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Archive for the ‘ Slutmuffin ’ Category

The pervs are after Henrietta


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Well, it’s official.  Henrietta has been, at the very least, (to hear her tell it), leered at by a pervert.  She has been waiting for the majority of her life to be able to have verifiable proof that men are after her.  Oh yes.  At 87 years old… it’s here.

Her proof of this came several weeks ago, in the way of a breaking news story that was about, Dr. Bernard Albina, her old orthopedist from years ago when she and Marcos were living in their house.  We took her to all of the appointments she ever had with him, as Marcos didn’t drive anymore at that point.

The news story?  Sadly, he was, apparently, a really busy pedophile.  While that is in itself, not the least bit funny, her take on it was, predictably,  aaaaall about her.  She was absolutely agog and went on and on about how she never trusted him and how Marcos used to ask if he had to go with her to her appointments and she, “always told him yes, he had to go”, because she didn’t trust that man!  “Oooooh, no Krissa!  I knew there was something wrong with him!  Just the way he looked at me!”

I never did point out that it was ME who had gone in with her to every single appointment and, clearly, an octogenarian is not going to do it for a pedophile.  Whatever.  She could not get enough of the local news and the articles about it in the paper.  She has told every single person who will listen to her about the peril she was in and how that man just wanted so badly to get her alone.

Sigh.  If it wasn’t so sad it’d be funny.  OK, maybe it’s funny, anyway.

Check out the news clip.

Other O development Os?


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In worry of a lawsuit respect for my Mexican readers, (I have none that I know of), I have titled my post in… Spanish(?)

Whatever.  My political corrected-ness doesn’t go too terribly far.  Ashamed for my “slander” of my SIL’s wetback boyfriend?  Not entirely.

OK, not really at all.

The afore mentioned wetback is a very nice guy and holds a job in a mechanics garage and really wants to get me alone without my husband around learn better English and pay taxes.

Yes, he does in fact stare at me and make me feel quite uncomfortable from time to time.  Even some of the other members of my family have noticed it.  Yet, he always wanders outside and finds something useful to do while the SIL is here.  Mow the lawn, clean out the garage, weedeat.  Whatever he can find.

So hell yeah, I tolerate leering!  I have told John more than once that if he wants to, try out polygamy,  have a three way, or just a girlfriend, it’s fine with me as long as the other chick cleans house.  And I mean good!  Not like I do.

Yeah.  I can be loose and uber cool.

Until I don’t want to.  And that’s? the tricky part.

😉

Polling, polling… now I'm polling.


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Ok the latest debate/gossip around the coffee pot with the girlfriends and I is a touchy little question that has come up in one of our lives.  I will not say who.  Persecute Protect the innocent. Yeah.  That’s what I’m all about. heh

Please chime in and leave your honest opinion, even if you have never commented before, PLEASE leave one this time.  (I am trying to make you feel as if you owe me this.  Is it working?)  This whole debate really needs settling before any of us will just BE ABLE TO CHANGE THE DAMN SUBJECT ALREADY!  Oops… was I shouting?  I don’t want to scare you away, dear.  Now just sit back down and relax.  There, comfy?  Good, now turn the phone off and pay close attention.

Here is question # 1 for expert consideration:

When a person of one sex text’s another person of the other sex every night and says, “I’m going to bed now.  Good night.  Sweet dreams.”, is that considered “pillow talk” or just being friendly?

Question # 2 is this:

When the person receiving the texts is a happily married individual, and of course the person doing the texting is not the spouse, is it inappropriate?

OK, ready?  GO!

White trash extraordinaire.


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Well, the good news is… I’m not dead.  I have just been on hiatus, hanging out with Mither and Pop.  They are down visiting and we are having a grand time.  We don’t have any big projects planned for this trip and so it has all been fairly relaxing.

While I have been relaxing a bit, it seems like I have fallen further and further behind on reading my blogs.  I am sooo sorry!  I have not forgotten you people and will get back soon!  At least I will be able to see when I begin trying to get caught up!

I have gone to the optometrist and gotten a prescription for my eyeballs.  Would you believe that my first pair of glasses is going to be bifocals?  How blind am I?  Well, I’ll tell you.  My distance is .25 and my closer up in your face is 1.75.  No.  I don’t know what that means either.  But I know I have to have bifocals.  I am getting the line-less kind, with a far, mid and close range seeing area.  I wasn’t so interested in seeing mid range as interested in NOT looking like I had on bifocals.  Did I mention that this is my FIRST PAIR OF GLASSES?  I was a little staggered.

Speaking of staggered…  I have a… family(?) situation that smacks of reality tv, like nothing else.  Think smutty, like maybe, Temptation Island meets The Girls Next Door.  Only no one is that attractive.

You may remember me referring to Auntie-poo, before.  She is Mither’s sister and my favorite person in the world, (Mither is sitting here insisting that I make it understood, except for her.).  Well, she has a son, my cousin, actually, who has a wife that is a true piece of work.  My cousin came home from work a month or so ago and his slutty wife told him she wanted him to move out that she had been communicating with a guy who is in prison and she loved him and they were going to get married.  As soon as he gets out of prison.  Come to find out this is going to have to be a June wedding, 2009.

June weddings are nice.

Anyway, getting back to my cousin, he has three children with this chick and was heartbroken enough.  She then proceeded to tell him that years ago right after their last child was born she was corresponding with another guy on the internet and they decided to meet at a Jack in the Box.  She told him that they had sex in the bathroom there.  At Jack in the Box.  When they met.  For the first time.

I can’t seem to wrap my leetle brain around this.  Maybe I’m not creative enough to think this “outside the box”. (Pardon the pun.)  But let’s consider this a minute:

1. When meeting for sex at Jack in the Box with a man that has never been met before does one just assume the restaurant facilities will be adequate?  Or does one hope the, ahem, gentleman has a van?

2.  In which restroom is the dirty deed carried out?  I mean Men’s or Women’s?  Miss Manners would definitely have something to say about this.  Or Emily Post.  If she wasn’t dead.

3.  If you are ensconced in a bathroom at Jack in the Box with your… lover, conquest, intended, slutmuffin, are you concerned with the type of paper towels offered?  I mean if it’s an upscale establishment with a roll of paper towels, that’s one thing.  You could roll those out on the floor and not have to worry about missing gaps in the coverage.

4.  Do you bring your own paper towels?  Oh dear.  Would this seem presumptuous?  Now, we wouldn’t want to give the wrong impression.

5. If left with only the folded paper towels that pull out of the dispenser one at a time, what do you do?  Move the party to the counter?  Sink?  Standing?

6.  Is there a lock on the interior of the door in the Jack in the Box restrooms?

7.  How long to you do “it”?  Too long and there will be people making racket outside the door and that will put a real damper on things.  Too short and your partner will be very unimpressed.

8.  What’s the rule about how old or big you can be to use a changing table?

9.  When it says “Family” on the door of a restroom, does it mean just relatives?

10. When it says “No shirt, no shoes.  No service” does it mean panties are optional.

11.  John wants to know, “Do you get fries with that?”

You know Witchypoo over at Psychicgeek has an advise column that I’ve been toying with different questions for here for a good while, now…  How do you think she’d answer,…..?  Hummmm.


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