38 is the New.......Whore?

Lately I find myself day dreaming about Roman orgies. Frankly, it’s why I never remember to pick up my husband’s dry cleaning. The early stages of parenthood have been some of the unsexiest years of my life. I’m not gonna bore you with the multitude of ways my children earned their black belts in cockblocking. However, no one should ever hold a baby monitor to their ear while also holding a dick.

Recently, my husband and I decided our family was complete. It was touch and go for a while. My uterus was in a pissing contest with my libido but we’ve successfully replaced ourselves on Earth, and we’re done. My body can go back to being just mine. Unfortunately my 20 year old tits aren’t coming back without a central line. The irony is I have more confidence now in one saggy boob then I ever did when you could bounce a quarter off my juicy fruit ass. I’ve always heard about the sexuality of women in their late 30’s and 40’s but couldn’t really grasp the situation. I watched 80’s classics like “My Tutor” and “Class” but never understood this was older lady porn. Why do you think Vampires are so hot right now? I never gave a shit about vampires or anything vampire related until I realized they are older lady porn. I’ve even made piece with Blanche Devereaux taking it in the pooper. It used to freak me out that she was such a slut, but now, you go with your dry aged vagina!

My husband is partly to blame for this situation since he stepped up and took one for the team. He got a Vasextomy. That’s right, we have entered a BABY FREE FUCK ZONE. This is the first time I’ve truly had baby free sex. No need for pills or coils or questions like, “Did it break? Did it fall off? Is it up by my ears?” It’s like I stole Pandora ’s Box and well, fucked it.

I’m not a crazy nympho and I understand some of this is probably wrapped up with getting older. Although, I’ve always been told I look younger than I am, I need to start taking measures to ensure father time doesn’t make me take it in the face. Regardless of the reasons, I’m fully embracing this new part of my life. It’s making me remember the girl who went to Amsterdam alone and the time a stranger stopped me on the street to tell me he thought I was beautiful. In my fantasy though he sees me in a crowded room and our eyes meet. We excuse ourselves to the coat room and…

Get Out of My Dreams and into My Car

I’ve noticed a new trend lately and it’s freaking me out. People are using their dogs as air bags. These people love their pets so much they are willing to risk their life and mine so “Bingo” can experience the freedom of the open road. There has to be a law against this, right? This goes way beyond cell phones. A cell phone doesn’t step on your balls or lick your gums while you sing “Rosanna” at the top of your lungs. We don’t even let my grandmother drive, but at any given moment I can look over and see a Jack Russell Terrier going 75 down the highway. Between texting, sexting, drinking, putting on make-up, and watching television you can pretty much do anything you want in your car. There is an entire show dedicated to “pimping” your ride. I’m all for making your car more efficient especially if you install something useful, like a toilet. However, there is something unnatural about watching TV in your car. I can see the validity for sure but I’ve also felt the pain of High School Musical on the New Jersey Turnpike. Not to mention it’s not totally safe to tailgate someone to see how the movie ends.

The most heinous offense however is dangling a pair of giant veiny balls from your car or truck. Truck Nutz, as they are brilliantly called, are a rare sighting in the North East. I’ve had the pleasure of feasting my eyes on several pairs of these plastic scrotes further South. I think what people put on their cars says a lot about how they want to represent themselves to the public. Now I love balls as much as the next guy but I don’t want them on my car or my face (unless they smell like Lemon Zinger.) I bet these are the same people who knowingly open their car doors into other people’s car doors. On a side note, people who park so fucking close to a car with car seats in the back should get Chlamydia. Are we supposed to climb in Mission Impossible style with our babies under our chins?

Our forefathers never had any of these problems. I can’t imagine Pa Ingalls putting deodorant on while driving his covered wagon or Mary sexting in Braille. I do however sympathize with our ancestors because as bad as Truck Nutz are, at least they aren’t giant shit stained horse balls.