Franken Freak

28 Oct


4 hours in a dental chair and I am greeted back at the office by a 6’5, 290 lb. giant whose hand was as big as my head.

I ushered him into a conference room and began to listen to his story. For 2 hours this man emotionally vomited all over me. Without hesitation the first thing out of his mouth was, “This is a little embarrassing, but I have E.D.” My mind started racing, “Why is he telling me this? I guess he’s not that embarrassed after all. Shit, I forgot to get gas on the way back from the dentist.”

He caught my attention again when he said, “And that’s when we started an adult toy company.” What? “And now we are swingers.” Ok, now call me crazy, but the whole E.D. thing coupled with the whole swinger thing isn’t very compatible is it? And just as I started to ponder the pairing of these two ingredients he emphatically stated, “I have to take Viagra.” Well never mind then.

Now please keep in mind that at this point, I can’t feel my face from the nose down due to having  endured numerous Novocaine injections, not too mention how groggy I was from being in a dentist chair for so long. I started to feel the right side of my lip begin to twitch and I am almost positive that I had a little bit of drool dripping down my chin. Twitching lips and drooling from the mouth are not things you want to do when you are sitting in front of a man who is hopped up on dick medicine and ready to pounce on anything that has a pulse.

I did my best to keep from laughing as he rose up from his seat and demonstrated how he found his wife and another woman in a “numerical position”. Seriously? Now he’s forcing me to think? My inner voice was screaming, “Shut the hell up! Please, just shut up!”

The sun began to set as Shrek spun tales of debauchery and endless nights of numerical positions. It began to rain. The leaves began to fall. Fall turned into winter. Ok, the last part wasn’t true, but this guy kept rambling. How could anyone have sex with this man? He never stops talking!

My eyes were glazed over until he said, “She is just so sexy. You ever see the Exorcist?” I immediately snapped out of my daze, “Did you hear what you just said? Let’s rewind for a moment and examine the part where you said you thought the Exorcist was sexy.”

Eventually I figured out a way to get him to leave, but I have to wonder, the Exorcist? Sexy?

Maybe that’s what I’m doing wrong.

Note to self, learn how to projectile vomit pea soup and make head spin around in order to get a man.

Who knew?!


A Fine Looking Freak

6 Oct


Is nothing sacred anymore? I went to the nail salon yesterday to get a pedicure and everywhere I turned, I saw a man.

The nail salon is mecca to women around the world. It is a place where members of the female population gather to bitch, moan, and gossip about anything and everything without any interference from the opposite sex. It is a non-judgemental zone where no one gives a second thought as to why your eyes are puffy and your cheeks are stained with last night’s mascara, or why your shirt has baby vomit on it, or even why you are still wearing your favorite sweatpants despite the hole in the crotch.

But now that is all ruined. Ruined by men who feel the need to be waxed, buffed, and shined so they can feel fresh and pretty.

Don’t men have enough already? They make more money than women in the workplace, it is mostly men who are the leaders of the free world, there is a shortage of available men on the market, and for god’s sake, they can pee standing up! Do they really have to take this from us too?

Look, I’m all for women’s rights, but I don’t believe the suffragettes had the foresight to envision a world in which women and men live together getting their respective parts waxed side by side.

So to all you metrosexual men, I applaud you for wanting to rid yourselves of back hair and pesky unibrows, but please keep it a secret, much like the porn on your computer that you don’t think we know about, and stay out of our domain!

Parlez-Vous Von Freak?

29 Sep
Girl meets boy.Stick_Figure_Love_by_muffla
Boy e-mails girl.
Girl is intrigued because boy is 6 years younger then girl.
Girl gives boy her phone number.
Boy text messages girl.
Girl is perplexed, but plays along.
Boy text messages girl again.
And again.
And again, until girl can’t take it anymore and asks if they are ever going to meet face to face or if he will ever communicate with her using the telephone for its intended purpose, speaking.
Boy ignores her request.
Boy, still text messaging, asks girl to go to the beach.
Girl is not 22 and there is no way girl would ever agree to such a meeting on a first date.
Boy is offended.
Girl explains to boy that the beach is not her idea of an appropriate first date. She is mindful of girl code and never reveals the real reasons behind her refusal. Those reasons include melting mascara due to the heat, frizzy hair due to the humidity, and last but not least, her inability to find the right angle in which she can suck in her stomach so she can look fabulous in her bikini.
Boy then suggests, via text message, that girl should come and watch him play racquet ball.
Girl is getting pissed, annoyed, and losing interest.
Girl has suggested meeting for coffee or a drink several times but has been told she is “lame”.
Girl has had enough.
Girl has come to the conclusion that boy is nothing more than a cheap, mute and wants him to leave her alone.
Boy thinks girl is playing hard to get and starts text messaging sad faces and sending concerned e-mails.  
It never occurs to boy that he should call girl.
Boy has suddenly become thirsty and is now asking girl to meet for drinks.
Girl ignores boy, who eventually gets sucked into the vortex of dating hell, leaving girl to draw the conclusion that dating a boy 6 years younger in theory sounds great, but in reality isn’t worth the aggravation.
Therefore, girl has decided to swap her boy toy for a more appreciative, vibrating plaything. A couple of Duracells and this toy will follow her anywhere. No stomach sucking required.

Me? A Finicky Freak?

22 Sep

125861-teethSince I have retired from online dating and the bar scene doesn’t seem to be any better, I am convinced that after watching a Lifetime Movies for Women marathon, that the perfect guy is just going to waltz into my life, sweep me off my feet, and whisk me away in his shiny, red Mercedes. Provided he’s not a pimp, serial killer or polygamist. Those Lifetime movies can get a little twisted.

You see, my proverbial “day job” affords me the opportunity to meet many people from all walks of life. It just so happens, this past Thursday, a rather striking, man strolled his way right into my life. He was attractive and young and totally flirting with me, but…

I think my mother was right (god help me for saying that) maybe I am too picky, but this guy had a gray front tooth that I couldn’t stop looking at. He had really pretty blue eyes, was nicely dressed, an athletic build and one HUGE gray tooth. It was humongous! I couldn’t stop staring at it. There he was telling me his whole life story and all I could think was, “My god, doesn’t he know he has a gray tooth? Why wouldn’t he get that fixed? I can see on his pay stub that he has dental insurance. Does he like the gray tooth?” I swear this went on for almost an hour. Does that make me superficial? Is it so much to ask for a complete package? A guy who is sweet and funny and sexy and doesn’t have tooth decay?

Maybe this is why I’m not married.

Happy Freakin’ Birthday!

17 Sep


When I was a kid my birthday was all I could think about. Next to summer vacation and Hanukkah, it was the best day of the year. It was all about presents, cake, and parties. Now that I’m an adult, I find that I am forever trying to push back the hands of time and find a stop button that doesn’t exist.

I don’t really look my age so I do have that on my side, but there comes a time in a single woman’s life when she is stuck between a cougar and a hard place.

I was walking to the ladies room at work today and there was a group of middle aged men standing in front of the bathroom. They saw me coming and checked me out as I made my way through them.

As a side note,  attention men: standing outside the women’s bathroom checking out a woman is not flattering. You will not meet the woman of your dreams over a urinal cake. The smell of Pine Sol wafting through the air will not seduce nor woo her. So if you see a woman making her way to the ladies room and you are standing in front of it with your pot bellied buddies, get the hell out of her way!

Sorry, I got a little ahead of myself, ahem, as I was saying, these guys didn’t realize that I could hear every word they were saying while I was using the lavatory. There they were. Three gray haired men yakking about angina and office gossip.  If I didn’t know they were men, I would think they were women!

Is this what I have to look forward to as I navigate my way through the wide, world of dating? Wait, men like that don’t even want to date me, they want to date 20 year olds! So I would have to date up and over the middle aged man, which would put me into the senior citizens arena or I would have to date downward which could put me in prison.

So basically I can date the guy from the Dannon commercials (and if you get that 1970’s pop culture reference, congratulations, you are in my age bracket) or the guy that watches Scooby Doo at 8 a.m. on Saturday mornings.

Hmmm…Depends or diapers? I’ll have to think about that.

The Freak Doesn’t Fall Far From the Tree

13 Sep


At sundown tonight the start of Yom Kippur began. It is the holiest time of year for Jews. It is a time to absolve all sins from the past year and quite frankly, a time to start sinning in the new year. Yeah, yeah, yeah everyone says they will be a better person this year. They will be kinder, gentler, more forgiving, blah, blah, blah, but let’s face, it’s all a bunch of crap. The same thing happens come December 31st, but by January 5th half the population is back to its old ways.

Now I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that. Hey, I’m human. In fact, I should be fasting right now and I’m already 3 Cheez-Its and a TruMoo into the night. Oops. See, already I suck at this.

The other facets of Yom Kippur are to remember those who have passed and to reflect on the past year. It will be 2 years since my mom died and I am only now coming out of the fog that has clouded my brain for the past 24 months.

So because this is the Jewish New Year, I am going to stop feeling the ache that pierces my heart every minute of every hour because I can not see, touch, talk, or feel my mom, but instead, I am going to start remembering the woman who also attracted many a freak herself.

Freaks such as the man who sold staples, not the store, but the kind that holds paper together, and stalked her at the bagel shop she frequented with the Ladies that Lunch. Or the landscaper who wore short, shorts and told my mother that he prefers going commando because it “lets the boys breathe”. And lest we forget, my dad. Hey, you think I got here by myself? My parents were married for 50 years before she passed. That’s freaky enough in and of itself.

I will smile when I think of how she insisted on saying, in her thick, Jewish, Bronx-ese accent, the words brassiere, bloomers, and tuchis. How she would always tell me, “Keep your legs crossed!” as I was walking out the door to go on a date. To which I always replied, “You can still have sex that way ma!”

Yes, my mother loved to hit me with one liners when a date was either coming or going. I remember one time in particular when she opened the door for a blind date I was waiting for, she looked at him and then looked at me and said, “Well this one will never leave you.” then turned on her heels and walked away. I was speechless and so was the guy who heard her.

Maya Angelou said, “To describe my mother would be to write about a hurricane in its perfect power”.

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

As for my fast, what can I say, I’ll start again tomorrow.  After I’ve had coffee of course.

Le Freak, C’est Chic

9 Sep


All I wanted to do was pick up Cocoa Puffs for my kid, but no, you think I could go to the grocery store without pain, humiliation, deception…ok, I’m getting carried away.

I had gone out for sushi Saturday night and when I woke up Sunday morning I looked like I was stung by a swarm of bees on the right side of my face. My lip was swollen, my right eye was half shut, and I had these red, blotchy spots all over my neck. Now if that doesn’t turn you on, I don’t know what will.

So you  think my kid would just suck it up and eat whatever crumbs I had left in my house, but no, I had to go and actually buy him food. I mean Jesus Christ! Throw mommy a bone god damn it. Look at me! I look like an escapee from some sort of freak show. And that’s when it hit me. This is my penance for not giving the guy who wanted to clock my period a chance, payback for not giving the bra man a shot, and the universe’s revenge for not giving the naked pooper an opportunity to meet me.

Oh god, what have I done?!

I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I needed a disguise if I was going to show my inflamed, bloated face in public. After all, I didn’t want to scare small children or get chased with flaming, pitchforks by the Suburbanites.

I dressed in my Juicy Couture sweatsuit with the hoodie and my pink, Hummer baseball hat. I actually looked kind of cute, in a Ted Kaczynski, Unibomber, kind of way.

By the time I got to the grocery store I was actually feeling better. It probably had something to do with all of the meds I had been taking for the swelling, pain, and the green ooze that was coming out of my eye, but I digress.

I thought I was actually going to make it out of the store unscathed when just as I was about to reach for those damn Cocoa Puffs I heard, “Hey, Meredith!” I tried to ignore the voice hoping it would just go away, but I heard it again, “Hey, Meredith!” It’s times like these that I really wish I had the power to make the earth open and swallow me alive. No such luck. I took a deep breath and slowly turned, trying to show the side of my face that was not blown up like a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day balloon. It was mid-turn that I realized I was about to come face to face with Mr. September, as in one of those fireman calendar guy Mr. Septembers. I used to drool over this guy years ago and in about half a second I would literally be drooling on him in aisle 4 due to my hideously, protruding eye, lip, and other facial deformities.

I tried to act sexy casual, but there really is no “acting casual” let alone sexy, when you look like Hashimoto and you’re doped up on painkillers. Mr. September couldn’t even understand a word I was saying because I sounded like Mushmouth from Fat Albert thanks to my fat lip.

People were beginning to stare so I grabbed my cereal and took off.

So kids, the moral of the story? Sugary cereals are bad, hot firemen are good, and stay away from exotic eel roll.

A Liebster Award! (And I Didn’t Even Say Freak!)

5 Sep

0025-liebsterWow! Thank you to Pucker Up Buttercup for nominating me for a Liebster Award. And here I thought I would only be playing Lotto tonight. Who knew?!

So here are the rules:

  • You must link back the person who nominated you
  • You must answer the 10 Liebster questions given to you by the nominee before you
  • You must pick 10 bloggers to be nominated for the award with under 200 followers
  • You must come up with 10 questions for your nominees to answer
  • You must go to their blogs and notify your nominees

And here are the questions that have been posed to me:

  1. What’s the most important quality you look for in a friend?

Someone who always has snacks. Anyone who eats Ring Dings and/or Yodels is a friend of mine.

  1. What would your superhero name be?

Bubbles McGee. Wait, that’s my porn name.  Can I switch?

  1. Have you ever broken someone’s heart? If so, whose?

I would have to say that more often than not, I have been the heart breakee, not the heart breaker.

  1. Is the pursuit or the capture better? Why?

The pursuit is exhausting. The capture is much more fun. Just make sure you pick a “safe word”.

  1. What do you most wish you could do over?

When I was a teenager I over plucked my eyebrows.  They have never been the same since.

  1. Is it ever okay to put raisins in cookies? Why or why not?

Of course. They are nature’s candy.

  1. What’s the last compliment you were given?

My son said I was “fancy”.  

  1. How important is the first kiss?

The first kiss is a prelude of what’s to come. If someone can’t kiss, they have no business doing anything else.

  1. What’s the best name for a turtle, and why?

Crush. It was good enough for Nemo, it’s good enough for me.

  1. What do you wish people knew about you?

That I am not always a smartass. I’m joking. Yes I am.

My 10 Liebster Award Nominees:

1.   ellipziz 

2.   The People I Have Slept With

3.   crazy smart clueless

4.   My So-Called Midlife

5.   Reflections Upon My Skin

6.   We’re All Mad Here

7.   Lisa Gets Awesome

8.   iflicks 

9.   Stupid Cupid

10. The Cupid Project

Questions for my Nominees:

1. What country, city, state, province, etc. are you from?

2. What is your biggest pet peeve?

3. InSync or Backstreet Boys?

4. What has been the most embarrassing thing that has happened to you recently?

5. If you won the lottery tomorrow, what would you do with your winnings?

6. Are you a country mouse or a city mouse? For that matter, do you even like mice?

7. If you could be an animal, what would you be? And why?

8. When people meet you what is the first thing they notice?

9. What is your favorite t.v. show?

10. What is your best quality that you would like everyone to know about you?

Beauty and the Freak

1 Sep


Tonight was girls night. No men, no bullshit, just the girls drinking and having a good time. That is, until a group of guys came along and sat down next to us. They introduced themselves and one by one we all seemingly paired off making a nice table of six.

My guy was a stock broker by day and a Victoria Secret’s rep by night. He said his name was Mark and immediately followed with, “I can guess your bra size.” I looked to my left, I looked to my right, and then I cursed the Gods above for once again dropping another nugget of goodness into my lap.

“Excuse me?” I replied. “What’s your bra size? 34-B right?” “Whoa, settle down there Playtex,” I quipped. Unfazed by my sarcastic wit, he repeated himself again, “34-B. You look like a 34-B. I’m never wrong about these things.” Whoever said chivalry was dead obviously, never met this guy.

I must profess, that as charming as Mark was, I really should have run out of that bar screaming like my hair was on fire, but my friends looked like they were having fun, so I took one for the team, took a shot of whatever alcohol I could get my hands on, and resigned myself to a really long evening.

The drinks kept coming and Quiz Master Mark kept yapping. “I can guess your favorite position. I can guess your weight. I can guess how old you are.” If it was offensive in any way, shape, or form, Mark was “guessing” like it was family game night at Milton Bradley’s house. It was like being on an endless episode of Jeopardy, but all of the categories were about me.

I can’t tell you how relieved I was when The Riddler finally asked the waitress for the check. And in the tradition of the Knights of the Chivalric Code, as Mark reached for his wallet to pay the tab, he turned to me and said, “After we have sex tonight, don’t expect me to sleep over.”

I’ll take Insolent Morons for $500, Alex.

Baum Freaka Baum Baum

28 Aug

oscar statue

I met a porn star.

Now there’s a sentence I never thought I would say. I met a porn star. Not just any porn star, but a porn star who has won awards.

The porn industry holds an awards ceremony called the AVN Awards. They are similar to the Academy Awards, but give new meaning to Seth MacFarlane’s 2013 opening Oscar song, “We Saw Your Boobs”.

My new porn friend has won awards such as, “Best Newcomer”, “Best Actor in an Oral”, and “Best Actor in a Group Performance”. (Interpret those how you wish. I know I did.) I didn’t ask him what the ceremonial, award statues look like, but I can only imagine.

Before the ceremony there is a lavish dinner held in the nominees honor. He told me that all the porn stars walk the red carpet, yes, I said carpet, and eat chicken. I swear I did not make that up!

I was surprised to find out that my new buddy was in the middle of a divorce and is the proud papa of a 3 year old. Porn stars need love too you know.

He explained to me that he has a fan base and that he signs autograph pictures of himself just like other “celebrities”, except he’s naked, and possibly in a group, or with lots of animals. I didn’t want to know about that last part.

I have to admit that I was very intrigued. After all, I am a fellow Thespian. He was a very nice guy, and although he’s had sex with half the population of Miami Beach, Los Angeles and probably some small rural areas, I was very flattered when he asked me if I wanted to go on a date. But alas, I politely declined my porn prince.

Look, a job is a job. I just couldn’t get the image of him with a group of antelope out of my mind.


Where vanity isn't a dirty word

Audio SeXXX

Eargasms found here!


Just another site

Project Light to Life

A bucket list blog: exploring happiness, growth, and the world.


For life, real life comes through doing, not fearing.

Hi, I'm Awkward

A collection of random and awesomely awkward things to enjoy...


Movies and Celebrities

Much ado about Jess

I'm witty, sarcastic, dry, and brilliant 90% of the time. The other 10% consists of my head being full of puppies, cotton candy, gum drops, ribbon, and the occasional unicorn but I think that's okay. My name's Jess, and I've seen some shit.

ice cream magazine

................... for lovers of ice cream. Your free on line magazine for sweet frozen treats. Recipes, inspiration, artisanal ideas for your delectation.


Mister G Kids

A daily comic about real stuff little kids say in school. By Matt Gajdoš

Blessed with a Star on the Forehead

As I navigate through this life ...

NOTHING TO WEAR by fashuNinja

"Fashion can be bought. Style, one must possess." - Edna Woodman Chase

Break Room Stories

Service Industry Stories and More Since 2012

Ray Ferrer - Emotion on Canvas

** OFFICIAL Site of Artist Ray Ferrer **

Defusing Chaos

Because chaos doesn't sort itself out.

Japanese cookbook - Japanese recipes from Mari's Tokyo Kitchen

Japanese recipes from Cooking with Mari, a Japanese cooking class in Tokyo for foreigners

The Top Guitars Company

The World's Finest Custom Guitars and Basses


Travel + Lifestyle + Everything in Between

The Office Inbetweener



Learning to feed those I love the way my grandmother fed us. Eat something!

%d bloggers like this: