Okay, I know I promised to reveal all that is “Frenemy” in my life today, but something came up.

We were at dinner and I was showing the boys at the table my friend Crissy’s blog, because in it she had a “Nut Bra” video from You Tube and it was actually relevant to a conversation that we were having regarding what happens AFTER some surgeries and not to divulge too much, but SOMEONE, we’ll call him “Moe”, was revealing A LOT over a couple of wines and some ribs.

Anyway, it made me think of this:

Now besides the fact that Tina Fey and Amy Poehler are running around with AXES and eating entire CAKES, and making out with DOGS, the boys thought the best part is that a side effect might be the growth of a 2nd vagina.

Yes.

I could be completely mental with a tail and sporting some Lizzie Borden accessories, but add in a 2nd va-jay-jay, and it’s all cool.

boys. r. dumb.

And so, as PMS ravages my body with a blazing fury of 1000 suns, I decided on a little Monday morning catharsis.

Because as me n’ my friends will attest to, “If you have nothing nice to say…come sit with us!”

Here is a top 10 of my favorite customers from the eatery, in no particular order:

1. To the guy who can’t open his mouth to order because his “grill” might fall out: Baby Jesus designed you to have your own teeth Idiot…please take your “Hustle & Flow” elsewhere.

2. To the woman in the high to the side ponytail complete with metallic scrunchy: Tonight we’re serving a side of the NEW MILLENIUM. Please look at Vogue and know that you look like a lop-sided unicorn from 1987.

3. To the 60+ woman wearing BEBE in rhinestones across your rear with a silver sequined tank top: No words…trying to put my eyes back into my head.

4. To the old man who thinks that because he tells me he “tips well” he can treat me like s%&!: You are a bastard and I hope you choke.

5. To the family that refuses to speak a word of English: I sing you the National Anthem…please remember WHAT COUNTRY YOU ARE IN!

6. To the people that refuse to tip more than 10%: Please just stay home.

7. To the woman in the lavender unitard, complete with pleats all the way around the princess waist, with strappy white sandals, and platinum hair down to your waist at 72: Thank you. You are a tribute to 1982 for all of us.

8. To the parents who think their child crawling around is “so cute”: It. Is. Not.

9. To my manager, who thinks that posting letters from customers around the kitchen about the great job he did makes us think more of you: It only confirms the douche we know you are.

10. And finally, to the servers who think that I am “cool for my age” & a “cougar” at the ripe old age of 34: Thank you. A woman in her prime should not go unnoticed.

Okay, I am back from hiatus. Mostly due to the fact that my BFF Crissy has me “guest-blogging” (so go check me out there!) for her while she is waking up with a hangover attempting to get a tan (instead of her period) on vay-kay. At least I am not jealous. That’s the kind of good friend I am.

And so, you may or may not know that in an attempt to save some Benjamins I presently have a part-time gig in a “polished casual” (their term…for real) restaurant. The funny thing is that I find myself the OLDEST server in the establishment–which is beyond comprehensible and has me sometimes drunk in the corner sobbing wondering exactly how my life is really turning out…but I digress.

Have you hung around 20-something guys lately? I’m not sure it’s any different than hanging around with your average pre-adolescent boy, only minus Drakkar/Polo Sport and add the Aqua de Gio (which actually makes me want to lick them because that aroma just makes me want to do that), with more body hair and possibly a driver’s license.

Here’s the thing. I spent just about the whole of my 20’s in an attempt to impress the aforementioned. When we all were playing it cool and going out for “girl’s night” you know that my attempts to pick the right outfit, have the right hair, shave everything, was definitely not to impress my bff. No, for me, the best night ever would be the night that I casually strolled in with my gf’s and found my prince waiting for me in full view of the gf’s.

As you can probably guess I was GREAT at dating…but that’s a whole different story.

So how do my 20’s compare to the boys of today–and where is my point?

I’m glad you asked.

Now that I am fully invested in my 30’s (and totally in my prime), I am looking at these dudes and thinking…WTF was I trying to impress?

Want to know what impresses them?

Let me show you.

This actually made a few of them “rethink their life” and they could not believe that such a miracle existed and that they hadn’t thought of it before, and “HOW MUCH TIME HAVE I WASTED NOT DOING THIS?!” (complete with head in hands for emphasis).

Yes, making BONER on a dollar bill is what had every guy agog. (And if any of you boys are thinking “that’s AWESOME” shame on you too.)

What troubles me most is that once upon a time I let these same idiots put their you know what’s, you know where (I would say, but I am much too virginal), and if BONER is what impresses them then I don’t know what I was thinking.

Ironically, if I had known this then, I probably would have shaved BONER into my pubes just to be the most popular girl in school…

Note to Self: In next life do NOT try to impress boys, EVER. And if at all possible, be a lesbian.

or, Why I sit alone at the movies.

1. Meet Joe Black–is there anything more laughter inspiring than Brad Pitt being hit by a bus? I wore out my VHS tape rewinding that scene! That’s just good entertainment.

2. The 6th Sense: “Don’t tell me it tastes funny. You know mommy doesn’t like that.”–Nothing says home cookin’ like a little Drano Surprise!

3. Pulp Fiction–I love when that guy gets shot “by accident” in the back of the car…it makes me laugh every time when the blood hits Travolta in the face.

4. Willy Wonka (the new one)–”If you leave now, don’t expect me to be here when you get back.”–Not only is the father gone…but the ENTIRE ROW HOUSE is missing! I couldn’t believe no one else got the joke!

5. The Cell–I LOVE when Vincent D’Onofrio is hoisting up intestines via crank system…I can’t imagine why was I the only one laughing…

6. Silence of the Lambs–”It rubs the lotion on its’ skin…or else it gets the hose again. That’s right Precious it will get the hose! (Ruff!)”–classic.

7. Hannibal–I horrified audiences when I laughed out loud when Anthony Hopkins ate brains out of Ray Liotta’s head…not a crowd pleaser.

8. Hannibal–Again? I know, but I just COULDN’T BELIEVE my eyes when he fed the face to the dogs…laughter so innapropriate…

9. Brokeback Mountain–seriously, I thought all those “sticky fumblings” in the tent were going to make me pee my pants. I’ve heard better noises in a Porky’s movie…”I can’t quit you”–didn’t he sound just like Billy Bob Thorton in Switchblade? “I like the way YOU talk…”

10. Finally, I would love to give a shout-out to ANY movie where Betty White uses profanity or racial slurs. It’s like listening to my Grandma every time and I just can’t wrap my head around it…so I laugh.

I watch with anticipation as they scan over the bodies…I ooh and aah with delight as they rub up and down in gentle swirling motions…the camera pans over hands, legs, and bodies and I can’t look away from the exhilarating heat on the screen.

My eyes are fixated on the supple skin, the smooth breasts, the ample thighs…

Then the massage of oils…

Finally, the plunge–entering into every orifice voraciously over and over again…filling up until almost bursting…

can’t. stop. watching.

I feel like I’m in the room…everything turns visceral…I imagine with all my senses: feeling like a voyeur, almost tasting, wishing to touch, wanting to smell, listening to the triumphant sounds of glory when it is finished like a bell ringing…

Gasping just a little bit and biting my lip as the completed act fills the screen.

Running to the computer to see if I can download more like a drug addict needing a fix…

I HAVE to have that…..

cornish hen recipe.

Food Network = Food Porn

What did you think I was talking about?

I have literally died and gone to heaven. Sweet baby Jesus, I have seen it all!

Today, at a picnic, I was privy to the “dressy wife beater.”

Oh, life is complete.

Here’s the commentary in my head:

“And next we have Mike, ready for any redneck romp. This silky number is a must have for any event, from tractor pull to WWE front row seat. Don’t let it fool you though, this is 100% pure polyester–why look how it clings to his beer belly…you can tell he’s worked hard on that one! Paired with Levi’s in a light blue vintage stonewash jean (circa 1987) you can be sure that he’s tailgating with the best of the Bud drinkers on his way to the next “Whitesnake” concert. Finally, check out the accessories– 100 keys hooked onto his belt loop that jingle every time he takes a step. No misstep here Mike…that’s pure country.”

This was not your ordinary Hanes 100% cotton number.

I don’t think I even need to talk about the missing tooth do I?

I so wish I could have taken a picture…But the imprint will be forever tattooed on my brain.

These are the sweet moments I live for!

1. Why can’t the hair on my head grow as fast as the hair on my legs?

2. Why wasn’t I born independently wealthy?

3. Why is it that thin people were given speedy metabolisms?

4. Why does it seem like your family is always nuts, but you aren’t?

5. Why does anyone care about Britney Spears?

6. Why does my daughter think that poking me in the head is an appropriate way to wake me up?

7. If “Mother knows best”, does that now mean me?

8. Why are the elderly given drivers’ licenses if they can’t see over the steering wheel?

9. And if they can’t even see, then how do they know the EXACT moment to cut me off?!

10. Who coined the phrase, “It must be noon somewhere”? And why couldn’t they have said 9am?

I guess I’m having a week of introspection. And after much pondering I have decided to come clean…I have a crush on William Shatner.

To clarify, it’s not the young Star Trekking Bill that I’m after. I find him too pompous, and a man-whore. At the very least, too much tribble, I mean, trouble.

TJ Hooker? What can I say, I’m not into cops. Based on photos, it would seem that I was not the only 80’s puffy hair victim, and he’s very serious–I realize that sliding across car hoods and doing cop things isn’t all fun, but you’re starring with Heather Locklear for goodness sake…and where is Adrian Zmed now anyway? But I digress…

Ahh, here he is. You see, it’s the Over-the-Hill, proud toupee wearing, Boston Legal acting, self-deprecating, pudgy, almost retiree that I’m after…..referred to lovingly by The Boy as, “The Shat”.

Okay, let’s do the rundown: He’s rich, famous, funny, reasonably good looking, an author, entrepreneur and singer–and he’s Bill Shatner! He’s his own lounge act! Who could ask for anything more?!

Nothing made me smile more than seeing him hobble across Oprah’s stage (just coming from a hip replacement) and listen to how he Tivo’s her and now looks at his own poop thanks to Dr. Oz.

He’s adorable.

Okay, time to ‘fess up.

I love online gaming.

No crazy Dungeons & Dragons or role playing…

Dear Clarice, my pathology’s a thousand times worse.

It’s Scrabble & word games.

I can’t even help myself.

I love winning–and even better, being accused of cheating–as I use my extensive education to wield and manipulate random letters into 5, 6, or even 7 letter words (the latter also involves bonus points!).

It’s pathetic, I know.

But if you’ve played games with me, I have to admit, I am a bad loser and a worse winner–think Grace Adler (from Will & Grace) with a very annoying version of “I Win! I Win! I Win!” shouted after every victory.

I think I’m hard wired this way.

It’s no wonder that I have to sit by myself and play in front of a screen.

Just know that there is help for me yet–writing this interesting diversion has cut down on the wasted time immensely.

I’m even thinking of trusting gravity enough to get off my computer chair to venture outside, meet new people, make new friends…

Maybe they’ll even want to play a game.

Is it just me, or are there others out there in cyberspace WITHOUT any tattoos? Please make yourself known!

Good Grief.

Here are some of my personal, south of the Bible Belt, favorites:

1. A pair of legs with red high heels–one on the inner arm, one down the body, all leading to some idiot’s hairy armpit…….nice. Can’t you just hear “Sweet Home Alabama” in the background?

2. Picture it: White Guy, both calves, WHITE on one, POWER on the other…as a sidenote, his ASIAN wife walking proudly beside him wearing a strip club tee-shirt and his daughter was a beautiful blend of the 2 morons……there are so many people that want babies, yet these a$%*&!@’s have no problem pro-creating…hmm, because of the irony of the situation, does that make them oxymorons?

3. Looney Tunes……why do people seem to think that Yosemite Sam, the Tasmanian Devil, or Tweety Bird belong on their body forever?

4. Disney Characters……no word of a lie, I JUST saw a 6-8 diameter Holiday Wreath, on yet another calf, with Mickey, Minnie, Donald, & Pluto wishing Merry Christmas. Merry Christmas FOREVER. Maybe it’s a Florida thing.

5. Spiderweb Elbows & Teardrops…..I know that some fool will probably come after me on this one, but SERIOUSLY?!

6. Panthers, with claws, crawling up arms and legs…..ring, ring, clue phone–no one buys this s*&$ for a minute AND it looks like crap.

7. Profanity on your arm or knuckles forever…..I guess the upside is that it is usually spelled correctly.

8. Skulls with vampire teeth and other hellish icons…..perfect for holding your sweet baby in christening photos.

9. Your NAME…..are you honestly so dumb that you need a permanent “Hello, My Name Is” on your BODY?!

10. The tramp stamp…..how many of these uninteresting smears am I going to have to look at–only bettered when accompanied by a whale-tale thong popping out under your muffin top.

I know that there are more fine specimens–feel free to comment and enlighten me.

Maybe I’m in a mood today, but seriously–take a picture and build a scrapbook of memories to keep at home. I don’t care that you’re “Born to be Wild” or that you want snakes coming out of eye sockets in skulls on your arm to be the 1st impression of you. If you need to remember names, keep an address book on you or check your cell phone.

While shows like LA Ink might be fun to watch for the freak factor and, to be honest, the talent of the artists, I find the majority of ink on the everyday individual to be mundane and mainstream–and isn’t that the opposite of what it’s supposed to be?

And don’t even get me started on the pathology of the pain of the needle associated with a “Good Memory”…..

Maybe I’m completely wrong.

Maybe my NOT having any tatt’s means I have commitment issues because I can’t think of one picture I want on my body forever.

Maybe I’m just afraid that today’s Betty Boop will be tomorrow’s Betty Droop.

Maybe I’m the freak here……but maybe I’m not.