Category Archives: Humor

I feel like a change…maybe I should become a lesbian???

Cover of "Sex and the City: The Movie - E...

Sex And The CITIES…

Warning: sexual, potentially funny content.

I mean, it’s like anal sex: whether you’ve done it or not you are screwed. If you have done it you are a slut, if you haven’t you are frigid. On the other hand, if you screw men, you have men trouble, but if you screw women you don’t get to screw men. Like Charlotte said in SATC – my vagina would be depressed. I mean it’s like life is this constant frustration. Unless of course you find Mr Right who gives you no problems and you get laid for the rest of your life by the greatest shag around, that keeps getting better. Naturally I don’t need men to be happy, it’s just so much easier if someone else carries the shopping for me, rubs my shoulders at night and keeps my vagina happy. And of course you could do just the sex, but that’s like saying you want one piece of chocolate, when really you want the whole bar.

And then there’s the question of what city to live in. In LA everything is totally awesome and in London nothing’s too bad, which kind of sums it up right there, apart from the fact that even though LA is awesome London has everything awesome in it. It’s like that bitch that has Mr Perfect inside her, whereas lovely gorgeous next door is shagging a somewhat alcoholic, fame obsessed nobody with too big a car and an even bigger ego.

My choice of cities feels like my choice of dream marriage: on the one hand I’d love to drive to Mexico on a bike (OK, the man driving, me on the back), get hitched in really high heels and the sexiest skimpiest dress on the planet, drink tequila all night and have my honeymoon in oblivious bliss to the world, high on chocolate, sex and chili. On the other hand I would love a fairytale wedding in France with a hundred people, or more and a honeymoon which is the deepest spiritual journey on the planet, connecting my soul with my husband’s. I always figured I could get married with the aid of tequila first and then do the proper vow once I’ve grown up enough to handle the pressure and need a bit of a lift in my every day life. I mean weddings tend to perk things up. If nothing else you can argue with your mother in law five times a day.

My choice of ideal wedding is kind of like marrying an Angelino v.s. marrying a Londoner (who’s preferably of exotic breed – you need a house in the sun and some HOT blood if you are to survive that town): with the Angelino you feel sure they will file for a divorce and make you a millionaire, whereas with a Londoner it may actually last forever. I guess it depends on what your priorities are.

Life is confusing. Like you want the bad boy and the romance and the skyscrapers and the open fields all at the same time and bohemia and luxury. Like snow and 80 degrees farenheit.

So time for a change? Well the lesbian thing is outruled by logic: I can’t take prozac for my vagina. Marriage ain’t gonna happen anytime soon, so that’s outruled too. That leaves moving cities. Well, who knows? I don’t. Maybe I should just try a new pair of shoes first? Prada, Prada… Where’s my sugar daddy when I need him??? Or at least a bad boy with a pure heart???

“The universe may not always play fair, but at least it’s got a hell of a sense of humor.” – SATC

Miranda Hobbes: If he goes up your butt, will he respect you more or respect you less? That’s the issue.
Taxi Driver: [to Carrie] No smoking in the cab.
Carrie: Sir, we’re talking up the butt. A cigarette is in order.
Samantha Jones: Front, back, who cares? A hole is a hole.
Miranda Hobbes: Can I quote you?
Samantha Jones: Don’t be so judgmental. You could use a little back door.
Charlotte: I’m not a hole.
Carrie: Honey, we know.

7e7bd95b7d149c15b55241f1f5d75dd3

There’s a reason becoming a lesbian is out ruled by logic. Or men. Like this.

Image Source: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/507780926715996033/

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Hugh Hiscock and Co…

Harry Anis worked late at the lawfirm Tittsworth & Grabbe, to avoid going home to disputes with his wife, Sue-Anne. He really liked Anne Ahl, his secretary, who would bring his lunch from Mrs Cheri Pitts’ restaurant, where the menu was created by Al Fresco and Al Dente. Harry Anis was a good lawyer, but felt threatened by the upshot, Mr Cockshott, whom also liked Anne Ahl. The owner of the firm, Mrs Bossom, tried to console him – he may be older, but he had won cases against Jack Haas, Dick Tator, Sue Yu, Anna Sasin, Rob Banks, Rich Guy, Lou Pole and Jed Dye. Mr Cockshott had only won against Eddie Bull, Corey Ander, Chris P. Bacon, Pepe Roni, Kandi Apple, Sue Flay and Brock Lee. Still, when Harry Anis felt too threatened by Cockshott, he’d go to his friends Dan Saul Knight, Kerry Oki and Brandy Anne Koch to have chat. They’d tell him to stop glaring at Anne Ahl (who was really into Mr Gene Poole) and sulk about his wife and instead go and have some fun with Fanny O’Rear, or Bonnie Beaver, at least when their buff brothers Hugh Hiscock and Dick Bender were out of town… And, by the end of the day, there was always his mother, Liv Good, who made him smile and his childhood sweetheart Mrs Ben Dover, who always did what he liked. By the end of the day, as Laura Norder always said: it was all in order in a peculiar way.

Funny names….really funny names…

Cockburn, Dick Bender, Bullcock (former teacher of mine), Bossom (someone I called today), Cocks, Dick Tator, Cockfield (don’t get lost amongst the flowers guys..), Hugh Jass (huge ass), Dick Bush (…shave…), Cheri Pitts,  Dan Saul Knight, Cockshott, Al Dente, Brandy D. Cantor, Al Fresco, Anne Al (that was a friend of mine…), Anna Sasin, Constance Noring, Brock Lee, Corey Ander (…there would have been a break-up…I intend to marry Carda Mom), Annie Howe, Butterworth, Neil Down (my darling!), Mary A. Richman, Forest Wood, Ben Down, Lou Pole, Eileen Dover (maybe I did…uh…), Bonnie Beaver, Rob Banks, Price Wright, Dinah Soares, Brandy Anne Koch, Chris P. Bacon, Corey O. Graff, (be mine..) Matt Tress, Daryl Rhea, Lily Pond, Leigh King, Levon Coates (don’t, please…), Dick Hunter (great job!), Jack Haas, Harry Anis, Kandi Apple, Harry C. Beaver (peeping Tom..), Dr. Hurt, Sue Flay, Eddie Bull (may I add chocolate darling?), Emma Royds, R. Slicker, Raynor Schein, Lewis N. Clark, I. Ball, Pierce Cox, Sue Yu, Earl Lee Riser, Pepe Roni, Kent C. Strait, Easton West,  Pierce Hart, Pat Downe (working in the airport, are we???), Oliver Sutton, Laura Norder (can I have an audition please?), Fanny O’Rear, Gene Poole (take a dive…), Harry R. M. Pitts (and btw. Pitt is cock in Swedish…Brad Pitt…), Rich Guy, Holly McRell, Raney Schauer, Kerry Oki, Paige Turner, Sy Burnette, (hey dad, here’s my new boyfriend…) Jack Goff, Jed Dye (…to know is not enough, one must do…), Justin Inch, Liv Good…
Kudos to http://www.ethanwiner.com/funnames.html

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A bad sense of humor…

WARNING: These are potentially the worst jokes and insights I’ve come up with thus far. I blame it all on Hubba Bubba. I take no responsibility for the content, your reaction to it, or anything else. Thank you.

Everyone in this town is part of AA. Not because they have a drinking problem, but because they want to date the stars.

Sex is easy, ‘cuz it lasts five minutes to five hours. Love is tricky ‘cuz it lasts a lifetime.

One has to be thankful to the people whom teaches one what one does not want, or wish to be.

Poor people make art they hope the rich people will buy.

Everyone who has found their inner babe come to LA to make the physical change for their inward transformation.

You went from a small, soft marshmallow to a Snickers Bar and I take full credit for the transformation.

Most bad men are pleasing and most good men unsatisfying.

The best networking opportunity you can find in LA is called Rehab.

In London if you ask someone how they are, they will invariably reply: not too bad. They have to come to LA to find out what “totally awesome” is all about. Where to go to find an honest answer I don’t know.

Everyone serious try to forget their sins. Everyone laughing live for theirs.

Total anarchy is when five single men and five single women are left alone on a deserted island. Total sophistication is when five married couples are left alone on a deserted island with five separated houses. All with open back doors and a lot of late nights at the office.

It used to be easy to keep a nice profile. Now you can be tagged in a hundred photos over night.

I love your sex drive honey, please know your destination.

Everyone can love a stranger. To love your own shadow is much more challenging.

The best dinner date I ever had was when the dinner was the date.

“You’re bad in bed” really means “You didn’t please me.” Selfish.

Someone once smiled at me in the tube in London. I considered calling security to report suspicious behavior.

What happens in Vegas stays on Facebook.

Charming people have a devastating effect on one’s sanity.

You’re like a Hubba Bubba chewing gum: sweet, soft, innocent and with perfect bubbles…

I so love men who speak with their crotch.

One bad experience can put you off five hundred good ones.

Love solves most things, but it’s hard to sell.

My best friend and our Greek popstar were having an argument one day. He hid her pistachios in his pocket. “Get the nuts out of your pocket!!!!!” She yelled so loudly I believe the neighbors may have gotten frightened.

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When all hell breaks out…murder with sex appeal…

Sex Appeal

Problem solving is sexy...

So you come home, bloody exhausted after a long day, longing to jump into bed and………sleep. After sitting down for five minutes though you manage to swallow down a slice of (raw) cheese and some fruit, put on your warmest clothes and…walk over to the neighbor’s to get the dog out. You are welcomed by wet kisses and paws that go everywhere they aren’t supposed to. Then you are taken for a walk (this dog has a mind of her own – you can try to walk her, but she will walk you. Or sit down on her ass and refuse to move). This time she dragged me along to a tiny little park (or empty lot of land). It was freezing cold (it actually snowed for five minutes that day!!!) and the wind was gently rustling around in the bushes. Looking up at the night sky it was beautifully lit by stars. It was like the perfect romantic moment…until a palm tree started making weird noises (I couldn’t decide whether it was the wind shaking it, or if someone was standing behind it and having a blast watching my face turning paler and paler…I naturally decided that it was the first, but a sense of…practicality, shall we say…made me consider other options…) and I decided we better go home (which I managed to pursue her Majesty to agree to).

To sum it all up – I had a wonderful walk (minus the palm tree, but that is…a minor detail). Mainly because her Majesty had been home alone all day and was super excited to see me, which made me happy. And I got to have imaginary conversations with her and pet her head for an hour. I mean surely, we all know that it helps talking to yourself???… It’s the best ever remedy for solving problems. Especially when a dog listens and clearly understands every single word (not).

My point with all this rambling…I did have one and it wasn’t the palm tree you see…

“Murder me with sex appeal”….no that’s just something I heard on the radio…

So yeah, the point….hold your breaths, please…is that when I walked to get the dog out I didn’t do it for my sake – I was ready to pass out on the couch. I did it for her sake. And as I strotted along with her on this freezing cold night I thoroughly enjoyed myself. Why? Because I wasn’t thinking about my own problems. I was focused on what was making the doggy happy.

Often we get a bit caught up in the general mess of things (a.k.a. our lives). I know what it feels like. I do it all the time. That’s why I like friends and coaches as they will look at things from a different POV (point of view) and suddenly the “problems” have been re-framed into solutions. E.g. “I’m going through a divorce, it’s really hard with the lawyers, all the memories when we first got together, all the crushed dreams…!” ….re-frame… “I am so happy I am finally free to live life on my terms again, having learnt what I did about relationships and now being so much more ready for spending time with myself and finding my ultimate mate.”

I know, I know…it’s very tempting to sit and think about “the good old days” when you were having so much fun with your now ex, or your company was making a million more a year, or your house was ten times bigger… Yet, in this moments lies all the opportunities in the world. And if you have a look around, maybe you will discover that you, at least for a day, can take a break from your problems. How? You can live for someone else for a day. You can set your worries aside and worry for them instead. You can pour all your heart and mind into their lives You can try out what it feels like thinking about something else all day long. Oftentimes I don’t understand how people have the energy to keep up all their problems. And when you look at them from the outside you see how utterly ridiculous they are as well…because often they aren’t real. And even if they are, shouldn’t the question be: what can I do right now to make the most of my life? Not sitting blaming yourself, others and the world. Shit happens. Your attitude is your own.

A lot of my problems in the past have been ego. The need to be perfect. The need for success. So for me to focus on giving, instead of what others think of me is a huge thing. I always want to help others, but often, at least in the back of my mind, I have also worried about other peoples’ opinion of me. And it has, quite frankly, ruined my life. It has taken the joy out of so many things. (This is why I should go to a karaoke night and do a solo number. Then the worry will be gone. Ahem…)

As I see it, there are about four ways to solve a problem:

1) Face the fear so that the fear disappears. Imagine the worst ever that could happen. Imagine living through that with a positive attitude. (There’s a difference between the person dying saying: “I am so thankful for the life I have had. I am so thankful for the experience I was given and for these last few days to truly enjoy my life.” And the person saying: “This is unfair. This shouldn’t be me. There’s no point to life. I’m dying anyway.” I know that’s taking it to the extreme, but when I was facing my own fear of dying, I had to do just that.)

2) Re-frame it: From problem to opportunity.

3) Solve the problem. Some problems have to be solved. Ask for help if you need it. Don’t be ashamed you have a problem. We all have problems.

4) Leave it. We all want success in a ton of different ways. Yet, success may not be what we think it is. May not make us smile, laugh and love life. Instead of wanting to become a multi-millionaire…go volunteer at the local hospital, help a friend, donate your energy to giving… Invest your time in other peoples’ problems. Maybe you will discover yours don’t exist and maybe, just maybe you will find a new meaning to life.

5) (P.S. Remember: love is all there is.)

So ya know. Next problem that comes along: murder it with sex appeal. No one can resist you when you turn it on. When those long lashes of yours come this way…and that heart of yours is turned on…who can resist love? True heartfelt love? Not I… So turn it on and turn it up. I’m gonna go hide behind the couch before you drop by here….ah right, you don’t have my address anyway, so maybe I’ll be safe for another day???…

 

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Dating…as juicy as it gets…ahem…

Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason (film)

No more fuck-wits, alcoholics, workoholics, shopoholics, couchoholics, sexoholics (too much of the good stuff..)...fruitcakes or other freaks...

You went on a first date. You thought he was hot. You’re not sure what he thought, but he talked for a loooong time. So you wait for that magical text to figure out whether he liked you or not. See if you can get a second date and maybe even a kiss??? Ohhhuuuhhooohhohoho… *blush* Of course he told you he’d love to see you again, but they always do, even the ones that you don’t want to see and whom you know don’t want to see you. You have a feeling that…well, maybe, but he didn’t have that look in his eye…he just seemed curious. So now you’re curious…

First night, right after the date. “He doesn’t want to seem eager, so he won’t thank me today. Naturally. Would potentially be freaky if he did. OTT. Might lead to me running away screaming. I was never one for the lovey dovey type. Yikes.”

Second night: “He’s playing hard to get, or he’s busy, or not interested. Wouldn’t it be easier to just find out on the spot? Whoever invented this daft dating game anyway?”

Third night: “This is it. 48 hours. The magic hour has arrived. Either he texts, or calls me, or he doesn’t care. Unless, his mother is dying, his office is on fire, he had to travel to Alaska, or his dog got kidnapped. All very unlikely.”

Fourth nigh: “Damn it, I actually liked him. Normally don’t. Even his damn perfume was tantalizing. Then again, he could turn out to be wacko. Wouldn’t be the first. Maybe I’m protected by higher powers? Or maybe he just didn’t like me? How sad. Then again, I’m not your average cup of tea. Exotic spice. Makes all the difference. Some people prefer plain Lipton though. Booooooooring. #justsaying I can’t even justify that he’d be a dork though, ‘cuz I have no fucking clue. He just seemed damn nice. Oh, well. I want to think, of course, that he’ll call during the weekend. But he won’t. Because sending a #thankyouitwasnicemeetingyou txt only takes a minute or two. He didn’t have problems writing before the date. Probably not after either. He might have lost a finger, but unlikely. He’s so not into me. Maybe it was the bit “I have no car (but I use the neighbor’s), no house (but I live in a gorgeous house with a goat, a talking parrot and an emu…no I’m not freaky), no stable job (but I’m applying for extra work as I’d prefer that to be an executive PA again…yes, I’m sane. I just don’t like paperwork.), no cash and uh…obviously no husband….I’m saving all of that for my thirties, in my twenties I’m meant to be playing. Oh yes, I have three start-up ventures that take up all my spare time and yeah, I’d squeeze you in between 12 am and 4 am…deal?” Never mind. Let’s paaaaaaaaarty. Where did I put that dress???”

(Afterthought: “If he calls me now I will have to delete this post before he gets wind of my blog and reads this.”)

(Second afterthought: “I better not show this to the date I have tomorrow either. God it’s complicated being single. One has to be so secretive of things. Then there are no more dates lined up though. Yes, let’s paaaaaarty. Does anyone have some caffeine? I think I’m falling asleep. I need to write that thing and research that and…yawn…what did I think about that marketing strategy???…uhm…let’s…yawn…party. Let’s just work a little bit more first…yawn. Maybe a nap?”)

(Third afterthought: “If any potential date reads this I’ll be single forever. Yawn.”)

“Hey, still not married yet, eh, Bridge? How’s your love life?”

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An old boyfriend in my closet…

I just remembered something…for a blonde that’s extraordinary, right?! Well, what I remembered was that I once wrote to Izzie Darling (fab blogger!!!) that I was going to tell a story about a candle, but then I never did tell the story about the candle. So hey…here we go.

An almost burnt-down lit candle on a candle ho...

Mmm...

 

I once walked into a shop in Long Beach and as any sane person would do I started sniffing the candles…because you know, they hopefully provide surprisingly nice scent. As I was sniffing along I suddenly came across a candle that smelled like…well, note this one down ladies…an old boyfriend. I can’t really explain it better than that. It smelled like a man. A man you once liked. Not a certain man…just like a man. Old boyfriend. The smell, for some non-understandable reason (men don’t make sense), was very…addictive. I wanted that candle. Badly.

So, a tad sheepishly, hoping no one could read my thoughts I took the candle to the cashier to pay. The cashier smiled, sniffed the candle and laughed. “You know, doesn’t this smell like an old boyfriend or something?” The other cashier agreed. I lost my ability to speak properly. I vaguely smiled and croaked “Really?!!” I mean you can’t possibly confess to something like that AND be the one buying the candle.

So now, clearly, as always, my confession stays safe and well hidden on the world wide web…fab place to keep secrets, don’t you think???…

(…ahh, I knew you want the brand name…it’s Archipelago Botanicals, and Côtes Du Rhône is the enchanting scent…)

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I fucked up…so screw me, or what???…

Lotta vs ice-cream

Lick that ice cream in style, eh?!!

I’m sorry to tell you, but you have fucked up. Srsly. You have. I’m certain of it. ‘Cuz I don’t know anyone who hasn’t. Branson almost ended up in jail…and Virgin is the most trusted brand in the UK today. Why? I think because he accepted that what he did was wrong, put it behind him and cracked on. It’s the people who keep blaming themselves for yesterday that get stuck. Or the ones that try to justify their failure. Sure, figure out WHY it happened. Don’t do it again. But don’t stand there telling me it was OK to do it. It wasn’t. It’s OK that you did it though. It’s OK. Take the blame. Leave it in the past. And go onto never doing it again. Don’t hold onto it and punish yourself every time you think about it. Don Miguel Ruiz says that humans have a weird idea of punishment – we don’t just punish ourselves once, we do it every time we think about something we didn’t enjoy. The experience itself wasn’t enough, we constantly revisit it in our minds and hearts. That my dears, is no goody goody. I for one am thankful Branson got his act together and his ass out of jail and went onto creating my favorite airline.

Forget about the time you dived into the ocean to impress a six pack and landed on your ass screaming in pain…no it wasn’t because of a banana peel under your foot…get a lesson in how to do it right and get on with it (make sure the instructor is good looking – after all he will be looking at your ass from several different angles as you practice). Learn it. Get good at it. Or drop the idea of diving and simply trot along the beach walk looking fab licking…an ice cream. Move forward in style. Kick some ass peeps. Let’s rock February together!!!!! :0)

Can’t get enough of this song!!!!!!! So true…

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