The BJ Guidelines

1. No BJs on an one night stand (or with someone you're hardly acquainted with). I am a firm believer that you need to know someone well before you get all up close and personal with their dick. You need to know them well enough that you're at least aware of their hygiene habits. Are they using the triangle method? Are they trimmed or growing wild? You go down there and find a piece of popcorn chilling in their pubes, what do you do!? You need to know! If all else fails, resort to the Dip & Sniff. If they nasty, get out now. Don't pass go. Don't collect $200. You go back down to that hotel bar and find someone else to make that rent money! Okay!?

2. The dick is in your mouth. You're in control. This is self-explanatory. There is nothing I hate more than a guy directing me like we're on the set of Busty Babes 9: Less Busty But Perky. Don't tell me what to do. I'm experienced. Just sit back and enjoy. Thanks.

3. Cum. Where does it go? Not the hell in, on, or around me that's for sure! I hate it. HATE it. I don't know where I went wrong in my hoe days, but this is the one thing I never enjoyed. Do you swallow? Do you sit back and open your mouth, letting him cum on your face? Are you one of those girls who lets him cum on your chest and then proceeds to massage your tits and lick your lips? Well... kudos to you. You go girl!

4. Deep-throating. When? Solely special occasions. And by special occasions, I'm talking 10 year anniversaries or any event that involves money. A raise, a bonus, a sweepstakes win, a diamond. When else would you want a dick blocking your airway?

5. Hit him with the combo. Do I actually enjoy having a penis in my mouth? No. Hell no. Do I enjoy pleasing my man? Yes. That is what it's all about. But do I want to get it over with as fast as possible? Duh. I always recommend the blowjob/handjob combo. It is very effective and reduces the blowjob duration by 80%. Try it!

These are pretty much all of my guidelines. I hope you've learned something here today!  Now, go out there and suck some dick, ladies! Make me proud!

The Way I See Her

This came about after reading a random girl's profile on Tumblr. She writes, "I don't like 'about me's'. They paint a picture colored in black and  white. The way we see ourselves. It is either we are too perfect or too imperfect. The truth is, we can be very wrong..." I agree with her, so I asked my fiancé if he would write an "about me" for me. This is the result.

Written by Thomas Clarke on December 27, 2010

It's lunch time, and I am waiting anxiously at the bar of a restuarant for a girl I had only seen a wallet-sized picture of. A girl, encouraged by her mother to meet me. "You'd be perfect for each other," is what she told us both. Well, I am a man of punctuality; embedded in me by the Army. She is a woman who sees no crime in being fashionably late. No, actually, this wasn't the reason for her lateness, but as I've come to know her, it is very true.

Everything about her is perfect. I see her walking across the room. An all white dress, heels, and hair perfectly in place as I sit here in my fatigues with a buzz cut. Without saying a word, she walks up, takes the seat beside me and  takes a moment to place her things in the chair beside her. She finally turns to me, smiles and simply asks, "are you TJ?" I'm not really sure if I mustered a yes or even a nod because in that moment I was just glad that yes, I am TJ.

Now the phrases "most beautiful woman in the world" and "a smile that will light up a room" are often misused and overused, but I swear to you in that moment I knew her smile would light up my world and that she was and for the rest of my life be the most beautiful woman I'd ever see.

Kelly is the kindest, most loving person I know. I would be extremely surprised if she had any enemies. She is always smiling and is not content unless everyone around her is happy. She's not afraid to be silly. The girl doing the running man in the middle of a crowded dance floor; that is Kelly. Loving her was never really an option for me. It was intuitive. Always a part of my being.

Another phrase: "the luckiest man in the world." That is me. On June 11, 2011, in less than six months, I will marry this girl: the daughter I'd be perfect for, the most beautiful woman in my world who's smile lights up every room. These months cannot go by fast enough.

Now you're probably wondering about the rest of our blind date and you'd probably think it safe to assume it was successful, but you'd be wrong. The conversation was typical of a first date, but her cell phone was constantly ringing, the server got her order wrong, and at the end we had a disagreement about what an appropriate tip would be. So leaving the restaurant slightly disappointed, I walk her to her car. She hugs me. Smiles. Opens her car door. I begin to walk away. She calls out to me before getting in the car and closing the door. She leaves me with this...

"I love a man in camo."

Rose was a Sheisty Bitch

Or part II of “The Reasons Why I’m Kind of a Terrible Person.”

You guys, I really hate Titanic. And not even in a hipster ~I hate it since it’s so mainstream even though it’s exactly the same since I first heard of it 3 years ago along with 12 other people at an underground organic coffee shop/faux-vintage thrift shop~ kind of way.

I have no plans to see it in 3D unless I get word that the above scene is somehow in 3D because that would be magical… like I’m excited just thinking about it.

Let me tell you about this scene.  That poor dude could have been saved (or ya know, lived for 5 more minutes)!  Rose looked right at him like he was scum as he’s clutching his pearls and holding on for dear life! Like bitch, you were just dancing along side that dude at the hoedown two days prior.  And seriously, what the fuck, Jack! That guy was probably your third cousin or something.

Karma is an iceberg sinking your unsinkable ship. For real.

I also enjoy the scene where Rose is on the driftwood and has the nerve to say, “I’m so cold, Jack,” as he’s turning blue in the icy water. That would probably be me except, I definitely would have been one of the first bad bitches in the life boats, chilling like a mile away, saying “We should totally go back, you guys…  I forgot my mink handmuffs.  And who’s hogging the ~popped corn~?”

Annnnnnnnnd scene.

Thank You for the Gift

Just consider this part one of a series I've entitled:  Really, Really Getting to Know Me & The Reaons Why I'm Kind of a Terrible Person.

Some time last year, I donated $10 to feed the hungry. Not because I'm such a good person (since that would clearly contradict my title), but because it got me a gift certificate for a free slice of cheesecake from The Cheesecake Factory. Note that I actually realized after my transaction that I only had to donate $5 to get the free slice. I believe at the time I was thinking double the donation, double the cheesecake, but I was wrong. But whatever, my $10 bought 20 bushels of oats & grains AND a slice of vanilla bean cheesecake. BARGAIN!

Cut to this year... I've been getting an outrageous amount of junk mail lately and by "junk mail" I mean letters from every freaking charity in existence asking for donations. I am 99.9% convinced that the organization that I generously donated to sold my address (because they do that, right?). Rude.

Well, my favorites are of course the ones that send you a gift. I now have enough return address labels to last me for the next 2 years (shame we plan on moving this year). I have an over abundance of gift labels for Christmas. I have a super cute greeting card set. AND of course, I have a dime from March of Dimes (I just can't bring myself to use it. I mean I'm terrible, but not that terrible).

The worst are the ones that send you a picture of the child you'll be helping. I mean, don't guilt trip me in to donating with a photo of little Jazahara, shirtless, playing with a rock. And please, don't send me any more pictures of babies with cleft palates. I know what they look like, and I would love, LOVE to help them all, but it's just not feasibly possible (seriously, like the girl who cried about saving all the little kitties, I want to save all the babies... and kitties... and puppies... and unicorns).

But back to the gifts and the first reason why I'm kind of a terrible person. I have set aside the donation slips of all the charities that sent me a gift with the highest intentions of eventually, at some point in my life, making a donation. I immediately threw away the mail of any charity that did not send me a gift and also the charities that DID send me a gift but it was either ugly and/or had the incorrect address... because I'm a terrible person... kind of. :)

Circle, Cirle, Dot, Dot...

Since my wedding day is drawing closer, I thought I'd take the time to reminisce about my tragic first relationship.

I was lucky enough to have one of those mothers who tells her daughters that if a boy teases you that means he likes you. Yes, if you're playing on the jungle gym and little Tommy pushes you to your death, he's totally in love with you.

I actually had a Tommy push me off one of those metal spider webs in kindergarten. I knocked my chin off one of the bars, fell backwards and landed on my back in the sand. I believe I did one of those no air cries for a good 60 seconds.

Of course, I remember this day clearly even 23 years later because he was totes my first love. Duh. We had a very healthy relationship. I shared my snacks with him, and he gave me cooties. The cootie shot unfortunately wouldn't be invented for several more years.

Our relationship came to a halt during our kindergarten graduation when he refused to hold my hand during the procession. His last name being Johnson, and mine JaXXXXX, he really could never get away from me. But it was in that moment I realized he had no qualms holding skanky Ashley L.'s hand (those Ashleys and Amandas, right? there was always more than one). I was heart broken.

How dare he mooch off me for extra snacks for months! How dare he give me cooties and run out on me! You can live a completely normal life with cooties. Ride bikes. Hold hands in the park. Share a Slip 'N Slide.

Well, this tragedy was caught on tape by my parents. They were proud owners of a 50lbs VHS camcorder. I have clear, substantial evidence of the day Tommy became a player. And if I ever run into him again (or you know, stalk him down on Facebook), he will regret it.

Because I've since been cured of my cooties. I have ~circle, circle, dot, dot, now I've got my cootie shot!~ many a time, and I may or may not have gotten damn fine. And like most romantic comedies teach us, he is fat, single, and drives a cab.

So if you ever happen to be in San Diego and take a ride in Tommy Johnson's cab, give him cooties and tell him they're from me. Thanks!

Best I Ever Had

My vows to @cupcass & @drake. You probs wouldn't understand.

Before I met my boos, I was all pussy's only pussy, and I get it when I need it; asking every other hoe out there to show me a good time. But I found their lovin. I found their hearts. And now, all I see is fireworks. I'm a little bit in love.

I vow...

to only throw my ones up in the air for you.
to always keep you fancy.
to let you know, let you knoo-ow...
to miss you a little when you're gone.
to make it whistle like the Andy Griffith theme song.
to be the best you ever had.
To have and to bone, from this day forward, for better, for best, for richer, for more richer, in sickness and in health, until world tours do us part.

Time for the rings... Drizzy?

In Your Eyes

I'm sitting here in my program office, attempting to work on my thesis, but someone just heated up some fish for lunch. There is something about the smell of fish... I will smell like this all day. Like I just ended my shift at Long John Silver. Like I just turned a trick and owe a pimp some money. Worst smell ever.

But slightly unrelated but not completely off base, my life has been a slight mess lately. And to break this down, it's due to 20% family, 30% school & 50% friends related issues. Sooo so much.

In an attempt to avoid any breakdowns (Read: Shambles & Cupcakes), I told TJ, my fiancé, that I just wanted to be alone and listen to music. So I close myself in our guest bedroom, put my iPod on the dock, and turn on shuffle.

The first (and only) song to play is "Lullaby (Rockabye)" by Shawn Mullins. You know it. Don't lie! I become immediately transfixed. Closed my eyes and sang along at the top of my lungs. I'm sure the neighbors could hear me through the walls, which is unfortunate because I played this song over & OVER, joining in every single time.

After maybe the fifth or sixth play (I KNOW!), I decide to turn it off and just enjoy the silence. Maybe only 60 seconds of silence... I hear yelled from outside the door, "PLAY 'IN YOUR EYES!'" And so I do.*

And I open up the door to find ALL my boys: TJ, Corey (my son), and Max (our dog) standing there and surprisingly not looking at me like I'm completely insane and this makes me smile.

Today, I'm still smiling, despite smelling like fish and still having 101 issues to deal with, because I have my boys, and they're safe & healthy & happy & love me even though I might be insane and that's all that really matters. Everything else I'll just sing away.

*I am 100% sure TJ thought these songs were sung by the same person. It was an odd choice otherwise. And don't judge me for having Peter Gabriel on my iPod in the 21st century.