Monthly Archives: February 2012

Death By Hills: A Brief Recap and a Big Thank You

Posted on February 27, 2012 | Leave a comment

Well, it was that time of year again.

That time of year to kick off the road racing season with the Froze Toes RR.

That time of year also marks the dawn of the Team Seagal Death By Hills (DBH) Ride.  A day when those who would rather not pin numbers to their person and race the flats and wind in Columbia, MO choose to meet across from a coffee-house and embark on an adventure of hills and “Dodge the SUVs”.

The ride is organized by a bunch of Jerks who apparently just like to suffer for the sake of suffering.

[Wipes tear of pride for knowing such people]

This was my third DBH ride (though the first was done with a group of ladies riding the course backwards to meet the Jerks because a couple of us had to coordinate babysitting, so maybe we don’t count that one).

I have to admit, I was a little nervous yesterday morning as I geared up and rolled out of the house to ride over to Wolf Public House.

I have not been riding my bike for the past couple weeks, save a spin class here or a short ride there.

I had started doing yoga again last week, but was not sure how well that and the one spin class on Saturday was going to do me on the DBH ride.

Top that with making poor nutritional choices in the morning with only a cup of chai as I hurried to get out the door, I was sure I was going be toast.

I was wise enough to grab some Shot Bloks and a “pocket PBJ” just in case I felt a super-bonk come on.

I knew I would only be out there for part of the ride since I had to get home to The Sass, but still, I wanted to enjoy a few hours in the sun and saddle and getting to see some people I had not seen since early Fall, if not Summer.

I rolled out and met the group and was really excited to see all the Jerks who showed up.

It seemed (at least to me) to be a lot more than last year’s ride, but then again, I try not to count or do much thinking on weekends so who knows?

*shrugs*

We rolled out and it felt SOOOOO weird to be on the skinny tires in a group, so I made sure I hung way back…at least until after we passed the dead thing in the road that had been there for days.

(Even though you call those things out to folks, you just sort of know someone(s) is/are going to nail it and that can bring on the wrecky, so best to hang back is what I always say when chatting with myself in my head as I sometimes do whenever I start a group ride.)

The first climb, one I have done a zillion times, was a doozy as I was reminded that I have not ridden in a while other than that spin bike and the paths in Ft. Wayne, IN.

OOOF!

It was super cute how the wind did not go away on the climb as I had hoped.

Frankly, I have come to love climbing because I hate wind so much and that is how I typically avoid it.  Yesterday was a nice cocktail of both, so once we made the first turn, I sort of had to shut my mind down to the wind…or cry.

I chose not to cry.  (Go ME!)

Excellent!

By the time we dropped down into Woods Rd, I was relaxed and locked out of my own head, which is a good thing because for a hot minute it was touch and go.

I got to ride with Wendy and catch up a bit and that made the riding so much better/easier.

You know what else made the ride easier?

Knowing that Wendy’s husband, Jim was driving SAG in the Team Trail Monster mobile.

Somehow just knowing that Jim was there with bike racks ready in case anything happened to anyone took about a ton of stress off the situation.

Exactly at the moment I realized Jim would be there the whole ride, the whole thing got easier.

My heart rates were lower on every climb (and even lower on the climbs that I skipped!) knowing that if I had a bonk that could not be saved with a sammy or sugar, I could beg a brief ride/recovery from Jim until the route got closer to my house.

Luckily, that did not happen and I was able to ride and chit-chat.

I would like to take this time to thank Jim for being there for my friend, Brad who got a breaky on his bike, a super badass Specialized TT bike used in Ironman events.

I feel confident that Brad’s pretty TT bike simply had a meltdown after being made to climb repeatedly.  Poor little TT bike started to cry after The Seven Bitches and wasn’t having it and went all “no worky” and threw a fit tangling its chain up in its brakes as we approached the base of Allenton.

DBH Ride = Death to TT bike.  So sad.

[Ducks pouts and objects thrown at head by Sad Brad as he reads this.]

Also, Jim’s face as he looked at the carnage of chain and brakes was pretty priceless, so thank you for that as well.

As the eleven o’clock hour arrived, I knew it was time to modify the route to loop back to the pad and I was sort of bummed.

When I got home to The Sass, she was all in for me making a cheese, fruit, and meat tray.

We tied the dogs out in the front yard and I sat out there for a while watching Jerks roll back in from the ride while Sass worked on her art.

I had ridden significantly fewer miles than last year but had twice as much fun…and for that, I am grateful.

Thanks, Jerks!

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Posted in bicycles, bike rides, cycling, humor, Life

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I Don’t Want To…

Posted on February 24, 2012 | 2 Comments

I don’t want to.

That seems to be a very difficult thing for some people to say/admit, whether it be to themselves or others.

I personally do not struggle with this, but then I am left with a different scenario…

When I say that I do not want to do something, there are people who will attempt to read between the lines and find the underlying meaning of such a pseudo-grand statement.

Frequently I will be asked my favorite question…

“What’s wrong?”

What’s wrong?

Now there is something wrong with me because I don’t want to do “XYZ” that someone else wants me to do but that I do not?

Why can I just not want to do something and it be that simple?

It is that simple for me.

I know this because I have trusted some people who have coerced me into doing things I knew I did not want to do and you know what?

(This will come as a shock…)

I didn’t like it.

DOY!

I am not afraid to have fun or afraid to try new things, but I know myself rather well and don’t feel I need to prove anything to anyone by doing things that I know I will not like.

“You never know until you try it,” is a load of shit.

Guess what?

I KNOW I will not enjoy jumping put of a plane or eating cockroaches.

I do not need to dip a roach in some soy sauce and “try it” to know that this will not end well for anyone…including the person who attempts to pressure me.

I have figured out that in many ways, I am like Sass’ dog, Sasha.

She hears me.  She knows what I am saying.

Hell, she is looking at me right now and I can only assume she knows I am typing about her.

Sasha knows what our commands are, but she will not follow one until she is good and ready.

I don’t work more with her on this because I can relate and want her to be her own persss….errrr…canine.

(Project much?)

All this said, because I am so direct with what I do not want, I am always amused when someone poke fun at my alleged “excuse making”.

Ehhh?

When I don’t want to do something, I say it.  When I cannot do something due to schedule or other conflict, I say that.

If I have a valid reason for something, it’s a valid reason.  If I say I do not want to, that is the reason.  It’s done.  Trying to make it something else is not my issue and I am going to start shrugging more.

If I say that I don’t want to swim or ride my bike, I fail to see the excuse.

I don’t want to.

Period.

However, I am wired so that the more you try to pressure me into it, the less likely I am to do it because you are sucking the joy that I would get from the activity right out of it for me and even if I did it, I wouldn’t do it with you because you are a dirty little fun-sucker.

Some people have this issue with sex as well.  Good luck with that.

You keep talking about it and the other person is never going to give it.  Let it lie and it will happen.  Maybe.  If they want to.

This applies to so much.  So, so, SOOOOO much.

I don’t know who you are or if you ever feel the need to make excuses, but I am here to say, just tell people that you don’t want to.

They cannot argue with that.  Really.

They will think they can argue while also stating that they don’t want to argue, but they do not have a valid argument.

Don’t act like you don’t have these people in your life because everyone does.  If you don’t, then chances are YOU are that person.  My bad.

[hands tissues to shocked reader]

No one can tell you that you want to do something and if they try, you are then afforded the opportunity to reward said person with a fantastic “have you lost your effing mind?” look that everyone loves to receive.

Today is “Tri Friday” and I am not swimming.

Why?

  1. Because I rolled out of bed and proceeded to slice the hell out of my finger during the bagel-slicing process…because I am just that talented with bagels and knives; and…
  2. I don’t want to.

For the record, I also do not want to:

  • Ride my road bike (right now; not never)
  • date
  • get an enema
  • do Kickbox Jam EVER again
  • eat gluten-free pizza
  • organize my closet

There you go.  I challenge you to prove me wrong.

*smirk*

Go start your list…of things you want to do.  It’s a whole lot more fun.

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Posted in humor, Life

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A Lent-like Non-Sacrifice

Posted on February 22, 2012 | Leave a comment

Today is the first day of Lent.

(YAY!  Lent!)

File that under “shit no one says”.

When I was a Catholic, I used to effing LOVE Lent.

I really cannot explain why except to say that I am a masochist who not only takes pleasure in my own “suffering” but even in the self-perception of such.

I always say that I am not competitive, but man, every Lent I became a first class asshole.  (I think that is sort of contradicting the point of Lent, but I was young and didn’t know much about myself, but I knew I could mind fuck my peers like it was my job.)

Yes, as an adult I realize that that was wrong and likely why I got my ass beat so many times by said peers between the ages of 11 through 15.  Derrrr.

1986 was my most successful Lent…because it lasted until 1999 and I still think that was pretty awesome.  I gave up red meat and pork year-around.  (I have since dabbled in both, but rarely as my body no longer understands how to process either so I have to stay close to home and the porcelain.)

The obvious problem with the extended Lent was that I stopped being a Catholic in 1987 but sort of just kept up the Lent.  I have no idea why.

*shrugs*

It made meals during the 86-87 school year easy because my mom never cooked dinner after August 14, 1982.

(Go Mom!)

When I moved to St. Louis, I became aware of the whole Mardi Gras scene and Lent became a big thing again.

Every year, except this one, I said that I will give up F-bombs…but I really love them a lot and they comfort me.

F-bombs are like the word “dude” or black heels.  They go with many situations, good and bad.  I am not likely to give up F-bombs,  ”dude”, or black heels ever in my life, so you should know this now.

That said, just as with black heels, I know when and where F-bombs are appropriate.  You have never witnessed me wearing heels at the pool or on my bike, so I think I have a handle on it.  I can be your librarian or your truck driver at will.  I am a very talented lady.  Trust.

This year, The Sass and I decided to do this Lent thing together.  I explained Lent to her and she gave me that look with the raised eyebrow which she clearly inherited from her mom.

I told her that I want to give up candy and adult drinks and she seemed impressed.

(To be clear, she was impressed about the candy.  Come on!)

My candy addiction is sort of off the charts.

I do not like chocolate so much and never milk chocolate  (Thanks, Mom!), but I love sugary snacks like red Swedish Fish and Lemonheads.  Those two things alone give me the happies.

Imagine my excitement (and subsequent fear) when Pinnacle Vodka came out with red gummy vodka!!!

Are you effing KIDDING me?!?

Clearly there is a Satan and THAT asshole works at Pinnacle.

They have also killed me with their “cake” and “marshmallow” flavored vodkas.

All it took was for me to open the bottle of the red gummy flavor and I knew I would never buy another bottle.

(I drank that bottle…of course…because…HELLO!)

I have tried the cake and marshmallow flavors in testing the theory that Satan is indeed French and does work for Pinnacle.  He is and he does.

Now, lest I sound all weirdly bible-thumping and blame Satan for vodka, you must know that I jest.

People are to blame for their own likes, dislikes, and curiosities. I have always been one who could take or leave vodka and I am sort of happy that there is such an overwhelming saturation of the market because (in proving my theory that there is a god/goddess who watches over me), I am an individual who does not do well with too many options.

If given too many options, I typically walk straight in the opposite direction because I am a giant “ostrich”.

…plus, I read The Paradox of Choice and I just get it/me.

My god/goddess gave me Pinnacle so that I would walk away.  I did.  Now I feel like I am cheating at Lent because it doesn’t feel like a very big deal…which is why I added the candy component.

Candy is a VERY big deal!

OMIGOSHILOVEITSOMUCH!

I am not even halfway through a candy-less day and I am tweaking like Cupcake Brown back in the day.

This is not pretty.

I told Sass I would drink juice to satisfy my craving, but I don’t have any at the moment and that sort of sucks big hairy ones.

I am pretty sure Sass is going to kick my ass this Lent.

She calculated her decision wisely and put her plan in place.  I did not do the same.

I am so screwed.

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The Pure Pimping of George – UPDATED

Posted on February 21, 2012 | Leave a comment

UPDATE:  I have dropped the price of George because I want to move him.  I have become oddly attached to my home and feel that having a home trumps having a road bike…at least for my family. 

George is a pretty futha mucka, but the market is narrowed as he is a WSD hottie.

(If you don’t know what that means, it means he is for the ladies, not the mans…unless you like to roll that way and that is fine too.  A bike is a bike, which is what women are told all the time when sold “unisex” bikes so there you go.)

He is pretty, yes?  Manly colors of black and white and no flowers, unicorns, or sparkles anywhere…so obviously Andy and Frank are passing on this amazing bike and are riding Treks.

(LOTS of sparkle there!)*

George is man enough to boast a 54cm WSD FACT IS frame and is one skinny bitch.

Here are his stats: 2010  Specialized  S-Works Amira

The only things I have changed from stock are the saddle and the crankset.

You have two options on the crankset if buying George…

You either buy him with the Quarq Cinco compact and SRAM 172.5 carbon cranks, or you buy him without it and get your own crankset because I sold the Specialized S-Works, 50/34 that came with him.

(You may also just buy the Quarq Cinco without the bike.  We can discuss this later.)

I have zero issues with George and love him…but I rarely ride him and I sure as hell don’t race him.

George has been in 4 races.  FOUR!

(Two crits in 2010 after the purchase and two in 2011 just to make sure I still hated crits.  I do.)

George has never been crashed or given a dirty look.

He rides the hilly county roads and avoids the city except the rare times when he  craves a little “strange” and chaos and heads east.

He is an amazingly comfortable bike even on long hilly rides and as much as I hate to admit that I enjoyed the Dura Ace experience because I am a SRAM girl, I did.  If I had not, I would have switched him out.  There.  I said it.  My name is Gory Dreadmond and I do not mind riding Dura Ace.

He is kept indoors (living room, not garage) when not touring St. Louis and Franklin counties and has never been used as a clothes rack…oddly enough.

Recently he toured Ft. Wayne, IN (one of the most boring cycling places on earth because they have these weird things called ” bike paths”) and he seemed really happy just to be off the trainer.  He’s adorable and very agreeable.

If you know me, you know how often/little I ride this bike.  If you don’t know me, that is sad for you because I am AWESOME…and so are my bikes.

OK, so George is $3,700.00 USD with the Quarq, and $2,700.00 without the Quarq (MSRP when new was $7,200.00 w/o Quarq).

Do not confuse the two prices unless you delight in having people laugh in your face…as I will do that.  I have no filters.  Believe.

OK, there you go.  Contact me at gorydreadmond (at) gmail (dot) com with any questions.

PS: I am taking the pink bottle cage, so you are on your own there.  Don’t cry.

*The Trek WSD Madone that I owned had both pink and sparkle.  Don’t hate.

**I will ship this bike in the continental U.S.  Outside of that you will have to pony up some coin or come and get him.

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Christian For Sale – UPDATED

Posted on February 21, 2012 | Leave a comment

:: UPDATE::

I have taken Christian off the market.  I am not ready to sell him and since I have listed George, I am just going to go that route.  Sorry for being a tease; I just love Christian too much to let him go.  Peace.

With a heavy heart I must post that I have decided to sell Christian, my beloved, amazing and beautiful CX god of a bike.

While I think I would rather sell George, the completely useless road bike…

…I realize that George is more practical for the acquiring of the almighty base miles and the everlasting sitting on the trainer.

I think.

I don’t know.

*shrugs*

I think maybe I feel that George just isn’t as hot as Christian and that people will actually want Christian because George is really just another roadie…and really, who needs that?

I kid.  George is also pretty.  Thank god.

*sigh*

Christian has brought me much happiness and a few podiums in the short time that I have had him (one cx season).

He has been cheered by fans at the National level and he likes to party.

I am buzzed in this photo taken at CX Nats and carrying a flask.

He is light as fuck, because let us be honest, my ass sure is not particularly fast and somehow I passed a racer or two from time to time to win beer and those adorable ribbon/medal thingies…I credit Christian.

If you are already a fast bike racer, Christian will bring you many “happy endings” and frankly yields better results than puppies and babies as far as conversation starters.  (I have both.  Trust me on this.)

No one has ever stopped me to talk about my road bike.  Case rested.

Christian looks great in photos and will make your people think you are “pro”.

He can do anything (ANYTHING!)*

You should have him…but only if you intend to race him.  The last person to whom I sold a cx bike not only let it fly off her roof rack (not her fault) but also never raced him… the poor dear.

Here is the skinny on Christian:

He is a 50cm 2012 Ridley X-Night frame:

He has:

  • 1.5” oversized lower head tube bearing and fork crown for superior control and stiffness;
  • Mudless tube technology on fork and seat stays;
  • Fully integrated Kevlar cable guides for smooth shifting and longer cable life;
  • Fully replaceable CNC rear drop outs for improved shifting and durability
  • BB30 bottom bracket reduces q-factor and weight whilst increasing stiffness;

More data is here:  RIDLEY X-NIGHT 2012 FRAMESET

Christian is being sold as a complete bike.  SRAM Force shifters and front derailleur and Rival in the rear.  SRAM cranks.  Pedals and saddle not included.

$2,500.00 with Fulcrum Racing wheels and clinchers…

…or $2,950.00 with Rokkit Wheels’ Rokkit R50 Carbons and Challenge Fangos.

(Methinks we all know the better deal here, yes?)

Email me with inquiries at: gorydreadmond (at) gmail (dot) com and/or post valid questions in the comments.

Peace.

*Disclaimer:  Christian is a bike.  A bicycle.  He cannot do “anything”.  He can only do what you make him do and that requires participation on your part.  He will not cook you eggs florentine, clean your house, or walk your dogs.  He does not do laundry or pay bills.  He most certainly cannot fly, so don’t be a dumbass and try that shit.  He is not a horse and will not buck you, but if you end up bloody while riding him you are either a klutz, the people around you are klutzes, it is Suicidal Squirrel Day, or you are having a “lady moment”.  Do not blame Christian or me and request return payment for any of that nonsense.  If for some ungodly reason you ride him after purchase and hate him, I will take him back and refund your money in full…after inspecting him with an infrared light.  Do not think I joke about this because I do not.  If I find a crack, you are screwed.  If I find spooge, I will understand…but will still request you clean him up and then return him for your full refund.  I reserve the right to refuse to sell him to people whom I do not believe will provide him a good home or who have been mean to me or are just too fucking ugly (inside or out) for this bike.  I reserve the right to change my mind on the sale if I cry for more than 120 seconds after agreeing to sell.  That is all.  For now.

**I will ship within the continental U.S.  Outside of that, you must coin up or fly out.

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Posted in bike racing, cyclocross, humor, Life, psychocross

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Love…Actually

Posted on February 15, 2012 | 1 Comment

Love Actually is a fantastic movie.

This post has nothing at all to do with that movie, but I had to acknowledge it for what it is.

This post is about how a person who loathes Valentine’s day with the passion of one thousand suns got past that little issue and realized how gosh darn lucky she really is.

The adorable little hateress in today’s story is none other than the super, mega, awesome biotchness who typed the post you are now reading.

ME!!!!  (Duh.)

So the story goes like this…

I have always hated Valentine’s Day.  It started when I was 6 and I had a crush on  the butcher.

(Yep.  The butcher.  The guy who slices deli meats, not some freaking serial murderer.  Sheesh!)

I would go see him every Saturday morning during the shopping trip and man was he a hottie.

To clarify my idea of “hottie” at the age of 6, I liked Andy Gibb, Jon from CHiPs, and Potsie on Happy Days.  I was an odd child.

Well, I dug this butcher. His name was John (or Jon); I never asked.

What I do know is that someone revealed my love for him.  A love I had kindled since I was about 5.  I used to try to dazzle him with my mad dancing skills and Snoopy knee socks.  (This shocks you, yes?)

John gave me a gift the year I was 6.  On Valentine’s Day he gave me a gift of 2 stuffed monkeys hugging.  (I know.  That was technically very sweet and technically, John was a good guy.)

What he did after he gave me the monkeys is tell me that he was getting married.

Ummmm…’scuuuuuuze, me…?!?!?

To whom?

Not me.  (Again, Brooklyn; not Bayou Country.)

Since I was not then as I am not now in possession of a credible “poker face”, I can only imagine what my look must have said.  What I do know is that I stormed right out of the deli and stood next to the bike awaiting Anna to finish the shopping and get us on with my life without John/Jon.

I refused to go back into that deli on any following Saturday and did not attend his wedding, to which Anna and I were both invited.

That was it.

I considered Valentines’ Day a day of people giving you gifts because they fall short in the ways in which you wish they would not…

…and more importantly, a day on which people (like my 6-year old self) hold unrealistic expectations of the people whom we allegedly love.

I didn’t need that stress.

When I got older and was what we now call a “tween”, the V Day stress came up again.  Oh my GAWD, do junior high school girls stress out about this shit!

Ugh.  I had to play the game because they already thought I was a freak and that would have been worse if I didn’t act like I gave a shit about holidays and “love”.  Double ugh.

“Love” when you are 12 is some boy with braces and big blue eyes who you hope will grow up to be cool like your grandpa but of whom you could not currently imagine kissing because there seems to be a lot of spit going on there and you have heard horror stories about braces wires and said wires poking through people’s mouths…which would not only be painful but would get you in a heap of steaming trouble at home.

No thanks.

You might still let this boy kiss you with what you will later realize is the messiest excuse for a kiss ever and wonder how it is that your gag reflexes were not triggered by having to wipe that person’s spit off your face.

BLEH!

(Hi!  I was a little bit uptight as a kid, if you have not guessed that by now.)

So, yeah…V Day was about unrealistic expectations which turned into unrealistic physical expectations, which by high school had turned into all that PLUS a full-blown competition amongst the study body…even if unspoken.

Just what I needed; another reason to absolutely loathe high school and the fact that I was not a tall/petite blonde who was adorable with perfect skin and the whitest Keds on the planet.  Awesome.  Go me!

Later in life, once my body grew into itself and I figured out how to maintain my eyebrows, V Day took on  a different spin.  A spin in which I was left with the unfortunate task of having to plan things or receive ill-conceived gifts (like the XL white down MEN’S jacket  and red lace Onesie I got in ’97)…

…or irrational gifts (like the 2.06 ct diamond I was presented with by a friend who knew I was engaged to someone else but believed himself to be the better catch, in 1999).  Maybe he was a better catch, but the act freaked me out enough to run far, far away.  As far as I know, he has not hurled himself off a cliff and is married to a lovely girl who said yes.

I always felt a lot of pressure on Valentine’s Day to do or be something that I am not.

I was either supposed to act romantic toward someone to whom I did not wish or  I had to explain to this person or that person why I did not wish to spend my day doing alleged romantic things.

Blah, blah, blah…

Every year, whether single, dating, engaged, or married, there has been some sort of mess associated with Valentine’s Day.

…and someone’s feelings getting hurt; typically (TYPICALLY) not mine.

I do as well at Valentine’s Day as I do with dating.  I do not do well with forced discomfort that relies on others for a result.

I can make myself damn uncomfortable on the bike any old time and know that the only thing keeping me from and/or getting me my happy ending is me…and sometimes a stray tree.

Yesterday, I was reminded, without intent, by some friends and my kiddos that Valentine’s Day can just be about a good meal (or two) and eating candy while watching a sappy movie with sparkly vampires while your dogs work out their issues with each other.

There doesn’t have to be an expensive gift, or a restaurant, or dressing up.

There can be happiness about roses given to your little girl by her daddy…

…and happiness about the fact that you have surrounded yourself with the kind of people who would rather chill out than exploit and diminish the grandeur of real love for superficial demonstration of commercialism.

Don’t get me wrong, plenty of people truly love the people for whom they make February 14th a romantic day…but I am also willing to bet that those people demonstrate their love the other 364/365 days per year as well.

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Posted in humor, Life, romance

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The Blame Game

Posted on February 8, 2012 | Leave a comment

Ty, Meg Pie, and I just got roped into a discussion while watching AndersonCooper…for the few moments that we could tolerate the position being presented and the sloppy manner in which it was presented.

In a nutshell, some scorned wives were blaming legalized prostitution for their spouses’ infidelity.

Hmmmm….

Really?

How many states have legalized prostitution in theUS?

*crickets chirping*

Exactly one state.

How many people commit adultery in the US (male and female)?

(pssssstttt….LOTS!)

I assure you that the cheaters in the other 49 states are not trekking their sweet asses to Nevada to get their groove on.

First, I am pretty sure prostitution (legal or otherwise) has ZERO to do with the cause of infidelity.

I know my fair share of cheaters and only one has ever sought out professional services.

What about the female cheaters?  How do they do it? There is not exactly the same prostitution market available for women who wish to stray.  Yet, women cheat too…and I am guessing the statistics are not too far behind their male counterparts.

People cheat for a variety of reasons, including but not limited to psychological issues stemming from insecurity, narcissism, antisocial personality disorder, and histrionic personality disorder.

Secondly, no one can force someone to stray.  If there is force involved, it is not cheating; it is rape/assault, so one might want to watch how they toss around the whole “force” angle.

To blame anyone for the actions of another is ludicrous.  Come on now.

The one wife actually said, “My ex said that the reason he utilized the services of a prostitute was because it was there and the service was as easy as ordering a pizza.”

Yep.  It is true that it is easy to acquire the services of a professional.

You know what?

It’s just as easy to acquire the services of a therapist to assist you in working through why you feel the urge to break the vows of your marriage and act is such a selfish and destructive way, but your husband chose anchovy.  Own that.

It’s easy to buy cigarettes or go to McDonald’s too and Lord knows both markets have pretty strong campaigns whoring out their products, and yet plenty of people choose to not smoke and not eat McDonald’s.  Go figure.

Give me a McFuggin’ break, man.  How about a little accountability in this world?

I don’t know if I am more amused that the husband used the “availability” excuse or that the wife bought it and is now blaming the prostitute.

Your husband/wife cheated because they are selfish and rather douchebaggish.  You may not want to believe that because you want to keep the door unlocked for a possible reconciliation and you are having difficulty swallowing how that fact makes you feel about yourself, but that is your own issue.  The licensed whore was simply performing her job. 

Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of non-prostitutes who seek out people in relationships/marriages because they like the challenge/conquest and those people have their own bags of issues to deal with, but even the most talented seductress/seductor cannot make a non-cheater cheat.

I hate any argument that forces me to argue on behalf of whores because frankly, the exploitation of our gender is sad and insulting to those of us who have worked hard to make sure we stayed off our backs and the pole.

The above statement made, the infidelity topic is separate and deserved to be addressed as even broken women need a defense at times when they are ill equipped to do so themselves.  These sad females have enough psychological issues of their own without taking on the baggage of wives who married the wrong man.

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The Tricky Church Trap

Posted on February 7, 2012 | 2 Comments

I know what you are thinking.  You are thinking this will be one of my fantastically uncomfortable anti-church rants.

You know what?

It is…sort of…but not really.

I mean, it is, but it has nothing to to with religion; it has to do with the Town and Country Popo.

Dear T&C Police:

You are an amusingly menacing bunch.  You know that?  I mean that in the nicest, law-abiding way possible, but really, you need to chill the hell out and allow some things to be “sacred”.

You know what is wrong?

Hiding in a church parking lot attempting to trap speeders who are just trying to get their asses to work in the morning.

What’s worse?

Hiding in a church parking lot on a HILL so that when the alleged speeders see you, they all slam on their effing brakes and fuck shit up for the masses behind them.

I feel alright with myself in a non-guilty way because I happened to be doing 56 MPH at the time that I saw you and I was going with the flow, so really, how many speeders were out there this morning?  Let it go, man.

There is just something fundamentally wrong with someone (ANYONE) hiding behind a cross, lying in wait to do evil things like ruin someone’s morning.

(haha…get it?  ”Lying in wait”.  I’m funny.)

You want to do that shit, at least do it on the shoulder or in the driveway of an assisted living facility, but not the church where (some) people go to feel safe.

Let’s be honest, people in general (unless they are on bikes) feel safe in Town and Country because traffic crimes are the big deal; not “real” stuff.

As a former Catholic, I for one get a little sick/anxious when I see a cop car in a church lot because…well…you know…The Catholic Church is a little messy with the laws right now/forever.

What I do know is that for all the people who rant about Jesus and God and what he/they would want, I can say that Jesus is NOT (N-O-T = not) down with speed traps set up at his house.

I have never read in the Bible that he hated the gays, or a particular race, or other religions.  (Though I do have some doubts that the authors of The Old Testament thought highly of women, but that is another post entirely.  Jesus clearly liked the ladies and loved his mommy and that is all good with me.)

What I have read in the Bible is that The Big JC LOVED sinners!  LOVED them!  He didn’t fuck their shit up and oddly enough, he had more than an ounce of perspective regarding the level of sins.

Speeding, though not a thing in his time, could not have been that big a deal if he forgave the assholes who crucified him.  Come on.

[weighs crucifiction v. speeding and raises one snarky eyebrow and smirks]

All I am saying is that if you must speed trap sweet and semi-innocent lead-footed folks, park somewhere else.

Park someplace that will have added benefits….like McFugginDonalds!  That would be a fantastic idea and a community service because folks might start looking at it with scorn since the whole “nutritional facts” thing is clearly a big fail.  Oy.

[drops head in hands and sighs]

Anyway, that was my two cents, which I was able to write without bias because I was not one of the unfortunate souls caught in your web this morning.  I feel fortunate that you did not write me a ticket for which I would need to contribute more of my adorably tiny salary because frankly, I don’t have much more than two cents at the moment so please also allow this paragraph to perform as a formal “Thank You” on my behalf.  You guys are awesome…and pretty…and strong…*GRRRRR!*…and your cars are really neato!

*kisses*

-Me

*Disclaimer:  This post was written in humor and I have no beef with the T&C Police.  They have not screwed with me since 2004 and I deserved it one of the two times.  (Twas an odd year.)  I really do not care where they park but do believe parking in front of fast food restaurants (this works for any police department, really) would deter people from eating there and thus might actually provide said folks an additional (if unintentional) service.

I do not dislike cops and am rather fascinated with much of what they do outside of the ticket-writing which has been a thorn in my side since I was 16 with a Mustang.  My late grandmother, aka “Racer Annie”, also agreed with me on tickets and I write this in homage to her spectacularly-shoed lead foot.

I support all law enforcement with regard to their DUI/DWI efforts and always will.

I would also support law enforcement fucking with people who drive slow in the left lane, but T&C does that and they get a HUGE thumbs up from me for those efforts and it makes me want to give them a giant hug.

*SQUEEEEEZE!* 

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