What a World We Live In — Junkified

There is nothing better than receiving an unasked for Dick PIC on a beautiful Friday morning.  Seriously, what has this world come to.  You can’t even have a drink with a man without him assuming that’s code for “please send me a picture of your flaccid penis.”

Maybe I’m getting old, but is this really what dating has become?  What happened to the old fashion style of getting to know someone before showing them your genitals? This type of courtship, believe it or not, does not work for me.  I’m sorry to break it to you men, but a nake pic of your weiner will not get you a second date with me.  Let me tell you what kind of reaction you will get from me….

First, I will tell you to stop messaging me, and I will likely throw a few not so choice words in the mix.  Second, I am going to show everyone I know your ity bity dinky, and we will all laugh at it.  Is that what you were hoping for?  If so, you succeeded.  Every girl in my office has had a good ol’ laugh at your bits today.  I would think most men are not looking for laughter when it comes to their penis.  But, hey, what do I know — I have an innie.

I will never understand the thought process behind sending dick pics.  Maybe that’s it — there is no thought.  Just a primal instinct to get the dick out there and see who bites.  In this post, I’d like to get the message out to all them dick pic sending men in the world.  PLEASE STOP!  You will have much better luck by being a gentleman.  Even if you have an amazing looking Tool, we still don’t want to get a picture of it.  There may be a select few out there that this will work on, but is that really the type of woman you are looking for?  I sure hope not.

I don’t know if it’s a thing for men to receive unwanted female junk pics, but if it is, well shame on the women sending them.  Have some respect for yourselves.  On that note — I’m off for an afterwork Friday beverage.  I need something to erase the floppy noodle picture stuck in my brain.

Happy Friday Bloggers and may you all have a junk pic free weekend.

Dicks and Guns

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When someone pisses you off, drink a beer and go shoot something.  Sound advice my friends — sound advice.  This is what I will be doing tonight to let off some much needed steam.  After four long weeks of emotional fuck me over, I still have not completely rid myself of a dick of a man.  My lesson is to never, under any circumstances, lend out property to a man.  Specifically one who has been messing with my mind.  At any rate, I lent out a guitar, of which, I now must wait another week to try and retrieve.  So load me up, and let’s get skeet shooting.

This would all make more sense to you all if I had kept up writing through it all, but I didn’t.   Mainly because I was too embarrassed to admit I kept letting a certain man back into my life.  I was hoping he would pull his shit together, so I could write about the happy ever after ending.  Sadly, and not unexpectedly, the ending was not a happy one.   No, no, no — not happy at all.  It was a long, painfully irritating, frustratingly, annoying FUCKED up ending.  One I would like to be done and fogotten with.  However, Mr. Dick has prolonged the ending by one last week.  DICK.

In other news, I purchased myself a tennis racket last night.  I’ve decided to take up tennis, so I signed up for a lesson which takes place next Wednesday night.  I’m not sure why I’m doing this.  I have no one to play with once I learn how, but who knows.  Maybe the universe will get it right next time, and it will send me a great man who enjoys playing tennis.  As mentioned earlier, I’m off to do some skeet shooting tonight.  It’s a work thing.  We are part of a local construction association, and they put this event on every year.  I TOTALLY suck at it, but there is free food and beer — need I say more.

I’ve made a little promise to myself to get myself back on track.  That includes posting regularily.  I’m not normally one to let a man twist my life around so dramatically, but it happened and I need to get on with it.  I’m still reeling from the experience, and if honest, still a little sad at the outcome.  My hopes were high; I had liked him at first.  He was good at hiding his true self, and I was naive to believe his bullshit.  Lesson learned.  On that note, I’m off to change into something more shooting appropriate.  “PULL”


Ain’t Nothing Gonna Break My Stride

TGIF………..Tomorrow.  It’s been one hell of a week, and I’m ready to find myself some good old distractions.  Like my aunt always said, “The best way to get over a guy is to get under another.”  I’ve personally never rolled that way, but there’s always a first time.  I could be all talk.  OK, I’m all talk, but I do have a date lined up.

The past six weeks of my life hit me like a tornado.  I met a guy, really liked a guy, started to fall for a guy, then had the wind knocked right out of me.  I didn’t even see it coming.  It’s been five days of little to no contact from said guy, and I’m just starting to gain some perspective on the situation.  First of all, it’s true I was starting to fall for the guy.  But in reality, I didn’t know him that well.  Obviously.  That means, I was falling for something I thought he was, not who he really was.  Secondly, I’m ready for love, and I’m not going to let this set me back.  I’m moving forward regardless of my disappointment and sadness.

I have no false illusions that my date is going to turn out to be mr. right.  I don’t really care at this point.  I just want to be reminded that there are other men out there, and I am going to be ok.  AND who knows; maybe he will be great… or maybe… he will be GREAT, if you catch my drift. (insert wink)


Day 1 — HOPING still

Last night I wrote (drunkenly) about hope for the future.  I hope to find love and happiness  in 2017 because truly that is all that is missing in my life.  Two very important things “love” and “happiness” — what is life without them?

Hard.  Life is hard without love and happiness.  People claim that you don’t need to be in love to be happy, and this is somewhat true.  But humans need love to thrive.  So left unloved for long enough, our happiness (or at least mine) dwindles away.  I have love from friends and family, and please don’t think I do not value their love.  I do — but it’s not the same.  I long for the love of a lover, so I hope for love in 2017.

Today is the first day of the year, and to get things started I have a Tinder date in an hour.  Is there hope for love here?  Haha… who knows.  My track record with online dating is far from encouraging.  However, a mid-day coffee meet up on a snowy New Years day sounds like potential.

After coffee, I plan to hit the gym and then grocery shop.  Life returns to normal tomorrow… WORK.  Oh work, how I have not missed you, but I need you… sadly, I need you.

Time to go make myself presentable.  Let’s hope some makeup covers up the champaign bags residing under my eyeballs this morning.

Happy New Year 2017


It’s nine o’clock in the morning, and it looks like it’s gonna be a frigg’n kick ass day.  Friday has an advantage over the rest of the days of the week, simply because it has it’s own slogan: TGIF, or as I like to say it TFGIF…

Anywaaaaayyys….. enough about Friday; let’s talk about something fun like BOYS.  Just recently, I decided to become a serial dater.  Wait, was it “Serial” or “Serious”?  Shit, I can’t remember.  Ahhhhfuckit…. serial it is.   It’s about time I shake things up and live a little.  Up till now, my dating strategy involved one guy at at time.  Very labour intensive and not very effective.  I’d spend a couple weeks chatting up a guy before an actual in-person meet.  People are very different in the virtual world than they are in person.  I don’t think this happens on purpose.  I’m sure it has more to do with my interpretation than the other persons delivery.  Regardless, I’m often disappointed.  My new strategy:  multi-quick chats with an immediate meeting scheduled.  Quick and dirty — I’m gonna play the numbers game!

My wish list for a man is simple: He must be the God of Thunder!

Free Thor #1

Picture courtesy of http://wlpapers.com/

I’m not asking for much:  A few rippling muscles and a big hammer.  And he must be kind, smart, funny, hard working, a good cook, and he must love dogs.                                                                                       Kidding aside, it doesn’t have to be Thor; I’d settle for a look-a-like; I’m reasonable.    Dreams, dreams, dreams…. if only in my dreams.

Yesterday, I created a bucket list The Sloshing Bucket.  #2 on my list is to fall in love again, and get married (again).  This is the one item on the wish list that I can’t make happen with hard work.  Love has a mind of it’s own and it happens when it  happens.  However, I can be pro-active by putting myself out there, so HELLO boys, come out, come out where ever you are.

Well I’ve bored you long enough with my super hero fantasies, so I will leave you to find more insightful and intellectual readings.  Happy Friday Blogger Friends…. I hope for you a restful weekend.








Call Me Picky

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My friends call me picky, and maybe they’re right.  It’s entirely possible I’ve lost the ability to settle for anything less than exactly what I want.  I may be anxious, and I may get lonely at times, but I’m not built for settling.

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After 2 weeks of tindering back and forth, I met the sheriff last night.  Again I was reminded why online meetings just don’t seem to work for me.   First, he didn’t look like he did in the pictures.  He wasn’t ugly, but I didn’t find him attractive either.  I showed up in a short plaid skirt with knee high black leather boots, and a black blouse with a deep V neck line.  My hair was straightened; my makeup carefully applied, and I had a hint of perfume dabbed on the inside of my wrists.  I dressed to impress — it was a first date after all.

HE showed up in a pair of ill-fitted jeans and a car t-shirt.  I get that some men don’t care about their sense of style, but it is something I notice.  I find a man who can dress himself up to be extremely sexy.  Clothing aside, I didn’t find our conversation to be overly stimulating either.  He was nice, but he was boring.  He swore a lot, and made constant sexual inuendos.  Don’t get me wrong, I am guilty of the odd witty sexual inuendo, but I don’t base my conversation around them.    Basically the date was mediocre.  He was a decent enough guy, and I’m sure for someone else he will make a great partner.  Just not for me.


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Picky?  Sure, if it needs to have a name, call me picky.  I’ve lived through a divorce, a stalker, and an abuser.  I think I’ve earned the right to be picky.  Loneliness can be hard, but being with the wrong person is even harder.



Sheriff Pre-date Anxiety

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Fourteen days ago, I matched with a sheriff on Tinder.  A tallish, tattoo’d, family loving sheriff.  At least that’s what I think I know about this man.  I’ve done my homework and checked his references, and so far so good.  He texts me “Good morning pretty lady” when I wake, and “Sleep well pretty lady” when I crawl into bed each night.   In the digital world he seems great, but how will he translate in real life?  I will find out tonight.

I have a date with the sheriff, and I don’t know how to feel about it.  I’m sort of excited I think, but at the same time I feel hesitant.  He quit drinking a few months ago, so there won’t be a glass of wine to warm up the conversation.  He hasn’t told me, yet, why he quit drinking; he said he wants to wait until we meet in person.  Totally fair, but at the same time I’m not sure how I feel about this.  I also know that he is living in his travel trailer while his house is being rebuilt after a home fire.  I’m curious to find out if the fire has anything to do with his sobriety.  Questions, questions, so many questions.

I hate to admit this, but I wish we were meeting for a beer rather than dinner.  I worry my anxiety will get in the way of me being able to relax.  I can already feel myself getting fidgety, restless, and uncomfortable.  Should I tell him right off that I get anxious?  Being upfront immediately hasn’t worked well for me in the past.   However,  If I don’t tell him, I worry he will think my strange behaviour is my norm.  He did say he likes a little weird in his women, so maybe he will find me intriguing.  Maybe my anxiety will come off as essentric or mysterious.  I can only hope.

There’s always the chance that I won’t like him.  Although I have a feeling I will; he’s easy to talk to at least.  NOW the big question… what do I wear?