NSFW

Rejected Bandages and Other Badges of Motherhood

“Bacon is my favorite long food!” At age three, my son gifted me one of my proudest mommy moments:

My child could properly categorize food, and he appreciated one of the most magical flavors in the world.

Not that I’m biased, but bacon really is the best long food. And flat food. And able-to-be-crumbled food. I’ve been known to mix it with nuts. Put it in pancakes. And create an entire dinner party menu in which every single dish—from appetizers to dessert—includes bacon.

To celebrate my son’s newfound enthusiasm for cured pork and to support his insatiable bandage habit (he goes through approximately 20,000 each week), I purchased a shit-ton of, you guessed it, bacon bandages.

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The Road to Hell Is Paved with Clowns

My friend Ashley contends that clowns are fun and joyful. I set out to prove her wrong. @foxywinepocket | humor | clowns

If you have followed my blog for any length of time, you are probably familiar with my stance on clowns. I hate them. Not a normal level of hate, mind you. I loathe everything about them. Their beady little eyes (that bore straight into your soul). Their expressive eyebrows (that signal to their hounds of hell to go in for the kill). Their pasty, white skin (that never sees the light of day because they hunt at night). Their big, red noses (that, let’s face it, probably need some sort of antibiotic ointment—I don’t even want to imagine where those noses have been).

My friend Ashley constantly teases me about my level of disdain for the painted archangels of the circus.

Ashley: How can you not like clowns? They’re so fun and happy.
Me: They’re vile and evil and full of dark, murderous plans.
Ashley: What?! They’re full of joy!
Me: They are harbingers of the apocalypse.
Ashley: You’re crazy. Clowns are wonderful. You can’t make me dislike them.
Me: CHALLENGE ACCEPTED.

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Dick Pics and Breadsticks

I recently attended a writer’s conference in Dayton, Ohio. One of the biggest perks of these type of conferences is that you get to spend time drinking networking with your online writing friends in real life. People you otherwise would not meet in-person.

I shared a hotel room with Lola Lolita, and along with Sassypiehole (just call her Sassy—that’s what I do), we attempted to drink all of the wine in the entire city of Dayton. Three days in a row. Fortunately we never passed stage 4 on the scale of drunkenness.

On the last night of the conference, in denial that my time with my friends would be coming to an end, Lola and I held sweet Charlotte hostage in our hotel room, while Quirky Chrissy ordered pizza and breadsticks and poured wine for everyone. (God bless her.)

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The Jelly Splat Heard Round the Table

No conversation is off limits--even at the dinner table. Even when my husband disagrees. @foxywinepocket | humor | periods

“My jelly fell out of my sandwich and landed on the lunch table!” My son offered during our dinner discussion of Daily Highs and Lows.

“Did it make a big splat?” I asked.

“I bet it did,” my daughter interjected. “Like the jelly that came out of my butt!”

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The Accidental Brazilian

One day, I accidentally gave myself a brazilian. Seriously. @foxywinepocket | humor

I’ve been in a bit of a haze lately. But not so hazy that I don’t keep the nethers tidy. Because pubic hair and panty liner adhesive are not friends. Now, I’m not talking over-the-top-whacko tidy. And certainly not tidy by way of ~~torture~~ waxing. But tidy nonetheless.

So I grabbed Mr. Foxy’s beard trimmer. I’ve done this before. I’m a professional.

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9 Rules of Swearing for My Children

I use profanity freely in my writing. I also swear in casual conversation. But I don’t generally curse in front of my kids. (I swear.) So naturally one might ask if I let my own kids swear… @foxywinepocket | humor | profanity

To my sweet, innocent child,

I have heard your furious whispers. I have seen your trembling hands move quickly to hide the scribbled notes. I know — you’re experimenting with some new language.

Technically, those strong words are called profanities, and they aren’t new at all. They have been around a long time.

Did you know that the Bible mentions vulgarities like “dung” and “piss?” Yep, it does. Dirty words appear all across literature. Shakespeare, D.H. Lawrence, Mark Twain, and many other famous authors employed expletives freely and deliberately.

I don’t consider swearing inherently “bad.” Hell, some British researchers published a study stating that cussing can actually relieve pain. Those smart bastards won a Nobel Peace Prize for that report. Personally, I find profanity an effective technique for anger management.
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Raisins Are the Herpes of the Baked Goods World

There’s nothing quite so orgasmic as inserting a freshly-baked homemade cookie into my mouth. My tongue delicately caresses the firm exterior. My teeth gently penetrate the crispy butter-and-brown-sugar magic shell until the confection yields to the pressure and releases its warm, oozing delights inside of me. I moan and lick my lips with intense satisfaction.

But the moment you introduce a raisin into that delectable treat? Well, you might as well have served the cookie in a used maxi pad sandwich. Because you just turned it into crap.

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Men Are Whiners When It Comes to Oral Sex

Honestly, I don't understand why men whine so much about oral sex. They seem to be getting the better end of the deal. @foxywinepocket | humor | cunnilinwha?

Apparently my post on what women really think about blowjobs offended some people. People of the penis-toting variety. It seems there are a lot of men out there who don’t like to hear that giving head is not a top priority (or a top joy) for some women.

I feel the need to reiterate that I never suggested that ladies don’t or shouldn’t give oral sex; I just said that we don’t enjoy it as much as men would like to think (or as much as porn actresses would have them believe). I would also like to point out that I encouraged people to give it as much as they want to get it.

Still, a number of men were offended that I suggested that sucking the salami is not exactly pleasant for the ladies. And some were so outraged they tried to throw in my face that going downtown on their female partners wasn’t so pleasant either.

What a bunch of fucking whiners.

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There’s No Crying in Cards Against Humanity

If you're easily offended, don't play Cards Against Humanity. That goes for more things in life too. @foxywinepocket | humor

Recently I was at a friend’s house playing my favorite game, Cards Against Humanity, with a group of friends and acquaintances. (I know, I know. I violated #1 from my own rules.) During one of the rounds, one player (an acquaintance) was upset by another player’s answer. He went on to pontificate about why the card played was so offensive and then chastised the other player for playing that card.

Most of the rest of us looked around at each other with confused expressions. I didn’t know the guy well enough to say anything, and I’m generally slow to process such responses. Eventually that guy calmed down, and the game moved on.

But here’s the thing: there’s no getting offended during Cards Against Humanity.

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Vaginal Beautification for the Rest of Us

Being the proud owner of a vagina, I have a few thoughts on some of the most popular ways to spruce up the lady garden. And seeing as though I have no filter, I love to share all of these thoughts with you. @foxywinepocket

We women are obsessed with our lady gardens. We want everything about them to be perfect. The insides and the outsides. The hair, the skin, the age, the vitality. We spend tons of time, money, and energy to present the most spectacular love canal possible to our partners.

Depending on the vaginal beautification procedure, it can be painful, expensive, and time consuming. But still, we INTENTIONALLY put ourselves through this money-sucking torture.

Having a vagina myself, I have a few thoughts on some the most popular ways to spruce up the lady bits:

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