February 2013

One of my best friends was asked out on a date by a pretty cute guy.

I met him the night he asked her out.

We were both excited.

We felt like he had potential.

So they went to dinner.

And he showed her a picture of his penis before their server brought them the check.

Here are my thoughts…on that…

  1. Why would one store photos of their own genitalia on their phone? Unless they use said photos often, for instance – on first dates.
  2. Do men really believe women are turned on by the way a penis looks? Trust me fellas, we’re all glad our @#$% turns in. You don’t want to see our cervix.
  3. What kind of person can’t even finish a meal without showing their date a photo of their junk? She might have made out with you if you made it through dessert. Instead, she left you after the appetizer. Moron.
  4. Do women really fall for that? It must work on someone…or this fool wouldn’t keep that pic on his handheld device (pun intended).
  5. I’d kill to be present for a photo shoot like that. I do, but I don’t, want to know how one prepares for such an amazing glamour shot.
  6. If my friend would have been excited by that photo, would he have wanted to take her out again? Would that make her marriage material? Or not?
  7. Was he sober when he took that photo? It makes it that much better (better meaning worse) if he was.
  8. If this dude hands out photos of his stuff on the first date, what do you get if you make it to the second round? Video? Jesus.
  9. I suppose this is a double standard. He probably would have liked it if she had similar images stored on her phone, to hand out after the first course. But I don’t think I know any women that do that. I would not mind, at all, if that was the strategy one of my friends employed. But I don’t think we do that. I don’t think, on a whole, women do that. They don’t assume it’s ok to show you their lewd pics on the first date. Shouldn’t you at least wait until someone asks you to unveil your talent?
  10. What’s really sad is this isn’t even the worst date any of my friends have ever been on. They get more amusing than this. We’ve actually started giving each other zerberts, as adults, based on one story we heard. And that’s all I’m going to say about that.
I don’t have an appropriate photo to accompany this content.



Toy Story

February 25, 2013


This is going to sound a lot like a rant.

Ready. Set. Vent.

Are you broken? You’re broken. Aren’t you? You’re really broken. Because someone broke you. Your mother broke you. You broke yourself. Your ex broke you. You’re so broken. So seriously broken. I bet it’s so hard being so broken. How do your lungs manage to continue to inflate? They must also…be…broken.

GUESS WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!?

My favorite @#$%ing toys were broken.

Bed Buddy was broken.

He was a giant raccoon. He was almost the same size as me (when I used to sleep with him every night). And every one called him a bear. How do you think that made him feel? He was clearly a raccoon. HE HAD A GIANT STRIPED TAIL. But no one cared. No one took the time to notice. He had a complex because of it. He was broken. I slept with him every night anyway. I loved that raccoon. So much. I miss him right now. I have no idea where he is. I can’t believe I ever lost or got rid of him, if I did. Maybe my mom still has him tucked away somewhere. She’s great at stuff like that.

Peaches n’ Cream Barbie was broken. Because she got in a terrible car accident and had to be rushed to the emergency room. The surgeons wrapped her in medical (Scotch) tape. When Ken finally removed the bandages, she was left with black residue all over her body. So, she took a bath in the washing machine. It ruined her dye job. And her fake hair. From that point forward, she was broken. Crystal Barbie was my bitch after that.

Ken was also broken. He only had one outfit. A pair of shorts. Denim shorts. When he sat down, they would unbutton. You could see his butt crack. And his junk. He must have had major issues then. He probably still does today. I have no idea why I never asked Santa for more clothes for Ken. PROBABLY BECAUSE I PREFERRED KEN BROKEN.

Fred was broken. Yep. My favorite teddy bear. Fred. He was broken too. I sucked on his face most of my life. And wound the music box in his a$$ for a decade or two. He didn’t stand a chance. I’m not even sure if he had both his eyes. I didn’t care. That rough-around-the-edges bear was the love of my life.

The Christmas Dog was also broken. But through no fault of his own. I’ll give him that. Ashley broke him. She hung him from the sorority stairwell, by a noose. Who does that? He was scarred. For life. I loved him anyway. I still own him today. Even your noose couldn’t kill our love, Sister Overley.

What’s my point?

My point is…


If you want to pretend you aren’t broken OR you’d like to believe/act like you’re more broken than the rest of us, you’re a giant a$$hole. You’re not THAT special. None of us are (I act like I am…but that’s just for show).

Let’s face it, broken toys are the best. In fact, they’re the only kind of toys. They’re the toys you remember. They’re the toys you don’t forget. They’re the toys you hold on to for dear life. They’re the toys you clench in your fist until there is literally only one thread left.

If you’re not broken, you’re boring. And momma’s not in the business of being bored.

So don’t be ridiculous.

Own it. Potato Heads. And let us put your arms in your head holes. For laughs.





February 14, 2013


This is for you.

This is for every time you picked up my pieces. And there were so many pieces.

There are STILL so many pieces.

There is only one way out. It’s THROUGH.

There is actually BEAUTY in the BREAKDOWN.

It won’t be pretty. You will hate you. But you will have to hate you – to love you again. So hate you honey. @#%ing hate you. And if you want, @#$%ing hate everyone, and everything, else. The things, and the people, that matter most…will be there in the end. Your daughters will be there in the end. They will appreciate your vulnerability AND your strength. Show them it’s ok to breakdown AND rebuild. Because we won’t let you forget to rebuild. Just like you didn’t let me forget to rebuild. We won’t let your stubborn, mouthy, stank a$$ self forget to REBUILD.

You know more about me than anybody should (take it to the grave bitch). And you choose to love me anyway. So just let go. Admit this is all happening. There is nothing you can do about it. Relax. Get through it. Love you anyway. Come out on the other end. That is actually the only choice you have. That is the only choice I’m giving you. Because that is the only choice you gave me. I’m returning the favor. We will love you anyway.

I don’t know why you were taught what you were. Or why you’re being taught what you are. But you have no control over it. You didn’t then. And you don’t now. Just accept the teachers that have been given to you, good AND bad. They’re all teaching you SOMETHING. We’re always being taught SOMETHING. Whether we want to be taught, or not. The more you try to resist this lesson, the longer you’re going to be in pain. Learn it, whatever it is…and get the @#$% out. You can. And you will…if you’re willing to go THROUGH.

We’re masochists, you and I (we’re a lot of things, you and I) – but we’re not stupid, or insane (most days). Feel the pain. You like it. So do I. Just admit you like it. So do I. And get on with your life. Because you deserve it. So do I.

I know it’s strange to be taking advice…from me. I know, after last year, you probably feel like you shouldn’t be taking advice…from me. But, I’m getting – through. I’m trying so hard. And if I can. So can you.

I just read a book that compared me to a hopeless, soulless, bloodsucking vampire. If it makes you feel ANY better, there may be no hope for me, but I feel like there’s more than hope for you.

Lastly, I haven’t had much to write lately. Not sure why. So much has changed, so fast. My moods have been all over the place. Dark, and light. Maybe that’s it. But when I saw Rihanna perform this song, I knew she had to be a part of my next post. I don’t think it’s a coincidence, at all, that you and I both love her like we do. And I appreciate, more than you will ever know, that you don’t mind that I love – the way I do.

I hope you’re getting some sleep tonight lady.

If not…a lullaby of sorts. I’ll leave it at that.

Stay (Rihanna, feat. Mikky Ekko)

All along it was a fever
A cold sweat high-headed believer
I threw my hands in the air and said, “Show me something,”
He said, “If you dare come a little closer.”

Round and around and around and around we go
Oh now tell me now tell me now tell me now you know

Not really sure how to feel about it.
Something in the way you move
Makes me feel like I can’t live without you.
it takes me all the way.
I want you to stay

It’s not much of a life you’re living
It’s not just something you take – it’s given

Round and around and around and around we go
Oh now tell me now tell me now tell me now you know

Not really sure how to feel about it.
Something in the way you move
Makes me feel like I can’t live without you.
it takes me all the way.
I want you to stay.

Oh the reason I hold on
Oh cause I need this hole gone
Funny you’re the broken one but I’m the only one who needed saving
Cause when you never see the light it’s hard to know which one of us is caving

Not really sure how to feel about it.
Something in the way you move
Makes me feel like I can’t live without you.
it takes me all the way.
I want you to stay, stay.
I want you to stay, oh.

Te Amo,


Disclaimer: In case you were concerned, Lori tweets A LOT about her emotions. This blog should not be blindsiding. 

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