thank you, hot dude who loves chocolate.

checking my stats, i see i'm not alone... 44 of you found my webpage this month by looking for pictures of william levy, the cute guy from the m&m commercial.  we should form a club.  but i get to be president.

bonus eye candy (you're welcome):

no lesson today.  enjoy!

you're not the boss of me.

i'll pay you cash money if you can explain why the window between "you're too young to have kids" and "why don't you have kids yet?" lasts approximately 3 femtoseconds? (*please check out the fun-filled facts regarding units of time at the bottom of this blog.)

at a recent family gathering, an elderly relative was questioning all the women around me about their young, adorable children.  i could feel my turn coming and i broke out in a cold sweat.  there was no escaping.  "so do you have any children?".  "ha no...".  "well, you're not getting any younger".

sigh.  i have so many reasons for not having children, the least of which is being incapable of getting a guy to stick around longer than the human gestation period.  unless there was a guy was willing to support me mentally and financially (or to find an appropriate gentleman for me - preferably this guy), and well... i just can't accomplish the physical part alone, so the odds of me having children anytime soon are pretty slim.

plus i have 9 other reasons why not:

lesson for guys: 'til you start popping out the rugrats, keep your trap shut.

*fun-filled fact about time:
          FACT: a "jiffy" and a "shake" ARE in fact scientific units of time!  a "jubilee" is a biblical unit of time!  a jiffy is "the amount of time light takes to travel one fermi (about the size of a nucleon) in a vacuum", a shake is equal to 10 nanoseconds, and a jubilee is 50 years.  thanks, wikipedia!

if only i were a mad scientist.

has anyone else seen this commercial?  holy moly that guy is cute!!  i'm sure i've seen him in other things, but go figure... the thing that sold me was the m&m commercial.  wow.  let's see him one more time.  gee whiz.

in other news, even though i am done with dating (at least for now), i am in LOOOOOOVE!  and i don't care who knows it!  just like this guy.  the link is borderline irritating, i apologize for that.  but i AM!  completely in love, that is!  everyone... i'd like you to meet teddie.

so delicious and never lets me down.  now... if only i were a mad scientist, and i had one of those machines for combining two things... i want a teddie peanut butter william levy.  oh gosh, even typing it is making me want to swoon... i'm glad i'm sitting down because my knees are weak right now.  don't judge me.  you know you'd eat a peanut butter willam levy.

lesson for guys: you may stand a chance if you cover yourself in peanut butter.  or chocolate.  perhaps nutella.  but don't use imitation stuff.  i'll know the difference, and will likely inflict one of the following on you:

• kick you in the shins
• flick you in the ear
• poke you in the eye like the stooge that you are

consider yourself warned.

this is me, containing myself.

walking once again in sweaty, nasty gym clothes (don't judge me), i felt something behind me.  creeping.  hovering.  edging ever closer...

i had headphones in, but he persisted until i was forced to stop and talk to him at a traffic light.  it was as i suspected - a creepy dude.

he asked me one or two arbitrary questions, but in his defense, he didn't beat around the bush.  "so do you have a guy"?
"yes", i lied.
creepy dude: "well how close are you?"
me: "ummm pretty close, he's pretty awesome."
creepy dude: "yo, i could come between you two?"
me: "noooo... um, i don't think so.  he's a pretty good guy, i'm pretty happy with him.  good guys are hard to find."
creepy dude: "you just found one".
me: "siiiiiiiiiiiigh"

as he continued to speak, i had an image slowly edge its way into my mind.  he looked less like a man, and more like...

he was slimy and prickly at the same time.  based on prior experience, my guess is that he thought he was really smooth.  in reality, any woman with eye or ears would know he was about as smooth as one of these:

fact is, i'd rather wipe my nose with one of these than spend any more time around that guy.

lesson for guys:  NO!  STOP IT!  DOWN!  leave girls alone when they are wearing gym clothes and have both earphones in.  also, you are NOT a good guy when you volunteer to come between a girl and her guy.  even if he is fictional.  stop that, too.

laaaaaaaaame.

i can't make these things up.  i am either very, very blessed, or horribly cursed.  i was walking in a very congested area the other morning, and there was a lot of construction going on, both sides of the street.  where there is construction, there are generally construction workers (unless they're on union break, which leaves about a 30% chance of actually seeing a construction worker).  you may have noticed i've been a bit down on the dumps and hard on myself lately, and my inner narcissist thought: "well, as long as you're walking by construction workers, there's a chance one of them will say something that will boost your ego!" (even if it's from this guy)

 

i walked through a herd of about 20 or so construction workers, and all i got was "hey, not bad".  wow.  really?  that's all you've got?  it wasn't enough to give me an ego boost.  it certainly wasn't even enough for me to pretend to get indignant.  i've gotten better compliments from this guy:

lesson for (construction worker) guys: please... if you're going to say something, please make it lewd enough for me to get indignant or funny/ridiculous enough to make me laugh and/or give me an ego boost.  do your job, for crying out loud.  take some lessons.  isn't that in the construction worker job description????

heavy breathing does not turn me on.

oh, dear.  it seems some of you gentleman have been misinformed.  despite what other "dude" friends or possible pornos have told you, hearing the sound of you breathing heavily (borderline panting) behind me, does not... EVER... turns girls on.  while walking home today, i had headphones on, as always.  and more than likely, they were louder than they needed to be.  AND YET!  i still  heard the hombre walking a little too closely behind me.  mind you, i was walking from the gym, so i was a sweaty, gnarly mess.  and there's noooo excuse on this earth for the look i saw in his eyes.  when i heard "pssst pssst" "psst pssst" sandwiched by heavy, raspy breathing in between, i turned around to see a skinny little man staring intently at my caboose, i'm pretty sure i made a face like this:

you: creepy little youngish man.  you: no excuse for heaving and breathing while walking entirely too close for comfort.  it makes me think you need one of these:

it makes me picture you looking a whole lot more like this:

than like one of these (i included a variety, i have no idea what floats your boat):

lesson for guys: stop walking too close.  if i can feel you behind me without turning around?  you are TOO CLOSE.  stop breathing so heavily while you are walking behind me that i can hear you over my hot polka jams of the 60s and 70s, you are breathing TOO HEAVILY.  unless of course, you ARE asthmatic, weight over seven hundo, or have just finished the boston marathon.  in any or all of these cases, i will give you a free pass.  but only for the breathing part, you still can not walk too closely.  that's just annoying.

i have stupendous news.

there ARE still good people out there.

also good news.  i've made an important decision.  if i can't figure this whole guy thing out, i'm going to find this bear...

no lesson today.  just cogitate.

my new hero

i wanted to publish this bonus post to let you know i have not lost hope.  someday i will meet the man of my dreams who feels the same about me.  even if i am pushing 90.  or maybe in a nursing home.  this is how i picture it.  go get 'em, grandma.

there were warning signs.

has a guy ever thown a warning sign at you?  and maybe you ignored it?  ladies!  i'm here to tell you.  DO. NOT. IGNORE. WARNING. SIGNS.  especially if they are readily hurled at your head like a brick.  i'm going to start a list for all of you to use as... i don't want to call it a "bible" per se... so i'll say guidelines.  if he exhibits any (or god forbid more than one, or even the dreaded all), RUN!

 
FLEE!  as fast as your legs will carry you, whatever the length, for goodness sakes, abandon ship!!

(please don't sue me, LOLCATS, where this picture is from)

GET OUT!  BY ANY MEANS YOU CAN! 

okay, without further ado, i present to you THE LIST:
-he is unable (unwilling) to introduce you to friends
-he is unable (unwilling) to introduce you to family
-he spells your name wrong (if you have a new relationship, and very exotic name, you can disregard this one -seriously)
-if he does not have a good relationship with his mother and/or female relatives
-he tells your own hilarious stories back to you, but claims they "happened to him too" when you call him out 
-if he shows up at your work so much that you have to ask your manager to ban him
-if he doesn't like animals (this doesn't mean he has to be willing to tongue kiss your pet labradoodle, but if he mistreats animals, he would most likely mistreat a person)
-never ever if he "works under the table" - it usually means he doesn't work and likes it that way
-he is more curious whether they make your 4" heels in his size than how they look on you
-you know more about his ex-girlfriend than you do about some of your friends you've known since grade school
-he is over the age of 26 (i am being generous here), still lives with his parents, and his room has not changed since he was 16 (a very good friend suggests eliminating him from your dating pool if he lives in his parent's basement)
-he can't remember the name of some of the people he's slept with.  and he thinks that's funny.
-he tells you in advance that his future plans (for say 10 years or so) will not include you
-there is a chance he has many, many children 
-HE IS UNWILLING TO GIVE YOU A TITLE AND/OR INTRODUCES YOU TO HIS FRIENDS AS "A FRIEND"

*UPDATE:  oh my lovelies, i fear i have hit a nerve with this blog article.  i have gotten a lot of responses, including:
-being evasive about his life
-telling too MUCH about his life too soon
-if he drinks too much
-trying to push for too serious too fast
-staring at other women while talking to you


and my favorite: "if he has a  ponytail down to his @$$, weighs 250 and tells you you'd look great on the back of his Harley... nekkid". (thanks, mom)

ladies, please please feel free to add to this list.  rest assured i will come back and add more guidelines as i recall them or new ones reveal themselves to me... 

in the meantime, i've thrown in the towel on dating.  at least for now, or until the thought of it no longer gives me hives.  i'm going to move here, and you're allllll welcome to join me.  do me a favor, and leave the men at home.

bonus!

just saying.

(super secret) #1 thing girls love: being called fat.

 

i had a special treat today.  it almost made me swoon right off my chair.  i was eating a granola bar with peanut butter (granted, i was dipping it in the full jar of peanut butter at the time, but if you pretend you've never done that before, you are a dirty stinking ape of a liar).  the kid next to me (i'll call him the "mensa mammoth") turns to me and says: "are you dipping that granola bar in peanut butter"?  i nod (my mouth was full of delicious granola and peanut butter, and i'm too effing polite to talk with my mouth full).  mensa mammoth responds with a (smooth) smile: "classic fat kid move".   ummm... please stop.  you had me at "fat kid".  

this is the face i made:

lesson for guys: i will make you sit in the corner and wear one of these... but instead, you will have to write a bajillion times: "i will keep my fat mouth closed".

does not compute.

i'm just going to start this "article" immediately with the lesson for guys: telling a girl that "your babies would be beautiful" does NOT make you less creepy.  it makes about as much sense as this:

and makes me feel like this:

i dare you to keep pestering me.  i know exactly how to equally creepify you.  i will demand one of these: 

but larger and more sparkly.

bonus lesson for guys: creepy is NEVER a trait women look for.

it can not be unseen.

for the record... THIS is the opposite of what i want for my birthday.  i would rather have one of these or even one of these.  but what i REALLY want?  is this!

is "garlic" code for crack?

i have a horrible addiction that i am deeply ashamed of.  if i were catholic, i would tell the priest in confession.  i'll tell you, but you have to promise not to mock me.  ok.  ready?

it's these.  cheese and garlic croutons.  holy mother.  msg isn't on the list of ingredients, but something in that bag makes me wanna mow through these like a cow with cud.  a horse with oats.  some other farm animal with some other farm animal food.  stop laughing and shut up, i'm serious.  i have a serious problem with these.  and then they went on sale.  i'll need a fat scooter soon if i keep up at the pace i'm going.  if msg isn't in here, i figure one of these other ingredients must have some addictive property.  i need help, but i haven't found a "croutons anonymous" support group yet...  if i don't manage to quit, i'm pretty certain of my fate.

you know it's love when...

 

always there for me.  never lets me down.  always effing delicious.  always makes me smile.  for my next birthday i would like a life-sized chocolate mold of a man.  (as one friend says - of easter bunnies - "EAT THE EYES FIRST!")

yes. my sweatpants have an elastic waistband.

as i write this, i am making every attempt not to swoon.  my heart is all a-flutter.  i believe it may have even... yes, it just skipped a beat.  being the ever giving fountain of compliments that he is, le cafard informed me that i "look good most days, except those days when (i) just don't give a fu@k".  hmm.

*newsflash* nine times out of ten?  i do not give a rat turd about how i look or what other people think.  i am not a complete slob, but i don't see the point in spending more than 15 or 20 minutes to do hair and makeup in the morning when i have a very physical job where i'm guaranteed to sweat and get nasty within an hour of the time i arrive on the job.  even drake in all his sagely wisdom said: "Sweat pants, hair tied, chillin' with no make-up on.  That's when you're the prettiest, I hope that you don't take it wrong"

come on now.  nobody is perfect allllll the time.  not even you, cafard.  i am holding out for a guy that thinks i'm a slamming piece of apple fritter regardless of whether i've spent 1.5 hours to get ready or just rolled out of bed.  remember what i said about the girls without eyebrows?  nobody can be made up all the time.  i'll give you a few minutes to recover from the shock of that shocking shocker.  seriously though... if you can't take me at my worst?  please, home fry, you can not take me at all. 

lesson for guys: wanna score points?  tell a girl she looks hotter than vindaloo even when she looks about as hot as a soggy french fry found on the floor of the car between the seat and console.  and you can't remember the last time you had french fries.