Tag Archives: piss-take

OMG it’s like totally a sign I need to buy new knickers…

I was just scrolling through my Facebook feed and saw a post saying “In God We Trust” and thought “…and then they vote for Trump,” which I found hilarious (my sense of humor is what it is…). Then I pressed the “New Posts” thingy in my feed and a friend of mine had just posted a photo of Forbes magazine saying “In Trump They Trust.”

So, what did that mean?

It means what I make it up to mean.

Have you ever thought about people and events, even places, as catalysts? I do. I have a hyper active mind. I see everything as a possibility to learn. I meet a guy, an emotion is sparked, I walk off and dissect it. I have a biz meeting, an idea nags me, I walk off and dissect it. I go somewhere, a thought is triggered, I walk off and dissect it. Everything sparks something. Some things are comfortable, others aren’t. I want to learn from them all so that each event leads to something better, because I’m somewhere better. That makes life exciting because it means everything takes me forward (apart from when I have a total mind-fuck that is…though that so never happens to me…like ever…erm).

However, it’s one thing seeing things as catalysts and learning from them, maybe thinking they have something to do with where you’re at on your journey, i.e. a “sign”  (because people tend to react to what we give out, meaning a lot of people in our life are a mirror to where we’re at and we only tend to open the door for people who resonate with us on some level or another – be it our wounds, or our heart), another to see them as divine guidance.

I mean what did the thing on Facebook mean? I messaged my friend to tell him about it. Maybe I needed to contact him? Maybe I am psychic? Maybe I needed to write this blog? Who knows. No one. But we can make the most of life by always believing things are signs for us to create something great. Like everything’s an opportunity to create magic. Because it is. Even that meeting that totally sucked and that date you totally fucked up.

Just moments before in my beloved Facebook feed I also saw a post that was a really weird animation (check it out at your own risk) that reminded me of how certain so-called conscious people speak to people who they wish to have a “romantic moment” with.

“Look the ocean is so powerful. And it’s so relaxing to watch it. You look tense. Come on, sit down and relax with me. You know you can relax with me, right? I appreciate you. And thank you for sitting here with me. It means a lot to me you trust me like that. (both people simultaneously look up at a bird which chirps) I just love our connection. We’re so in tune. I’m blessed to share this moment with you. Life’s perfect right now if we just let go of everything else, isn’t it? This is so relaxing. Let’s breathe together. Can you feel that? We’re like so energizing each other right now. Oh, look a dolphin! That’s a sign. We’re totally meant to share this moment. I’m so blessed to have you in my life. OMG. This is like so special. We’re totally having a moment right now.”

OK, so I’m exaggerating (kind of like Shit a New Age Girl Says which has had me laughing since 2012 or so). People sometimes throw around a lot of big empty words though and it sounds…wrong. The thing is, when people say some of these things and mean them, they really are special words. And if you see a dolphin together, you can make that a special moment. The more poetry and specialness you find together, the more likely you are to stick together (and if you’re two peas in a pod, it makes it a lot easier as you’ll find the same kind of moments special). However, the dolphin doesn’t mean you’re soulmates. You’re making that up. And the more you make that up together, the more right it’ll feel.

The issue comes when people are making things up that really don’t serve them. It really doesn’t help to make up someone is your soulmate because you saw a dolphin if the person doesn’t agree, or if you’re destroying each other’s lives.

We also generally tend to find what we’re looking for. My kids recently played “the mini game” with someone – finding mini-Coopers in the street. Now everywhere we go, they are seeing minis. Before they didn’t see a single one, because they weren’t looking for them.

What does me seeing that weird animated video mean? I am contemplating writing a script about conscious coupling and it totally added fuel to my fire (inspiration). It could be a sign. So could an article about dating conscious men that I found last week. Had I not been looking for fuel for my fire I might have missed both. They could, of course, also be divine signs I should make the movie. Or even better: that I’ll win an Oscar (it’s OK – I’ll soon find a proper sign for that. Sooner than you know it someone will say something related to the Oscars…) Who knows? I’ll choose to believe whatever makes for the juicier story…

Oh look – there’s lingerie hanging on my clothes line to dry – it’s totally a sign I need new lingerie. Totally. Divine intelligence at its best. New knickers it is! There are some dresses hanging there too – must be a sign I need new dresses as well. And bras. And a nightie!

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Image Source: https://za.pinterest.com/pin/507780926722030642/

 

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Filed under Humor, Spirituality, Thoughts, Uncategorized

#humor #sex #fitness #notforyou ???!?!?

People totally don’t have their priorities right. They do such silly things. I mean have you read the papers lately?! I understand you aren’t all like California in the soul, but listen. Before we discuss nuclear weapons, whose land you want to own next, the size of strawberries within the EU and cucumber shapes (I mean they aren’t dildos, come on. Just drop it.) and things such as who you’re gonna beat up next because your soccer team lost (they played better, they won…point of the game right there…), I think there are more important things to take into consideration. Like big butts, fat smiles and excellent boobs… So I decided to come up with some totally awesome topics for the newspapers:

1) Big Muscles. They keep talking about overweight people and too skinny people. I’m sure the overweight people are as stoked about this as the skinny people. Like what’s the point? We all want to feel good about ourselves, write about something that will make us fit i.e. move our ass and enjoy moving our ass. Like seriously. And big muscles is exactly what will move our ass. I mean who wouldn’t like to move their ass to touch those guns, or get them to get touched? Total motivation right there. Just imagine opening the papers every morning and getting inspired to look great? Totally ace. (If the papers still have issues, there’s this place called California, in which you find a town called Los Angeles and a place called Runyon Canyon. There you will find your inspiration to get fit: find a nice ass and jog behind it. Works every time. Please keep it to the Canyon though. Stalking never made anyone happy.)

2) Humor. It can totally save lives, make you live longer, avoid people getting angry and killing each other in traffic, or on the tube (with weapons resembling umbrellas) and give you brilliant abs. What’s there not to love? (The falling sales figures of Prozac. It’s alright folks – we can hire the pharmacists as humorists instead.)

3) Chocolate. Like they write about what not to eat. Boring. Come on, it’s like saying here’s a toy you ain’t gonna play with. That’s so like I’m three years old and trying to make you jealous, only it’s not. It’s like seriously boring. Instead, cheer people up. Write about chocolate and other aphrodisiacs that are also good for you. You know like cancer stopping instead of cancer starting. I mean like get your head out of the gutter and start looking at the stars – Oscar Wilde figured that one out like a hundred years ago. People get off on sex. Give them sexy food. Purrrrlease!! (If you don’t believe me, you can try my raw chocolate pudding topped with raspberry sauce and you will start believing in healthy foods in a minute. If not I’ll feed you horny goats weed.)

4) Love. People wake up – we really couldn’t care less about Richard the twenty-seventh suing the Duchess of Haughtiness during the divorce. It would only make us gloat, because it confirms our wish that even the rich have problems and gloating isn’t good for anyone. Come on, it’s like a sin in the bible or something. 2000 year old knowledge that it isn’t healthy. Doh. What we want is like the juicy stuff. The secret sex tips and romantic holidays, where true love blossoms and Hugh Hefner isn’t a sex symbol. I mean girls could cry for less, with or without our bunny ears and fluffy tails. Give us the happily ever after fairy tales with added dirty details.

5) Page Four. There’s like a page three right and although I think they totally rob womanhood of beauty nine times out of ten on this page (seriously: get decent photographers and less Photoshop), the least they could do is to add a page four where there are nice pics of real men. Orgasm whilst reading the paper wasn’t reserved for men. If women are the ones giving the orgasm – give them one too. Like hello. Equality. That was like so invented in the sixties. Did you suffer memory loss since then or what? (And no: women don’t get orgasms from vacuum cleaners, even though they come with a shaft. Just saying.)

6) Celebrity Success. Like seriously. I love dirty. Dirty is very nice. Especially during mud fights and between satin sheets at night, but that’s it. I reserve dirt to men. When it comes to the news I would like to have some good clean fun, reading about how fabulous life is. If Brangelina breaks up once a day and they’re like my fav celebrity couple, how the hell do you think I’ll feel about my dream man when he comes home from work, all nice and dirty? Like there’s no hope and I will be doomed to a crazy existence of breaking up. Not funny. If someone else says anything negative about Angelina I will seriously shoot, I mean love them into a nicer path in life. Get what I’m saying?!

7) Sex. Like hello. How else to solve problems? You have make up sex. I don’t want to hear about nuclear weapons, I want to hear about how to remove them. The best way of removing anything from a man is love, shortly followed by sex. If you miss out on the sex, he may get commitment issues and wanna hold onto mommy’s (nuclear weapon’s) hand instead of your ass.

8) Purpose. There’s like gang wars and other wars, and theft and this and that, which is insanely depressing to hear about, because life is filled with so many cool things, which people don’t discover because their teachers in school teach them how to sit still and do nothing. So purpose…this is like elementary my dear Watsons. If you don’t have something fun to occupy yourself with, you will turn to destruction. It’s basic. It’s like ancient. Give a club to a stone age man and he will smash something up. Give a karate class and he’ll learn respect by striving to become a good person and fighter. If you tell someone not to use a club, they ain’t gonna listen unless you give them something else to play with. Like get what I’m saying? If you wanna get over one man, you need to shag another….like fall in love with him enough to shag him. Please someone up above do you hear me?

9) Teach Me What To Do. This is so basic it’s below elementary. I once saw a teacher in the UK eat crisps whilst teaching her class. And they say the students should get inspired and follow the teacher? But A) they weren’t allowed to eat during class and B) crisps really aren’t gonna make your body love you back. So like if the papers are filled with things we shouldn’t do, they’ve missed the point. (Don’t do a Murdoch where you stalk people for entertainment purposes, don’t become a President and cheat on your wife with blowjobs from women who love the press, don’t steal, don’t lie, don’t, don’t, don’t…) So like what are we supposed to do? Tell me something fun so I can get inspired, get off my ass and do it. Wanna inform the world? Tell the bad news, short concise and to the point. Then get onto something useful. Like how to curl your hair and become a spiritual guru, all at the same time. It’s true you really can do both if you’re a celebrity who have an ego and a heart.

If after reading this, people mention things again that are bad for you in newspapers, without providing the solution, I’m gonna sue them for negative hypnosis and ruining my brain. No, wait, I’m not gonna sue them, that’s like negative – I’m gonna send them to a nudist community. There should be plenty of temptation to veer them off their harmful paths in life. Whoever said sinning couldn’t be a useful distraction? So long as they find love in the end I mean. See like Hollywood got something right: sell the sex scenes and provide a happy ending. Because truly boys and girls, sex doesn’t solve problems, it just awakens our appetite, relieves tension and distract people enough to give you a chance to get them out of harms way. Love is the only real solution. So wake up. Play. Make Love. And write about it in the newspapers.

Like do you see what I mean? News are like totally destructive. They make people go wham bam tits up by showing us what not to do…

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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.

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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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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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Porn movies and rattlesnakes in like California…

Disclaimer: this post contains like all the bad language, sex and total blonde generalizations that I’m known for. Just so you know. Did I mention porn? Oh, and you have to have someone read this to you in a West Coast accent, otherwise it doesn’t make sense. I’ll do it if you cast me in your movie. Just call my Manager.

It’s like so totally not like me, you know? ‘Cuz I’m like California all over. I mean we believe in solar power, organic fruits, beach bodies, sexual liberation, Entourage, positive manifestations, meditation and charitable organizations for starving Actors (usually called “bars” and donations come in the form of “tips”). So like, I’m just gonna be so not me you know for once, and be like totally like non-positive about the world, because I think there’s been too much petroleum pumped into the brains of those non-Californians out there. Know what I’m saying? Srsly. So going against The Secret (the modern-day bible of Cali) and the all loving people, I will have to say that the world is a tad mad. I’m not saying I’m not mad. Like I see myself thinking thoughts that aren’t real, but I realize they aren’t real. Just because I’m scared of snakes doesn’t mean that the rattlesnakes will be in the bushes just as I jog by. I still jog as if they were in the bushes though, just to be sure. And I try to not wear too short shorts whilst jogging, as I could have men running behind me then, scaring the snakes. But maybe I could wear the shorts and still be OK, if there aren’t any snakes that day. See what I’m saying? Like I’m reacting to something that isn’t real, but it could be real. Reality is a bit screwed up. But most things can be fixed with a big smile. Fakeness goes a long way in LA. I mean positivity. That’s what it’s called. Positivity. So anyway, here’s my list. I hope you digg it and reddit and facebook, like all your cool friends. Like the ones in the hills and that producer on The Hangover.

  • People are still throwing stones at each other because they want to play in each others’ gardens (a.k.a. countries), but aren’t allowed. But hello? Where are the mommies hiding? They should like bake cakes for each other instead. This is so some 1850’s Wild Western complex.
  • People walk around feeling happy just ‘cuz they are holding a gun and can shoot the bastard who’s father’s uncle’s brother’s daughter’s niece shot someone they would be related to if they were alive, but it was 200 years ago. I mean we all had to read Romeo And Juliet in high school. Fighting doesn’t solve ANYTHING. It just leads to more people getting killed.
  • People think they have power when they have the biggest resources of things that can kill people, which is like a stone age mentality. Didn’t anyone read The Secret? It’s all about the POWER OF THOUGHT. Jeeze people.
  • People fight over who has the best product, like Cheerios v.s. Cornflakes. This is like kindergarten stuff. You should go with the healthiest one. Let the best man win. If you are trying to conquer someone who is better than you, you are simply losing anyway. You may sell more, but you are worse. Like not cool at all. Duh.
  • People are very into getting a bigger diamond to hang around their neck, whilst people are dying from starvation. No, they’re not your problem unless you gave birth to them, but it’s still twisted somehow, because everyone tells you sharing is caring. You know, all the Stars in Hollywood share their wealth. And they only borrow their diamonds. And when they feel really guilty for being rich they go into rehab.
  • It’s really weird because like everyone knows that if you are someone in LA you drive a cool car, you have cool shades and you live in a crib in the hills, like, but all these people are in AA, go to therapists and spend their time stressing about raising more money to make their movies that don’t make any money. It’s like they take the paparazzi so seriously – when they leave they get so sad they throw canned beans at them, because they no longer get on the cover of People Magazine, so they can’t sue them to pay their bills when they win.
  • People then think these people are their heroes. So they want to be in rehab too?
  • Most people can’t remember the best night of their life. I always thought that was kinda weird.
  • Smoking kills, so people really like dying. Not so much in California of course. We are too healthy, like here people do coke to save their lungs.
  • All these porn movies that suddenly get released by some angry ex lover…I mean isn’t that soooo yesterday? It was news when Paris Hilton did it, but come on? Can’t all the ex lovers just get over it? Don’t they understand they like so humiliate themselves by showing they care? If you want someone back you just get a new partner and make sure you film that sex instead. Just so they know what they’re missing.
  • I like don’t get it. Someone thinks she can manifest the ass she had at 20. http://ht.ly/3aUDz But hello. Like the whole world mis-read The Secret. You have to take inspired action too. Like build a time machine.

We’re like so enlightened here in Cali.

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