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Just slow my gosh darn roll! It’s a saying.  My kids use it, I think. They also called me, “savage” the other day. Not so sure that’s a good thing. But whatever. And how about “lit”, is that a positive adjective? Let me use it in a sentence for ya, “Mom, my friends at school think you’re totally LIT.” Hmm. Again, I question its exact connotation….but hey, I aim to please! But I got this “slowing your roll” phrase down! It means to ease your shit up, slow your ass down…stop moving into everything so dang fast. And for the love of all things holy STOP FALLING IN LOVE SO QUICKLY! Phew.

Ya, just gotta slow my damn roll, Cowgirl.

But really, how do are you supposed to move slowly when the guy is doing everything in his power to make you WANT HIM so damn bad? 

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You

must

be

out of

your

fucking mind…

Oh, wait, that’s me. I’m the one that thought I was “in a relationship” when I wasn’t. Right. Moi. Crazy, party of one. But hey, at least I can admit I’m nuts! I know I have a screw loose. I can laugh at myself, and joke about my spaz-like qualities. Can you? I think, the girls that know they’re coo-coo are actually in fact, the non-crazies. It’s the ones that get all fucking defensive when you call them out…those are the REAL nut jobs. Those chicks? Bunny-boilers. Run like the wind from those tarts. Men, try using this tactic as a litmus test for psychoses, ok? When you take a women out on a first date, simply ask her if she’s off her rocker. Ya…go ahead! Tell her Hurvitz told you to do it! I’m sure you won’t offend her, she’s surely heard worse. And depending on her immediate response, you’ll smell the insanity!

I was having this exact discussion with a guy I found on Tinder! He does it. He tests for crazy. He is the one that actually told me about it, and I should probably give him props. But fuck him, we ended up getting in a little tiff. He called me crazy. So no royalties; I am stealing his stupid fucking “Crazy Test”. Obviously, I just did. Done. And I just named it, and wrote about it…and the real point of all this jibber-jabber is that I am back on Tinder. Follow me? Good. After the bullshit I’ve been through over the past few weeks, I have decided that the best way to get over someone, is to get under someone else. Do not judge. I clearly could care less what you think, or I wouldn’t be sharing my plan of attack. Plan of attack. Ha. I sound like a psycho.

But have all y’all seen Tinder lately?

Married men looking for “discreet women”. Polygamists searching for “wives” to add to their “happy homes”. Guys looking for “friends with benefits”. Men with rulers showing the length of their members. Yup, you heard me. Just this morning I came across a profile with a picture of a ruler, that said “8 inches”. (She said came across) Ha. Pun totally not intended, but it just fit so nicely didn’t it? And these guys think WE are the crazy ones? That WE are the nuttier of the genders? Holy Fuckballs, guys. Give it up. You must be drinking the crazy juice, because there is nothing more insane than the shit going down on Tinder! It’s a dating site…I am simply trying to find a nice boy to have lunch with. Share a little conversation, have a cup of coffee. My finger is throbbing from swiping left. Left, left…left. Loser, loser…and LOSER.

Ok, that was harsh.

I shouldn’t be so Judgy Smurf. Perhaps there are women out there that are looking to fuck married men. Or that are interested in being with a guy that has 3 other wives. Who am I to judge? Maybe, there is a woman, sitting home right now…swiping RIGHT on that guy that posted his pepe with the yardstick. Yes. She didn’t see his face, or his body. She didn’t care. No! She was just swiping right for his 8 inch cock. HA! I am laughing so hard? I swear, I can’t stop. I’m seriously imagining some asshole-chick matching up with the Penis Poster! Can’t stand it! Oy. My poor father. I have like a bazillion readers that send me messages about him. My Dad, not the Penis Poster. They want to know if he reads the blog. And the truth is, he can’t. He just can’t. How can he? He is the most supportive father in the Universe. He loves me with all his soul, but for Goddesake…I don’t think his poor heart could survive The Truth Hurvitz.

But, fingers crossed please…the pilot is done, and being shopped this summer! Whoop whoop!! I didn’t tell anyone. I am kinda keeping it a secret…just in case it all goes to shit. Which it won’t. It just can’t. I have to think positive. I have the BEST people in LA working for me. Pulling for me, and they have my back. I mean, its come this far. Omg. I’m definitely keeping it on the DL, so if it doesn’t happen I won’t feel like a total ass. But if the pilot does get picked up….my DAD WILL WATCH MY SHOW! Yep. He will. And maybe, just maybe he will be my “plus one”. Ya know, if I’m ever like famous or some shit like that. He did put up with me writing this vulgarity for the past two years. Don’t you think HE should get my “plus one”?

Hmmm. Let’s cross that bridge if we come to it. (she said come). What a dirty-girl I am today. I must have sex on my brain. Or maybe I swiped right on a new guy, and I have a hot date…after all, nothing says”over it” like a NEW man. What?! Gotta keep on fucking! Shit. I meant trucking! I totally meant trucking, yeesh. Keep on trucking! ;)

xo j

 

 

 

 

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The Selfie.

Posed.

Perfect.

Photo-shopped.

Pure enjoyment.

And if I get one more stupid-ass shot from a guy I don’t give a crap about, I just might lose my guts. Really! Last night, I was minding my own beeswax when I got a ping. So, I picked up my phone, and there was a text from a number I didn’t recognize. Ok, so I guess it’s my bad that I give my digits out to JDaters and Tinder-peeps across the US of A? But I do. And I am currently back on the sites, ok? Don’t judge me. I’m bored, and the last dude that was “soooo fabulous” just ended up being well, a bust. Kinda a bummer. He was a good guy, and a great catch. Just not for me. It happens. You date, you hook up…you hope it’s going to work out, and it doesn’t.

It’s my fucking life story.

And somewhere between drinks, and bleeding out in the hotel room, you decide it’s just not a “good fit”. Oh ya, we were hooking up…and I started bleeding like a stuck pig. Poor guy, he was literally covered in my blood from head to toe. Talk about bad luck. I had my IUD removed a couple days prior to our date, and it looked like a fucking crime scene. He was like, “Wow you’re really turned on!” And I was like, ummm no…that would be my uterus exploding. Great. Does this room happen to have a tourniquet? Can you call down for a cauterizer! Close me up, STAT. I swear, he asked me if I needed blood transfusion, or a ride to the ER. I wasn’t even embarrassed. I mean, at my age…who really gives a fuck? So what if I bled out all over a guy I barely even knew? I was just happy to be getting a free dinner, and a night in hotel. I love those little mints on the pillow. We snuck out of there so quickly the next morning, to avoid getting arrested. Housekeeping most definitely thought there was a murder in our room. I wanted to put down a body outline in yellow tape.

Great guy. We went out a few more times, but it’s clearly over. Maybe my Bloody, Bloody Vagina scared him away? Who cares. I can’t worry about it, and you know what they say…the best way to get over someone, is to get under somebody else! So, I’m back on the dating scene. Wasn’t that my point here? Yes. The ping! Last night, I got one. A text came in from this guy. It was a SELFIE. But not just any selfie, a picture of him sleeping. And not just sleeping, but sleeping half naked. And not just sleeping half naked, but sleeping half naked with his eyes closed. Ok, you get it. But, shit. He was holding a fucking TEDDY BEAR. That’s right, he was cradling a teddy bear to his bosom. Like a suckling baby, on his momma’s titty. Lord.

Now, listen to me. I don’t give a rat’s patootie if this loony bird was asleep with his fucking dog, or his kid… or his cat, ok? But he was asleep holding a large, stuffed BEAR to his breast! And his eyes were closed. Can you please tell me how he took a SELFIE with his eyes fucking closed? I was dying. I just stared at the picture. It’s just not right on so many levels. A guy, and his bear. I have nothing left to say. Don’t send me letters, telling me I’m heartless, or mean. Or call PETA telling them I don’t love animals. I hate cats, but I do love stuffed bears.

Why can’t I just find a normal guy?

Listen, I love taking selfies. I am the Selfie Queen. But I am real. I am wearing tons of lip gloss, and my head is usually cocked to one side. And my mouth is always wide open. And the caption probably says, “HOLLA!” I might send you one of me looking all silly or trying to be all stupid-sexy…but I can promise you this; I will not be half naked holding a stuffed bear. Well, I might be half naked…but never, ever will I be clutching a Muppet. ;)

 

xo j

 

 

 

 

Unknown

I want it now.

Give it to me.

But I said, I need it.

Click, click…and its mine.

I don’t like the word NO!

I swear its like that little bitch Veruca Salt, just took over the Universe…made us all stomp our feet, and whine like brats! It’s the world of Immediate Gratification. We just hop on our phones, and order shoes while we are in carpool. Or find a date by swiping left or right. Shit. It’s too damn easy! Our kids are glued to their devices, and addicted to the instant responses they are getting…and we are letting it happen. It makes it easier for us to do what we need to get done. Am I right? It’s all flipping nuts! No more eye contact, no more face-to-face interaction…no more flirting, or hair flipping. Fuck! I am losing my guts here! It’s all so quick. So fast…so damn simple.

What happened to THE TEASE? 

My best friend, Tammy, sent me this killer article last night, about just that. The thrill of the chase. The hunt for the kill.  The Art of the Tease. Ya know? Like what happened to actually making a man want you? Jeez. These days, a guy just texts a woman up…says a few insincere things, and BAM! He asks for a sexy pic. Are you fucking kidding me? But it happens. Not all of the time, but more than we want to admit. And I am telling you, its bullshit. Why buy the cow, when you can get the milk for free? Oh, I am the cow in this scenario. And no woman likes to be the cow giving away her milk. And definitely not for free! C’mon guys…work a little harder, will ya? There is something to be said for a little build up! That “verbal foreplay” you have before you hop into bed. Make us work for it….Tease me! Don’t you just love it?

I love it. I love a guy that ends a date, before I do. Really? He doesn’t want to stay all night? It keeps me wondering. He kisses me goodbye, but doesn’t ask me to come back to his house. Or come over to mine. Hot. He leaves me hanging. Wanting more. Damn. It’s all about the tease. And he doesn’t text all day, and all night. And when I text him, there is not an immediate response. OMG. Is this for real? Is he playing games? Does he not want me? I am so used to the instant reply, that I am freaking out. But it’s just the thrill of the chase. And it’s working. Damnit, this boy has me hooked.

And you have to start it before you get into the bedroom. Before you are naked. Way before. Sure, it’s the best to get him all worked up begging for it in bed! But how about when you are on your date? Give him that little bit of shoulder instead of the cleavage. Show him legs or tits, but not both. Eat that lobster with your fingers, and lick off the butter. Remember Flashdance? Sexy is well…SEXY! Put down your phone, and look at him. IN THE EYES. It’s all about body language, and touching. You can’t be present, if you are texting..or checking the weather. And if he is on his phone, do a sexy flip of your hair, and gently take it out of his hands. Give a lil wink, and set it on the table. It’s all about making him know you want to be there.

Anyway you slice it, we all love the work up. The foreplay before the foreplay. The flirting, and wondering how fast we can get out of the restaurant and into the car…ha. It’s really not about immediate gratification, all y’all. It’s about taking your time, and knowing that good things come to those who wait. Easier said than done, right? Especially when you’ve been texting, and sexting…and acting like teenagers for weeks! But I do think that teasing actually leads to a much better sexual experience in the long run. And this article I read last night, agrees! I’m going to try it…I am! And guys, you know you like a girl that makes you wait. Don’t lie!

A new way of doing things. I’m going to go back to the basics. Like when my parents used to date. When there were no iPhones, and you actually had to talk to one another in person. You could express yourself clearly, with no miscommunication. No “lost in translation”. No LOL. I just think I’m so much better face-to-face. And I love to flirt, and tease. And it just doesn’t come across so well with Emojis. Although, they do make some good ones lately! My favorite is the pile of poop. I use it a ton when I think guys are full of shit. Just a big poop pile. And boy do I wish I was teasing. PLOP! ;)

xo j