Tag Archives: humor

#34: GLEE

You knew this one was coming.

Intrinsically tied with Musicals, GLEE has something for every woman. It’s like a stereotype bonanza. I’ll just list a few– you know–to get your feet wet.

  1. The outsider with inexplicable talent
  2. The really, really hot Jock with a Heart of Gold
  3. The Gay kid with a killer falsetto and fashion sense
  4. Song
  5. Dance
  6. More song
  7. Witty reparte
  8. Teen Angst

We freaking love it. Seriously. Where else can I  hear a Broadway-like rendition of “Don’t Stop Believing” AND “Bohemian Rhapsody” in one episode? I think my head exploded watching the Season 2 finale. I actually teared up. I’m a Gleek. I admit it. Bite me.

Just sayin’…

I’ve tried to figure out what it is about this show that makes most women sit down at 9pm on a Tuesday and shssssh everyone in the room, ignoring the fact that they have a DVR and this behavior is unnecessary. I’ve already mentioned that being a theater nerd, the singing gets me every time. More than that though– GLEE brings a sense of joy to the room when I’m watching it. My suddenly mediocre day seems a little shinier with a bit of song, dance and sarcasm. Plus, Brittany’s one-liners about Gay Sharks and her cat reading her diary are epic. EPIC. I quote her constantly. She is the true hero of my Tuesdays.

This show also connects with more people than the typical musical. Would you rather hear a ballad/dirge, or a rocking rendition of “Total Eclipse of the Heart”? Hmm? Ladies? I rest my case. (On that note– I heart you Bonnie Tyler. Thank you for this song, as well as “I Need a Hero”. Footloose would not be the same without your genius.)

But there’s the ‘Joy’ element again. Women of all ages watch GLEE, singing their hearts out with every song. It’s like a glorious Karaoke contest in our minds. Well, at least in my mind. You want these kids, these misfits, to succeed. You feel pain when they don’t, and joy when they do. It’s a bit sweet– like how High School could have been with a little improvisational song in the hallways. The solos by my locker would have been awesome…

Lastly, we cannot forget the genius that is Jane Lynch, AKA Sue Sylvester. Whether you like the show or not– this woman is the shit. Hilarious at every turn, she never falters. I swear she makes half of her lines up and they are all good. Why she doesn’t have her own damn show, I will never know. I often use her Will Shuster hair jokes on other people, just to see if they’ll work for me. They don’t. Why? Because I’m not motherf^&*%@* Jane Lynch, that’s why.

We can only hope that a meteorite falls on the studio that they film in. Assholes.

My husband hates GLEE. He would rather light his face on fire and dance a sexy jig at the BP station down the road than sit with me and watch it. I think most men feel this way about things that are musical related–he simply defends himself by saying that it’s contrived. I accept this fact, but I still watch it (knowing that he’s a TV snob). I just think the show should be accepted for what it is. It’s just fun. It’s not a depressing period piece, it’s not a formulaic cop-drama. Hell– it’s not a even the typical American-30-minute-shitty-sitcom like Two and a Half Men. I effing hate that show. Charlie Sheen– go fuck yourself. Seriously. John Cryer too. Eff you. And that fat kid actor in there– go outside and run. For like, 15 miles. Then, don’t eat for 4 days. That should help. How is this show still on TV? How? Tell me dammit! Good God.

I digress again. Okay, so GLEE isn’t Mad Men. I am totally aware of this. Still, it’s unique and it has spontaneous song. I love.

On that note, I leave you with this. My favorite Brittany and Sue Sylvester quotes. I defy you not to laugh.

Peace out and enjoy.

Brittany: “I’ve been here since first period. I had a cold and I took all my antibiotics at the same time, and now I can’t remember how to leave.”

Sue Sylvester: I don’t trust a man with curly hair. I can’t help but picturing birds laying sulfurous eggs in there and I find it disgusting”


#33: Sex Parties

No, not the orgy kind. Get your mind out of the gutter.

I’m talking about several girls, coming together to discuss, view and buy sex toys (and other various objects of interest). Still kinky, but not in the way you were hoping.

You Pervert.

Most commonly known as the Pure Romance parties, the whole idea is to get together, get ridiculously drunk and then talk about sex. Openly. Without inhibition. Believe it or not, it can be quite refershing to know that your best friend’s mom is just as interested in that cute little vibrator as you are. Weird, but refreshing. Why, you ask? It’s actually a pretty simple concept.

When women are growing up and developing their, well, lady parts– there is this whole idea that we are supposed to be pure, innocent– For lack of a better term– virgins— until we get married. It’s all we hear. It’s psychologically deafening. During puberty, if a girl is remotely interested in the big ‘S,’ her parents might have a coronary in front of her– simultaneously. Let’s just say, it wouldn’t be pretty. We were discouraged from discovering things about our bodies that we actually had the right to know. Ever wonder why most women don’t orgasm during the deed? Yeah– blame society. While it is a-ok for a male to strut about and get his jollies off as soon as he discovers a wayward boner, girls are not so lucky. It sometimes takes us years to undo that damage.

Enter the Pure Romance idea.

Pure genius.

Imagine your mom doing this. Hysterical.

This company actually figured out how to capitalize on our repressed sexuality. It’s a great formula: Place 15 of your closest friends in a room. Add alcohol. Add vibrators, lotions, costumes and any other items you see fit- and you have one hell a party. Even better: men can’t come. At all. (Pardon the pun) That way, we can be completely open about what we like and want. I went to one a few weeks ago. I was astonished. Sometimes I am under the assumption that I am a sexual freak. I mean–crazy stuff. But after watching women inspect vibrators as closely as they would inspect a new car– and actually discuss the merits of one over the other– it was women’s lib all over again. I wasn’t the only freak in the room. In fact, my friend’s mom might be a bigger freak than me. While disturbed at this discovery, I was still impressed at that party’s ability to get women talking. We were actually talking about what works and what doesn’t work for us. We discussed why this vibrator would work and that one wouldn’t. We joked about lotions and costumes. We considered weird items like rotating vibrators and c$#@ rings. Most importantly, we didn’t feel like complete skanks for doing so. It was awesome.

If only we had that freedom as we were developing– no man would ever resist us after all those extra years of practice!

Can you imagine something similar for men? It would be hysterical. Picture this: beer, TV and a traveling porn salesmen. I mean, why have a group or men over when you can just have a date with the computer? (That and actually watching porn in a big man-group is a creepy.)

I actually think that women are more open about their sexuality than men are in general. Maybe we are just getting it out of our system, but the things I tell my girlfriends regarding my sex life would make any man blush.

I bet you want to know what I bought, don’t you? I will say this: I spent $68 dollars and it was well worth it. Ask my husband. He’ll basically tell you to let your lady go to the sex party. She’s buying it for you anyway.


#32: Underwear

Oh yeah.

This is one thing that both men and women can agree on: The Panty. It can be sweet, cute, useful, naughty and downright sexy, all wrapped up in one little lacy package.

Women love to shop for underwear. We will spend exorbitant amounts of money on all sorts of items meant to cover our lady parts. We become zombies– unable to control our credit cards. Look at Victoria’s Secret. What the hell is Ms. Victoria’s damn secret anyway? I submit that it is her ability to make women spend stupid amounts of money on underwear that will never make us look like Heidi Klum. That’s a pretty good secret. Can someone explain that one to me? I would like to look like Ms. Klum whist wearing a lacy bra and cheeky panties, yet I fail everytime. I call false advertising there. Victoria, I’m coming for you.

Just like alcoholic goodies, a man can usually tell what he is getting into when the panties are finally revealed to him in a drunken state. You see a girl in her knickers– you see who she really is.

Let me explain:

High School hookers. They'll make GREAT mothers one day.

1. The Thong/G-String

Have I said ick yet? Either this girl is a high school/college student or she gets around the block. Ladies, these contraptions serve no purpose other than dressing up in the bedroom. Your man likes ’em? Knock them out at home! Do a little dance for your man. Let him play with them. He probably loves them. Just don’t wear them everyday. That’s gross.

Frankly, they are unsanitary.

You know how you don’t like panty lines and that’s your excuse to wear this piece of butt floss? Yeah, we figured out your secret. I bet we can also guess how old and inexperienced you are. Newsflash: We can still see the lines. And instead of mocking the lines that are visible under your inappropriate dress, we are just calling you a slut.

These are H-O-T.

2. Granny Panties

If these are your cup of tea, you are either one of 3 things:

  • Old
  • Socially retarded
  • On your period

There are no other excuses to wear this shit. What if you were in a car crash and the ambulance driver had to strip you down? What if he was hot? Think about it.

They do make your booty look fly...

3. Boy shorts/Cheeky Panties

Chicks that wear these are usually the ones boys like to hang out with– but not date until everyone is a bit older. She’s the girl-next-door type. She’s probably the friend that was a virgin the longest.

Just sayin’.

Either way, this chick is cool. Scoop her up before that gross thong-wearing bitch. She probably won’t cheat on you, she likes football and she’s a tiger in the sack. Think about it: Boy shorts are cute, sexy and still have that tomboy edge. Score.

See? Legs of a goddess.

4. Bikinis

These chicks have rocking bodies and know this. You cannot get away with these panties unless you have a smokin’ booty and great legs. I’m not sure about her personality, but look at it this way:

  • They are not thongs, which makes her cooler than those hookers
  • She’s probably a bit older and more experienced than those hookers
  • She has a great body

What do you have to lose?

They ALL go commando. Need I say more?

5. Commando

Yes. Chicks can and do go commando. Sometimes you just have to. Every chick has and probably still does at some point out of necessity.

It does solve the panty line issue most of the time.

Some chicks just prefer it.Those chicks are dirty, dirty girls and don’t care what you think.

How can you spot one of these trailblazing soldiers? It’s pretty easy. When she is wearing a form fitting dress, do you see panty lines? No? Commando. That’s it. That’s all there is to it. Easy, eh?

That’s pretty much the gist of it right there. If you are getting naked with a lady friend, you now know one of our secrets. Go forth and conquer, knowing who that woman is. All you need to do is look at her undies.


#30: Ice Skating

I discovered The Cutting Edge when I was about 12.

I was watching the end. You know the part. They are at the Olympics, they do that crazy trick-thingy and he finally tells her that he loves her. My mother found me lying on the floor, crying. I told her that I wanted someone to ice skate with me and tell me that he loves me. She clearly thought that I had an imbalance.

Thus my love for ice skating was born.

Women adore this winter sport. It’s probably the only one that gets any ratings during the dismal Winter Olympics. I mean, what’s not to love? Ice, Bach playing to the rooftops, sparkly costumes–it’s a woman’s (and a gay man’s) wet dream. I would rank this on an entertainment scale, right next to Queer Eye for The Straight Guy and the Miss America Pageant. It’s a guilty pleasure of sorts. Still, it’s one of those pleasures we are not embarrassed to be fond of and it is certainly something that we will ALWAYS make our partners watch with us. You do know that your man hates this shit, right? He’s only watching it with you because he’s hoping to get lucky. Really.

If you are a straight man and you do enjoy ice skating, for the love of humanity– don’t tell anyone. Even if you were in musical theatre and dance class in High School, that does not excuse this behavior. Stop now. (Oh, and the part about your attachment to theatre and dance? Better leave that out of your argument. Not helping your case.)

I digress.

What I have always loved about ice skating usually didn’t involve the sport itself. It was the drama behind the scenes. Specifically the drama of 1994.

Nancy Kerrigan anyone? Tonya Harding? Oksana Baiul? Let me just school you on all three of these ‘situations’ in a nutshell.

Nancy Kerrigan was the All-American girl. Pretty, cuddly and a damn good skater to boot. Her nemesis? That other skater. The butch chick. The ugly one. Tonya Harding. She was also a pretty good skater–but not as good as the pretty one. The Winter Olympics of 1994 were coming up. People said Nancy had a great chance of winning it all. So, what did Tonya do? She hired her ex-husband to hit Nancy’s knee with a steel pipe. The result? Amazing TV gold.

YouTube Excellence.

Don’t you remember? “Why me? Why anybody?” It was awesome. To be quick, Kerrigan recovered and won the Silver Medal. Harding was banned from U.S. Figure Skating for life, released a sex tape, then she became a scary butchesque-boxer. Awesome.

*On a side note, I never liked Nancy Kerrigan. If Harding hadn’t put a hit on her, somebody would have. She gives me the creeps.*

What about Ms. Oksana Baiul?

She kicked Kerrigan’s ass in the Olympics and won the Gold. She decided to celebrate a few years later by inhaling about SIX Long Island Iced Teas and driving her car off of the road. I don’t know about you, but that chick can drink. 95 pounds and six of those drinks? What a champ.

Don’t you get it? Ice skating is the bomb. What girl hasn’t imagined putting on a sequined leotard and prancing around to a classical rendition of Living on a Prayer? What red-blooded, competetive lady hasn’t dreamed of clocking her nemesis with a club, a pipe or, well, something hard?

My shoelace came untied. And my costume is amazing.

When your guy says something like “Ice Skating is so lame,” kindly remind him that you would “never mess with an ice-skater because those bitches are crazy.” When he asks you about the male skaters, just give in and agree with him.

Why? Because men skating on the ice to classical renditions of Living on a Prayer in sparkly costumes… Well, that’s just gay.

#29: Wine

wine drinkerLet me be clear right off of the bat:

Do I love wine? Yes. Does it get me schnockered? Yep. Do I know a lot about wine? Nope. Do I care? Hell no.

I just like that I look classy while drinking it.

It’s the perfect drink.

This has been the trend in recent years. More and more women who love to drink but are just tired of cheap beer or crappy Jamaican rum that tastes like a tube of Banana Boat sunscreen exploded into your rocks glass. Ick.

Yes, liquor is quicker. It is also more expensive. It can also make you look trashy. Ladies– we do not want to appear trashy. Hide that aspect of your personality at all costs. (One also must note that the beer/liquor combo can be a devastating one if not handled properly. What was it again? Beer before liquor….)How many ladies have you seen flash the bar after a few too many Chardonnays? Now go back and count the numerous instances in which the bar was flashed after Tequilla shots?

Case closed.

Look, we’ve all seen the more, well, mature ladies get frisky after the vino. My point rests with the younger crowd. That crowd is attempting to appear more mature without actually achieving that goal.

Setting all of this aside, any woman with a wine glass in hand looks cool as shit. Red or white she looks like she knows what she is doing. Hell, it could be Franzia, but if she’s owning it…well, you go girl. It’s an image thing. A lady drinking wine looks like she knows what she wants. She looks smarter. She looks successful. She looks desirable.

She looks sexy.

When I drink wine I feel inherently sexy. The way I hold the glass, the way I sip the wine, the smell of the wine…I could be rocking a sweatsuit covered in baby spit up but in my mind, I look (and smell) like Heidi Klum.

While I can’t speak for the men out there, to me, a woman slowly nursing a glass of Pinot Noir looks much sexier than that idiot in the tube top downstairs shooting Jager. She might be able to hang, she might be easy– but can she spell Jager? Ask her to try. It would be awesome. To top that off, tell her that her tube top is on backward. It’ll go on for about 20 minutes and you may see some boobies.

Wine drinking ladies are also looking for the wine drinking men. It’s the key to sexual success. Not only does wine get you ridiculously hammered, it can also result in a classy man getting lucky with a classy lady. If you are drinking wine, you are classy. If you are drinking beer, you are living on borrowed time. Keep that in mind.

classy lady

Wow. She's so classy. I want to be classy too!

For the wine virgins out there, stick with easy wines so you don’t take a sip of Cabernet and choke on it like a total retard.

Note: If I so much as catch your ass drinking some shit like White Merlot, or White Zinfandel– you are dead to me. I may not know a lot about wine but I do know you can’t be trusted.

Put down the glass. Refill with Pinot. Strike a pose. Rehearse why you are drinking that wine. Sniff wine, swirl wine, drink wine.

It’s on.

You stay classy lady wine drinkers.

#26: Fancy Drinks

scrubs-JDFancy Drinks.

It amazes me that we will starve ourselves to be thin yet we will never hesitate to down drinks in pink, green, blue, or yellow hues– doused in an unbelievable amount of sugar and calories.

Pop a piece of fruit on it and we’re there.

I used to be a bartender. I know. Drinks are an indicator of a woman’s personality. Gentleman, if you can find a woman that is down with Bourbon and a mixer, marry her. She’s a keeper. If she can’t do anything but sip on a Daquiri–she is a questionable human being at best.

And so I present, the typical Fancy Drinks women love–and what that drink says about the women that drink it.

Here it goes…



The Margarita

This is the “I don’t give a shit about myself” drink.

Loaded in salt, sugar, and some yellow/green shit, it is the ultimate party starter in any Mexican restaurant. Let’s face it, most people that order this piece of crap don’t care what kind of tequila is in it. It’s just in there. Drink up.

Between the chips, that chicken and cheese quesadilla you just scarfed down in 2.5 minutes flat and the pitcher of liquid crap you funneled, have fun with that after-effect tomorrow. Women that insist on this drink everytime they party are lonely, depressed, or downright done with caring about themselves. It’s a sad, sad drink.

I’ll drink ’em every once in awhile. I’ll say something like “I don’t give a shit! Let’s a get a pitcher! Whoo Hoo!”

I rest my case.

Carrie loves this drink...

Carrie loves this drink...


Cosmo for short bitches.

If you don’t know what this is, you have never seen Sex and the City. Therefore, you are not cool.

This is the ‘trendy drink.’ It’s pink, relativley low cal, and comes in a cute glass. A lady that orders this everytime she goes out wants to be The Shit. She must always look fashionable and appear to be fabulous. She judges every lady that walks in the door. She scoffs at the men looking in her direction. They are looking, you know. This is the drink for women that wish they lived in the city (any city) but are confined to the suburbs.

I effing love a good Cosmo.

So cute!

So cute!

Appletini (Zach Braff’s fav)

I used to make these like gangbustas when I bartended.

The Appletini is the bubbly girl’s answer to the Cosmo. “It’s sweet and sour! OMG!”  Green, sugary and without a hint of alcohol to taste, young drinkers love this one. It looks sophisticated but it actually isn’t. Awesome.

“I like mine with a cherry! Want to see me tie the stem into a knot with my tongue? I can do it! I swear!” Sound familiar?

This one is tasty. It is cute. It sneaks up on you. That’s the kind of lady that drinks this thing. Cute, bubbly and probably tasty. Either way, she’s high maintenance and will drive you nuts by the end of the night. This is the kind of girl that will meet a guy and declare that she loves him after about 5 more  glasses of this alien pee. Then she’ll cry when he leaves. She’ll also throw up when she gets home. Love her.

Have fun with that one.

Beach? check. Rum? check. Depends? check.

Beach? check. Rum? check. Depends? check.

The Daquiri/Any Frozen Drink

The old lady drink.

Picture a tropical island. Beautiful bodies on the sand, waves washing to shore. Then the middle-aged partiers show up. What are the old ladies drinking? You guessed it. Break out the rum bitches.

Look, most ladies love a good frozen, alcoholic popscicle. Delicious. They just become much more popular with age for some reason. If they aren’t drinking a frozen Margarita (see first example), bring on the Daquiri. They get drunk as crap off of these things–which amazes me because there’s hardly any alcohol in them!

Maybe it’s because rum is easy. Rum is safe. Rum is yummy. Who knows?

Word of advice–when the seniors start doing the limbo, you know it’s time to jet.

I know,  I  know. All of the drinks mentioned above are tasty. We have all consumed said drinks. There are just typical women that insist on these every single time they decide to get crazy. Break the mold! Get out of your rut! Re-invent yourself!

Just sayin’….

#25: Justin Timberlake

JTHe brought Sexy back.

He can sing, dance, write, act and improv on SNL.

He is Justin Timberlake.

Women adore him, men want to be him. He is the shit. What woman on this planet doesn’t have a tiny little crush on this man? What man doesn’t envy the fact that he is banging Jessica Biel? Bootylicious indeed. The man is like a tiny, Southern, adorable Golden God with a mean falsetto.

Justin Timberlake took what women loved about ‘Boy Bands’ and actually survived their inevitable demise in 2000. JT was a prominent member of the Boy Band 2.0’s. You know…The Backstreet Boys, 98 Degrees and N’Sync (Note: Boy band 1.0’s include NKOTB and Take That).

How did JT survive and come out on top when his bandmates didn’t fare so well? Setting aside the talent question, Mr. Timberlake reinvented himself.

justifiedFirst Phase: Justified A.K.A. F-U Britney Spears

He shaved off his cute, curly locks from his N’Sync years. I admit, I shed a few tears over this, but when he emerged with the short crop and the man-stubble, I fell in love with him all over again. Then Justified came out. Ladies, you remember. “Cry Me a River”?


That was the big F-off to the Princess of Pop and his cheating ex-girlfriend, Miss Brit Brit. Women wanted to comfort him and kill her in the same breath. Skank. Men still saluted him for tapping that before she got fat and crazy. All in all… a great start.

Second Phase: Super Bowl Sexiness

Get some.

Get some.

Justin performed at the Super Bowl. With Miss Janet. Awesome. Although halftime shows usually blow, I watched this one. About the time I got up to grab another beer and lament yet another championship for the Patriots, Janet’s booby flopped out–and Justin was the one who exposed it. It was kinda hot. I called it Titty-Gate. I’m sure there is another connotation for this event that is cleaner– but if given the choice between classy and funny, I go for humor.
You know you’re laughing.

Anyhoo, this ‘wardrobe malfunction’ was just more excuse to talk about the sexiness that was and is JT.

Step 1...

Step 1...

Third Phase: Timberlake the Actor

Like all singers, JT soon got the acting bug. The thing is, he was kind of good. Black Snake Moan was interesting. Alpha Dog had some potential. And then he did SNL in December of 2006. That was when we were all witness to the brilliance that was and still is Dick in a Box. If you have never seen said short, click here.

Oh yeah. He has gone on to do several spoofs with Andy Samberg and the cast of SNL including my personal fav, Motherlover. Geniuses.

The Trifecta of 2006-2007

The Trifecta of 2006-2007

Phase 4: Future Sex/Love Sounds–Cameron Diaz

He brought Sexy back. Women didn’t even know it was gone until we saw him strut into that club on his music video. And damn– did he bring it back! He had everyone on this album. Snoop Dog, will.i.am, and Three 6 Mafia all participated. It was amazing.

Thank you Timbaland. Thank you for working with JT and helping to nurture his true sexiness. I would thank Nelly Furtado too, but she kinda sucks.

Not only did he put an album out there that kicked ass (I still listen to it),  he did the world tour AND the HBO special. On top of that, JT started dating Cameron Diaz. Sexiness abounds.

Phase 5: Fashion, Food, Collaboration and Biel

In one short period, JT soon became a fashion icon. Hats, Skinny suits and Chucks. Delicious. He opened a few restaurants. Namely, “Southern Hospitality” in New York. He can scoop up some southern hospitality on me any damn time. JT also started collaborating. Whether is was on SNL or with Madonna, dude was everywhere. Women rejoiced.

Dayyyamn. Not fair.

Dayyyamn. Not fair.

And then there was Biel. Jessica Biel.

The ultimate woman. Tall, lean and gorgeous– she has the body of a goddess. They are beautiful together. Her ass is amazing. I mean, I want to squeeze it. I have to say that.

Justin Timberlake ladies and gentlemen. Women love this dude. I honestly don’t think that men can argue with this one. They kinda have man-crushes on him. Look at what he has! If anything, he took Brit’s virginity and has slept with Cameron Diaz and Jessica Biel. Pimp.

One final rumination– JT, I think you should do another Music Video with Andy. Instead of the Color Me Bad vibe, go for the actual Boy Band feel. Maybe get in a fight with Nick Lachey?

Just sayin’…