Tag Archives: Las Vegas

Baby, I Don’t Think We’re in Sturgis Anymore


Some people long for adventure. I happen to be one of those people.

I daydream often of spitting off of the Empire State Building, of sacrificing a human being to the Sun god on the top of an Aztec ruin, of standing on the rail of a doomed ship holding my arms up and screaming, “I’m the King of the World!” just before it hits an iceberg and my fat-ass girlfriend refuses to share her floating driftwood and I freeze to death before sinking to the bottom of the ocean; my remains fodder for Jaws, the Great and Powerful.

Perhaps I am descended from Gypsies, though I’ve not heard of any statuesque blonde Scandanavian gypsy folk, or perhaps my apartment is so crappy that I simply have the urge to go anywhere that isn’t home. Whatever the case, I feel that I do not have to justify or explain my desire to lay eye on the biggest motorcycle rally in the country.
My Rockstar finds this desire to be completely insane and ultimately the  source of my imminent demise. While I would find it interesting and quite exciting to grab a beer with burly men (and women) sporting leather chaps and Harley bandanas, my Rockstar is convinced if we were to venture and stay at the designated campgrounds that millions of people stay in every year during Bike Week,  we would surely be designated as bait for any motorcycle gang initiation rites. Luckily, Kid Rock is playing at said campground, so after three years, I was able to convince R that a good time could be had by all, no gang rapes or ass branding included.

After spending last Sunday planning our choice of poison, which included going to see Kid Rock, the Black Crowes, Jackyl, Jasmine Cain, and Vince Neil, my Rockstar received a phone call from his brother, and informed him of our plan. Little did I know, his brother was intent on ruining our perfect childless-friendly getaway. Rockstar hung up the phone and said the words I never knew I would dread to hear- “He say nobody should go into those campgrounds after dark.”

My heart dropped. Was I thinking of what a gang of horny biker dudes might do to someone with buzooms of my size or someone with such an irrestistable ass as my Rockstar? No. I was thinking that I might never know, and that my Rockstar needed to quit being a pussy and suck it up. What fun is life if you never have to worry about getting your ass kicked by a 250 lb. woman who looks like a man?

Anyhoo, I threw in the towel. I realized that my Rockstar may just not be woman enough to want to run for Miss Broken Spoke 2013, and making him surround himself with the Sons of anarchy before he’s ready would just be an incredible waste of my money. So we’re going to Vegas for my birthday in October instead, where the women are cost exhorbitant amounts of money,  and the men are showgirls.

6 Comments

Filed under Beauty, Entertainment, Humor, Life, Love, Sex, Uncategorized

A Life Not Lived


So you probably all know by now that I was married once upon a time a couple years ago. Throughout the duration of my marriage, I devised a plan of what I would do if I was not married. (that may give you a clue as to how unhappy I was). Anyhoo, my plan actually became known as my Divorce Plan. (in the off chance that I was to get divorced.) Little did I know a guy known as Rockstar was going to come along and derail my little plan. Here is the extent of the life I would have perhaps had if my Divorce Plan had been executed as expected:

As soon as my divorce papers were final, I planned on selling every item I owned (I hadn’t decided about the books yet) taking the money I accrued and making my way to Las Vegas. I thought, “Hey. I’ve been a waitress before. I bet tips would be great in Vegas.” I planned on getting a job as a cocktail waitress at the Venetian, because they had the most fabulous uniforms. (Poofy skirts and heels) If I was unlucky enough to not land a job at this grand hotel/casino, the Flamingo was my backup. (Because it’s pink.)

In my mind, I always prepare for the worst. And so, I had resigned myself to working at the Bunny Ranch as a hooker (I KNOW I would make good money there…) when I couldn’t land a job at the casinos of my choice. After making millions, (or at least hundreds of thousands) off of my stellar pussy techniques, I was going to move to New York and become a writer, making even more money off of my memoir entitled simply Whore. It would then have been turned into a movie or a mini-series (Showtime, not HBO) in which I would have played myself, (because no one could play me as good as I) and I would have won an Emmy, or an Oscar for my performance. (Because my lifetime of pathological lying has made my acting quite superb)

I would then land a recurring role on Law and Order SVU as Stabler’s new partner.(because Mariska decided to have another baby and stay home) My character would be able to banter wittily with Richard Belzar’s Munch character, and her utter little-girl-lost personality would compel Stabler to divorce his wife and marry my character because of his macho I-must-save-you personality.

After filming SVU every day, I would give Chris Meloni a booby squish goodbye, and then go sit by the Alice in Wonderland statue in Central Park. I would watch all the interesting people walking by, and make up stories about them in my head, until one day a very handsome man, (or a very beautiful woman) came and sat next to me, and asked what I was doing.

We would immediately feel a spark, and never leave each other’s side. The royalties from my books and acting career would be enough that I would then buy a castle in Ireland, (complete with a library and one of those rolly-ladder thingys on which I would swing about and burst into song) where my beloved (him or her) and I would live happily ever after, procreating (or adopting) 5 boys,  and accruing 3 mastiffs and a Ford Mustang. And a goat.

(Chris Meloni would be devestated when I quit the show.)

I guess all that seems a little bit too dramatic. I guess I’ll stay here and have sex with my Rockstar…

 

22 Comments

Filed under Books, Children, Entertainment, Humor, Life, Love, Uncategorized