Filed under: Posts | Tags: Christmas, family, fiction, humor, life, Middle-Age, new year, sex
Happy post-holiday food and drink orgy – and welcome to a new year of ways I can embarrass myself (and sometimes my family). It’s been a long hiatus from this collection of stupid things I think about and do, but in the immortal words of Randy Quaid….I’m BAAAAACK!
Now many of you know I can be forgetful. I blame it on age; some in my house would say I have ADD and should stop calling the kettle black. Either way, this Christmas my memory played a trick on me of epic proportions.
A few weeks before Christmas, Hubby went on an on-line buying spree and accidentally kept sending things to Daughter #1’s (D1) house. So, he asked her to bring them up for Christmas, hoping against hope she wouldn’t open the one that had some female “enhancement cream.” (Now, before you start getting all red and judgmental, remember that we’re in our 50s and have been together for 35 years. Sometimes you have to shake things up.) D1 said she would. For the next three weeks Hubby festered and worried that she would open the package.
“Do you think she opened it?” he asked me at least once a week.
“No, she wouldn’t. She knows it’s for Christmas,” I would reply.
Meanwhile, said daughter called me as soon as it came and asked if she could wrap it up, along with the other things, and put them under the tree from Santa – and surprise her dad. Knowing that the girls and their very significant others would be there, I laughed and said yes. This Christmas was already super weird, so why not make it epic?
And then I instantly forgot about it.
The day finally came to open presents with the kids. The tree was beautiful, the fire was lit, and we were all taking turns opening our gifts (yes, we’re that kind of family). I reached for a small gift that was to me from Santa and opened it. Inside was a pretty pink tube of cream. Without thinking I sniffed it (peppermint) and proceeded to rub it all over my hands, thinking it was hand lotion. I glanced at D1 and she was looking at me with horror. Then she covered her mouth and started laughing. Hard.
It took a couple of seconds before it clicked.
Oh shit…it’s THE CREAM!!
I looked at my greasy hands and started laughing, too.
D1 had to explain what was so funny to everyone else. D2 was also horrified but somehow didn’t seem surprised. I don’t know if I just no longer shock her with how dumb I can be, or if she knew about it. Hubby was totally confused for a second and then just asked if it worked.
I never looked at the boys to see what their reactions were – but I’m pretty sure that was not on their holiday wish list.
Here’s the answers to a few FAQs I’ve received after sharing this story:
- No, it didn’t make my hands warm and tingly
- No, I haven’t tried it in its official capacity, mostly because I DON’T KNOW WHERE IT IS. But, I swear to God If the kids have taken it and are going to mail it to me again, that will start a war that I will win.
- Yes, we have updated the delivery address.
- No, I still haven’t found out what the boys think. I don’t want to know. But I can safely say they just got a peek into the level of crazy we are currently operating on.
So, happy New Year everyone! 2025 went out with a tingle…and rest assured, I’ll be ordering my Prevegen shortly.
Filed under: Misc. Humor, Posts | Tags: adulthood, book review, books, fantasy, fourth wing, humor, romance, sex
It’s been a long time since I became obsessed for a while with Outlander, which was and still is a years-long session of girl porn. (For more on the girl porn part, read Chick Flick Fail). I needed something new. Sometimes a girls gotta find a steamy romance novel, get yo the hood parts and look up panic-stricken in the middle of reading it to see if anyone can tell you’re reading girl porn (they can’t).
So, I was on BookTok the other week (for you non-TikTok people that means I get a lot of people recommending books in my TikTok video feed), and a woman in her 30’s was recommending various romance novels. I was intrigued.
One of the books she recommended was Icebreaker by Hannah Grace. She did say up front that the cover was misleading, and that the back cover summary sounded like a young adult romance: a college Olympic-bound ice skater had to have the ice hockey team captain step in to be her partner, and of course they hated each other on sight – until they didn’t. Pretty cheesy, right? How, I thought, is someone actually recommending this book?
Even the cover had a young adult style to it (see below). Not a raised, cursive letter or barely covered breast in sight.
She also said it was the hottest thing she’d read in a long time….like 50 Shades of Gray hot. I thought, ok, this lady clearly is not as well-read as I am and doesn’t know good girl porn when she reads it. I’ve read dozens of raised-letter, Highland/Pirate/Cowboy romances with lots of heaving and throbbing body parts. I read the True Blood series, and in between some historical fiction and very dry non-fiction I’ve read other erotic-ish books that occasionally had a plot worth following. Despite my better judgement, I bought Icebreaker to take on vacation, figuring that if I didn’t like it I’d leave it in the hotel.
Sweet Jesus.
I hope no high schoolers buy it, thinking they’ll get a glimpse into real college life. Aside from completely unrealistic descriptions of dorms, college athletic programs and schedules, when I was in college none of the boys knew a tenth of the female anatomy this guy did. Not only could he find it on the first try, he had a level of restraint no college boy has ever had, at least according to every college girl I talked to.
I also bought another book currently #1 on the New York Times Fiction Best-Seller List, called Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros. I love a good fantasy novel, and this one has dragons, star-crossed lovers, lots of magic, poisoning, violent death and epic battles. For those of you who aren’t fantasy readers, these books are usually plot-driven and have minimal sex in them. They might have a romantic sub-plot, but it often involves a chaste kiss or is only there because in the past it was the driving force for why two kingdoms are fighting.
Fourth Wing is different – it has both a fast-moving plot and explicit sex. I can see why it’s on the best-seller list. In fact, I can’t wait for the movie to be made – it will be SPECTACULAR and you’ll want to see it on the big screen. But again, not the young adult fantasy I thought it would be.
I was about half-way through the book, and there had been a few teasing, steamy almost-kisses, the kind where you know it’s going to be epic at the end when they get together, but you won’t actually read about it. You know, like Aragorn and Arwen in Lord of the Rings.
Holy shit.
There wasn’t any waiting until the end of this book for the off-screen romantic union. Xaden and Violet had back-against-the-wall, break-the-armoire, light-the-curtains-on-fire sex half-way through.
Five times.
In one night.
With explicit descriptions straight out of the old Hustler “Readers Letters.”
Oh, and like all romance novels no one had to pee…ever.
And I was listening to this book on the way to visit my 86-year-old mother.
I had to drive a little extra to reach the climax, er, end of the chapter before I got to her house.
Let me tell you, nothing will kill that rush faster than seeing your little, old mom waving at you from her front door. Xaden and Violet had to take a mental cold shower so I could focus on showing Mom my vacation pictures.
I’m not sure what’s happening in the publishing world, but don’t choose your books by covers and back-page summaries. And don’t listen to the reviews, either. Despite some negative reviews (and their points were legit), I loved Fourth Wing and am waiting for the sequel to come out in November.
I think Fourth Wing will be like when Daughter #1 called me after watching the first season of Outlander:
“Mom,” she said, “I love it, but I will NEVER watch it with you.”
Same girlfriend, same.
I was recently at the bookstore flipping through magazines the other day, and I was startled at how many articles were about how to have a better sex life. Most of them had pretty straightforward titles, like “How to Jump Start Your Sex Life” or “How to Tell Him/Her What You Really Want.” But there were also a few articles that went beyond the usual suggestions, offering meditations and all kinds of exotic positions. All I could think was, people…relax.
We’re pretty basic, even with all the social complications we’ve added on top of it all, compared to the banana slug.
For starters, all banana slugs have penises, although some appear to be mere stumps, as opposed to growing the length of the slugs body. That’s right – the banana slug’s penis is 6 -8 inches long, the length of its body…so yeah. If I saw that on a human, I’d run. I know we can do a lot with prosthetics, but….no…just no.
Oh, and did I mention that the penis grows out of its head? So actually, before I ran, I’d probably laugh because that’s just too damn funny not to try and picture on a human, especially someone you don’t like.
Second, when these slugs with complete genitalia have sex (not the ones with the stumpy penises – we’ll get to that in a second), they both penetrate each other at the same. I know we’ve made all kinds of toys that can simulate that, but banana slug sex goes on for HOURS. I don’t care how much Sting may brag about his performance (I believe he’s said he and wife Trudy had 7 hours of tantric sex); he’s got nothing on the banana slug.
And finally, after they’re done, one slug may get it into its “head” that it must chew off the other’s penis. So much for that moment of bliss. Why would they do that, you ask? I’m sure some women and men can think of some pretty compelling reasons why humans might do it. Scientists have come up with several theories about why this happens, including that the slugs may feel threatened by something in their environment and need to separate quickly. Can you imagine this happening every time human parents tried to get a quickie in without the kids knowing? There are other theories too, but I don’t really care. That’s just gross and rude.
So, people, relax about where you fit in the sexual world around you. Stop taking quizzes to see if you measure up – if banana slugs are anything to go by, none of us do.
Filed under: Exercise, Misc. Humor, shopping | Tags: catalogs, clothes, Comicon, dungeons and dragons, fantasy, magic, marketing, relationships, romance, sex, shopping
If people judged me by the catalogs I receive, they would probably say I am a woman somewhere between the age of 12 and 75, I prefer being athletic outside (true), I occasionally have an interest in high-end hunting attire (nope), and I may have a fetish for dressing like I play Dungeons and Dragons (also no).
It’s the last catalog topic that I find the most fun. The Pyramid Collection catalog, which I receive because I somehow got on a list, is a clothing catalog for wanna-be wiccans, female Renaissance Faire attendees, and those on the fantasy side of Goth (not the EMO, skeletal, dyed black hair and white-face makeup Goths). It bills itself as “Myth, Magick, Fantasy & Romance.” All true, if your idea of romance is to meet fellow wiccans wearing flowing blouses with lacy sleeves (think Seinfeld’s “Puffy Shirt”),
you want to meet prince charming after a joust at your local Medieval Times,
or your idea of fantasy is to meet a fellow enthusiast at ComiCon while waiting to do a meet-and-greet with the cast of Outlander or Game of Thrones.
But the most interesting thing about this catalog is that right in the middle, where the staples are and where it falls open is a double-page spread of a variety of sex toys for women. So, in addition to buying the many fantasy-related accoutrements, you can also purchase some toys to help you relieve the loneliness that apparently is assumed will follow the initial purchase. It’s genius, really – cater to women’s fantasies, then cater to them not panning out – all in one catalog.
Perhaps other catalogs should follow suit, in their own way: Athleta and LuLu Lemon could also put a spread in their catalogs that include the inevitable cheese boards, pizzas and wine that somehow seem to follow those departed New Year’s resolutions.
Men’s catalogs could offer sleek suits and upscale weekend wear, but also include a spread with wings, onion rings and a selection of porn (not that I condone porn in any way) when the suits don’t hide the douchey-ness beneath, and they once again are seated with their buddies on a Friday night at BW3s instead of out on a date.
I just can’t believe this marketing trend hasn’t caught on before – addressing the “Who I Want to Be” part of the customer, as well as the “Ok, This is Who I Am” portion, all in one place.
Land’s End is gonna have to step up their game.
Filed under: Middle Age, Misc. Humor | Tags: cybersecurity, email, Middle-Age, relationships, sex, spam, technology, Viagra
One of the things I do every day that brings me great joy is to look at the spam that comes into my email. According to the non-retail emails that get filtered (thank you, awesome security keep-that-crap-off-my-computer software) I am a middle-aged man who:
- is very helpful and willing to take lots of sketchy, unidentified meetings;
- is very, very lonely;
- is very, very horny;
- is bisexual;
- but can’t get it up;
- has hard muscles;
- is confident (according to my eyes);
- likes red wine; and,
- is dumb enough to go meet someone randomly with the promise of “good sex now.”
My favorites are the ones where the English is a bit…iffy:
“One doze is enough even for 60-years-old…”
“Your girl will really need a lotion!”
“With our pilules (that’s how it was spelled) you will have more energy”
“Perhaps you will come into a rage, but…”
And my personal fave: “Oh, it seems I’m ready to be yours today.”
Really? It seems you’re ready? That just sounds like you’re surprised that you would be attracted to me. You also don’t seem to be in control of your body, as if your body has just let you in on a little secret. I can’t imagine going up to some guy in a bar and whispering in his ear, “It seems I’m ready to be yours today,” like I was hanging about, preparing myself for the day I’d finally meet him. (Oh, I’d still get laid, because it would be said to a guy, but the slightly puzzled, matter-of-fact delivery just makes me giggle.)
Listen spammers, if you really want a middle-aged mom to open your emails, use phrases like this:
“I’ll just lay here and let you read until you fall asleep.”
“I’m the guy who’ll load the dishwasher.”
“Teenagers – WTF?”
“Mom, I’m sorry but they made me do it…”
“Cute dog pictures.”
“Free coffee.”
“Free wine.”
“You’re right – I’m sorry.”
“Outlander is coming to [YOUR TOWN HERE].”
“Huge Costco sale is on!”
Subourbon Mom 