Um, Stop It

So I was just in the middle of writing a post about a wine critic that came off like a self inflated, self important jackass and I did something I almost never do, I went back and reread my post…um, remind me never to do that again. I tend to be one of those, pound it out, tell your story, copy, paste, steal some pictures off the Internets, and post kinda gals. I don’t like reread the stuff I write, hell my typos and missing words should attest to that. Not sure what prompted me to look, must have been some form of self preservation…like that time I thought it would be sexy to take nude photos in the tub…dude, (head shaking) I’m just sayin’…dude. Anyway, I went back and read, started out good I think but as I continued reading I found myself saying, “What a self important, self inflated jackass”. Yeah so nothing all that new but I wasn’t feeling it tonight. Lost myself in mindless television, (God love it) and a whole new form of inspiration hit me…gotta just say

Stop It




This is Not cute, nor is it even funny at this point. It's gross, unsettling and might be the reason people think we’re jackholes



Anything that they call, "Lip Venom" or makes your lips swell up when you put it on, well this just sounds like a bad plan.


They are gone people, just like they were last year and the year before that.



Okay now this junk makes you grow eyelashes. Grow lashes and grow them darker...where the fuck have I been, this is a problem?! Man I gotta work on my girlie but damn, really? Now this stuff can cause a darkening of the lash line, (which can be fixed) and a browning of the colored part of the eye, (that cannot). Now let me get this straight...we are now willing to discolor our eyeballs and junk and for what? Is there some man or woman going, "Oh yeah, she's freaking smokin' but....those lashes. I'm out"????



Stop it..not him but YOU! If you are at all shocked that a wealthy man, and an athlete no less, is stepping out, well than you might consider growing up. Burns my ass and makes me wonder, "Are you mad that he did it or mad that You don't?" Plus he is smokin' hot, (just look at those lashes) and I don't know who wouldn't.



Ladies this is a sweet gesture, I like the idea I really do but....and I mean this in the nicest possible, (remember the bathtub photos) way, they don't go to those clubs because those girls really know how to work the pole. Not sure what they told you but, the real draw is not to see someone on a pole, it's to see someone ELSE on a pole....like nekkid and junk. If the reason you want to go to these pole dancing classes is to, "put a little spice" back into the ol' love life, than that's great, very cool and I tip my tie to your courage...but if the reason has anything to do with competition, let me just plant this little seed----imagine your sweet husband, all snuggled in the bed, little belly flap resting sweetly on the mattress, cute little hairs sprouting from his many moles. You love him, he is adorable, you have been through everything together...the house payments, the Holiday parties, (he loves those) the family dinners, the shopping, bill paying. That's love, that's commitment, so sweet and honest.

Now picture Brad Pitt, George Clooney or Denzel Washington, (I'll just use...oh, I don't know, Dave Matthews. C'mon Google alert) sitting on a bed, a bed with white sheets, in a pair of faded Levi's 501's, raising is strong powerful right hand, reaching over his left shoulder and pulling the white T-Shirt over his head....handing you a glass of Champagne and saying, "How's my gorgeous girl?".... as far as "fantasy" goes, see what I'm saying? In the ever brillant words of some dude, (Dave Matthews..Google Alert) "I'm not all bad but I'm a faithful sinner, I might get lost but I'll be home for dinner"