Multi-Tasking Is A Pain In The Ass...And Happy St Fucking Patrick's Day

Being a modern woman pretty much wears me the fuck out sometimes. Can I just cook and clean for like, a week? Wear some heels and pearls and have dinner ready? Without doing the whole kids running 14 places and blogging and classes and taking care of my grandfather and did people get cancer in the day of the Cleavers? By the way, who nicknames their son after their vagina? WTF?? Isn't that a little strange? Just sayin.

Oh yeah, Happy St. Patrick's Day.

I can't decide if I want a personal assistant or a maid. Really, both would be optimal. But, I'm trying to be reasonable. Well, reasonable might be overstating, but, more reasonable than usual, that's more like it. So, in an effort to be open, because some blog somewhere said bloggers are supposed to be naked,as in open about themselves(although I would way rather just sit here naked and make shit up, after all, I specialize in fiction writing) I hate cleaning, so I am leaning towards a maid. I love to cook, so she/he can just clean and do laundry, we have lots of laundry, like a ridiculous amount of fucking laundry. Between me, He Who Loves All Things Wicked, the 17 year old Narcissist, the 14 year old Drama Queen and the Irishman in the Basement, oh hell, I have never told you about the Irishman in the Basement, yeah, I have one of those. Doesn't everyone? Well, I do, no joke, it's not some sort of St Patrick's Day joke, I really do.

He's 18, he was a little bit homeless, similar to being a little bit pregnant or slightly dead, but more like kind of living in your truck because your prickish parents kicked you out of your house even though you were still in high school. So, we figured, hey, we have room, what the fuck, so, yeah, I have an Irishman in the Basement.

So, back to my predicament.......yeah, multi-tasking, taking care of everyone else, the house, the writing, the classes, the food, the friends. The thing is, it wouldn't be so bad, but inevitably, somebody feels the need at least once a week to express their feelings of disappointment that they aren't getting quite enough of my attention. Now, if this were one of my kids, I would be devastated, because obvs, they should get as much of my time and attention as they want, but NOOOOOO, it's not them, it's almost always somebody else. WTF??!!! You people are fucking adults!! Really!!??!! Take care of your fucking selves for a week or two.

Have I ever mentioned that I have insomnia, yeah, so for those of you not familiar with the concept, it pretty much means, no matter what time I lay myself down in my cozy little bed, I won't fall asleep until, oh, I don't know, 2am if I'm lucky. Have I also mentioned that He Who Loves All Things Wicked is on a totally fucked up rotation and we are getting up at 4:30am every day right now? Do the math....that's right, 2 1/2 hours of sleep, when I'm lucky. Some days, I do attempt to sneak in a nap, but, most of those days, people call me. Why do they call me, because of something earth shattering like, they are bored. Or, they want to know how to cook a turkey breast so it will stay juicy. But, because of my grandfather and my dad and because I have kids, I have to leave my fucking phone on. So, life is beautiful and I need Xanax maybe. Ya think??

Oh yeah, Happy St Patrick's Day.

It's also becoming increasingly difficult to stay up to date on the Healthcare Reform status, the NCAA brackets and my new favorite TV cartoon, Archer. See, I believe firmly and fully that it is ridiculous that we don't have a national healthcare system in place already and if we fail to pass one soon I may commit another partial murder. So it is important that I stay up on this situation.

My University of Kentucky Wildcats have finally employed a worthy coach and have a team of players who enjoy playing basketball again, thereby making it enjoyable to watch them play basketball again, so it is extremely important that I keep myself available to do this at every possible opportunity.

Archer is the raunchiest, funniest, naughtiest cartoon ever to hit broadcast tv, I couldn't ask for anything more. It is on FX and if you haven't seen it, you are missing out, watch it, you will be horrified and fascinated all at once. Just make sure there are no kids in the room! By no kids, I am talking no one under the age of, like, 21!! Yeah, it's that good!!!

Oh yeah, Happy Fucking St. Patrick's Day!

It's Wednesday, 5pm is the cutoff for this evening's Wicked Wednesday Q&A See you then!!

Room With a Wicked View

Why is it when you watch a porn video you see women with insanely large breasts and tiny waists, spindly legs, bare vaginas, lips that have usually been pumped full of collagen and nails entirely too long for anything other than, well, porn? But when you go to dinner with some friends and couples show up there are lots of normal women around the dining table. How did all these women, including yourself, ever land a guy? Clearly, these guys just settled for a pitiful substitute of their dream woman, right?

Every guy dreams of the porn star, right? She gives perfect blow jobs. She doesn't ask anyone to take out the trash. She touches herself at completely inappropriate times, which is a huge turn on. Obviously! She offers up her vagina and her ass to men and women indiscriminately. She is like a sexual toy who just leaks natural lubricant. What more could a guy want? Oh, and don't forget that she talks dirty, well, sort of. I mean, they aren't usually very convincing and they almost always look a little bored, but with those giant, perfectly shaped fake breasts, what man in his right mind is looking at her facial expression anyway?

Then, there is that perfectly shaped ass. Let's talk about that perfectly rounded porn star ass. Holy Hell, how badly would I love to have that perfect porn star ass. I mean, I have an ass. It's not giant, it's not tiny, but by no means is it that perfect porn star ass. Damn, to have THAT ass!! I am really beginning to think the only way to get that ass is to fuck for 12 hours a day. Don't get me wrong, I am willing to sacrifice and try that type of workout to attain that shape of ass. I envy that ass shape with everything in me.

But, back to my point, which is, how do the normal, or even slightly above average, but still below porn status, women of the world ever attain a man. Let's be honest, men in porn are sub standard almost as a standard. I've got 2 words for you to prove my point on this one. Ron Jeremy. What. The. Fuck. I wouldn't have done him with someone else's vagina. Come on now. But he got to fuck some of the hottest girl's alive at that time. As if! So, what gives. Men watch porn, women watch porn. Porn tells men that no matter how unattractive they are, ridiculously hot women will fuck them right and proper. How in the hell did they come to realize, at some point, that it wasn't true?

When do you think we showed them that this was a fallacy? That once again Hollywood was tricking them. Do they know it instinctively? Do they somehow believe the women with them are their own personal porn stars? Somehow I doubt that. I am curious about your thoughts on this one. Please do share!!

Wicked Girls....Probably Don't Meet Their New Man Online Because...

......this just isn't likely to be your dream guy.



Is it about your age group? That was proposed to me earlier this week. That my inability to grasp the concept of falling in love with someone and dropping my real world life to go be with someone I have never met had more to do with my generational issue. The fact that I didn't have a Blackberry in my hand at age 12, access to an internet chat room from birth. I gave this serious thought.

Then, I laughed my fucking ass off. Sorry, but I did. No, I really laughed at it. Here is the thing. The people I know who have done this have been of varying age groups. It's not about any sort of generational issue whatsoever. It is a social matter. People who are having a hard time meeting individuals in a normal social setting, for various reasons, are the one's who are doing this. Age is not the deciding or even a determining factor. From teens to late sixties, this decimating the generational argument. Thus bringing us back to a need for social interaction.

My point in the discussion, to catch you up to speed, is that you can't know someone, truly know them, until you have looked into their eyes, seen them, touched them, tasted them, words, while providing some insight, on the internet especially, can be carefully chosen or even stolen, therefore are unreliable. One could take on any persona they chose while on the internet and run wild with it. I find the possibilities frightening, really.

Let us not confuse the topic:

Reconnecting with former loves, as many are doing, or even building stronger connections with old acquaintances, through social networking sites such as Facebook is a different sort of thing.

Match.com or some of the other dating sites, where you briefly communicate with someone then start dating, also not what we are talking about here.

Let me be more specific and give a clear example of the type of relationship I am addressing here. http://www.cnn.com/2008/WORLD/europe/11/14/second.life.divorce/index.html
The really "special" thing about this story, Second Life, the virtual world featured here, is also a community that is very involved in Amnesty International, Global Warming Initiatives, Peace World Movement, some rather high minded stuff...you would think that it might have struck the creators that giving the avatars the ability to have sex (yes, the avatars can physically have sex and you can guide them through the motions, one of my author friends is an admin for the site and she has gone into great detail explaining for me) would at some point diminish the overall point of the site.

World of Warcraft, many relationships have blossomed between gamers.

Twitter, can you fall for someone in 140 characters or less? I dare say it is happening, over and over.

Chat rooms and online games are still flooded by lonely people who are hooking up and meeting up. With mobile access to their online sites, people never lose touch with their cyber loves. They feel as if they are tethered to one another, that final step to being together as natural as going to the grocery store.

But what happens when the fairy tale is over? When your on the doorstep. What happens when 6' tall is 5'8" and 180 lbs is really 215 lbs. When "likes to read poetry in bed" really just meant "likes to read the comics from this morning's paper"? What if that basement apartment happens to be under his mother's house? What about that wonderful surprise visit you decided to make after all this time only to have the door opened by the woman he's been married to for 15 years?

The real world is the Wicked playground. We are social creatures, if you aren't by nature, develop it, ease yourself into it, slowly force yourself. It provides you a safety net you will come to appreciate. The internet is a fun place to visit, but you don't want to live here, think of it as Mexico (sorry, but it's true, let's face it, no one wants to live in Mexico)

As for generations to come meeting their true loves online, maybe dating services will continue in popularity, but people inherently lie when given the opportunity, they just can't seem to fucking stop themselves, so no, I don't see the chatroom, game scene, virtual world becoming the "new" social mecca for hookups! That is the final Wicked Word on this one.

Like a Sex Aide, Only I spend More Money on Them

There has been discussion of my shoes here. There has been discussion of my shoes elsewhere. There have been questions regarding the effect of my shoes on my sex life. I have shared a poem and a sentimental tale of a gift given to me. I have shared a story written from me to a love of mine. I have even told a story of appearing in court without panties. I mean, hell, I've practically gone to third base with all of you at this point. So, I figure, you might as well meet some of my shoes. Now look, I have a big shoe closet, (okay, three, actually, yeah, it's true, three closets of shoes, not counting the ones stored carefully in one of those nifty little boxes that slides under the bed) so, I will take it easy on you. Not as if I'm just going to drag ya'll down to Munfordville for a big ol' family reunion. No, I will babystep it for you. Just a few, not even playing favorites. Just a random sampling.






I met these beauties last spring, we dated, walked along the streets of downtown Louisville, became friends. It's a casual relationship, but we always enjoy ourselves when we are together. Say hello to the nice people.












These girls are so lovely, they deserve two views. Sadly, looking at these views, it still just doesn't do them justice. Their gorgeous salmon color and seductive, choker collar effect above the ankle just doesn't come across in the photos. Going to have to take my word for it. H-O-T




I will just let these badass mother fucking shoes speak for themselves.











Oh yes, we met and fell in love at Derby '08 and have never looked back. Ours has been a fairytale romance of dinners, wine and dancing. Special times we have shared, you hold a special place in my heart and on my padded shoe rack.




















Sassy, right? The color alone is just begging for spring to come back, as am I. Hello??!!
















Oh come on, let's face it, these shoes are begging for a good night of "Detective Novel Role Play"





The dame walked in, looking like her sweater and that lipstick were made of the same wine I took a bath in last night, and now my head was swimming in it again...........





"brownchickenbrowncow" *props to Karlis*




So, now you have had a few preliminary introductions. Nothing too formal or fancy. I didn't break out any of the boots. Can you spot the designers in there? There are two pairs. Bonus points if you can spot which pairs of shoes and tell which designers they are.........

Wicked List of Things I Never Want To See Again.....

It's list time. Stop cheering. Calm down. I don't even know if I am that excited. Wow, I love that all of you get so enthusiastic. I really do. But, I just don't know how a girl is supposed to perform under this type of pressure. Oh, who am I kidding? I'm an exhibitionist at heart. I will be fine.

So, tonight/today's list is of thing's I never want to see again. So many ways one could go with this and you know me and my several different personalities, I am going to go all of them, well, maybe not all, but, yeah, most of them. Let's face it, I am diverse, my blogreading bitches. It's just how I roll. And roll we shall.....

Number 1 Thing I never want to see again: Ad for "Asian Teen Anal Foot Porn" Yes, you read that correctly. During an innocent *bats eyelashes to convince* search of blogs today and some various site engines and such, I clicked on the wrong thing, which then led me to click on another wrong thing, which then made me laugh, and well, okay, the next one I clicked on totally on purpose because it looked, well, funny but interesting, but then, there it was..."Asian Teen Anal Foot Porn" Still being a little weak in the stomach from the head injury, I didn't watch it, but can I just say, I don't ever even want to see that combination of words again. As if the words teen and porn don't bother me enough, let's throw in foot, okay, sorry. Let's go to number 2.

Number 2 Thing I never want to see again: A foot Yes, that's right. Any one's foot, I don't like feet. They gross me out completely. I hate feet in general. It might explain why I love shoes, or maybe it doesn't, I don't know. You know how people love baby's feet and kiss them and put them in their mouths? Yeah, so that makes me want to vomit. I said it. Not that I don't like babies, just that I don't like babies feet either. All feet are disgusting. If the sex is not really good and hot and I notice you just touched me with your foot, I just lost it, thanks, appreciate that, back to square one.

Number 3 Thing I never want to see again: Any movie ever made or that shall be made where a kid dies! Are you fucking kidding me?? At least give me a heads up on this stuff! Like something in the previews that says, "For you dipshits who haven't read the book and think these kids frolicking around look fun and carefree, one of them will DIE tragically" Whatthefuckever!! Bridge to Terabithia. Fuck. You. I despise you and all of the tears I, I mean my daughter, shed watching you. How dare you do that to me, err, my daughter? Moving on.

Number 4 Thing I never want to see again: The Informant starring Matt Damon What. The. Hell. Was. That.

Number 5 Thing I never want to see again: Naked Karaoke Remember this little treat from my trip to Nashville, where they lured us in with promises of naked karaoke but it was really just a sad little low rent strip club? Yeah, never want to see that again. I am all for going to the strip clubs with the group, but I really prefer to keep it on the high dollar end of town.

Number 6 Thing I never want to see again: That obese kid in the I Fuck On The First Date T-shirt It was mildly amusing, at best, the first time, then just sad, then it grew increasingly sadder until now, at which point it has become so depressing that everytime I see it I want to find the hole his mother lives in and beat the living shit out of her for letting her kid wear this shirt. Really??!! Of course the kid is smiling, he doesn't know any better, that shit is funny to a boy that age, he doesn't realize the whole world is laughing AT him, not WITH him. That is sort of what parents are for, to shield them from that sort of stuff. Epic fail!!

Number 7 Thing I never want to see again: People playing Texas Hold'em with their sunglasses upside down. Oh, don't you worry, not that I am anonymous here on my blog, but I have had this discussion face to face with Ed Hardy sporting bad boys at the poker tables too. One of whom felt that explaining the cost of said upside down sunglasses would somehow make him look like less of a douchebag. Not so, I pointed out, you merely look like a douche whose girlfriend wasted a lot of money. Know how to put an Ed Hardy sporting muscle bound Alpha male poker player on tilt and take all of his little chips away from him? *wicked grin* I do!

Number 8 Thing I never want to see again: The mullet as a popular hairstyle quite honestly, my head just isn't shaped quite right for it. Then there is the issue of the whole bang thing, I don't deal well with bangs. Plus, then men and women start looking alike. It's all very confusing to me. Please fashion god's, hear my pleas, don't do this, not again, never again.

Number 9 Thing I never want to see again: 5 hours worth of experimenting with a new art medium turn out to look like something one of my nieces could have done in 20 minutes. What. The. Fuck. Oh, before you other artsy peeps start doing the whole, that's what people said about...... No, trust me, it's shit, pure and utter shit. Laughable, really. So, I laughed, set it aside and will try again another day. But I reallyyyyyyy don't want to see that happen again. Gah!!

Number 10 Thing I never want to see again: A whole winter go by with no vacation from Kentucky I am a little spoiled. I don't like cold. Don't like (read, fucking hate, stabbity stab stab stab) snow, ice, cold rain. I am used to pampering with trips to Mexico and California in early February to get a break from this dreadful place. *deep, sad sigh* But not this year. No, this, our worst winter since, I don't know, my life fucking began (slight exaggeration possibly) I was stuck here. So no, I don't want to see that happen again. Ever.

There is tonight's list. Not sure how it reads. I will spellcheck and reread for coherency, but not changing content because I'm a rebel like that. ;-)

BTW, tomorrow is supposed to be the Q&A from formspring, so here's the deal, if you people, and you can ask anonymously, btw, don't ask me questions, then tomorrow I will post a blank page that says Wicked Wednesday's Question and Answers
Cause I give Good.........Answers. Don't test me people, I will do it. Now get thee to the top left corner and tap my box.

Not Trying To Hurt Your Feelings Or Anything, But Really..

All of my life I have heard people spouting these pointless little platitudes, hell, I've been guilty of doing it myself. During a conversation with a good friend earlier today we were mocking one such old saying and afterwards I couldn't help but spend some time thinking about the ignorance behind so many of them. Fundamentally breaking them down in my weakened mental state. So, here we go.

The grass is always greener on the other side. Okay, clearly this is meant as a warning to us that we shouldn't want what others have since just because we think what is over there is better doesn't make it so. Hey, dumbshits who still use this saying, we don't want their fucking grass. Well, I should rephrase, most of us don't covet anyone else's grass and if it's grass someone covets, they probably want it already dried and weighed. So, this saying is outdated, at best. Second, if your life is so shitty that you're sitting around envying someone elses proverbial grass, then yeah, their fucking grass probably is greener, so get off your ass and fertilize your own grass, for fuck's sake people, how long do you have to read this blog to realize Wickedness only comes when you stop feeling sorry for yourself and MAKE things happen. *dramatic sigh* Moving on.



Be careful what you wish for or you might get it. So, just to be clear on this, don't wish for herpes or you just might get it. Are we clear on that? Good. Seriously though. What.The.Fuck. I mean, who sits around wishing for something so detrimental that the minute they get it they go, "Whoa, this isn't what I signed up for, no, no, take it back please"? I have yet to meet that person. In general, the people I meet who made their wishes come true feel a sense of pride and fulfillment. Call me crazy, but I think this saying is bullshit.



Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. That sounds like a great idea. After all, we all want to be closely surrounded by people we know dislike us, right? Ill will and discord abound constantly. What better way to live our lives? How about we go with "keep your friends close and forget your enemies exist"? Yes, I like that much better. What the hell is an enemy anyway, don't those only exist in spy movies??!!



A watched pot never boils. Maybe this saying was made up before the existence of basic physics?? Whatever the case may be, let's try to decipher what the basic idea is behind the saying. I am working with it as, leave things be and they will develop as they should, but if you sit over them and fuss, you interfering will stop the natural progression. Yes? (I am seeing in my fuzzy little brain a collection of nodding heads) Right, so, here's the thing, the fucking pot is going to boil whether you watch or not, if something is meant to happen, it will happen whether you are there or not. Don't believe me, go boil some fucking water. Don't move, stare at that bitch the whole time, guess what? It's going to boil anyway!



Money can't buy happiness. Stop shopping at Walmart. Because one trip to Tiffany's will so change your mind. Bloomingdales makes my heart sing. Just seeing Jimmy Choo's updated seasonal info in my inbox makes me giggle. Trust me, it may not be love, but money can so buy happy!! You simply haven't been shopping in the right places.

I want to let you know that starting this Wednesday I will be doing Wicked Fun Wednesdays!! Submit a Wicked good question through the formspringme box in the right column, I will select 10 questions for the Wednesday post. I promise to make the answers worth coming to see. ;-) You just have to make them worthy of me choosing. Hope you are up to the challenge my Wicked readers.

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'............

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.....................