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Oh My Vulva, Why Hast Thou Forsaken Me?

By Foxy

Oh My Vulva, Why Hast Thou Forsaken Me? @foxywinepocket

I’ve been good to my female parts all of my life. I go to the doctor regularly and keep a tidy house. I’ve been in a monogamous relationship for over twenty years, and my lady garden has not received many visitors—either foreign or domestic. And because of my mother’s nightmare-inducing warnings about Toxic Shock Syndrome, I fastidiously clean “down there” and obsessively change all of my feminine hygiene products.

Recently, however, my vulva betrayed me. She allowed passage to a very unwelcome guest.

[Read more…] about Oh My Vulva, Why Hast Thou Forsaken Me?


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Filed Under: NSFW, Random, You're Welcome

I Just Want a Frakkin’ Cup of Coffee

By Foxy

I Just Want a Frakking Cup of Coffee @foxywinepocket

I’m a simple girl, with simple needs. Okay, that’s total bullshit, but my caffeine needs are simple. I like coffee, and I like a lot of it.

I’m incredibly spoiled because Mr. Foxy makes a pot of magic brew every morning, which is a good thing because when left to my own devices, shit like this happens.

Recently I had coffee with my friend Andy from Almost Coherent Parent. He’s also a writer. Only he’s a much better one than I am. And he’s super smart. (But somehow he still likes me. Hmmm, maybe he’s not so smart…)

[Read more…] about I Just Want a Frakkin’ Cup of Coffee


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Filed Under: #notwinning, #winning, Random

Are You a Shower Tyrant Too? (And Some Hot, Steamy News)

By Foxy

Are You a Shower Tyrant Too? @foxywinepocket

When I was in high school, one of my teachers declared her shower off-limits to her husband and children. She told the entire class that no one—NO ONE—was allowed in the shower with her.

The hormonally-charged (read: HORNY) teenager (that would be me) stared perplexedly as she explained her radical shower stance. It wasn’t that I didn’t understand her point—that husbands and wives have different needs and must respect each other’s space. (The shower was only one example.) It was that I couldn’t comprehend not wanting to take a shower with someone.

After all, I had just been caught showering with my boyfriend at summer camp.

[Read more…] about Are You a Shower Tyrant Too? (And Some Hot, Steamy News)


Follow Foxy Wine Pocket on Facebook and Twitter. You can also subscribe to my blog and never miss a new post. It’s quick and easy! (That’s what she said.)

Filed Under: Books, Love & Marriage, Parenting?, Random

I’m Crafty and Shit

By Foxy

I'm Crafty and Shit

Last week I was delivering a beautiful crocheted blanket from my aunt to my mom. My friend Nicole happened to get a glimpse of what was in my bag, and she gave me a very perplexed look.

“You didn’t make that, did you?” she challenged.

“No, I’m just the delivery service,” I admitted.

“’Cuz I was gonna say—you don’t strike me as the crocheting type. Or really the crafty type at all,” she continued.

I had to stop her right there. “Now stop right there,” I ordered. “I’m crafty and shit.”

“No way. I don’t believe you.”

“I make tons of crafty shit.”

“Name one project you’ve made. And a vase filled with wine corks doesn’t count.”

Crap. She had me. I had to think for a bit. I had to go waaay back. “In college, I made a sculpture with melted wax. It was mixed media. And very avant-guarde.”

“You’re lying.”

“Am not.”

“Picture or it didn’t happen.”

So, later that day, I sent her the following picture with the words, “In your face, bitch.”

I might have been going through an angry phase. Pinterest instructions forthcoming.

Yes, that’s a knife. I might have been going through an angry phase. (Pinterest instructions coming soon.)

Later that night, I started to really think about my crafty side. And I put together a mental list of the artsy and crafty shit I’ve done. I mean, I’m not going to start my own DIY Show (unless it’s about making drinks), and I’m probably not going to make any non-sarcastic craft boards on Pinterest any time soon. But I’m crafty. I’m handy. I can do shit.

And I’ve got the data to support those statements.

Household Décor: I designed this arrangement myself. And color coordinated it. And used a drill to install it without any help from anyone.

Go buy one now (link). It's okay. I'll wait.

Go buy one now. It’s okay. I’ll wait.

Christmas Décor: Hey. It took a lot of measuring and cutting and shit to get that dental floss the right length. And, again, it’s color coordinated.

Red 5 standing by (for Christmas dinner).

Red 5 standing by (for Christmas dinner).

Wall Décor:  I tried to hang a picture. Okay, this may be a non-example. But I patched that up and rehung the picture ALL BY MYSELF. And now you can’t even see the hole. (That’s what she said.)

My house is old. Lath and plaster sucks.

My house is old. Lath and plaster sucks.

Recycled Art: What do YOU do with the fur that comes out of your dog after a grooming session? I make beautiful dog fur art, of course. Best thing about this art piece? It’s interactive and can be made into any shape. And then vacuumed up.

Yeah, I'm gagging a little too.

Yeah, I’m gagging a little too.

Ink Drawings: Look at this beautiful artwork. I sent it to my graphic designer, and it inspired her to design my beautiful header graphic at the top of this blog. Clearly, she couldn’t have done it without me. Clearly.

How I'm not a famous artist by now, I'll never know.

How I’m not a famous artist by now, I’ll never know.

Food Crafts: You saw these right? (Now I’m adding Pastry Chef to my resume.) The first craft was almost too pretty to eat. But I ate it anyways. Times five.

Girl Scout Cookie

Trefoil + salted chocolate caramel = I’m a fucking genius.

I didn’t make this cake, but I made the beautiful, inspired cake-top decorations.

By my calculations, I stopped being a "good" mom when my oldest turned 10.

By my calculations, I stopped being a “good” mom when my oldest turned 6.

Body Art: One night, I noticed an interesting constellation of freckles. So, of course, I had to connect them. OF COURSE I DID.

[need caption]

My husband said that this art belonged on my forehead.

Gratuitous Cork Collection: I threw this one in just for Nicole. Look at this beautiful collection. And the bow perfectly compliments the corks.

Okay, I didn’t actually attach that bow; my freighbor did.

Okay, I didn’t actually attach that bow; my freighbor did.

See how crafty I am? I mean, do I really need to present any more evidence? I think not. In fact, I rest my case. Now I’m off to try painting with wine (the wine is recycled from a spill on the table).


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Filed Under: Random

Fuck St. Patrick’s Day

By Foxy

Homemade shamrock-shaped, multi-layered, green-goo-filled cupcakes? Bell pepper stamps? Clay pot leprechauns? Homemade Blarney stones? Really?

I mean, I love the Irish as much as the next person. Heck, I even married an Irishman. But this holiday has gotten completely out of hand. Can’t we all just agree to drink some Guinness and pinch whomever is not wearing green and be done with it? Because, on top of all the other crap I have to do today, that’s about all I can handle.

And it’s Monday, dammit. I’m tired.

So if you’ve memorized “100 St. Patrick’s Day Traditions, Crafts, and Treats” and are making elaborate St. Patrick’s-themed crafts and eco-friendly, green-colored, shamrock-shaped snacks, I’m not sure we can be friends. Because—and I ask this with all sincerity—who has time for that shit?

Possibly I’ll compromise by serving Lucky Charms (all meals) and putting some green food coloring in the milk and the toilet. (Leprechauns pee green, you know.)

But then I’m going straight to the Guinness. Care to join me?


Follow Foxy Wine Pocket on Facebook and Twitter. You can also subscribe to my blog and never miss a new post. It’s quick and easy! (That’s what she said.)

Filed Under: Random

The Barbie Apocalypse

By Foxy

We’re doing some de-cluttering in the house, and Erin has finally decided to get rid of all of her Barbie. I was thrilled to hear the news, but then I walked in on this:

Barbies

Quick! Shoot them before they eat your face off.

I was really tempted to get out an ice pick and stab each one in the head before igniting the whole pile of corpses on fire. But then I remembered these evil dolls might just make some other little girl happy. Or give the girls body issues before eating them. Whatever. At least they’re not in my house.


Follow Foxy Wine Pocket on Facebook and Twitter. You can also subscribe to my blog and never miss a new post. It’s quick and easy! (That’s what she said.)

Filed Under: Random

Anosmia Says What?

By Foxy

I have anosmia. What? You’ve never heard of it? Read about it here. On second thought, don’t do that. If you’re like me, you’ll get so distracted by Wikipedia that you never come back to my blog. So I’ll just tell you: anosmia is the loss of the sense of smell. I don’t have temporary anosmia like some people get with a cold or sinus infection. No, my anosmia is permanent. My sense of smell is completely gone forever; it left me shortly after Colin was born and is never coming back.

Mostly having anosmia stinks. (Ha. See what I did there?) I can’t smell any flowers or freshly bathed skin or bacon frying in the pan. And it’s compromised my sense of taste. It’s been muted. I can taste sweet, sour, and salty, but I can’t taste subtleties. My best example of this is when Dan and I were out to eat at an Italian place. It was the dessert course, and Dan ordered lavender gelato:

Dan: “Wow. This is amazing. It’s creamy, sweet, and tastes like the garden.”

Me: “Huh. Tastes like McDonalds soft serve flavor to me.”

Fortunately for me, there are many flavors I can still taste: red wine, chocolate, salted caramel, anything spicy, BACON. So, the basic food groups.

There are definitely things I don’t miss about having a sense of smell:

  • The irresistible urge to take out a whole line of customers and make out with an entire box of Cinnabon.
  • The smell of vomit. I mean, I have kids. And a dog. Vomit comes around at least once a month. It’s a lot easier to clean when you can’t smell it.
  • The smell of dog shit. Again, I have a dog. And he farts a lot. I don’t smell any of it. At all.
  • The smell of rotten produce in the vegetable graveyard in my fridge.

And then there are things about anosmia that I kinda, sorta love:

  • “Huh? No, I didn’t fart. Why, does it smell like one? Must have been Colin.”
  • Grossing people out with stories of disgusting tasks I’ve done completely unaffected by horrid smells.
  • “Dan, smell this (shoving a questionable food item in his face). Is this bad?”

So how did I lose it? Well, it wasn’t a broken nose, or a nose job, or anything exciting like that. Nearest the ENT can tell, I lost it due to nerve damage from a really bad sinus infection. While this may sound boring, they also ruled out (via cat scans and MRIs with and without contrast): a brain tumor, early onset of Parkinson’s disease, and Multiple Sclerosis. So honestly, I think I’ll take it.

If you think about it, it’s like I have a super power. I am… Anosmia Woman.

Now I just have to figure out how to turn this into something amazing—besides being oblivious to my own armpit stink. I’m thinking back to the (really old) Adventures of Superman TV series. I could totally have my own television show. Except I’d have to redo the opening (which you know I did):

“The Adventures of Anosmia Woman”

Announcer: Faster than a fresh dog fart! More powerful than the stench of rotten eggs! Able to clean vomit in a single swipe!

Bystanders: “Look there in the bathroom! It’s a robot! It’s a zombie! It’s Anosmia Woman!”

Announcer: “Yes, it’s Anosmia Woman, strange mom from another planet who came to Earth with powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal women. Anosmia Woman, who can withstand the smell of freshly baked goodies, clean putrid messes with her bare hands; and who, disguised as Kelly Fox, ill-mannered writer for a great metropolitan blog, fights a never ending battle for clean toilets, fresh air, and the American way.”

Announcer: “And now, another episode in the exciting Adventures of Anosmia Woman.”

…

I totally need my own superhero cape.

Photo by: Wikimedia

“Nose” by Jeremie63 (Own work) is licensed by GFDL or CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons


Follow Foxy Wine Pocket on Facebook and Twitter. You can also subscribe to my blog and never miss a new post. It’s quick and easy! (That’s what she said.)

Filed Under: Random

This Just In… My Unconscious Is Showing

By Foxy

Last night I had a crazy dream in which I was drinking a shit-ton of vodka and directing a very bizarre musical variety show with zombies and gremlins.

Well, one part of the dream was crazy anyway.


Follow Foxy Wine Pocket on Facebook and Twitter. You can also subscribe to my blog and never miss a new post. It’s quick and easy! (That’s what she said.)

Filed Under: Random

Don’t Read This If You Hate Porn

By Foxy

Hypothetically speaking, what do you do with reject porn? The stuff you find, you know, hypothetically unwatchable? I mean, you can’t (hypothetically) sell it on eBay. Well, I guess you could, but, ewww, gross. I wouldn’t (hypothetically) buy porn off of eBay. And I wouldn’t want my seller’s reviews to reflect a porn sale.

Do you (hypothetically) give it away on Craig’s List or freecycle.org?  I sure don’t want to meet the person who trolls those sites for giveaway porn. And I sure the fuck don’t want them to meet me. Donate it to charity? Hmmm, that’s one fine gesture of Goodwill. But I don’t think I’d take that tax write-off.

Fuck if I know. So I just threw it away. Hypothetically.


Follow Foxy Wine Pocket on Facebook and Twitter. You can also subscribe to my blog and never miss a new post. It’s quick and easy! (That’s what she said.)

Filed Under: NSFW, Random

Sorrow Bacon Is an Oxymoron

By Foxy

I was recently doing some research for a friend. Kinda random research on obscure German phrases. It’s a long story, really, but during this research I came across a few German phrases that I simply adore. I can’t actually pronounce the words (though I try—mostly when drinking), but I’m in love with the meanings.

  • Drachenfutter. A gift that will, literally, feed the dragon. Let’s say you’re a guy and you pissed your wife off. I mean, it’s not that hard to do. You *are* a guy after all. Give her a fabulous gift (something sparkly perhaps?), and it will appease the dragon lady. Fabulous.
  • Fremdschamen. To be ashamed or embarrassed for someone else. Let’s say your friend does something monumentally stupid or ridiculous. Fremdschamen is that schrunchy, hurty feeling you get for her/him. Ouch.
  • Backpfeifengesicht. A face badly in need of a fist. Or a face that needs to be slapped. This one is pretty self-explanatory. And awesome. I know a few of those faces.

All of these words I get. I mean, I really understand them and embrace them. I have even started using them in my everyday conversations. (Dan’s not as amused as I am.) But I’m really having a hard time with this next word.

  • Kummerspeck. Literally means sorrow bacon. It’s that extra bulge (us Americans call it the muffin top but it doesn’t have as deep of a meaning) that you get after eating too much comfort food. Too much bacon = sorrowful bulge on your waist.

Now, I understand comfort food and muffin tops, and I understand the regret of eating too much of something bad for you. But I just can’t put “sorrow” and “bacon” together in the same word. How could I ever be sad about eating bacon? I couldn’t. That’s just impossible. I’d be sad if I got a bulge from eating too many Twinkies or something equally as horrible. But bacon isn’t like that. It’s pure deliciousness from the pig. And the pig is a magical animal.

Sorrow Bacon


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Filed Under: Random

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