tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30192077306646725672024-03-14T04:01:15.221-07:00NotANiceGirlNotANiceGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08604665426732081912noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019207730664672567.post-27798232162005592512008-08-22T14:18:00.000-07:002008-11-29T17:01:03.362-08:00Ding Dong the dick is Gone....I dumped John on his freaky knee f-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ing</span> ass! I'm doing major renovations to my house and totally giving my life an overhaul. I totalled one of my cars so I just got another. I quit my job and am so happy!!!<br /><br /><br />I'm most happy to be rid of John (aka J) and have since met an awesome guy. We have a ton in common and I'm not just talking sex so life is great!NotANiceGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08604665426732081912noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019207730664672567.post-28020390017410346152008-04-26T20:40:00.000-07:002008-04-26T20:50:02.576-07:00My Pussy Has A first Name...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXrg0SwqWHDZhcnUJYp9IyVLyBaT_uyS15Dm0EbyTeFhp3esZlVDP5EG-22Q7fSjip-K5V1D3gdWQJw67qjwp8QKq-Jjvdat6IaBkCPeauuwMDIadx8BBcvM3pzDUi-RakGiDwfWcL7T4/s1600-h/Snapshot_20080426_45_0.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193765591880340610" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXrg0SwqWHDZhcnUJYp9IyVLyBaT_uyS15Dm0EbyTeFhp3esZlVDP5EG-22Q7fSjip-K5V1D3gdWQJw67qjwp8QKq-Jjvdat6IaBkCPeauuwMDIadx8BBcvM3pzDUi-RakGiDwfWcL7T4/s320/Snapshot_20080426_45_0.bmp" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_4IL9PBBRHKrBESl8jKprs3EdAmG9r-QxsaHzeHtIy9CvezFtRUwQqX2zHf-6QDMyLzyTr6qvGnhJtZ1QJjcbFhHQxL8JVSd4HzmLAomuHw2Gkz-yA3g8SvAEMluqAxSllKWl7wXvRQg/s1600-h/Snapshot_20080426_41_0.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193765140908774498" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_4IL9PBBRHKrBESl8jKprs3EdAmG9r-QxsaHzeHtIy9CvezFtRUwQqX2zHf-6QDMyLzyTr6qvGnhJtZ1QJjcbFhHQxL8JVSd4HzmLAomuHw2Gkz-yA3g8SvAEMluqAxSllKWl7wXvRQg/s320/Snapshot_20080426_41_0.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4tGKHQRTk6197U3UMFLb7knbBJnOW7HBSz04dG1K9jway5dJ-b46-LIdw2rReuo-fEjkfH14WAXlbalFSFdNtEvM7xd6Jo0KeWQl5Vhr4PK98lZtGeCp1gRUQVZ9_BZK5RG0ZONeC0nQ/s1600-h/Snapshot_20080426_52_0.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193765334182302834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4tGKHQRTk6197U3UMFLb7knbBJnOW7HBSz04dG1K9jway5dJ-b46-LIdw2rReuo-fEjkfH14WAXlbalFSFdNtEvM7xd6Jo0KeWQl5Vhr4PK98lZtGeCp1gRUQVZ9_BZK5RG0ZONeC0nQ/s320/Snapshot_20080426_52_0.bmp" border="0" /></a> I am trying to find a name for my new kitten.... He was born on St. Patrick's Day. I like Dublin, Dempsey, and Liam. Declan is also in the running but I'm open to suggestions. I'm not one to go with cutesy names. All my pets have had names that would work for a human. Let me know.... you'll probably need to click on the photo to even be able to see him. I took them with my web cam and have no idea why they are so small.<br /><br /></div><div></div>NotANiceGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08604665426732081912noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019207730664672567.post-68317370139595184702008-04-22T09:21:00.000-07:002008-05-19T13:53:12.114-07:00Are You There Vodka?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigw4r7RiXZuDXBt0_JGC9CMZNs1BBOA4Hf4qX29mNpvuZ1jjTKM1BQ4mDw6geMyHFz_F_ZxaeDIrkpNzvl1wrL5qWuxctcufU4P1wYd4J6Z50aU8bLAh_4Yrim1G9VGicNZafVY4pUi9I/s1600-h/chelsea.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193755928203924482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigw4r7RiXZuDXBt0_JGC9CMZNs1BBOA4Hf4qX29mNpvuZ1jjTKM1BQ4mDw6geMyHFz_F_ZxaeDIrkpNzvl1wrL5qWuxctcufU4P1wYd4J6Z50aU8bLAh_4Yrim1G9VGicNZafVY4pUi9I/s200/chelsea.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I'm so excited for this book to arrive in my mailbox today! <em>My Horizontal Life</em> was a hysterical read & I just love Chelsea Handler!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center">CHAPTER ONE Blacklisted<br />I was nine years old and walking myself to school one morning when I heard the unfamiliar sound of a prepubescent boy calling my name. I had heard my name spoken out loud by males before, but it was most often by one of my brothers, my father, or a teacher, and it was usually followed up with a shot to the side of the head.<br />I turned around and spotted Jason. Jason, an adorable fifth-grader who lived down the street from me. I had never so much as made eye contact with Jason before. After lifting up one of my earmuffs to make sure I had heard him correctly, I nervously attempted to release my wedgie while waiting for him to catch up.<br />"I heard you were going to be in a movie with Goldie Hawn," he said to me, out of breath.<br />Shit. The day before, I had forgotten my language arts homework, and when the teacher singled me out in front of the entire class to find out where it was, I told her that I had been in three straight nights of meetings with Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell, negotiating my contract to play Goldie Hawn's daughter in the sequel to Private Benjamin.<br />The fact that no sequel to Private Benjamin was in the works, or that a third-grader wouldn't be negotiating her own contract with the star of the movie and her live-in lover, hadn't dawned on me.<br /><br />It occurred to me that this was the perfect opportunity to get some of the respect I believed had been denied me, due to my father dropping me off in front of the school in a 1967 banana yellow Yugo. It was 1984, and my father had no idea of or interest in how damaging his 1967 Yugo had been to my social status. He had driven me to school on a couple of really cold days, and even after I had pleaded with him to drop me off down the street, he was adamant about me not catching a cold.<br />Word had spread like wildfire throughout the school about what kind of car my father drove, and before I knew it, the older girls in fifth grade would follow me through the hallways calling me "poor" and "ugly." After a couple of months they upped it from "ugly" to "a dog," and would bark at me anytime they saw me in the hallway.<br />The idea that showing up at school in a piece of shit jalopy led to me looking like a dog didn't make much sense in my mind. It really irked me that I had to be punished because my father thought he was a used car dealer and insisted on driving us around in the cars that he couldn't sell. </div><div align="center">If it had been mild teasing, I think I probably could have handled it. But it was incessant, and started from the moment I got to school until the moment I left. My best friend, Jodi, was the only one who would walk with me to every class and defend me when the fifth-grade girls would come over to our table in the cafeteria and ask if I was eating Alpo for lunch.<br />......"I'm having trouble getting the trailer size I want. Goldie's being pretty cool, but Kurt is so mercurial. He doesn't understand why a nine-year-old needs a Jacuzzi and a personal chef," I said nonchalantly, with a wave of my mitten. "These types of things always take time."<br />"You get your own trailer?" he asked.<br />"Yeah, you know, your own little house when you're on set. There's sooo much downtime in movies, you really need a place to unwind."<br />My vast knowledge of movie-making at the age of nine came from spending every free minute watching television, movies, and reading any book about the filming of The Breakfast Club I could get my hands on. "I didn't even know you were an actress," Jason said. "How did you get the part?"<br />"It's 'actor'," I said, correcting him. "The thing is, I was in a little Off-Broadway production with Meryl Streep." <br />"Meryl Streep?" he asked. "The one from Sophie's Choice?"<br />"Is there another?" I asked, rolling my eyes at his naivete. "Anyway, she and I really clicked. She recommended me to the director of this movie. That's how Hollywood works -- one thing leads to another, blah, blah, blah. But they're having a ton of creative issues, so who knows if it will even go."<br />"Go where?" he asked.<br />"If the movie will even be made."<br />"Oh."<br />" Maybe you can visit me on set."<br />"Really?" he asked, his eyes ready to pop out of their sockets.<br />I had to think of something quick to recant my offer after realizing I would never be able to pull it off, so I quickly added, "Well, I mean if your parents will let you fly to the Galapagos Islands."<br />"Who?"<br />"The Galapagos," I said, trying to come up with a reason they would be shooting the sequel to Private Benjamin surrounded by turtles. "They have a ton of rare animals there, so the movie's going to be more of her roughing it in the water with jellyfish and sea horses. It's basically a cross between Splash and Private Benjamin."<br />"I loved Splash!" Jason screamed. "This is so cool!"<br />"Darryl's a complete mess," I told him, shaking my head.<br />"Darryl Hannah?"<br />"Don't even get me started," I snorted.<br />Once we arrived at school, I played it cool and left Jason with his mouth agape, as I told him I'd talk to him later and went on my way. It felt great to get attention from him. He could be the perfect ally to help get the evil fifth-grade girls to show me a little respect.<br />By lunch, almost every person at school had asked me about the movie. Not only did the fifth-grade girls skip their daily harassment, one of them even said "hi" as she walked by. Not one person had made fun of me or barked at me all day. Before Jodi and I could even sit down to eat lunch, kids were scrambling to come up to my table.<br />"What's Goldie Hawn like?" one of the other boys in fifth grade asked me.<br />"Tiny," I told him. "We're practically the same size."<br />"Really? She seems so much taller in the movies."<br />"She's like a mom to me. We totally get each other."<br />Once we had a minute to ourselves, Jodi finally confronted me and said she knew for a fact I hadn't been in a play with Meryl Streep, never mind the Off-Broadway version of Sesame Street, which by lunchtime I had cleverly renamed Sesame Streep.<br />"I know, Jodi, but look at it this way: This is the first day in months that I haven't been called a dog or ugly by the fifth-graders, and I'll be honest with you, it feels pretty sweet."<br />"I know," she said, "but what are you gonna do when they find out you're lying?"<br />"They'll forget about it," I said, loving the attention. "I'll just tell them it shoots over the summer, and by the time everyone gets back next year, they'll have forgotten. Plus, all the fifth-graders will have gone to middle school by then, so they can suck it."<br />"Yeah, but what about everybody else?" she asked. "Isn't there a way you could actually get to meet Goldie Hawn and at least get a picture with her?"<br />"That's a great idea," I told her<br />The day grew more and more insane as well-wishers and new fans were approaching me left and right, prying for information. One first-grader even asked me for my autograph. By the end of the day, not only were we filming in the Galapagos, but Soleil Moon Frye, a.k.a. Punky Brewster, would be playing my sister in the movie. Then I realized that her dark hair and freckles were in stark contrast to my blond hair and blue eyes and quickly made her my stepsister instead.<br />By the time school let out, everyone who lived in my neighborhood was racing to get one-on-one time with me, and I walked home with eight other children. The great thing about this attention was that it was coming from all the older kids, who I always believed were my core demographic. "Chelsea, sweetie, your father just got off the phone with your principal, Mr. Hiller."<br />"What kind of meshugas is this, Chelsea?" my father asked, using one of his two favorite Yiddish phrases. "You're shooting a movie with Goldie Hawn and flying to the Galapagos?"<br />My whole day deflated in a matter of seconds. "Mrs. Schectman was making a big deal about me not doing my homework and the Goldie Hawn story was the only thing I could think of," I told them.<br />"Well, why didn't you do your homework?" he asked me.<br />"Because, Dad!" I wailed, bursting into tears and stomping my left foot. "It was the season premiere of Charles in Charge! Are you out of your tree?"<br />"Chelsea, sweetie, you don't have to make up such far-fetched lies," my mother said in her ultracalm tone. "Couldn't you have come up with something a little more reasonable?"<br />"I know," I told her, defeated, and walked over for a hug. My mother was always a softie, and once I got over to her I knew my father would cease being such an immediate physical threat. "But everyone started to believe it and all the older kids were asking me about it and I got carried away."<br />"Well," my father said dismissively, "you're just going to have to go back to school tomorrow and tell everyone the truth."<br />It would have seemed completely appropriate to my father for me to hold a press conference in the school's auditorium the next day, wearing a helmet with a maxipad stuck to my forehead while announcing into a microphone that I'd been a "bad, bad girl, and I've also been known to shit my pants."<br />"Melvin," my mother said, "that is going to be extremely humiliating."<br />"Well, she certainly can't go on pretending she's going to be joining the army with some Hollywood hotshot."<br />"The sequel isn't going to be as much about the army as it will be about sea creatures," I corrected him.<br />"Chelsea, what are you even talking about?"<br />"Listen to me," my father screamed. "We've been over this before. If those girls are going to make fun of you because of the kind of car your father drives, then they're not worth your time anyway."<br />"That's nice, Dad," I told him. "But it doesn't matter if they're not worth my time or not, it's a lot more pleasant going through the halls at school not getting growled at."<br />"How many times do we have to tell you that spending money on material things is not important? What is driving around in a Mercedes or a BMW going to teach you?" he asked.<br />"I dunno," I said, still clinging to my mother. "That I want a Mercedes or a BMW?"<br />"Chelsea," my father repeated, "you cannot just make up lies."<br />"You lie all the time," I reminded him, and then ran behind my mother and wrapped my arms around her waist to shield me from any impending wrath. "You tell all the people who call about your cars that they run great, or that they have no leaks, or that they're in mint condition. Half of them need to be jump-started on a daily basis."<br />"Listen to me, you little mouthpiece. I am the father," he said, heading over in our direction while I buried my face in my mother's ass. "You are nine years old and you are going to have to do what I tell you for the next nine years, whether you like it or not. As long as you're living under this roof. Do you understand me?"<br />I wanted to tell him that I had no problem looking in the want ads for an apartment to sublet, but knew the reality of me getting my own place was months away.<br />"Yes," I said, in order to avoid getting bitch-slapped. "I understand."<br /><br />Once safely inside my room, I weighed my options. I could either tell the truth to all the kids at school and endure that embarrassment, or go for the more palatable option -- enroll myself in a performing-arts boarding school.<br />Instead, I got out some loose-leaf notebook paper and started a letter to Goldie Hawn:<br />Dear Goldie,<br />I am a third-grader from New Jersey and consider myself to be a huge fan of yours as well as a compulsive liar. I made the mistake of mentioning that I would be playing your daughter in the next installment of Private Benjamin. (A fine performance if I do say so myself. I have seen a lot of movies, and can pretty much, without a sliver of a doubt, tell you that your range far outweighs the likes of Robert De Niro or, my personal favorite, Don Johnson.)<br />Anyway, it would be of great help to me if you could either come to my school in New Jersey and pick me up for lunch, or send me a personalized autographed photo that reads:<br />My Dearest Chelsea, Working together has been a dream come true. Love Always, Goldie (your second mom)<br />I got the fan mail address from a secretary at William Morris. I then walked downstairs into my father's "office," found a stamp and an envelope, and placed the letter in our mailbox.<br /><br /><br />I walked out the door and it was a beautiful spring day. I had a feeling of hopefulness and excitement that I hadn't had all year. For the first time, I was excited to go to school instead of dreading it the whole way there.<br />With that wave of confidence came the feeling that I was, in a way, impenetrable. I was the same exact person I had been the day before, but now I was being treated better and the older kids wanted to be friends with me. It didn't matter if I was in a movie or not, I had made these people laugh when they asked me questions. I had found myself engaging, charismatic -- even sublime at times. I had all the charm I believed a true movie star to have. Who cares if I had lied about starring in Private Benjamin Returns? In the midst of all the commotion, I truly believed something magical had happened. I had burst into womanhood, and never felt more alive. I decided right there and then that I was going to tell the truth. <br />I ran into Jason on my way to school. "Did you hear anything about the movie?" he asked.<br />"Well, Jason, I have some bad news," I told him. "Goldie broke her collarbone in a hang-gliding accident. It looks like it's been postponed till summer."<br />"Wow! What a bummer," he said.<br />"Yeah, but the great news is, I'm in talks to be in one of Madonna's new videos."<br />"No way!"<br />"Yup," I told him. "Which means I'm going to have to be on a grueling workout regimen." I had very little control of the things that were flying out of my mouth. All I knew was that it felt better than confessing. Plus, the idea of getting imaginary rock-hard abs was intoxicating.<br />I spent the rest of the week confirming one ridiculous tale after another, and by Friday I was exhausted. Although the benefits of my newfound fame outweighed the burden of coming up with one celebrity tale after another, I was so disgusted and bored with myself after a week, I was ready to throw myself out of my second-story window. I spent upward of an hour contemplating whether or not the fall would actually end my life or just severely injure an ankle.<br />I knew if I ever came clean I would look like a complete jackass, so Jodi and I made a pact. She would confirm all my lies, and then after Christmas break the following week, we would slowly plant seeds that I was leaving the business. "I've had enough!" was the phrase we agreed I would use.<br />The teasing from the older girls had come to a screeching halt, and now when I walked down the halls, almost everyone said hello, and a couple of kids even curtsied. Surprisingly, Principal Hiller never called my house again. Jodi's estimation was that he probably thought he had a psychopath on his hands and felt it was safer to take himself out of the equation.<br />The Friday afternoon before I was to return to school after Christmas break, Jodi and I were in my sister Sloane's room trying on her training bras when my father yelled my name.<br />I ran downstairs wearing my sister's bra and a pair of parachute pants when my father handed me a manila envelope without looking up. "You got something in the mail."<br />I opened the envelope and nearly climaxed. I ran right up to Sloane's room and jumped up and down. "Jodi! Jodi! Look at what I got!" It was a signed autograph from Goldie Hawn. She hadn't inscribed it the way I had requested, and obviously I would hold that against her in any future negotiations, but it was made out to me, and it was signed by her.<br />Jodi and I were jumping up and down like a pair of newlyweds. We ran into my room and grabbed a Sharpie. Luckily Goldie's handwriting wasn't very legible, so I added "Mom" in parentheses at the end, and, after much discussion, since I didn't want to continue with the lying but wasn't willing to tell the truth either, Jodi and I agreed to leave the note open-ended. This is what I added: "My collarbone is on the mend. Can't wait to start working with you, if the movie ever gets made. Aaargh! You're a star!"<br />"Well," she said, "it would sure take a lot of guts to come forward now."<br />"You're absolutely right," I told her, putting the signed photo in my backpack. "Don't let me forget to make copies of this to pass out at school."<br />After the picture had made its way through school, things started to die down, and only once in awhile would someone mention my movie-star status. In those instances, I made sure not to overembellish the fantasies that played out in my head. I would downplay my role as a Hollywood starlet by telling people I was becoming more and more interested in behind-the-scenes work, and what I really had my eye on was directing.<br />The lesson I learned that year was a valuable one. If you're going to make up an enormous untruth, make sure you tell it to people you are not spending the rest of the school year with. I can only imagine what Clay Aiken has to deal with on a daily basis.<br />Copyright © 2008 by Chelsea Handler </div></div>NotANiceGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08604665426732081912noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019207730664672567.post-22342810540598663052008-04-18T11:27:00.000-07:002008-04-18T11:52:31.863-07:00Jenny You Married A Douchebag!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjKpPvLk3yxVSE8kAfBwKqsY9mR3nUY_zpLQNBwKs35ZbLlbmu01Mg-K2_SOwjlhl3N769_lA7Sk-Qk8VHWq-klHgLVZnZpl5AE-Y9hVCOOIMnKDg383DLLUmhr9fO_dMyjjswB-5vO6s/s1600-h/jenny8.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190659278634783122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjKpPvLk3yxVSE8kAfBwKqsY9mR3nUY_zpLQNBwKs35ZbLlbmu01Mg-K2_SOwjlhl3N769_lA7Sk-Qk8VHWq-klHgLVZnZpl5AE-Y9hVCOOIMnKDg383DLLUmhr9fO_dMyjjswB-5vO6s/s320/jenny8.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Dear Jenny,</div><br /><div>Wow! I flew to Florida in November to take engagement photos for you & we partied in St. Barts for my birthday in February... So now I find out what my punishment is for complaining when you decided to bring your lame ass fiance on my girls only birthday weekend! </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>You didn't invite me to your wedding.... nice.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Since you went out of your way to make this point, I just want to thank you for the endless supply of lame jokes, chain mail, and stupid video clips. The silent treatment would've been better. You've certainly decided to choose the bitchiest way of paying me back for complaining when I covered 100% of the costs on my birthday vacation. You not only traveled for free but you had the balls to show up with your faggy fiance and some other things that could've landed me in a shit hole prison in St. Barts. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>When I got there late you two had been there for a few days & STAYING IN MY MASTER BEDROOM, you sure didn't get bent out of shape and leave when the other husbands did. You sent Mr. D-bag packing and partied up on my dime. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I think you're an asshole! I'm so happy that I didn't suffer through going to your ghetto wedding. You did me a favor by "punishing" me for St. Barts & hiding the fact that you were getting married. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>As my wedding gift to you, I'd like to pass on this pearl of wisdom; it's not normal for two 25 year olds to live with their parents. You two have been living in his mom's house since we met. Now you're married and living with his mom. I think the fact that you hate his mom should be reason enough to grow up and move into your own place!!! This is your life Jenny! You did great for yourself! The only thing I can say is that your a beautiful girl..... and you're married to a douchebag!!! <a href="http://www.hotchickswithdouchebags.com/">http://www.hotchickswithdouchebags.com/</a></div>NotANiceGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08604665426732081912noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019207730664672567.post-49046381768117690392008-01-07T16:25:00.000-08:002008-01-07T17:04:24.736-08:00Rehab Is For QuittersSo I was just reading that 9 out of 10 people break their New Year's resolutions! I think this is why I don't make resolutions. I don't swear off drinking or anything else. I don't worry about hitting rock bottom. Hell, I hit rock bottom all the time!!! Just kidding. I don't need a day of the year to say I'm going to make a change. All I need is to wake up next to a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">tranny</span> midget to know that I don't need to do that again.<br />I heard the following story and thought it was some funny yet fucked up shit!! I have to share...<br />We'll call her skid mark....or SM. It's long but best told from a first person narrative.<br />Skid mark says, " I was at a little bar in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Brentwood</span> called the El <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Dorado with</span> a friend. I like her so much because the moment a glass of cheap wine hits her <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">collagen</span> injected lips, she is minutes away from being on her back. We're a great team! This is also a girl who once sat me down to tell me she had joined Sex Addicts anonymous. and in response to my laughing said, "SM this is very serious!!! It's about being addicted to sex with strangers!" "Isn't that just being a whore?" I asked her?<br />She went to a few meetings and then quit, once she realized that any sort of promiscuity was not going to be cured by 50 other people who were trying to have sex with her.<br />At El <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Dorado</span>, we came upon two cute boys whom we had met a couple of months before when she had gone home with one of their friends. She and the guy never spoke again, a mere one-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">nighter</span>. Apparently her dream of getting gang banged never came to fruition, so she at least wanted to frequent the same circle of friends. See? Dreams can come true!<br />Since their friend was a babe and I hadn't had sex with anyone they knew, I was deemed the sweet naive one. We were talking a hitting it off when I excused myself to do a little mingling, mostly because I had gas and didn't want to let one loose in front of him. Minutes later I returned to conversation raping him when he said, "What's that smell?" My fart had ricocheted its way back to me. "Ugh gross, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">somebody</span> totally farted!" I said. My gas was really acting up so I decided to cut my losses, and take a dump. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">That'll</span> teach me to eat Mexican on a weekend. As I left the bathroom, I ran into my friend and she said, "We're totally going home with these guys!"<br />I pulled her aside and explained my situation and how there had been no toilet paper in the bathroom. I really wanted to shower. She reminded me that she'd been my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">wingman</span> on more than one occasion and that they'd surely have a bathroom etc. for me to clean up.<br />When we got to their place I immediately cleaned up.<br />What a disaster! The sex was OK, but for some reason I lost interest.....an consciousness.<br />I woke up to a blinding sunlight hitting me in the eyes. This guy had no blinds. This place was turning into a torture chamber.<br />I climber over him to get dressed then saw my underwear at the foot of the bed with a giant skid mark on them! I looked to see if he was awake, and when I saw he wasn't, I lunged toward them. I did something I'm still confused about and threw them out of his window and into his backyard. I was thinking of new identities and cities to move to hoping he hadn't seen this. I grabbed the rest of my clothes and ran to the bathroom.<br />The door was cracked partway open and I heard footsteps coming my way. I peeked my head out to see my friend coming toward me in nothing but black wool men's socks hiked up to her knees. Did my guy and his friend live with his grandpa? Did she have a threesome with grandpa? Did she have an extra toe she was trying to hide? There was dried mascara streaked down her face and her hair was insane. She explained that she hadn't had a pedicure and her feet were looking like something out of Jurassic Park. Then we heard a dog barking in the yard.<br />"Whose dog is that?"<br />My guy came up and grabbed me from behind, then I saw <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">cujo</span> walking toward me with my underwear in his mouth! I just kept hoping that the soiled part had been digested.<br />I asked, whose underwear are those? Do you just bring random girls here?!?!? He said he had no idea and the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">cujo</span> walked up and I saw the piece of the stained underwear hanging from his lower mouth.<br />The look of disgust on his face was mortifying! "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Ew</span>" was all I heard on my way out.I got in the car and slammed the door. As I was pulling away I see my friend running after the car in a t-shirt and grandpa socks. "Wait for me!!!"<br />I slowed the car in order for her to get in and she screamed, "What the fuck is your problem!!?!?!?"<br />I told her the story and by the time I was done her mascara was no longer dry.<br />We were both hungry and going anywhere public was out of the question. So we opted for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">McDonalds</span> and as we pulled up, saw a sign that said, "The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">McRib</span> is back" "Back from where?" I asked. "I dunno, but you better not have one!" she said.<br />It took many sleepless nights to get over the humiliation of what had taken place. Where did I go wrong in life? I would lie awake wondering how many pair of underwear Mexicans went through each year. Once the initial mortification wore off, I realized that this was a gift. I wouldn't have to learn twice about avoiding Mexican food on the weekends."<br /><br />Who knows how many girls I've helped by sharing this story....NotANiceGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08604665426732081912noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019207730664672567.post-86711269782275518522007-12-20T09:14:00.000-08:002007-12-20T09:27:10.183-08:00Cheating Already?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeJUtUF110wf0lOqhsGnzh5Az19jzIQPB4KfNSP8gRDjZd3q5VQ8AiiG2muTslmrXVSwOXGmqtHs9HWJK_HpburO7MxgSM4HektNpXpgHBx37y5O7kGhN_2wWUh7W-Jh8hnu7CPbE8mSo/s1600-h/cheating_husband.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146104958437012146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeJUtUF110wf0lOqhsGnzh5Az19jzIQPB4KfNSP8gRDjZd3q5VQ8AiiG2muTslmrXVSwOXGmqtHs9HWJK_HpburO7MxgSM4HektNpXpgHBx37y5O7kGhN_2wWUh7W-Jh8hnu7CPbE8mSo/s400/cheating_husband.jpg" border="0" /></a> So disgusting... I was just in the elevator riding up with two male co-workers. They were openly discussing going out this weekend to get laid. The one saying he was going to do it was JUST married and is going on the honeymoon this upcoming week. Nothing like getting some <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">pre</span> honeymoon action with some bar <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">skank</span>. I met his wife once or twice when she was in getting her wedding gown and she's very pretty and was actually pretty cool considering he's a douche!<br />I'm the first person to have a slip-up but between the wedding & honeymoon and planning to f-around seems sleazy w/a great big helping of slime! Why get married? I get that marriages fall apart, as do relationships, but seriously this shocked me. I'm not easily shocked. I don't want to get married and cheat, I am not into the idea of cheating anymore. I can't say that I'll never ever in a million years do it again. I'm human and have weak moments etc. I don't hold anything against people NORMALLY, but this guy was openly bragging about it during the entire ride up and they were basically congratulating each other on keeping the player dream alive. It makes little sense. Why get married then? I remember when HE asked HER! He was so excited. Maybe it was all an act and he goes and sleeps with random women all the time but I'd hope that most people make an honest go of it when saying I DO! I'm not being judgemental b/c I've changed my ways. This would have disgusted me at any point of my sneaking around. I hope this isn't a common thing. I want to believe in marriage! It's bad enough that Santa, The Tooth Fairy, and Easter Bunny have been ruined for me! I don't want to believe that this is the new model of marriage!<br /><div></div>NotANiceGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08604665426732081912noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019207730664672567.post-88128966382340125832007-12-19T07:25:00.000-08:002007-12-19T07:45:45.619-08:00Bah-freaking-Hum Bug!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJKpgVR7ZbQI908SOkftkNaWUvGKr1PNvnmyyrFgPpk6fzohtM7FCMQ4FDTqSRb_Tpq5s0aCUVtzKbowy531kQYcJppjHRFclygukBRWDoiqQQRSpD54f7eRif1kEkerA8rvxzY15qlXs/s1600-h/humbug.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145705719752012450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJKpgVR7ZbQI908SOkftkNaWUvGKr1PNvnmyyrFgPpk6fzohtM7FCMQ4FDTqSRb_Tpq5s0aCUVtzKbowy531kQYcJppjHRFclygukBRWDoiqQQRSpD54f7eRif1kEkerA8rvxzY15qlXs/s400/humbug.gif" border="0" /></a> Christmas crazies are out in full force this year! Is there any reason to weave in & out of traffic & do a full 4 lane- lane change to exit at 95mph?<br />Some of these people look like they want to shank you just to get to a retailer's door before you!<br />I've not even done any shopping for anyone else this year. Part of this is that each time I enter a store I find 20 things I love. The rest is just that I don't want to deal with psychos to buy people I don't like that much things they don't want and will then have to return. So I'm getting to the point that I may just go ahead and pick out <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">pre</span> paid credit cards. Kids like them b/c they feel older paying with them & teenagers seem to prefer to pick out their own stuff so that just leaves mom, close friends, and J..<br />On the bright side, I watched Christmas Vacation & can't wait for the marathon of Christmas Story! One of my all time favorite movie quotes is,<br />Clark in Christmas Vacation: "Where do you think you're going? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Nobody's</span> leaving. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Nobody's</span> walking out on this fun, old-fashioned family Christmas. No, no. We're all in this together. This is a full-blown, four-alarm holiday emergency here. We're gonna press on, and we're gonna have the hap, hap, happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap-danced with Danny fucking Kaye. And when Santa squeezes his fat white ass down that chimney tonight, he's gonna find the jolliest bunch of assholes this side of the nuthouse."<br /><br />Ah, gets me every time!<br /><br />Well seriously, I hope everyone except my miserable troll of a co-worker has a lovely Holiday & no hangover to speak of!NotANiceGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08604665426732081912noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019207730664672567.post-43445989543605245502007-11-28T14:45:00.001-08:002007-11-28T15:08:24.718-08:00My Work Here is Done!<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138026474484409810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2S6K2LjYq4pkD4shIQ_vxM8mORwClB6hBPe17JTa7zdhvcyyuQiJ5fBhWOdrWtFf_K_Fj24rIdYJ7POdCkSzsJURjGjhn64sOzwmJhM4u9HKEdkpYebPeVKFvZyXXqtSYQAelGRLhcAk/s400/Jennifer+1.jpg" border="0" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglP5RIBaxxfjU5a4R8UJ6jhZMRWy2XtF9QvlJBzcexWRK-pirPTUmKx_3onJiDZn_2vHGEMp7rhNrACN6c0KHshUGDGQDY8hMUStIUQBYanperMY__na4M2fY2IcVNriN6PWoZgsFE_kg/s1600-h/jenny13.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138028673507665538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglP5RIBaxxfjU5a4R8UJ6jhZMRWy2XtF9QvlJBzcexWRK-pirPTUmKx_3onJiDZn_2vHGEMp7rhNrACN6c0KHshUGDGQDY8hMUStIUQBYanperMY__na4M2fY2IcVNriN6PWoZgsFE_kg/s400/jenny13.jpg" border="0" /></a> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138028102277015138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh62VPdKxJeRxFppFqYVSxoH8Tuf3fdMqITgAMYnZGCIjkG4O-fQT6BG_6HigwOJGA7EPA1Z7xMcWJZE_ffyIQeH60j3kQglP5pzvKqk1zHEH4u6TF5oq2YbxeTbob-XrBEiqZbqpsRLPs/s400/jenny11.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138027853168911954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXAgDDYk4UNdCd1UItfG0FQ3VjMygFVF6I9DDX_H-y9C1qogzT1i_d7-2EbSc4rn04pZHOU6czVZLkc9pz55AJppHcM1PChaN3cEiTEviEBJxFZgifRN4e5fotb5dFg9LN-IKNyiZv51g/s400/jenny10.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138027599765841474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNDVf6TzgD6AO62Fma29Wmp6yq8oZKtNY3PSTJLByEYLKsit5WtUM6-v_No4bOJlX7a1AwK-4Ec8Dkl5IBytQ-enjIGvvGK4diN0gHuAJ7VSGTnviXl6U31B7GHJd8OKwYDSdHZjmfq-g/s400/jenny9.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138027479506757170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKT9KhhibbHXzS2TBscU-1wnW-9Ep8NdCZIz-J2fRKSmMUbggX_E4jMyMghDJlJqqWXE7ssryIyyrGRbpUTrMSKeKBM3qnX7303r_GH0_xRaMUwu4_QJf0TKguPmvCcEyRVdejILFWalo/s400/jenny8.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138027316297999906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYjr8dOX6ZmSGWdjPIMqLd4hrUZ9KR208Zmnh1yt1amNYJUf2Vd581ooZ-yyNTtdAx6CF_smEXNZxml61rMaUh9qodGPbUhNI2_a9W6Tc9AIJ9CQoDBWpBCnrYg3YnnbGQTnczBF9VZoY/s400/jenny7.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138027200333882898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq-mt7EdKFLFU5Ues9dY-Y0a1K3DdE9D924jWnzCa_-BCkkcFa9oLry099P2DszkHpNQAKXXYJcEaB8xV96xEu53k_M8nEniq5zInBF3ggRMmmiaIlH3smirt5brez9gKW7aNYbhm3ASQ/s400/jenny6.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138027071484864002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb9qhtBHzeGZgeOsmcnLYh3fZxm_l7y1VX3z3tHo0RAZMpoYoTQEwp3VYMHh4-jO485qaeaj92vi19lv8J5RL7k4ckI27EDURWmAo_tDJ3dnKNhJt7BtP_otR7zcoPeb_z71GJIluS7XM/s400/jenny5.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138026934045910514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVFd3PqF2bjQxe-A484lCw4QX_BM3GBC9OgVOKRYC0-KrVH0qNQ9eQheJ5m17NlMfYG7X68FNNvUPyKgDjp2K-9QZkMJAl_KAsa6jRQwdpoG83Fyj81fNAdIkiCrxeWI97_RpwpDZ58J0/s400/jen15.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138028484529104498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy2hyphenhyphenIwH22-sjTI_aURpaDykVIIBsynI1zEOvw5EBW9eOFC05oMIeK_cthGo3OI66uazjgd89M5acI-qlNrr8glgS3H9iQlXuuYzKxVBVSURpnTCvplCt695_5lcq1fFUlnuIhesvlZ3U/s400/jenny12.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div><span style="color:#3333ff;"><strong><em> These are in no particular order. I liked some of the blurred ones so I added. They just had a cool vibe. I took a ton more but I need to review them with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">JC</span> (my friend) and her fiance (the goofy looking guy! Just kidding... not really. They are very happy & she looked lovely & had lots of wardrobe changes but we had so much fun today. I'll be sad to go home (just a little) but I got to see my friends. They're all getting married & making babies! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Eeek</span>!<br /></em></strong></span><br /><br /><div></div></div>NotANiceGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08604665426732081912noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019207730664672567.post-49020304737811875472007-11-26T08:10:00.000-08:002007-11-26T08:28:46.683-08:00Me again...<div><div><div><br /><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDufTcRXa-f2SS5kGayvA7Bnd-Yl-dZLd-wW3uY4XZukxbmg1PTgTweCEAjOAZW6oSqvJpIg4IFMz7FbDSKMZsfWhIPr-VDKRBHIF0ddXwUY2DEBy4cqmCvmntUD59A61Ps33n9eAuIq4/s1600-h/max.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137183015921919346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDufTcRXa-f2SS5kGayvA7Bnd-Yl-dZLd-wW3uY4XZukxbmg1PTgTweCEAjOAZW6oSqvJpIg4IFMz7FbDSKMZsfWhIPr-VDKRBHIF0ddXwUY2DEBy4cqmCvmntUD59A61Ps33n9eAuIq4/s400/max.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div>The weather was beautiful & I actually decided to mess around with the timer & got two cool shots with Max. (The dog) These are my first attempts at getting on the other side of my lens. </div>It would have been even better if I didn't look like I was strangling Max! He's alive & well, no worries!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ7uBDTBW3oFTSaVZmMwAyGX6iGKDJ2tiKcdF_d7vAbXJyr42QUvRvFEEcQdX3sNix7hmHyux-2hHCQisKgLFHgMwnhIBEuwWWqwftrV94xVw6VCo7GnKh94iOY0SivUDYtzqI9s2H2Co/s1600-h/max+and+me.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137183638692177298" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ7uBDTBW3oFTSaVZmMwAyGX6iGKDJ2tiKcdF_d7vAbXJyr42QUvRvFEEcQdX3sNix7hmHyux-2hHCQisKgLFHgMwnhIBEuwWWqwftrV94xVw6VCo7GnKh94iOY0SivUDYtzqI9s2H2Co/s400/max+and+me.jpg" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqUv8EAMV2ou24QvFJ9kChaExgnOAA1v9kcJRu4F-azEXM9vW9yC-6rz7DXyCuiWgF5bxkX2gYo1xx_gebSXn4G6nrCOz2_7uNeHtQGWIyKtqNq7UJXEWkwhCSXmksDnCMKyFR12rFGFM/s1600-h/me.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137183930749953442" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqUv8EAMV2ou24QvFJ9kChaExgnOAA1v9kcJRu4F-azEXM9vW9yC-6rz7DXyCuiWgF5bxkX2gYo1xx_gebSXn4G6nrCOz2_7uNeHtQGWIyKtqNq7UJXEWkwhCSXmksDnCMKyFR12rFGFM/s320/me.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />I looked goofy or just pissed but the yard & evergreens & even the pool cover gave me some cool backdrops.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCvG5EaN4GBnOud47f1KCiQwri084DN4S5jhlqWWzaMCRLcu8hf9pj-mgvbt4iuLlQTdb4k-NznF2KYo6KUCgIyHY0XWD9_qwCU3r1CBRHPtVd4jQKBy27Rlupc1LQ5Liy_rTojw0-RCw/s1600-h/pissed.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137184368836617650" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCvG5EaN4GBnOud47f1KCiQwri084DN4S5jhlqWWzaMCRLcu8hf9pj-mgvbt4iuLlQTdb4k-NznF2KYo6KUCgIyHY0XWD9_qwCU3r1CBRHPtVd4jQKBy27Rlupc1LQ5Liy_rTojw0-RCw/s200/pissed.jpg" border="0" /></a> It was so unbelievably warm but then it rained & the air got a chill to it so we all bundled back up. My aunt went sleeveless throughout the whole thing (which is rare this time of year). We got to eat TG dinner outside though so that was great. These are the lucky photos where I don't look crappy & guess I'm pretty happy with how they look....they were fun! I love my Aunt's dog Max!<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137184733908837826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsWlW5qfENwlQK-Om83eSKNDfXpx6TWhsVlttbOfzI8mxuLaUVijavJZFKRtQDBewnhztaAXjJwFLwDAnjwfrFIuwW7DQxWzG4zDQAMK4FRaWWbnUzuPxobF9rRQrWqusPh2R4zcygxOQ/s200/thoughtful.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><div> </div></div></div></div></div></div>NotANiceGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08604665426732081912noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019207730664672567.post-7924168324380875742007-11-21T11:39:00.000-08:002007-11-21T12:29:00.312-08:00Count Down to Christmas...(aka Highway to Hell)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyIfw30OmE2twbgHwXwtITGy-XO56pWuzP_i_ueuwBuRD6K_Ve1Qrgf_qJu7DrQ5svZ-b9Daot-eUOzPN4k2zcigqpL2fLogC6zm2vvNdIBJ-7NFcamz3O7Bs5VYWxmGYzMa4fjsAv1jY/s1600-h/survive.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135388896413230434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyIfw30OmE2twbgHwXwtITGy-XO56pWuzP_i_ueuwBuRD6K_Ve1Qrgf_qJu7DrQ5svZ-b9Daot-eUOzPN4k2zcigqpL2fLogC6zm2vvNdIBJ-7NFcamz3O7Bs5VYWxmGYzMa4fjsAv1jY/s400/survive.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#ff6600;">HAPPY THANKSGIVING ALL!</span></strong></div><br /><div><span style="color:#33cc00;">Tonight officially begins my countdown to Christmas. I'll be making a ton of cheesecakes & pies since I'm in charge of dessert this year. I decided to cheat a little and went to Starbucks to purchase a tray of cranberry bliss bars because they are so delicious. I'll be making dessert until the wee hours of the morning & since my mother conveniently twisted her ankle I've been stuck running all of her errands...because I don't have my own life or anything mom. Tis' the season my ass! I've got the sneaking suspicion that she's planning on having me prepare the pate since she asked me to go purchase the ingredients. A few TG's ago, she opted to have shoulder surgery <strong><em>before</em></strong> the holidays instead of after, against the doctor's recommendation, and I was up grinding the stuff until 2 am. <em>Then</em> my lovely aunt decided not to do her part & I got stuck with that too, since my mom had the ingredients. This created a perfect storm when my aunt showed up Thanksgiving morning all surly and hungover and I was still busy doing her appetizers. (You couldn't wait until TG day to get loaded?) She started criticizing my cooking and though I usually wouldn't care, she kept saying how it wasn't the way she does it & that it was wrong.... HELLO, then show up and do it yourself if you're so perfect. That's about when the steam starts coming out of my ears. I tried so hard to tune her out but she kinda sounds like Dino from the Flintstones which makes it tough.</span></div><div><span style="color:#33cc00;">Since I'm also the <strong>only one</strong> who usually shields her from my mom and her sisters when she is being obnoxious (which is all of the time) I started to take it personally. After a good hour of nagging, I lost it and the verbal smackdown ensued and she ended up leaving. I think the only reason I didn't get in trouble for being so disrespectful & awful was because everyone was happy to have the peace and quiet. Also because the incident happened before Grandma got there & most of my family didn't witness it. (They were so disappointed not to see Auntie Linda put in her place by the least likely family member) I called and apologized but she wouldn't come back over so I packed up a ton of food and drove my little sister over to deliver it. She was happy with that. So all was well. We aren't laughing about it yet but we're close again so it's OK now. I still want to poison her occasionally but I never would because I do love her & I know she means well & where would I dump her body? Then again, the list of suspects would be quite enormous! </span></div><div><span style="color:#33cc00;">Nah! She's family. If your family can't drive you crazy, who can?<br /></span></div><div><span style="color:#33cc00;">Well hopefully you all have a very peaceful and wonderful Thanksgiving! Be safe if you're travelling and enjoy the time off of work! I'll be on my best behavior! If I'm not, you'll be the first to hear my side of the story!</span></div>NotANiceGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08604665426732081912noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019207730664672567.post-37557742867375128182007-11-16T12:28:00.000-08:002007-11-16T12:42:32.583-08:00When Harry Met Sally?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNWkF4_-uMsrazZYHUIUrKIIymHAzacchU3Rceues_Qqu4rhWwee2OOTC7_rOoYeDgEe8H8zBgcq1yVmTONWEgZX0vCBGdO_URIVSe0Awqg22vSGY3aJQenM4tSE4DoCGb5pGRC6IpUfA/s1600-h/cat-slap.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133541308856673618" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNWkF4_-uMsrazZYHUIUrKIIymHAzacchU3Rceues_Qqu4rhWwee2OOTC7_rOoYeDgEe8H8zBgcq1yVmTONWEgZX0vCBGdO_URIVSe0Awqg22vSGY3aJQenM4tSE4DoCGb5pGRC6IpUfA/s400/cat-slap.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br />Can’t men & women just be friends? I admit that it’s rare that I’ve had a male friend and not even wondered what things would be like on a different level. A couple ex-boyfriends were friends first & sometimes I was able to go back to just being friends with one of them. I have one male friend who will NEVER be anything but a friend. He’s almost 19 years older than I am, a single dad, and just an all around nice person. We don’t discuss sexual experiences or anything explicit or flirt EVER. I don’t & just don’t want to think of him that way. I know he does his thing & he knows that I do mine. He now lives two doors down from me since I moved. I even considered passing on my property when I realized it was so close since I didn’t want him to feel like I was going to expect to hang out all the time.<br />I picked up a bunch of storage bins from Home Depot & gave some of the extras to my friend Bill. J got all pissed b/c when I stopped over, I made plans for the following evening to watch a movie with Bill and his son providing J didn’t have anything planned that would conflict.<br />When I told J, he said that he didn’t like it. He basically said that it wasn’t right & I shouldn’t go, and that anyone would agree with him. We’ve been fighting since Tuesday night as a result. I may have been a cheat, but I’ve passed up on it since I’ve been with J. I don’t think of my friend that way. I prefer to go over between 9 & 10 pm so I can say hi to the kids but still have a little “grown up” time when they go to bed at 10. ( i.e. Not having to be mindful of language while talking about my day)<br />J won’t admit that he’s jealous & insecure and I won’t give up a friend that has been there for me through thick and thin. I don’t even hang with the one I dated because that’s a potential danger. Yesterday was T’s birthday & I didn’t even drop by his party.<br />I’m feeling controlled, and like a possession. I feel that he’s gotten too comfortable being joined at my hip & if it’s not a trust issue, it’s the fact that he doesn’t have 100% of my attention. I’ve let him go everywhere with me & when I don’t, it’s a fight. This is my friend and I’m at the point where I just don’t feel as if he’s entitled to come along. Bill said that he’d like us to both come over after Thanksgiving craziness is over. For now, J just has to deal with me flying solo. I already feel as though I’m going to just start doing more on my own b/c he’s too (________)??? If Bill were a straight chick it’d be fine! (J also has an issue with me hanging with one of my sales reps b/c she is gay and she’s interested in me.) Apparently I just don’t have a say in who I’m interested in & if someone likes me then it’s on! I’ve been totally faithful & I don’t want to be with anyone else physically. When did I become his property? I know how it could appear but I’ve never been one to give a shit & neither has J so for him to say that feels like an excuse. If I am wrong, I just can’t see it.</div>NotANiceGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08604665426732081912noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019207730664672567.post-43812959171720994102007-11-07T13:36:00.000-08:002007-11-07T14:52:18.630-08:00NYC Weekend<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdnDtDEsy3leEgfIJS1HLQL8girgpbWB3L63qWRmrQ7ddmAHdpGvr4BPO-0XhjvQMYrx09X4s866DGM45RrYGj4rf-Vzr44X1DrOd4q7pynUw-GsJb8wdsGlZ6FiX22ZL9u9Ti-BlIvdw/s1600-h/micah+and+caleb.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130221146724136722" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdnDtDEsy3leEgfIJS1HLQL8girgpbWB3L63qWRmrQ7ddmAHdpGvr4BPO-0XhjvQMYrx09X4s866DGM45RrYGj4rf-Vzr44X1DrOd4q7pynUw-GsJb8wdsGlZ6FiX22ZL9u9Ti-BlIvdw/s200/micah+and+caleb.jpg" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk8CdZ3QrTz9joVlrJgDckGaSgj5CopbeP_triLGjQaBx1qWl2ZMSVKML68OjgfyDJmxW-OK3WIIHen1jT3EcOoAU-IbVqfdTWA0fsS8uskLbDTiB779kp2Ayv_dXgtASC08wc-NjGeq4/s1600-h/moon.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130234856259745570" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk8CdZ3QrTz9joVlrJgDckGaSgj5CopbeP_triLGjQaBx1qWl2ZMSVKML68OjgfyDJmxW-OK3WIIHen1jT3EcOoAU-IbVqfdTWA0fsS8uskLbDTiB779kp2Ayv_dXgtASC08wc-NjGeq4/s320/moon.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZinO1Rv7Vh8LhReLLCxc-PPD_mp5oAZnVqXm0x9wjpuY1YN6WpEbrRtaI3S2qNNibm1ze4iLISzICdBqB2elhdK0sc9QPehawDLyT7uHRmIBlEjfNrSr5BuDbDombfiZpQxaeXUkG138/s1600-h/mic.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130219982787999458" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZinO1Rv7Vh8LhReLLCxc-PPD_mp5oAZnVqXm0x9wjpuY1YN6WpEbrRtaI3S2qNNibm1ze4iLISzICdBqB2elhdK0sc9QPehawDLyT7uHRmIBlEjfNrSr5BuDbDombfiZpQxaeXUkG138/s200/mic.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmLDM9StBip5O3msxfcOaFhOYslRra6-EhYyvXEmUxalujDU-zs_TGZXWqC9jcZ_moc10orGeWpI-nBrOlkGijxEGoWvWdeyep2Tb6iJcyFgOE12ikbAWMgZjhS-vzwK750m-MnGRe-Wo/s1600-h/i+see+a+bird.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130219802399373010" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmLDM9StBip5O3msxfcOaFhOYslRra6-EhYyvXEmUxalujDU-zs_TGZXWqC9jcZ_moc10orGeWpI-nBrOlkGijxEGoWvWdeyep2Tb6iJcyFgOE12ikbAWMgZjhS-vzwK750m-MnGRe-Wo/s320/i+see+a+bird.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnHc8hglqAjwm0t_-jXXAmsUxnwgv7QYLFEbBnuqxIR8mkFgp7e7ycRim6cG51BXnuVHbNUJfQYNGR9aNd25rNtU2RFm34fdPwzwytHBQN6vmrCzjbmg6nBH3svcSYZn0b2JN8OuB2eC0/s1600-h/me+and+the+boys.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130219321363035842" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnHc8hglqAjwm0t_-jXXAmsUxnwgv7QYLFEbBnuqxIR8mkFgp7e7ycRim6cG51BXnuVHbNUJfQYNGR9aNd25rNtU2RFm34fdPwzwytHBQN6vmrCzjbmg6nBH3svcSYZn0b2JN8OuB2eC0/s400/me+and+the+boys.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><div>I had so much fun with my best friend and her two boys. She gave me permission to post photos that I took with them all around town! The NYC marathon tried to stop us but we managed to do a bunch of tourist things and still have a s-load of fun! Lady Liberty said What'up! We were Moonstruck & Wicked! The place was like a Zoo...It was such Bull!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJB_unfCYXlmQLoIICsTRQOEGpFp3yXbcjfodIwxtj3fk0nPDruEL0JhWrXaCShl31JNfv0JmVPYlV1Vr4nooz_Zh5d0IZE7Q1iXQv3CKBfbhri-Ow8h72zf5-XMQU7Ynu_7c0qUrOrSs/s1600-h/lookout.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130218243326244482" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJB_unfCYXlmQLoIICsTRQOEGpFp3yXbcjfodIwxtj3fk0nPDruEL0JhWrXaCShl31JNfv0JmVPYlV1Vr4nooz_Zh5d0IZE7Q1iXQv3CKBfbhri-Ow8h72zf5-XMQU7Ynu_7c0qUrOrSs/s320/lookout.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlCw2gfungFsYkkD0O8D2yXXYvsMM5bQSti1RRwwQjivVixBwmX4oPZyRid01byE3AzZ8GwEp06vVIv_ec2-7LcKr6KHvxSlGSbkAS5eJjveHgahjzPqzO_7dgkYDeIamV2GN6aJC5cKw/s1600-h/cab.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130216392195339842" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlCw2gfungFsYkkD0O8D2yXXYvsMM5bQSti1RRwwQjivVixBwmX4oPZyRid01byE3AzZ8GwEp06vVIv_ec2-7LcKr6KHvxSlGSbkAS5eJjveHgahjzPqzO_7dgkYDeIamV2GN6aJC5cKw/s320/cab.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130218041462781554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQnQx1pKMXmaNWvSg9rIcgi0VMXk4aKMCGgJVyGqclJ_SvRnakNOLkAvGP1EU5RPqjWNFFExrNGN1_6DWukZFddoXiUxVfiVpB4dX3mRV05i42IHIzHzRxxOumH0iTsO7Yy0YY55gf_EU/s400/caleb+cab.jpg" border="0" /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTMJ4kFQmtZfwLk-gJcuX16u3r49RfQge5MkmZbMV1W1YCGdEI9c9Nc9t1Nu1_WsywNdPd8rz9byj50Hzw3RsqByKsWwGlzXi-KmewApnHLrU4wfCdtMzg2aaj7uoSuREasFmG-KVFrVI/s1600-h/bull.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130217629145921122" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTMJ4kFQmtZfwLk-gJcuX16u3r49RfQge5MkmZbMV1W1YCGdEI9c9Nc9t1Nu1_WsywNdPd8rz9byj50Hzw3RsqByKsWwGlzXi-KmewApnHLrU4wfCdtMzg2aaj7uoSuREasFmG-KVFrVI/s400/bull.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKE2zCG3JluA95mtFU58ErlEiE7nZLUoQew6sPYiV3K45uDstVuP8Emj8tie2nW1qamdIeLQIUsz24HsbO_GSCEZg4Apr6ihNplROwKcisyCAH-jHSRssRgegzM6c6F9jPQXp3qOUsaS0/s1600-h/wicked.jpg"></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiTKAV3QjNFviC3g0FZk8pssrAUNqshQjBKHgjqNo-bUV3wz7cIAXbT9WEYeFNP5FLPljjGLJzqg3ZlLKzYJJwdFQC-i7DfM-yeVa4cuMQw7g0Qy4se8QuoWLpPcPP6dTjBkbeu3OtB9k/s1600-h/penquin.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130220841781458690" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiTKAV3QjNFviC3g0FZk8pssrAUNqshQjBKHgjqNo-bUV3wz7cIAXbT9WEYeFNP5FLPljjGLJzqg3ZlLKzYJJwdFQC-i7DfM-yeVa4cuMQw7g0Qy4se8QuoWLpPcPP6dTjBkbeu3OtB9k/s400/penquin.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlz0cM2sAvLXfOsi1jXFdTpmxCfYv7gpQnV3q_AJ3miNshV_lOPOrex0807m8Zszqr8arJvNy4zgOO2J8ZhYMwQWgvrEUlVUikqRotFWSyIPkhLo8aMITtrEpAHikg39FtikfoKoMMC5M/s1600-h/cab.jpg"></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>NotANiceGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08604665426732081912noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019207730664672567.post-72393108144973669552007-11-02T10:04:00.000-07:002007-11-02T10:28:37.578-07:00There's Something About Magda...<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzkxOU2VJW52n7PcFEnE61bGoPjxBK72D4BB0-n2g0tQ91BWm_wsL3-0zXE0_VQdicjK4DtNRuTIX9dOtM-Ci-SOGnBFnbKhwqmM-QOYDEW6WnpBf4eypg785i599qzcZ-ShXkUjQcxX0/s1600-h/views+of+islands.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128293346358359570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzkxOU2VJW52n7PcFEnE61bGoPjxBK72D4BB0-n2g0tQ91BWm_wsL3-0zXE0_VQdicjK4DtNRuTIX9dOtM-Ci-SOGnBFnbKhwqmM-QOYDEW6WnpBf4eypg785i599qzcZ-ShXkUjQcxX0/s200/views+of+islands.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg5koduUV0zWE0r2B-gjYQIYPmt7nTKk9hWUFPdxOKi0QHJAGiDMzPgTStdkPgPMAOhw043enOo-04y02oQOwPPJVYZo2R_e9ZCHcM-zVjzcvtKvRLj7WZhUAnpbFvdsmWGSFNSpbACVg/s1600-h/Jjaxv-OvertanningIsADONT729-488-765-dont.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128292779422676466" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg5koduUV0zWE0r2B-gjYQIYPmt7nTKk9hWUFPdxOKi0QHJAGiDMzPgTStdkPgPMAOhw043enOo-04y02oQOwPPJVYZo2R_e9ZCHcM-zVjzcvtKvRLj7WZhUAnpbFvdsmWGSFNSpbACVg/s200/Jjaxv-OvertanningIsADONT729-488-765-dont.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>Oh so gross. I went on vacation a few years ago & while we were at the beach in Aruba, one of the men in the group kept getting followed by a woman that looked this way. I love the sunshine & have gone tanning but I also love my skin & the fact that it is not trying to escape from my body. SPF is easy to use...</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>So anyway I'll be going to St. Barts for a long weekend in Feb. & it reminded me of the Aruba thing. This woman must have lived on the sun for a long time & was very bony and making grunting sounds while following my friend's husband around. I'll have to see if I can get some photos & if he's cool with it being on here. The photos are all of her back so you can see the horror on his face building with each shot! That was some funny shit!</div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgFuEUMFanQJbLTU9RwVciCwfrfrCNe2JTuzZkDzoB5aF8-S8QMZu9LEaxJxivcGi0RnaNhRi4I0yqj6sjuVbvfzXCI0vGYokpICXu4uTUBrapyXCWgyq-ahkYezEY4ugLTlhcYybT9CQ/s1600-h/infinity+pool+and+island.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128293208919406082" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgFuEUMFanQJbLTU9RwVciCwfrfrCNe2JTuzZkDzoB5aF8-S8QMZu9LEaxJxivcGi0RnaNhRi4I0yqj6sjuVbvfzXCI0vGYokpICXu4uTUBrapyXCWgyq-ahkYezEY4ugLTlhcYybT9CQ/s200/infinity+pool+and+island.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div>So I just got the photos from the house I rented & it rocks! I've put them up as well to try to keep the other image from burning into your mind's eye! I love it!!!!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgasGd_KtY_apgwC-84Hx94Q48n6vFOIhoPatZElR5ZyLAJajTpGsM-q-V6Yyowkm1ycaEt6YGfccFJJTdhljsM2Dowfkfac2TgS8Ji7XN7TPR2alnMn5WZK68v0c5P2OTfM3fsdBnbi7g/s1600-h/bed.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128295704295405090" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgasGd_KtY_apgwC-84Hx94Q48n6vFOIhoPatZElR5ZyLAJajTpGsM-q-V6Yyowkm1ycaEt6YGfccFJJTdhljsM2Dowfkfac2TgS8Ji7XN7TPR2alnMn5WZK68v0c5P2OTfM3fsdBnbi7g/s200/bed.jpg" border="0" /></a></div></div></div></div>NotANiceGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08604665426732081912noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019207730664672567.post-31659748828785475452007-10-30T11:28:00.000-07:002007-10-30T12:01:24.564-07:00Halloween<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqvTTzJ0KONmvdBFyfktx9YB7XIwqt2tQJaFh4vCeNacdLMR92xNdsKr01LvuTwutr6iNZWulTH1NUlzYhku0JarjBTxInovDCgkacr2KSFiHC_5H4MuOiozb1Ige3-Jbq5UVihJI-u1Y/s1600-h/PAR210677.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127204516314248674" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqvTTzJ0KONmvdBFyfktx9YB7XIwqt2tQJaFh4vCeNacdLMR92xNdsKr01LvuTwutr6iNZWulTH1NUlzYhku0JarjBTxInovDCgkacr2KSFiHC_5H4MuOiozb1Ige3-Jbq5UVihJI-u1Y/s320/PAR210677.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />So what are you dressing up as this year? I didn't have time to make a costume, though I think dressing as Lorena Bobbitt would send a certain message to the someone "special"....just kidding. I liked this photo I saw today. Great costume! I love Rene Magritte.<br />Previous years I've been: A tree with a witch crashed into it w/a don't drink & fly sign. A bag of groceries. A <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Firestone</span> tire with my head sticking out of the blowout (during that recall), Dr. Evil & used my little sister as mini me. The floor of a movie theatre, a flower in a pot- I even stuck a fuzzy bee on my cheek! Last year I did a vampire because it was easy & I ordered the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Lestat</span> contacts. I just wanted an excuse to wear a spiked collar to work!!!! Plus the fangs I had were great..... So give me your all time favorites- even if it's only been someone you saw dressed up! I saw a great costume one year in the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">village</span> parade. This guy was walking around in a clear casing with balloons inside. He was a lava lamp! Pretty cool....NotANiceGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08604665426732081912noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019207730664672567.post-60724055018037840862007-10-25T13:45:00.000-07:002007-10-25T13:53:49.214-07:00Serious Head Injuries Prompt Recall of Bumbo Baby Sitter Seats<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVWg1Q-5cuJIIv9oVzCw_poWIgqT4JFP98YKhMOmzfs_9cPWrmsLHl5l0vtQv3M_fD_Jp0N3Vi-89d5HIeM03RMHrFCjvHU3IUcYDV9pZTeXGTeE-Zu_qpioCBkzsnyTETMFPWvfGOk9k/s1600-h/08046.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125378841680836050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVWg1Q-5cuJIIv9oVzCw_poWIgqT4JFP98YKhMOmzfs_9cPWrmsLHl5l0vtQv3M_fD_Jp0N3Vi-89d5HIeM03RMHrFCjvHU3IUcYDV9pZTeXGTeE-Zu_qpioCBkzsnyTETMFPWvfGOk9k/s320/08046.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center"><strong>New Warnings and Instructions to Be Provided To Consumers</strong></div><div align="center"><strong></strong> </div><div align="left">This just explains so much about me. Who knew that falling on your head a bunch as a baby is bad for you? Probably my mom but she was most likely on the phone gossiping or smoking weed in the bathroom! I turned out just fine and I flipped my walker, climbed and fell out of my play pen, fell of the bunk bed, and there was an incident with my aunt, who is only 4 yrs. older than I am, that I still don't trust. Cause' I just sprung up out of my stroller and took a leap at 14 months old. Yeah, OK Aunt Sharyn. So besides the fact that I can never pull a Britney and shave my head, I still feel tat iM jus fineeeeeee! </div><br /><div></div><div></div><div></div>If you're interested in the recall here you go:<br /><div align="center"><a href="http://www.cpsc.gov/cpscpub/prerel/prhtml08/08046.html">http://www.cpsc.gov/cpscpub/prerel/prhtml08/08046.html</a></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><a href="http://www.cpsc.gov/cpscpub/prerel/prhtml08/08046.html"></a></div>NotANiceGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08604665426732081912noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019207730664672567.post-6316932941945683002007-10-24T14:00:00.000-07:002007-10-24T14:13:55.108-07:00What spreads faster than Paris Hilton's herpes?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZeZY0z_hbg9KA5ql_kXfUpiSKnPBygUs0wqWv4DuuCAm4V-9_FvcipR8wOaMQMUN9eGJ2hLopUm8YFcweEwJjVBjVAwP4HCvDP063NXcbBe6TFxBqe36v-kfFpPHP3CqAdsIq0nhqsBk/s1600-h/300px-AERONET_La_Jolla.2007296.aqua.250m"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125011408354289378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZeZY0z_hbg9KA5ql_kXfUpiSKnPBygUs0wqWv4DuuCAm4V-9_FvcipR8wOaMQMUN9eGJ2hLopUm8YFcweEwJjVBjVAwP4HCvDP063NXcbBe6TFxBqe36v-kfFpPHP3CqAdsIq0nhqsBk/s400/300px-AERONET_La_Jolla.2007296.aqua.250m" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><p>No, not her legs (though it may be a close match!)</p><p>Seriously, I might be a Yankee bitch but I hope all of you in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">SoCal</span></span> and those of you who have family there are doing well in spite of the wildfires. Contrary to popular belief, I don't believe that New York and the surrounding areas are the center of the Universe. </p><p>I was speaking to my co-workers about some fabric that was given to me this morning and a temp came up & asked me if I can believe how lucky I am. I said, "For free fabric?!?!?" He said, "No, that we aren't suffering the wildfire or flooding like Cali & New Orleans!" I then told him to pack up his shit and get out...just kidding... we all shared the sentiment & astonishment over the fact that the Santa Ana winds are gusting at 100 mph (according to our local news). I do hope that the winds let up so that the firefighters can kick some wildfire ass! Hang in there everyone! I'm thinking of you & will be following the news.... </p>NotANiceGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08604665426732081912noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019207730664672567.post-25543462276320739232007-10-19T10:17:00.000-07:002007-10-19T10:32:13.440-07:00Sapa Vietnam Church & Ben<div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGFwA39f6k1vkEfg1njak84jKAd8tI0DquXxk_LUKgn2jjdHtfYFtCrM7dJOF0NQPyY_3RGyeml6O-svBEwAb30yzF_0yfo4TmyR4vrWgUcgJ4BXRdsa38bxLB-16iu14vaPK31BEt_24/s1600-h/1002.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123099172949993122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGFwA39f6k1vkEfg1njak84jKAd8tI0DquXxk_LUKgn2jjdHtfYFtCrM7dJOF0NQPyY_3RGyeml6O-svBEwAb30yzF_0yfo4TmyR4vrWgUcgJ4BXRdsa38bxLB-16iu14vaPK31BEt_24/s400/1002.bmp" border="0" /></a> This is one of my faves. I took this in 1999 and always have a print hanging in my home & office. The scan is crap but I'm so in love with the photo. There's some that I took that were just amazing & I was still learning then so I had many happy accidents (What up Bob Ross!) I just love the clouds coming down onto the mountains and the rickety foot bridge. </div><p>There's some shots of lotus blossoms that I got that are almost surreal. Then I got one of these children shaking the outer shells of of rice grains and the dust coming off of the baskets they used. I just love it. I actually took one of the Brooklyn bridge when we were out on the water and it has been raining that day so there was a ton of condensation and fog obscuring the towers. I developed the film a week or two after 9/11 & it was eerie. I've never shared my work with people because I get shy. If it's for work, they take my cards and I don't have much say in what goes up so it's out of my hands. If it were up to me, they'd get so little that I'd be out of a job. I took some photos inside of Big Ben on a freelance assignment for my friend's company. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXVpX1Q6qCE4DyDy7kYrNfYmp1gwhOIF3ClHLMlDPdZ2u7Qec8aEAjeBqv2OZBY38ompz9iepiIx-4zQVw4490yLIgjtzbLKMV_CGw0M13YtgN2GwdRDlFdcnW_p8VzDExm5yeZk2uOac/s1600-h/3a10-28.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123101397743052498" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXVpX1Q6qCE4DyDy7kYrNfYmp1gwhOIF3ClHLMlDPdZ2u7Qec8aEAjeBqv2OZBY38ompz9iepiIx-4zQVw4490yLIgjtzbLKMV_CGw0M13YtgN2GwdRDlFdcnW_p8VzDExm5yeZk2uOac/s400/3a10-28.JPG" border="0" /></a>I'll include that since it's available to me right now.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123101174404753090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjCOsHi1KlJ9-begPAgUQhYmoyH3tC7T3cDdd-B9r8CVNrG0vRvVjnz9NFm0aeYSw8iMwV3CCkc67mV2YNCPgy792vNEPc9Wqp_3uIF3jTQ238z8tAoBjUX0U6dT547sQv4dPOwBiuXGw/s400/3A10-30.jpg" border="0" /></p><br /><br /><br /><p></p></div></div>NotANiceGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08604665426732081912noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019207730664672567.post-79676858994633111962007-10-19T07:08:00.000-07:002007-10-19T07:20:48.549-07:00What a Week...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge6QCP4jig7HuOhxR_b4l5SunmkxbDEvyfYsaSIn7tVShYrU3yyRRUfOpc0CBS2h8csye_lAM9WxwDNaUc9fS7QKwV1eVZa_lXX7KdiB3sghyphenhyphenNErU86Cv80TCYxtmCW7LBg-INN-ysI1Y/s1600-h/1001.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123049879610336914" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge6QCP4jig7HuOhxR_b4l5SunmkxbDEvyfYsaSIn7tVShYrU3yyRRUfOpc0CBS2h8csye_lAM9WxwDNaUc9fS7QKwV1eVZa_lXX7KdiB3sghyphenhyphenNErU86Cv80TCYxtmCW7LBg-INN-ysI1Y/s320/1001.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />So the strangeness continues but<br />luckily didn't go too far!<br />This is a bit "<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">em-bare-ass-ing"</span> but<br />oh well! I woke up at 5-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">ish</span> this<br />morning to J attempting to put<br />something of his where it just didn't belong.... HELLO!!! I'm up! He was sound asleep. I'm not sure whet led to it but I think we may not be sleeping naked after taking <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Ambien</span> for a bit! Hell if that's not the icing on the cake that has been this week, I don't know what is!!! So <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">TGIFF</span>!! The move should be official this weekend & J- if you do that again I have a few <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">power tools</span> with your name on them baby! So hopefully it doesn't come to that because I was hoping to get all my stuff moved & maybe have time to get unpacked enough to bring my kitty to the new place by Sunday evening! I hope that everyone has a great weekend & that my week of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">WTF</span> is nearly over!NotANiceGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08604665426732081912noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019207730664672567.post-12922678758838808562007-10-18T10:01:00.000-07:002007-10-18T11:03:52.656-07:00WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?!?!?!<div><div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrZICmr8ptsXshcyt_719kpnIvqTZNHXrx5GyA1NS7Re2Aeq3aU_Z7c1UV9J-oQ78hHQ-NgIBpJdaIvFfw9BEn7HTg8TtP-_YScXz_96c5SCwIZe0ikmfsMC6-z9DZA0tOwm2xFypjGAw/s1600-h/aFat1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122726945314317906" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrZICmr8ptsXshcyt_719kpnIvqTZNHXrx5GyA1NS7Re2Aeq3aU_Z7c1UV9J-oQ78hHQ-NgIBpJdaIvFfw9BEn7HTg8TtP-_YScXz_96c5SCwIZe0ikmfsMC6-z9DZA0tOwm2xFypjGAw/s200/aFat1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKjc3WaS9y9Hqkf_5tGL8U0KjMsPdxOlc9N-BCIFhNTQpNK78bQAUayv9IPi_LppMwQ4IdYezxxLEhg6hJjFbVZOMVgv35E0zU_QSlxegcCfLA9r63dJGHkOaCN9WcdZsU8YacoS0NqTk/s1600-h/aFat1.jpg"></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>The past few days have been filled with things that have made me say <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">WTF</span> out loud!</div><br /><div>Monday: I'm driving to work & I see a man trying to get his minivan <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">jump started</span>. This is not so unusual except that he's running around in his boxer shorts. Picture a very pasty, hairy, and chubby Jesus-looking dude in seriously thin pale tan boxers. I think he was wearing work boots with the body hair & boxers but I can't bet on it! I would have taken a picture with my cell but I was so shocked, I just froze and stared as I slowly drove by & I've lived and/or worked in NYC for a number of years so I've seen it all. All I could ask myself was WHAT THE FUCK!?!?!</div><br /><div>Tuesday: I took the day off of work because I had a follow-up with my doctor & am still trying to wrap up my move. So I go to the doctor to get some MRI results from an auto accident & my back doctor tells me that, "Incidentally, we found a very large cyst on your ovary." (He doesn't look up or make eye contact the whole time and is seriously freaking me out.) His assistant is watching me as he rattles off, "Prominent & partially <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">septated</span> cyst, about 4 centimeters, right mid-pelvis, slightly complex, right <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">adnexal</span> cyst" Then he looks up and sees me with tears welling up and says, "Here it's about this big"- and proceeds to pick up an item off his desk saying that he'd guess that's about 4 cm but mine is round and blah, blah, blah. Do I have a doctor b/c I need to get this, that and the other done. So knowing me & that I am not outwardly emotional, he presses on and I tell him, "OK! I get it! I'll make an appointment!" Then he pulls out a ruler, picks the stupid thing he's comparing my cyst to and measures it!!!! Then he says, "Hey look! 4 cm! I was right!!!" Yeah you DOC! WHAT THE FUCK!?!?!? Sorry about all the details but I must paint the picture.... because that was pretty insensitive. The man is book smart but as far as common sense... <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">nada</span>! So I went to Home Depot after and bought a bunch of really awesome tools & lumber and went home and made a kick ass closet organizer. I LOVE POWER TOOLS!!!! I also go some other kick-ass gadgets. Nothing like a little retail <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">therapy</span> & sawing, drilling, etc. to feel better!!! <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgdR2809pDG5Z4-THJ9ITO-K_2mar_0Bk2jX_z7_UiGLH4UbeTMZ7ZHquIgs-cPi2bMxfFvuW18Opz7wXJ0hyUDw05m9HggQuMnTVAGzUIEcrjFgdopYg9Nfm0mlNXSnT2E-qfayWLjjc/s1600-h/Power%20Tools.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122731691253180002" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgdR2809pDG5Z4-THJ9ITO-K_2mar_0Bk2jX_z7_UiGLH4UbeTMZ7ZHquIgs-cPi2bMxfFvuW18Opz7wXJ0hyUDw05m9HggQuMnTVAGzUIEcrjFgdopYg9Nfm0mlNXSnT2E-qfayWLjjc/s200/Power%2520Tools.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><div>Wednesday: So J came to see me @ the office and take me to lunch. I had my first <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">nooner</span>! It was AWESOME! When we were done playing grab ass, we grabbed some Thai. It was very nice. I can't believe I've not done that before!!! So anyway back to my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">WTF</span> stuff.... I was going to the place in the city that I am moving out of & see Jose my local homeless man. I barely recognized him. He's all cleaned up w/a new hair cut & clean clothes. If he didn't smile at me with that big <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">toothless</span> grin I wouldn't have recognized him at all!! <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuajcGujDTbLbckYRvfYsjodV969OTh3090Li0vbauYHpm_rxoY9bo7iQkIh_2rPnTttHxYpMWMPkPjvk3XdR_35zmeNgHv6rPlIoRsOHUpCu7B7Z2-zMPQ548jVTUSyWkupM1ddK5KPU/s1600-h/homeless.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122733885981468274" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuajcGujDTbLbckYRvfYsjodV969OTh3090Li0vbauYHpm_rxoY9bo7iQkIh_2rPnTttHxYpMWMPkPjvk3XdR_35zmeNgHv6rPlIoRsOHUpCu7B7Z2-zMPQ548jVTUSyWkupM1ddK5KPU/s200/homeless.jpg" border="0" /></a>Then he tried to shake my hand and it made me super uncomfortable because I don't want to make him feel bad but don't want any of the germs that go with wiping your ass in the streets. So I gave him a pat on the shoulder and then promptly washed my hands and sprayed <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Lysol</span> on the door knob, keys, and anything I touched. I feel like a bitch but oh well. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">WTF</span>?!?!?!</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Today: I accidentally backed into a parked car trying to pull out of my parking spot this morning. The owner of the car was right there and the smell of weed pouring off her was beyond strong! So I apologized while she cursed at me and asked if she'd like to exchange information. She then threatened to pull me out of my car and kick my ass. She couldn't have been more than 5 ft tall in shoes! I'm thin but athletic & 5'10". So then she says to me, "Just go, bro!" Last time I checked I had tits! Bro? Seriously? Then she threatened me again so I told her I'd be happy to call the police and fill out a report for insurance purposes as long as she was OK with the stench of her pal Mary Jane <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">emanating</span> from her car. Again, her response was, "Just go, bro!!! Just go, bro!!" I just didn't get it so again I thought to myself, "WHAT THE FUCK????" <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122736222443677314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie-ir0W_pynR6XUJeZqJTrTq0FhKkS6NCiIBaTIywtLRga21tMweCFBf-7eCAk3PBdrDyFNkB6G7xl46peqq9YNeHHV62UMa78GcMe_1mvO57CC8dUZy4OfTSnKuHV2UQngsNFWCNkbc0/s200/leaf_poster.jpg" border="0" /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>*****Special thanks to Eagle Eye for the post I read today over breakfast! You taught me something new (thank you) and kept me on my diet!!!*****************</div><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div>NotANiceGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08604665426732081912noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019207730664672567.post-20697011932380416632007-10-09T08:37:00.000-07:002007-10-09T08:51:15.309-07:00Secrets<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgInpBQyauZ-7Klmnp-MoGHxo9Caz_Br1FZtlohbLvVlqGINpgz7TiAapcCdfZIOt6zi7dyvze5BYQZaTsexOKcqNAFpinHizF4hjf6EENDBRkKcrvrVdnz4lZUmkY_qsvCfZSIFB8vF1Y/s1600-h/cone.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119364930814354994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgInpBQyauZ-7Klmnp-MoGHxo9Caz_Br1FZtlohbLvVlqGINpgz7TiAapcCdfZIOt6zi7dyvze5BYQZaTsexOKcqNAFpinHizF4hjf6EENDBRkKcrvrVdnz4lZUmkY_qsvCfZSIFB8vF1Y/s200/cone.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgykBqJbpoMYZXsKll6yt4hS0TugI7JF83CatCs7vb1anS4XjXIbfPI8Uvoz_yMslrZAAOpBv_D9WSYse0-Ow_hpF3bBmyMZt3SoaMVloofWyBRKukWC8sRN5D8BacGZdJ8ecI19c0ZRWY/s1600-h/pillow.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119364664526382626" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgykBqJbpoMYZXsKll6yt4hS0TugI7JF83CatCs7vb1anS4XjXIbfPI8Uvoz_yMslrZAAOpBv_D9WSYse0-Ow_hpF3bBmyMZt3SoaMVloofWyBRKukWC8sRN5D8BacGZdJ8ecI19c0ZRWY/s200/pillow.jpg" border="0" /></a> I'm so excited for this book. Part of starting my blog was because I had things to say & just can't journal. I don't trust anyone I know well enough with most secrets, thoughts, etc. and have had the displeasure of having a boyfriend go through my journal, write comments & on the next available page write, "If you still want to watch superbowl, call me." F-uuuuccckkkk Yyooouuu P! I should post your full name & address but I don't ever even want anyone to know that I dated you in the first place. So here are a few secrets from the site. I've skipped the more disturbing ones. Check it out for yourself... <a href="http://postsecret.blogspot.com/">http://postsecret.blogspot.com/</a> <div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHiM9mTWr4GP5qlI_o9iLjt8gzfQh7_32drJiPSfW0gwdrbB92bYS5cvqOTc0-HEjWIzD6mpAzOtTCYCN_zknRmDnsi_5a59LZ6LCyDJGIFmDH4oRAaVLmid0M1Gg7YkUIv_ncUJzKqJg/s1600-h/bff.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119364235029652994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHiM9mTWr4GP5qlI_o9iLjt8gzfQh7_32drJiPSfW0gwdrbB92bYS5cvqOTc0-HEjWIzD6mpAzOtTCYCN_zknRmDnsi_5a59LZ6LCyDJGIFmDH4oRAaVLmid0M1Gg7YkUIv_ncUJzKqJg/s200/bff.jpg" border="0" /></a> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119364454072985106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4ZSlaU4rMo3FnU0jOJ9O7Jt1I4iMstXQ10WRE2vw_riNDRtWJlequ-ur-y1ZdFILg7BNvLg4OL6RclfO28nHJKjOrraSISK076RAZweWN-gknk7fn5rfBaJynE1qh3djdsPmyOwgVKCY/s200/drink.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div>NotANiceGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08604665426732081912noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019207730664672567.post-35394542462838187302007-10-05T09:41:00.000-07:002007-10-05T10:03:00.177-07:00Liquid Lunch Friday!<div>Fashion week is over and things are slowly getting back to normal. The backstage screams for Xanax, Valium, Percocet, etc. have quieted. My feet are finally forgiving me for all those stilettos. My moving boxes are stuffed with so many lovely pieces from other designers & my lovely girls there!! I love you girls! I need some new photos to post! This one is scanned but classic. Forgive my hair. That was a bad decision many liquid Fridays ago!<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117895764236314050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-BCt1wDgAo_VhUJg9JN_qO58rOpCU-LFJXrtsyLnW9rIUCeL5Rw2qYke1k_R-ReCgB9278R5x8H4jLpXhprt2ymHVyuqLB0GATepkb4-Nd8tI0onHujrhmSuTRn7VK8015PPGcgQ2yp8/s400/sara.jpg" border="0" /> We were all out just having a bit too much fun & I was given the option of licking the giant dessert spoon clean. The damn spoon was the size of my hand!! So me not being a girl to turn down the challenge, went for it. Well I'm oblivious to the guy with his wife & baby at the next table staring. Then I am told how his wife got mad, and he's trying to explain himself out of it and just digging his grave deeper. So to his wife- I'm sorry. I just gotta have fun & can be a bit sassy at times. A few more drinks and it'll be surfacing again! Last liquid post was on my to cheat or not post... so you see where my mind was at! <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaWNlr6dD1dzTisVq6yjDx4Z8fYZOtnnEeWSQgU-C6_a_oClH_qAFoH22HN_O3_KlbvVa-fVKH2KYjkrdHPjtbwA1NyLidb-uR6QAoXDJTCtL61u1uwmInl5EVCJ8k2SGaDt9reSFKCeI/s1600-h/untitled8.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117897615367218642" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaWNlr6dD1dzTisVq6yjDx4Z8fYZOtnnEeWSQgU-C6_a_oClH_qAFoH22HN_O3_KlbvVa-fVKH2KYjkrdHPjtbwA1NyLidb-uR6QAoXDJTCtL61u1uwmInl5EVCJ8k2SGaDt9reSFKCeI/s400/untitled8.bmp" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>So going back to the city this weekend to hang at Sutton Place with my pals. I'll play on my swing & see what sort of sales will be around town. I want to pick up some new pieces for the new place..... Seriously the swing alone is just too much fun!! So I hope anyone who reads this has a great weekend! </div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidrtyUZYDjNLHrPNZBRDalIUQKFwFFtNgot4YwNIc6g_KqZB3uIaFXqVlcZ7bXVHsUqO2BfNIqaGCXeoEQe86oiSwefb0o5ISp1Jfne5i8CF1Q9Z0ObioWLmKZyw1Hquc3H_-2TES0SXI/s1600-h/untitled9.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117898809368126946" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidrtyUZYDjNLHrPNZBRDalIUQKFwFFtNgot4YwNIc6g_KqZB3uIaFXqVlcZ7bXVHsUqO2BfNIqaGCXeoEQe86oiSwefb0o5ISp1Jfne5i8CF1Q9Z0ObioWLmKZyw1Hquc3H_-2TES0SXI/s200/untitled9.bmp" border="0" /></a></div>NotANiceGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08604665426732081912noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019207730664672567.post-81262613981203511582007-09-14T13:02:00.000-07:002007-09-14T13:24:21.690-07:00Moving and the issues it causes...Moving... Well I'm moving into a new home. Sold the Brownstone & decided to say goodbye to Jose! I've picked a cute Jersey Shore community that actually is nice and not at all scummy. So in the process of switching utilities & emailing friends with my new address etc. I sent one to a friend/ex-whatever... He's just tough to forget about & mind you I am trying to be monogomous so him calling today and saying, "Oh we should get together Sunday" just doesn't help things. I have some weaknesses when it comes to this man. Let's forget that he makes Tommy Lee look like Tiny Tim (bad example?) & just go with his sheer maleness that puts me in a trance.... like climbing into bed with me at 7 am smelling all manly like oil & this smell that you would have to know to understand. Or after paintballing and being multi-colored and just coming by to say hello. Or that he's just so f-ing hot in every way. He lets me help fix the quad and we end up doing bad things in the garage. He's just THAT GUY. Take away the sexual manly stuff and he's still amazing. This may sound gay but he'll wear a faded pink Lacoste shirt and still look hot because he just don't care. He's secure in his manhood. Is that just a big dick thing? Flash back to high school when I was the senior chick and he was my freshman friend... I still wanted it & he was jail bait. He's cool. He listens. No judgements. Nothing. Until we pulled the long distance thing and he met someone and totally fucked me over. But before that- I was his one that got away and he was never afraid to say so. Whatever... where was I? Oh Sunday. He'll be all muddy and manly and wanting to see me knowing full damn well that there will be the usual issues of weakness and we both are seeing people. So the question is...to cheat or not to cheat? I can't have him full time & if I did, I would NEVER trust him. If he'll cheat with me, he'll cheat on me. BUT... I just want a little time with him. I miss my best friend but he's my weakness too.... I don't want to screw around on J.... but I do want to see T. Oh well...nobody reads this so I will have no feedback & will most likely screw up. Here's to hoping I make the right decision.... if I knew what that was!!!NotANiceGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08604665426732081912noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019207730664672567.post-65816366013289028182007-08-02T08:31:00.000-07:002007-08-03T06:37:41.129-07:00THE LIST<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-FsHaX5uwOfA0ooGQnkGEAJS2XA2bZEBBB1XNSqw4rPfI8E_H4aDuFt3side5NS1WTEC_ZG3j5y4x_b8laphB7bY3tCdWO8Cn7G9ar_uDgHNK0cYamMRik7WY-eFhJCpI_YFj77c7CBg/s1600-h/rob1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094463258898322082" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-FsHaX5uwOfA0ooGQnkGEAJS2XA2bZEBBB1XNSqw4rPfI8E_H4aDuFt3side5NS1WTEC_ZG3j5y4x_b8laphB7bY3tCdWO8Cn7G9ar_uDgHNK0cYamMRik7WY-eFhJCpI_YFj77c7CBg/s320/rob1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>OK...I'm completely satisfied with the man in my bed, BUT there's always temptation. We have the real guys that we know (not ex sex) the untapped. The guys you know from everyday situations, like this one. He took on the Yukon, the Mississippi (picture), and the walked the entire Appalachian Trail for charity. All sponsored items & money were given to Cancer research & then the Yukon project funds went to Katrina charities. So mix that in with the fact that he's totally at one with nature, was a Royal Marine Commando, has that sexy British accent which makes most men at least 10% hotter. He's a great guy and an all around bad ass. Then we come to another real life piece <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRSzq1ymty0gWNVfrndouSc9Vh49kYeK18W2BQXXYnuYkkPjX2kc8E6in5Ml-wmMidebzOwwbahZeifBz8ZkgwzgifBPKszOzJLUr4B67rmpSNW5cPyChba1ywuuAg4hVfm7w35dFY4QE/s1600-h/Jason.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094130128349942290" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRSzq1ymty0gWNVfrndouSc9Vh49kYeK18W2BQXXYnuYkkPjX2kc8E6in5Ml-wmMidebzOwwbahZeifBz8ZkgwzgifBPKszOzJLUr4B67rmpSNW5cPyChba1ywuuAg4hVfm7w35dFY4QE/s400/Jason.JPG" border="0" /></a>of temptation (have I mentioned that I'm a recovering cheat? 11.5 months monogamous ). He's just hanging off the CN Tower in Toronto at about 1,800 ft. as is it's no big deal. Then you add his sexy climber body and wonderful sarcastic humor. Oh and he always calls me darlin' but he may do that with all the ladies since he's from Texas. He's been in the Northeast long enough to have dropped any heavy accent so it's 100% pure charm.<br /><br /><br /></div><div><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><p>Then there's the celebrity list as discussed on <em>Friends</em>. I could never laminate that list.... this week it's these 5 guys but next week it could be different. Does this make me a commitment phobe? So here goes for now & if anyone reads this, please feel free to share your 5:</p><br /><p>I'm pretty solid on #'s 1-4 but it's so difficult to put someone into that final space. (Could be why I'm still single or at least not married)<br /></p><br /><p>So let's kick this off....Today's list<br /></p><br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ-l_nixUKKb9IR9iUtcU-kKYc_yC_afQw5KXt3y9aMpNJtnUE1YkALPBC1UB93xopFDXKCEmL5-L3ji8BxK6-mt_U4KxgGNHJy2H1p2wYLK7ysnAbwTDDEpVLEIwtnEot0cGzB_1flaM/s1600-h/josh_hartnettap.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094142313172161074" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ-l_nixUKKb9IR9iUtcU-kKYc_yC_afQw5KXt3y9aMpNJtnUE1YkALPBC1UB93xopFDXKCEmL5-L3ji8BxK6-mt_U4KxgGNHJy2H1p2wYLK7ysnAbwTDDEpVLEIwtnEot0cGzB_1flaM/s200/josh_hartnettap.jpg" border="0" /></a>#1 . Josh Hartnett. He looks pretty earnest, and he reminds me of my ex who is adorable and hung like an elephant. </p><br /><p>#2. Jason Statham. He's British. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj55ngQdEYNs0uG_9OygK5FqCPwBS7tIIqLhQtWR3Bhp9faQxaJwz3wwT9dTBXIyaHUU2u7iBf-Ufj-x9uJizOtBJyPDxEmdxsONvvGqJJv0MZLqZXze0-TUWRLETGaJsfDCI8bGgvKCs8/s1600-h/jason_statham_01.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094143099151176258" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj55ngQdEYNs0uG_9OygK5FqCPwBS7tIIqLhQtWR3Bhp9faQxaJwz3wwT9dTBXIyaHUU2u7iBf-Ufj-x9uJizOtBJyPDxEmdxsONvvGqJJv0MZLqZXze0-TUWRLETGaJsfDCI8bGgvKCs8/s200/jason_statham_01.jpg" border="0" /></a>He's Handsome Rob. He was basically dipped in oil in <em>The Transporter</em> and that was all I needed.... </p><br /><div>#3. Ryan Reynolds. <em>Blade Trinity</em>. The humor<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFN-phMyoXOPhyphenhyphen9bQ8Bca-Aadto6dA0_73g7TWsFPS6gX0FM7mZyKhspNCQ8SB3lXb6MlurLfDct589itKzNKYG8gBNpaAbezCfFuWhCTRA3qkPrzB4oN4TrhE0kiDXYWKrdsi_0hP6Qs/s1600-h/Ryan-Reynolds.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094144091288621650" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFN-phMyoXOPhyphenhyphen9bQ8Bca-Aadto6dA0_73g7TWsFPS6gX0FM7mZyKhspNCQ8SB3lXb6MlurLfDct589itKzNKYG8gBNpaAbezCfFuWhCTRA3qkPrzB4oN4TrhE0kiDXYWKrdsi_0hP6Qs/s200/Ryan-Reynolds.jpg" border="0" /></a> the chains & that cute little tattoo way down into his very low abdomen.<br /></div><br /><br /><div>#4. Julian Mcmahon He plays Dr. Troy in <em>Nip/Tuck</em> & does so with such pure evil that I love it! </div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiajU7JKoTw-a9_bI9_nmafExGEVcmcmk3fqgyU6fNy0-T2FZAD208NQPI17E0EPQ7R_jWxJi8QWDJmHO9SlQys7cAG0DnWoydMZCnkUs8-jXP9jdX9B1c92MXUf5ZatByu3WtY6SE_In0/s1600-h/julian6~0.jpg"></a>#5. This slot can't be filled.... I'm digging Channing Tatum these days. He's a bad actor but so damn sexy. Brad Pitt (pre Angelina) will always have a place in my heart after that Vanity Fair spread. I'm a bit "Team Aniston" but hey, you can't help who you love. If you try to fight it- well it is just a recipe for disaster. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ3Fs0f0cQELtU-dr7tHt-TlK6UWTBkQJdr3PxpOqgu85lB9j3wdBp-isRgG6yn90bEX_EE8as6DTbQ49q536nu_8jCO58rpAVO7HbEXTxZsaSujoHFzNEdtSalsp3i5_XwR5gorUD8DY/s1600-h/Pitt-hiQuality.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094463628265509570" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ3Fs0f0cQELtU-dr7tHt-TlK6UWTBkQJdr3PxpOqgu85lB9j3wdBp-isRgG6yn90bEX_EE8as6DTbQ49q536nu_8jCO58rpAVO7HbEXTxZsaSujoHFzNEdtSalsp3i5_XwR5gorUD8DY/s320/Pitt-hiQuality.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPnzhyGLf8jVigYRcHgKusQ8oUCPs3ADcpayxyWNs0Biyhwwt4TQZOmF_Y3ARofqyqV0HYju5swHRfZ4O5eh-WBePjWFHvhQ-JNFCAQuRM8_eKf6QlVtMZ1vIkCLSC-EOQFi2dFCPbcog/s1600-h/channing_tatum.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094462623243162242" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPnzhyGLf8jVigYRcHgKusQ8oUCPs3ADcpayxyWNs0Biyhwwt4TQZOmF_Y3ARofqyqV0HYju5swHRfZ4O5eh-WBePjWFHvhQ-JNFCAQuRM8_eKf6QlVtMZ1vIkCLSC-EOQFi2dFCPbcog/s200/channing_tatum.jpg" border="0" /></a>Shall we get to the honorable mentions? Jack Johnson (Cute surfer boy singer, Olivier Martinez (Hello have you seen Unfaithful?), John Krasinski (love <em>The Office)</em>, Patrick Dempsey (love those eyes), Will Kirby (reality TV Evil Dr. Will), Jason Lee (Pre-<em>Earl</em>), Wentworth Miller (sitting in his Converse all stars in the Mariah Carey video with those blue eyes...yeah that works. Is he really gay?), Ed Burns (esp. in <em>She's the One</em>), Harrison Ford (younger but not too young), Sean Connery (again, slightly older but not on his death bed) <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094466931095360210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLcsxs6G0ce4FG072L7hqLexAZ23KrX43HO7owKIrEojdrbNTWjAlWyfIlTLiriz61dgB4j3Zd-REEQBhBqxaEQTu1_HQxLbmgfNC1zqnnSRv-xplfLQ2_q77GRr6MjOlfyTJ1pwK8q_8/s400/Brad%2520Pitt%2520July%25201999%2520W.jpg" border="0" /><br />The End (Brad's that is).....<br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p></p></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>NotANiceGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08604665426732081912noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019207730664672567.post-46079460939536711192007-08-01T13:49:00.000-07:002007-08-01T14:32:18.093-07:00WEEKEND PHOTOGRAPHY<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxfl296d_ueuTGSPeXcLZ-nP815pYwsbnysacxbCQ6VeeoXB9tv1CbPymE-WPWosNrTmzqNo56DxWYA2kaTydlNozsBsMmrqRpthe9O-hY3NcPUpy6_mhC6gdofE-rkt8UkXlhxBvm1pk/s1600-h/bum.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093839281754591698" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxfl296d_ueuTGSPeXcLZ-nP815pYwsbnysacxbCQ6VeeoXB9tv1CbPymE-WPWosNrTmzqNo56DxWYA2kaTydlNozsBsMmrqRpthe9O-hY3NcPUpy6_mhC6gdofE-rkt8UkXlhxBvm1pk/s400/bum.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_VmhqgYpcZuU474GwLh4jep1r0_aQVG1SK2O4knakRvL8Uy3yOWi86Ryx_gSLgqzoU4p5wr1gL0V5Aij7JIaHh02bZwcoVZKdmlL1hpZcitzdtsA4GWiNxV4r7a5HrmDISnB1KQDE2s0/s1600-h/arm.jpg"></a><br /><br /><div>I love to photograpgh the many places on J's body that look so yummy. I've started with these two because both make me so happy. The curves on his fine ass are almost just a blur but I find it necessary to capture them and post them here for myself. I know I will end up putting all those years of art school to use finally because I've found a subject that I am passionate about. This photo of the top of his ass really does it no justice. The ones from my cell have too many details that give him away & are too explicit...... not that anyone looks at my crappy little blog but I think I shall start taking requests for images should anyone ever make one. There's that cute butt I know and love --> </div><br /><div>He always wants me to sketch him but I think I'm just going to continue to post random photos from naked Sundays instead. He's just too cute. </div><br /><div>This is the same guy that I only ORIGINALLY wanted to sneak around with, use for some sex, and move on when he got clingy yet here I am ALMOST 1 YEAR LATER with my own personal ode to J. YES LADIES & GENTS, I'm whipped! It is that good and it's not just the sex. I actually asked permission to post him before I did so because I didn't want him to feel violated. I will continue to keep it less than X rated and keep the unique marks out of my photos to protect his privacy.</div><br /><div>This next one is my favorite. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH2bAfSJLiHzlljrO3ODdKTbZKzP0Ee-1UrtYTcMg4gFhquc0WQwLcjCxF2u-GLF9e3tzARr6nTR7MFew6dixlrtuTXn_JpJzUxBXiSypevgH_n__TLJaAqSfgN4sUuA5PDvqBBfYN_18/s1600-h/arm.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093842348361241074" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH2bAfSJLiHzlljrO3ODdKTbZKzP0Ee-1UrtYTcMg4gFhquc0WQwLcjCxF2u-GLF9e3tzARr6nTR7MFew6dixlrtuTXn_JpJzUxBXiSypevgH_n__TLJaAqSfgN4sUuA5PDvqBBfYN_18/s400/arm.jpg" border="0" /></a> I'm sharing this because I love his arms as well..... they are delicious. I just love it! We have the cutest <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">kissy</span> pic but I'll spare you all of that one. Poor J.... Yes, I am "Mrs. Robinson" and I've seduced you. We're moving in together so it should get even more fun!</div><div> </div><div>Thanks for letting me be me & letting me love the way you look. BTW... Even though J has awareness of this blog & the photos on it, he's not allowed to visit. Sorry- we'll work something out on won't we? Yeah baby, I've been bad.... <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">what'cha</span> gonna do about it??? Surprise me! But please don't give me a surprise like you did that one time when I was in an <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Ambien</span> haze....OK? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">That</span> wasn't so much fun to wake up to....Let's keep it tight. Thanks!</div><br /><div></div></div>NotANiceGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08604665426732081912noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3019207730664672567.post-53520671014879807172007-07-17T13:47:00.000-07:002007-07-17T13:56:35.485-07:00NO WAY JOSE!After my letter to Jose... I've noticed something else that disturbs me about His Homlessness...<br /><br />Among the list of things he hates i.e. working, showering, shitting on a toilet, having an actual house that is not made of cardboard etc. he hates black people. He being a pretty useless fixture of my neighborhood is actually discriminating when it comes to getting a free meal, or drink, or whatever. I find this offensive. At first I didn't believe my not so great Spanish skills and asked my neighbor who is fluent in both Spanish and sucking dick....getting back to the point.<br /><br />He provided me with a little social experiment if you will. He told me to watch when the neighborhood florist's boyfriend exited the store. Sure enough Jose starts cursing en Espanol and uttering the word "negro" which I took only to mean the color not the segregated label.<br /><br />I don't know why I care but I do. I don't like Jose. He scares me. He should be on meds. He should be doing a bunch of things other than shouting racial slurs at people and standing next to the fax machine someone threw out as if it's his new office.<br /><br />Hell I sit here at work, doing nothing besides reading the internet and blogging but at least I only discriminate against those lazier than me....like Jose...and my mom but that's different.<br /><br />Ahhh fuck it.NotANiceGirlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08604665426732081912noreply@blogger.com1