Musical tastes during sex. Music that really gets the juices flowing *wicked grin*. If your mind has, for some godforsaken reason tuned in to a Marvin Gaye or Joe Cocker station, you should probably just check out some of my old blogs, today's will frighten, even potentially scar you. First, let me set the stage for you, we own a house, so our music can be as loud as we want it and the neighbors can't hear a thing. We have a massive stereo system so our music really can be as loud as we want it. (love of my life prides himself on this, setting speakers in strategic spots outside at Halloween scaring the fuckall out of small trick or treaters) Love of my life also shares my love of varied types of music, not opting for the "let's continue to listen to the same stuff we listened to when we were in high school throughout our entire adulthood" mentality.

All of these facts being presented, I will also warn you about something else, we do not watch music videos while having sex, porn on occasion, yes, but not music videos, with that in mind, some of these videos, should be played with your eyes closed. Just sayin!

A good warm up song is always nice, something kind of easy and sexy, not hard and heavy, those come much later....

I like this one, I realize he is a huge turn off to virtually every man alive, but, the song has a certain enticing feel to it, "show me what's your favorite trick that you want me to do......" Good way to start heating things up.

Of course, being totally aware that I have just as many wicked boys ;) reading, plus, these girls, all of them, are smoking hot and this song, everything about it, is just amped up musical sexxxx

Mmmmmmhmmmm, stop telling me and start showing me what you got already. Damn! That moves us on to the slightly less light hearted stuff.

I like the darker sound of this, the vocals are light but the music and words are dark, it feels sexy in a strange way....

Next is an obvious choice, but sometimes, things are obvious because they belong. Trent's voice is super sexy, the words of this song are raw and sexual in nature, the music is hard, it is blatant, bold, I relate.

Transistion straight into another oldie but goodie.......

"I don't know you're fucking name, so what let's fuck"....Jonathon, you're so poetic.

Next, by now things should be moving well enough that this is merely background noise, barely noticed.....

Mmmmm, clearly he likes the naughty girls. Tsk, tsk.

There is a naughty girl theme here ;) Now it's time to wind things down. My idea of wind down music? Oh I know you are dying to know. John Mayer? Michael Murphy? *giggle*

I love Marilyn! Oh yes, that's music that can help me drift away.

Got a favorite? A must have on those cold nights? Don't be shy?

Monday, January 25, 2010

Wicked Girls.......Wish They Had A More Interesting Day

So, aside from being assaulted by clowns..*ahem*...it has quite possibly been the most boring day of my life.

Unfortunately, it has not been the most boring day ever in the life of someone I don't know. Yes, you read that correctly, let me continue, it will all come together for you.

While checking my Facebook, because we just have to have one of those, a friend of mine posts a picture of a wrecked SUV. Before I have a chance to ask what it's all about, he explains, it is his girlfriend's, she had a car accident this morning. What a Fucked Up way to start the day, right? That, it turns out, was the best part of her morning.


She had gotten out of her vehicle and was on the side of the road shaking and crying, visibly upset. A man stopped to help. In the confusion she had left the vehicle running. He offered to shut it off for her. Somewhere in the midst of things, he left the scene before the police arrived. Oh wait, did I mention our good neighbor left WITH HER FUCKING WALLET!!!!!!! That's right ladies and gentlemen, stole her fucking wallet while she is standing there outside her wrecked vehicle trying to compose herself. Fucking priceless. (I feel skull fucking is totally justifiable here, with a tire iron)

Incredibly bad, fucked up, sucked into a blackhole, drive you batshit crazy, call it quits and just crawl inside a bottle kind of day, right? After all, how could it get any worse than this? Well, that would come when you realize you still had your boyfriend's ATM card in your wallet. Of course, this is an easy fix, he just needs to call the bank and report them stolen. Oh wait, in between the time of the accident and him calling the bank, there were three purchases to.......drumroll please.......oh hell yeah....liquor stores. Every liquor store in the US has camera footage, the bank knows the exact time of the purchases, won't be long now and he will be busted. It's a small town and he's a stupid fucktard of a criminal. I am sure this isn't his first run in with the local police.

Finally, a happy ending, not the massage parlor type, but, hey, not all of my blogs can be sex-centric, sorry. I'm sure she isn't exactly elated tonight, nor should she be, she has every right to be super bad pissed and be ready to take a tire iron and, well, we covered that....

Sunday, January 24, 2010

So Now I know Why They Call It NashVegas

Day(and night)2 in Nashville was a whole different kind of adventure. Starting with the purchase of my supersweetsexy new comefuckme shoes.

You like? Yeah, me too. Un-fucking-fortunately in the nastiness of leaving the hotel this morning, or maybe during the whatever of last night, they got pushed under the bed last night and left in my room at the hotel. Hope the cleaning staff didn't wear the same size I do. Called and left message for the manager this evening when I returned home. Hoping they will be returned and I will have my new loves shipped to me and back in my possession by mid-week.

First things first, Nude Karaoke, which we intended as a spectator sport, thank you very much, Elly, was a bit of false advertising, fuckers. Apparently, this is what really bad strip clubs stoop to in order to entice patrons inside their establishments. Mindful that I am somewhat judgemental (similar to Beavis and Butthead being somewhat immature) I will give you the exact words of one of the gentlemen who was with us "Alright, if this is what the strippers look like, the karaoke better be REALLY fucking good!!". hehehe When 50 year old men are that choosy about the naked 20 something's they are looking at, I feel pretty justified in my criticisms. Let's just say that it is hard to understand how a girl can spend much time dancing and still be in such poor physical condition. EEK! Kudos for the confidence to do so naked, though.

Speaking of confidence, I earned my Shutup and Dance t-shirt at Coyote Ugly's on 2nd Street

You guessed it, the back says "I danced on the bar at Coyote Ugly in Nashville" Love of my life said no dancing on the bar, no shirt, so, I earned my shirt. *sigh* It's a tough life I lead.

Speaking of tough life, check out these delicious little morsels I befriended at Tootsie's Orchid Lounge. Not a pair of Wranglers or cowboy hat in the bunch. We love these boys!!!! They were fabulous fun..not too hard to look at either.........

On the other hand, I think we had one of those horrible, "Larry the Cable Guy" wanna be sightings

Could you possibly have a lower dream in life. I want to be just like that there Larry the cable guy. He's cool. What the fuck? I had an overwhelming urge to run my heel into his "family jewels" just to ensure that the ignorance would end there!!! Fucking rednecks.

I was angry very little, amused a whole lot, now I'm home and will have tons to rant about tomorrow. Promise, after all, I have boots to track down and hotel staff to suck up to in order to get them.

Saturday, January 23, 2010

Wicked Girl.......Does the Strip, The Little One

Made it to Nashville. Which explains last night's post being, ohhhhh, almost 12 hours late. But, as the pic shows, (ok, sidenote here, and yes, this one of those oh so beloved insanely long parenthetical breaks, ratfuck, but, no wicked friends with me and LOOK at me in these pics, OMG, that shirt fucking looks like a tent, so being given away immediately, won't even get into why my hair looks like that, but it will be straightened today, promise whatever I wear tonight will be much better!!!)
I could own this town hehehe
I could own this bitch!!

It's official, I can have a good time anywhere. Even here.
Lick, slam, suck, repeat
Well, of course the tequila helped, but hell, a girl's gotta do something, not all of these 'wanna be stars' have wicked friends to let them know that they are talentless bastards who should really give it up.

We did hear a musician last night who was impressive, his name was Josh Dunne, I was even going to put his youtube video on here, then when I saw it, he's wearng a fucking cowboy hat. Josh lives in Nashville and sings. What about his life requires an oversized hat? Nope, no link. Want to hear his slightly above average country music, make the effort, which we all know you aren't, fucked again Josh, all over a cowboy hat. Hmmmm.

We had a very good time. By we, I just realized I never told you who my travel companions are, we were invited to join the love of my life's uncle, aunt, two cousins, their spouses and one of the spouses brothers and respective spouse. 10 of us. 5 couples. Trip here went very smoothly. Check in went very smoothly. Everything went very smoothly.

It amuses all of them that I tend to randomly speak to people on the street. Nice boots. Fascinating hair choice. Where does one find a shirt like that? I also stop the really good ones and take pictures with them....no one ever stops and to even think about saying no, they just smile and get their picture taken with the stranger. Morons.



You are no one, we aren't fooled!

Love of my life laughs hysterically when I do this, he is always amazed at my ability to just approach total strangers and start a conversation with, "Hey, mind taking a picture with me?" The others in the group were a bit shocked at first, by the end of the night they were just like "Oh, Shawn found somebody else to take pictures with, she will catch up." :)

I like travelling with this group, they can tolerate my quirkiness. I also like the fact that the other wives do the whole "Damn, look at her ass baby, you could bounce quarters off of it" thing, too. Nice to travel with people who don't do the stupid, 'pretend you aren't looking at all of the hot people around you' thing. Our friends Ami and Andrew, who we travel and hang out with alot are the same way, we are constantly pointing out to each other super hot guys and girls. They exist, everybody wants them. We all know it. Who gives a flying monkey fuck? If you do, go fuck yourself.

This morning while walking I found a nude karaoke bar. Hopefully they will let me take pictures. ;)

Peace out ya'll!!!

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Wicked Girls........On A Weekender

So, tonight will be short and sweet, as I am about to do a quick pack and double check. Heading out for Nashville in the morning. Just a quick little weekend trip to the Music City *gag reflex* Hmmm, didn't know I had one of those. ;)

So, first let's examine the amusing nature of a group of people getting together and saying to themselves, taking Shawn to Nashville seems like a fun thing to do.

A) Wrangler jeans, not acceptable on anyone, EVER!!

I don't give a flying monkey fuck how famous you are or how well formed screaming 60 year old over made up country fans told you your ass is, not okay!

B) Cowboy hats, unless this is a costume party and you are mocking an old western actor, take that fucking thing off your head.

By the way, if you tip that thing my way and smile like that again, I really am going to pour my drink on your hat, it's not charming, it's fucking creeper style fake ass wanna be shit and I would much rather have a Flo Rida style playa come at me with some hard core game than your tip of the hat when it all ends with somebody trying to get in my pants, at least fake Flo Rida is coming at me straight. Fake ass cowboy sissy shit.

C) The only thing worse than bad popular country artists is bad country artists who aren't even popular yet. WOOHOO!! Poor fuckers.

Holy epiphany mother fuckers!! That's why they are wanting us to go. They go every year, they are bored with Nashville. I am this year's "liven things up a little" solution.

Well, I will pack the camera and laptop and try my best to document and not disappoint..........them or you. ;)

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Wicked Girls...Yes, We Are Human Too

We are just more passionate about our state of humanity, or, well, less likely to hide that passion.

A fiery, all consuming passion

We love with a passion that we fearlessly show. We dislike with a passion that we also show without hesitation or fear. Some call it a lack of filtration. I'm human dumbfuck, not a water purification system, I have no filter. Others call it honesty. Uh, yeah. That's why so many people are uncomfortable with it. Before someone says, they have a medication for that, fuck you, not manic depressive. Just know that suppressing my feelings is unhealthy, plus, it encourages people to continue to act like assclowns (homage paid).

I have feelings. Imagine me, if you will, as a cellphone, I can receive texts(hurt feelings), MMS(anger), and phone calls(happiness). Unfortunately, there are only two options for a ring tone, so, hurt feelings and anger sound the same. You piss me off or hurt my feelings, it sounds the same. I will curse, threaten, hurt your feelings and tell you the things other people lie to you about. Apparently I am really wanting to watch Kill Bill again, because all this week I keep thinking about those fight scenes. I do love them. I can't help but thinking, wouldn't it be nice if there were no repercussions for going all Kill Bill on some of the dumbfucks we run into on a daily basis? It is what it is. Poor grammar but a very appropriate statement.

I love passionately, as well, something we don't talk about here very often.

Ok, this pic has little to do with love and more to do with passion, I just like it!!

Yes, yes, we have determined that I am passionate about sex. Which, trust me, I'm not backing off of that, but I love with equal fervor. Last night's blog was an example of my passionate love and defense of my children. I love family, friends and sometimes defenseless strangers with a passion, it is part of what makes a Wicked Girl. I have been with the love of my life for a while now and he is still, hands down, the love of my life. We will be doing it in rocking chairs after sending grandchildren off to school someday. (scar you with that mental image? I fucking hope so!!!!) Or until he turns 43. Hehehe I love him deeply, passionately and sometimes he probably wonders why he didn't just find some regular girl. Of course, then I smile at him and say something utterly fabulous and stunning and he remembers. Being a Wicked Girl is great, but even I can't imagine how wonderful it must be to get to live with one. ;)

Guest Post From My Friend The Dick

First, I would like to congratulate Shawn for being my lucky winner.

Suck it up Shawn… 15 minutes and all.

Next, I would like to tell Shawn to fuck off for picking the topic of the blog. What am I a 4th grader?


Don’t answer that.

Also…I would have written a guest blog if you would have asked. Muahahahahahahaha.

Evil laughing aside, I really didn’t know how to approach this topic.


I thought about it long ( 5 minutes tops) and hard (ha, he said hard) before starting this blog.

As you can tell, the 200 words may be filled with ranting. Hey, it’s my style and you can suck it.

So, I decided to follow the spirit of the title and tell Shawn what I really think. I will be quite honest and admit that I haven’t read all of Shawn’s blogs. I will… I just haven’t yet. However, I have a pretty good feeling about her. When I read her blog I hear a sassy voice (yeah I know… I always hear voices) and her stabbitude makes me laugh.

Also, she talks pretty candidly about sex.

If wicked girls knew….

That some guys like wicked girls. I like that my gf doesn’t take my shit. It is about time somebody won’t. One of my readers (and real life friend (gasp (shock (oh no, not this again (muahahahah (ahem)))))) thought that Jaime from A Cheeto Named Larry was my girlfriend (ah hell no). My real gf laughed and said, “Yeah, she wouldn’t take your shit either.”

That guys don’t always want to have sex. Just almost always.

Leaving your initials in your pubes is just wrong. Seriously, you need help.

And, to end this whole charade, speaking your mind is a valuable trait. However, I have absolutely no filter most times. I have found a freedom in this… and sometimes trouble. Also, this applies to actions as well. But… looking before you leap is lame.

There you are folks, my first ever forced guest blog. Your welcome.


NOTE from Wicked Shawn: My thanks to you for the guest blog. To my readers who aren't familiar with our guest, www.iamadick.squarespace.com , go check him out. Very funny stuff, funny in an angry, stabalicious kind of way.
Of course I have a few notes. Yes, you are like a fourth grader, just with a much bigger attitude. Were you not aware of this? Really??
Ask? Umm, hi, I'm Shawn, clearly you are not familiar with me, I like a challenge. Asking is for sissies and whiners. "Will you please do this for me?" Fuck that, I will take people down to get what I want, that's how we Wicked Girls roll. ;)
Of course you don't like sex ALL the time, when would you eat????
Love that you like your gf not putting up with your shit, makes me almost take back fourth grader comment.
Again, thank you.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

The Little Things

It must be What The Fuck Tuesday!! As in What the Fuck were you thinking, asshat who called me and hung up.....twice in a row. I have caller id dipnuts!!! Then ask who I am when I call you back!! I would be the very same person you just hung up on twice dickweed. It went sort of like this.....click.

Why are you trying to run over me with your "I am too lazy to walk around Sam's Club so I'm in the cart on wheels" woman? Are you angry that I am not only able to navigate the whole warehouse by foot, but in heels? Without running out of breath even. Hell, dare me and give me a second to grab my Dooney, I will run circles around you and the wheels of slow death in my heels all over this bitch ass warehouse. But while I am trying to navigate this monolith with this cart of doom, stop backing into me, got it Sam's whore. Stop lustily staring at your 45 lb tub of cheesy poofs long enough to glance backward. Fuck!!!!!!!!!!!! If I have to rapidly pull this cart back out of your way one more time, it's going to end badly, not for me, no, I will be laughing my fucking ass off, probably sitting in the aisle, legs splayed out around me, while you cry out that you have whiplash. Essentially, you back that fucking thing up toward me one more time and I am ramming my cart full on into your ass, it will be a 100lb plastic package of cookie cleanup on aisle 74, cause your shit is going to go flying. Get it, got it, good!!!!

Skinny Cinnamon Dolce Latte, no whip. Grande please. No, no extra shot, thank you though. Ok, here you go. Wonderful, enjoy the nice weather. That was my side. Seems pleasant, normal exchange. Now, for his side.........it went, verbatim, like this:
Yeah? Extra shot.. $4.83 So, after I picked up my coffee, I stopped as he moved from one foot to the other, apparently this is what he makes the majority of his money for, flashed a big grin and said, "Hey, you know the difference in the real Starbucks and the ones like these, here inside the Barnes and Nobles?". "Huh?" was his dazzling response. " Your lame ass would have never gotten hired at a real Starbucks, they expect actual customer service." Now, one would expect, at least I would, to be called a bitch, whore, ass, something, after this comment, what does our Mr. CS comeback with........." You have no idea how bad this job sucks." I just shook my head and laughed as I left. Fucking pathetic, I would knock the hell out of my son if he ever acted like that about his job. Seriously, spoiled ass fucking brats. Slinging fucking coffee, must be really tough out there in the cruel world.

High school girls should have high heels embedded in their skulls, just as a warning to others. So, my daughter not in high school yet, but she is an excellent swimmer and has been accepted on the local high school swim team. Tonight we were at a swim meet. She swam a relay with 3 of the high school girls. Even though she set a personal record and swam an outstanding lap, she was swimming against a state finalist who is a senior and has competed nationally, I adore my daughter, but she isn't that good(what? I'm a parent, but I'm not fucking stupid). After the relay, my daughter walked over to talk to me and the love of my life, while we were talking I overhear 3 of the high school girls standing barely 3 feet away from my daughter talking shit about her, then, to make it worse, the one who had her back to my daughter, realizes she is standing there, says, hey, she's standing right there, only to have one of these other little bitches say, yeah, I know, I don't care. (okay, WARNING, I am about to talk about teenage girls in unbelievably foul and cruel terms because my mom instinct kicked into Kill Bill mode, so, if you will potentially get offended, skip to next paragraph) OHHHHH, WAIT!!! Important fact missing!!!! Their mothers were sitting right the fuck in front of me, heard every damn bit of this and did nothing to stop this! Who is the bigger fuckstick, whorebag, bitch in this case, I find myself wondering. These hateful little bitches who find it so simple to stand around in their little group and essentially pick on the girl is 3 years younger than them, or the cunt mothers who sit there, see and hear it happening and do nothing to stop it. Not one to watch my daughter take any chance of my daughter getting hurt, physically or emotionally, I firmly suggested it was time she went back to sit with her friends on the team. Then I went on a rant to love of my life, who had been heretofore oblivious to the "girl drama" *shock and awe* I very loudly announced that he needed to get me away from there because I had heard the girls and I was aware that the parents had sat by and done nothing to stop it. Did I mention that the schools principle was sitting directly to my left? LMAO Mortified, fake ass parents whose kids I just called out for picking on the younger girl. Fuckall, I hate that for you bitches, guess you should have reigned those little whores in before I had to call you out!!! After I finished, sans curse words, you're welcome Mr. Adams, I do have a great deal of respect for you, love of my life kindly removed me and my snakeskin heels from that seating area. They are fairly new and a really pretty shade of shimmery tan, blood would have surely ruined them.

After my daughter got home, she and I talked about it briefly, she had heard them. She told me that it is a pretty regular thing. They are the swim team's mean girls. I offered to let her wear my shoes to practice Thursday. She laughed when I told her what I had done, she said they really don't bother her at all but she took great pleasure in the fact that her kickass mom had called out the frumpy moms. Then, she said something that made What the Fuck Tuesday all feel ok. She told me that what a bunch of losers in high school said about her really didn't matter, because we had given her a chance to know who she was and she really likes herself. Look out world, if she is any indication, the next generation of wicked girls are going to make you shake in your fucking boots!

Monday, January 18, 2010

Wicked Girls...........Getting Back Down to Business

Reroutered (clever, right, I know) and out of the dungeon, let's give this a real go tonight. Dispelling some old myths.

Myth one to be dispelled: Men don't marry/fall in love with girls who have sex with them on the first date. BULLSHIT!!! Somebody needs to call the love of my life and the 2 boyfriends I had before him who hung around swearing their love for me until I kicked them to the curb that fucked up shit, because apparently they missed that meeting. WHEN you sleep with a man has fuckall to do with how his feelings for you will develop, how you will connect emotionally, whether you will want to spend your lives together. First of all, in Louisville, most of the time, you have already slept with someone before the first date. Truth. Second, universally speaking, sex can be a determining factor in the connection, or more importantly, lack of connection, felt between people, why not weed out some impossibilities up front. I blame this entire myth on anti premarital sex ideals, keep your legs crossed or upstanding young men won't like you. Maybe the catch is that wicked girls don't want fine, upstanding men......

Myth two to be dispelled: Men want a lady on the street and a freak in the bed. There are some lame ass, weak fucking men out there who can't handle a freak in the bed. They fear that she will see their inadequacies, others fear they will be unable to please a woman of that stature for any sustained period of time. Likewise, there are some strong ass men who want their women to let their freak flag fly, all the time, in the bedroom, on the street, in the kitchen, you get the picture. Point is, this is not a universal thought, just because some men want and like to compartmentalize their respective partners, does not mean that it is accepted by all.

Myth three to be dispelled: Women don't like morning sex. Ok, really, let me just lay this out for you asshats. We don't like bad sex. We like good sex, end of story. Give us good sex and we like it whenever we can get it, unless we have 10 minutes to shower and get out the door, actually, even then, if it's good enough, we're willing to be late. We don't like 30 second, no foreplay, no orgasm, "sorry, were you in the room too" sex, fucktards. So, if that's all you have to offer in the mornings, then no, your girls probably don't like morning sex, but as for those of us fortunate enough to have talented partners, well, we like it anytime of the day or night, thank you very fucking much.

Fourth and Final Myth to be dispelled: Wicked girls are all talk and no action. I have a list of references, trust me, we can handle this one. ;)

In closing, the rules to a wicked sex life are simple, you decide. You decide when, you decide where, you decide who, you decide how. It's not as complicated as everyone has always tried to make it seem. It's just sex people. Fuck! (no pun intended) It's meant for pleasure, over thinking it until it's painful, not in a good pain, painful kind of way, is fucking ridiculous, go forth and fornicate. I highly encourage it! In fact, I insist. Do it in grocery store parking lots, in glass elevators, in pool halls, in bedrooms, in garages, whatever, just do it!!!! Be like the Michael Jordan's of fucking. It's the winter fucking Olympics and the USA is counting on you!! Go team, go!!

Sunday, January 17, 2010

Wicked Weekend..........;)

My only computer access still involves a dungeon........eeek! My body rejects the very thought of schlepping up and down those stairs, even for you, my darlings. Fuck all, I hate this basement. I always have, really. I have a thing for light. I am also a fan of happiness, something I have been lacking this weekend. Clearly need to fix that first thing in the morning.

Could be directly related to the breakdown of both my ability to access the internet or leave my home on the same day. Oh yeah, my brakes went out yesterday as well. Somebody give me a knife and a bad person, that's all I need, then I will find my inner happiness quite quickly. Sex would have done the trick quite nicely too, but alas, no dead bodies and no sex. *sigh*

Wicked thought for the night: I hope my dreams have Marilyn Manson and Rob Zombie soundtracks, sex or slasher, that's the kind of mood music that will be appropriate ;)

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Wicked Girls.......Hate Waiting

Fucked up router has forced me into the dungeon,aka my basement, so no real post tonight.

Other than to say that as I post this I am precariously balancing laptop on leg, cellphone to ear on shoulder while listening to the same fucking Geek Squad commercials over and over. Do they want me to be nice to the poor unsuspecting guy in India who is going to politely answer my call and pretend to give a rat's ass about my router issue? Then they shouldn't leave me on fucking hold for 20 minutes and make me listen to this shit the whole time. OMG, gimme something, anything.

Yes, I'm still typing, yes, that means I'm still on hold. For the record, if you want something done right, you should have someone else do it. According to the recording I have now heard approximately 11 times. Really asshats?? I want my fucking router to work......I want you to magically make it happen......ANSWER THE FUCKING PHONE!!!!!

The Geek Squad can remove viruses, worms and various other nasty little bits from your computer, now if only the bastards could pick up the phone. At this point I am actually hoping one of these little fuckers tells me I need to bring it in so I can look som........

Friday, January 15, 2010

Wicked Crazy.....

The entire nation tends to stereotype Kentuckians. Sometimes this pisses me the fuck off. Then I go shopping and someone pets me. You read that correctly, fucking pets me, no, I wasn't wearing fur, wasn't even wearing suede, damn Hollister hoodie of all things. I mean, don't get me wrong, it feels good and all, but pet-worthy, uh, no! Get your fucking hands off of me before I slit your fucking throat and leave your toothless ass to bleed out right here in the middle of this half ass discount shoe store. Thus, the reason I hate shopping for athletic shoes. *sigh*

But I digress, shocking as that may be. Yeah, stereotypes. Passing through Georgia once on our way back from a wonderful vacation in the Keys, we had stopped at a farmer's market. The oh so delightful guy inside who hadn't noticed the love of my life outside yet asked where I was from, I told him. Kentucky, he repeated (he was a quick one) "Home of pretty horses and fast women" were the next words out of his mouth. I actually laughed out loud. "That's a great pick-up line.......if you are planning to try and get laid by a horse sometime soon." Suddenly quick guy went silent, for the rest of the time we were there. Apparently my sense of humor and his didn't mesh. Hmmmmmmm.

Pregnant, barefoot, uneducated, uninformed, living in tents or trailers, dining at Kentucky Fried Chicken for really big celebrations. Of course, everyone wants to know if there is really gold in the vault at Fort Knox. No, but there are currently port-a-potties sitting in front of it. LOL

Obviously this is bullshit, the thing that pisses me off the most is that no one has told our local news media. Every time there is a natural disaster of any sort in the area, they find "crazy Betty" the toothless bitch who wanders the streets of town naked in the middle of the night and interview her. "Well, I seen thet thar turnader cummin, sos I jes hided under tha dummster tilz its wuz gun, thanks tha gud lawd it dint carryz me an tha garbage away, dounno wha i wudda et tuday."

Really???!!! You fucking news whore??!! You couldn't talk to the fuckin' mayor? Disaster services coordinator? Someone who has brushed their hair since the Y2K scare? I'm going to run into you in a restaurant one night and you are going to wonder why you got an extra glass of wine, sideways up your ass.......heads up bitch!!! Wicked fucking revenge. Stop making our entire state look like a bunch of backwoods idiots by doing that dumb shit, take an extra 10 minutes to do your fucking job!

Yes, they are out there, toss a rock and you will hit one, hey, guess what, toss another rock and you will hit a college graduate. Stop being so fucking lazy.

By the way, to those of you who I will be seeing this weekend, if you think it will be cute to pet me, I will cut your fucking hand off. That was some seriously creeper type shit!!!!!!

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Wicked Girls Get Desperate, But Not Like THAT

I was talking with one of my not so wicked friends and she was telling me about some things going on in her life right now. As I was listening she actually used the word desperate. It stuck in my mind far after our conversation had ended. I thought about the last time I was truly desperate for something, or felt desperation in the way she was feeling it at this point in her life. She had used it in a way that made me feel sad and my heart reached out to her.(yes, I have one, it's just not touched by douchebags or "love when I can insert this non-word in a sentence" assclowns, random bitches and fuckups get no sympathy from me either)

My pondering made me realize that my feelings of desperation over the past several years were typically based on things such as desire to have some time alone, i.e., get the fuck away from me, I desperately want you out of my line of vision. Or a new pair of shoes,i.e., I would blow every man in that shoe department for those shoes I am so deperate to walk out of here wearing them. Sometimes I have a deep need to just have a night out with the girls, i.e., I give a fuck less how hard your day at work was I desperately need to get drunk, throw on some heels and makeup and lets go dance with men until they are so turned on they have to go circle jerk in the bathroom at the club, see you in 30 minutes. At other times it's a vacation with the love of my life, i.e., I desperately needed the trip we took a couple of years ago where we stayed in San Clemente and drove the PCH, went hot air ballooning and fucked like wild animals while watching the waves roll onto the beach.....mmmmmm, good times.

Point is, it hit me that none of the really wicked girls I know have ever shown signs of real desperation. Sure, we get worried or stressed. Fucking furious about things at times, no doubt, but desperate, not our scene. Why?

Simple, I realized, one of the key indicators of wicked girls is our absolute refusal to let anyone else control our destiny. It is by definition, OURS. Desperation stems from feeling a loss of control. I promise you, those who know me in real life could attest to this, there are lots of things going on in my life right now that I don't control the overall outcome of, but I am in total control of how I handle them, how I allow them to effect me and how I let them alter my life.

To all of you wicked girls in training, remember this; if you begin to feel a pang of desperation, in it's purest form, if you let it, it will control you. So, push it down, take control of it, conquer the situation, kick it's fucking ass and stomp it in the fucking head. If it lays in the floor crying and then tries to get back up, kick it again!!

In the end, you are your number one priority, I know this now, because as a mother, father, sister, brother, wife, husband, lover, friend you are no good to anyone if you aren't taking care of yourself.

Now you have a Wicked Assignment: Sometime between now and Monday, do one special thing for yourself then report back here in the comment section. Make it good and be true to yourself, don't cater to anyone but you.

Examples: yell at someone, get a massage, Skype cyber (LMAO see Wicked Confused post, Skype is officially only safe way to cyber), have too many drinks, skull fuck obnoxious guy at a party (just for you), have a slumber party with Neil Patrick Harris

Look forward to hearing what you did, I know exactly what I'm going to do, can't wait to share with ya'............

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Wickedly Confused.........

That's right, confused. I am a fairly intelligent, probably above average, girl. I have common sense. I can follow in-depth conversations. I'm politically savvy. I can read, write, add, subtract, hell, I even know basic shapes. ;)

Today I was hit with one that caught me offguard, while talking to a friend, she suddenly announced that she had to go because her cybersex buddy had just logged on. Uhhhhh, hello, didn't you just, in essence, tell me you have to go masturbate??!! Mind you, I don't have a hang up about masturbation, but I rarely announce my intention to do so, nor do I require online assistance.

Upon further thought, this has left me puzzled on several levels. Cybersex buddy. How does that relationship develop? It is very modern, I would say. Hey, I don't want all the spam you get from porn sites, you don't want all the charges you have to pay, let's just help each other out here? Hmmmm. I like playing chess with you, you like playing chess with me, let's skype and pretend we're doing it?

What if you don't skype, just typing, aren't you risking pretend sex with a 90 year old man/woman, or worse, a 15 year old, well read boy/girl? OMG!!! I mean, really, I get the whole interactive porn aspect, I get the need for sexual stimulation, I'm all for it. I don't even mind knowing you do it. Just hoping I don't see you on the news because some 15 year old boys mom finally decided to look at his computer and found out he was having cybersex with a 30 something woman in another state, you cougar you. LOL

All so wickedly dangerous............

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Wicked Necessary Rants

I have been in quite a mood lately. I'm not a fan of winter, hate it really. Ususally I am a very happy person. I realized yesterday while doing some therapuetic shopping that I hadn't had a really good rant session in a while. Not going to really go full throttle today, just going to gently uncork a bit......

It's cold here right now. Perfect opportunity to cover up. Coats, scarves, gloves, hats, they cover a multitude of sins, really. I highly encourage them. Even if you don't think you need them, do a double take. Seriously. i just purchased a beautiful new purple scarf, it matches the Dooney purse I'm carrying today, but I was so tempted to offer it up to the woman standing beside me at the bank this afternoon. Random act of kindness? Ummm, sort of......what the hell were those things on her neck??? Why on earth wasn't she taking full advantage of the season to hide them???!!!

I have a friend who is a single parent(she's reading this, yes you), her son is adorable, well behaved, she makes him behave. I never have a problem with going to lunch with her and him tagging along. I do however really come close to losing my mind when I go to lunch with other adults only to find myself in a zoo like setting due to others inability to control their children. When did the "parenting by not parenting"method of parenting become so fucking popular??!!! Really?! This is our new plan?? Your teaching your kids right from wrong by repeatedly saying their names in a monotone voice. Great plan, let me know how that works out, won't you?

Stop hating on me because your husband is trying to talk to me. Newsflash!! I don't want your husband!! Never have, never will! This falls under the "he's your problem, I'm not" category. I don't flirt with him. I don't approach him when you aren't around. I don't do anything short of ignore him. You can't possibly be so blind that you don't see this. Get pissed at him, girlfriend, not me! In case you haven't heard, he's been chasing stray for years, you should be thanking me for being one of the few pieces that won't let him catch her!!

AAahhh, now time for some green tea and some online shoe shopping. ;) See all of you tomorrow. For those who have Twitter, there is a new link......

Monday, January 11, 2010

Manipulation, Why Wicked Girls Love It

Oh, take a breath. Yeah, yeah, we all know. It's a dirty ploy. It's also an age old, proven effective method. Slowly exhale my feminist friends, I promise you will still (sort of) love me when we are finished with this one. Let's face it, between the bumps, bruises and headaches from glass ceilings, handfuls of hair we leave behind from catatonic bitches who have forgotten we are all on the same side and the moronic assholes who haven't caught onto the fact that, yes, we are at least as smart as and some of us are, indeed smarter than he ever could hope to become, sometimes, it's in a girls best interest to just whip it out, so to speak. ;)

I will be the first to admit I have, on more than one occassion, suggested a trade of sexual favors for household chores. Wondering how this is manipulation? Easy! I'm a big fan of sex (see yesterdays blog) so obviously, I benefit as much as my partner, so, win/win for me, no chore and sex. MAJOR SCORE!! Feminists rejoice!! How is that for sexual empowerment??!!

Work wise, I prefer to keep it non-sexual.....ahem......that's my story, and I'm sticking to it......more the manipulation of being a valuable employee and using my value to my benefit. You need me to go out of town for a week at the end of the month, I need to work on this customers proposal. Let's make a deal.

Weak women are really the easiest to manipulate of all. They are so vapid at times it is like stealing candy from a baby. So busy trying to judge and gauge you, they forget the big picture. I am often the only mom to attend my kid's school functions in stillettos and dresses, which bothers neither myself nor my kids, but seems to perturb some of the khacki crew. One of whom decided to bring it to my attention one night. When it became blatantly obvious that she was trying, in front of about 6 other moms, to make me feel out of place for being dressed too well (WTF!!!??? Is there such a thing??) I smiled and said, "I'm so sorry, does me dressing like this make you feel a little, well, underdressed?" I purposefully said underdressed as if I had just uttered fuck in the middle of a sermon at a Southern Baptist convention. Her face immediately registered a shade of red that can only be described as a combination of fury and confusion unlike any I have seen before or since. Victory of wicked delight!

Therefore, I encourage manipulation, have presented my arguments for it and encourage your arguments against or some comments with examples of how you manipulated situations too!!
The internet says people are reading, I would love to hear from some of you!!!

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Summer of Wicked Enlightenment

How was your first sexual experience? Let me guess? Less than fantastic........? Well, this is my blog, as in all about me, so, back to me and mine was awful, really fucking awful. Like, OMG, did we just have sex?? kind of awful. Seriously, I didn't even know for sure that we had actually had sex. Come on, I was 14 years old. He was 21. We were kissing, then he was feeling me up, then there is a hand here, then a hand there, then a zipper slides here, then a hand slides there, then pants slide down a little, then some wiggling, then some more sliding, then some more sliding, wait a minute, why does that hurt so bad.......ok it stopped....why is he apologizing.....holy fuck.....did he just...OMG!!!! Yeah, that was my first sexual experience. Welcome to my most private moment. We are now officially BFF's. ;)

This was the sex I had for the first 6 years I was having sex. Hmmmmmmmm.... how ya think I felt about sex??? What's that? I can't hear you? Oh, ok, stunned silence. I understand. Well, let's just move on then.

Needless to say, once I was out of there, I was interested in what I read in Glamour. These things called orgasms and great sexual experiences. I was on a mission, determined, destiny was calling my name and I was ready to answer, hell I was screaming back, "Destiny, I'm coming bitch, and I've got stripper boots on!!!"

I set out my first summer of singledom with one goal, I had years to make up for and as I saw it, I onlyhad one summer to do it. I wanted to know what it was like to experience my own body, other people's bodies, learn to be unashamed (ex liked to enforce the no one else will have you, might as well face it theory of marraige). I had alot to do and I was giving myself one summer to do it.

I quickly built a network of friends around myself, male and female, friends who would be supportive of my cause, the males, who would be off limits and not to be slept with under any circumstances, would be confidants and protectors, the females would be cohorts and trusted advisors. Together we would conquer my goals, my fears and my deep seated psychological issues, no therapist needed. Wicked girls can often be their own therapist, we shall overcome ourselves with the right combination of friends, sex and tequila, not necessarily in that order.

My friends Jamie(guy) and Katie(girl) were by my side every step of the way, knowing EVERY detail, (poor Jamie) and loving me anyway, Katie maybe more because of it. I woke up with guys from bars, guys I went to high school with, my favorite was when I would get the hell out before I ever fell asleep. There was the night I hooked up with a guy on a car hood in the rain.......yeah, it was good...... there was the night that Jamie bet me a case of beer I couldn't get a guy who was notoriously shy (I am not a fan of beer but I LOVE a challenge). He bought the case, I got reallllllyyyyy laid. ;)

There was the night that one of our friends laid a $5 bill on the dash of the car and said "This goes to the first person who just randomly kisses somebody, gotta really kiss them and can't tell them why". Just about then a truck with two guys we knew drove by us, I said "Stop the car" So, Katie stopped, I got out, walked over to the guy driving, opened his door and kissed him, I mean, I kissed this poor guy. As soon as I stopped he smiles his best sexy little smile and said "What was that for?" I just grinned, winked, turned and walked back to the car. The 3 of us were laughing hysterically as we drove away. It takes a wicked girl to do something like that, the beauty being, the last time I saw him, he told me, with a big smile on his face, that he still remembers that evening I kissed him. Being wicked brightens other people's lives too, best I can tell.

At the end of the summer Katie and I did our best to make one of those infamous lists....the guys I have slept with lists. Of course, since I had married the only guy I had been with prior to that summer, mine included him and the summer's conquests. It was long. I was proud. It contained numerous descriptions (guy from Sparky's with black shirt). Some were Jason?. We laughed alot, agreed that the summer had been a success.

The summer of wicked enlightenment was a summer like no other. I learned to love myself. I learned that I could be myself, say what I really thought and felt and there would still be people who would love and accept me. I learned that I don't have to accept other people's judgements of me, just as important, I learned not to judge other people. I learned that people will talk about what I do, just as they made up stories about things I hadn't really done (which was sad, I was doing much more interesting things), I learned not to resent it, because I lead a more interesting life than most people. I don't resent that, I'm fucking grateful for it, poor bitches wish they led my life, stuck fantasizing about what I'm doing, let them talk!

Hear me on this aspiring wicked ones, for it is a most important lesson. Be as wicked as you wish to be, but always remember, wicked is vicious, fierce and roguish, but never judgemental, nor mean or spiteful. When you become any of those things, you have fallen from our ranks, become one of them. The spirit of wicked is playful. My wickedness grew from being judged by others, so respect others choices in their lives, whether they choose to be a mom and have a career or choose to stay at home. Choose to marry or remain single. Choose to have children or not have children. Choose to agree or disagree. Wicked is a matter of pride in self, in the decisions you have made. Pride in the life you lead. Pride in the people who stand beside you in life. Be wicked in your day, in this moment. To all of my friends, my loved ones, I am wicked proud that you walk with me...........and bitches we will walk on.......unless you show up in bad shoes......then your walking way the hell behind me.......... ;)

Saturday, January 9, 2010

The Beginning

That's where all things start, right? I tried to pinpoint when I became wicked, to properly find the beginning for you. Turns out, I just can't seem to do that, must have been a slow transition.

When I checked Websters dictionary (thanks boys) to see exactly how accurate my depiction of myself really was, I found some interesting things, according to the good book ( no offense to anyone here) wicked is as follows
1)morally very bad ( ummm, some might see this as a good possibility with me, I take issue with that, I see myself as very forward and fun to be around)

2)Fierce, Vicious: disposed to or marked by mischief: Roguish (ding! ding! ding! We have ourselves a winner, ladies!)

I won't even go on with the rest, literally because I stopped there. That was all I needed. Research completed, I settled into the next task. What was my first truly wicked deed?

This was simple. I was a nice quiet girl in school, good grades, took care of my younger brothers while my mom worked her way through college at night, then slipped up and got pregnant, oops!
Got married, I'm from Kentucky, ya'll, :), had a son, continued with correspondence courses, kept a household, raised a baby, played the part......

Then I found out I had cancer, at age 19. All bets were off. My parents and aunt were my rocks. They took me to my treatments and stayed with me during the hard times. "he" faded into the walls. (no, I didn't accidentally forget to cap the h in he" So, when I went into remission, I got a job. *gasp* "he" was mortified. "his" heretofore, do as she was told childbride was developing opinions and a mind of her own. Egads! What was a guy to do??!!

Wasn't too long before I left. How deliciously wicked it felt. In the pure Roguish sense of the word. Thus began my wicked adventures. Which I will sort through and share with you.

Have I mentioned he was my first sexual experience? Tomorrow I may begin to explain how a wicked girl spends one summer making up for that sort of thing.....................