Category Archives: My ex's MAY have made me kinda bitter

Life after meth?

Posted on August 11, 2010 | 11 Comments

I made it through 8 minutes of an episode of Intervention once before I felt my stomach turn, my mouth started to water the way it does right before you blow chunks and I ran out of the room.

Yeah, *I* ran….away from my own television set.

I stood in the hallway, my heart pounding out of my chest, I couldn’t breathe, I felt like I was suffocating..I couldn’t cry, scream or even think straight..my legs felt like Jello…finally I gasped, fell to my knees and bawled like a fucking baby. Why? What the hell?! It’s just a tv show!

It’s just a tv show that I cannot watch.

It’s not a bad show that I’m aware of, I honestly only made it through 8 minutes..I’m not bashing the show….it’s just….for me…I can’t watch it.

Something similar happened tonight…anti-meth commercials are now popping up all over network television.  I felt the same crazy anger creeping up on me as I watched the commercial.  I made it through the whole commercial (yay me) but then it occurred…I cannot watch someone strung out on meth, a fragment of who and what they used to be….I cannot watch another family pull desperately at string that are already frayed, only to have their loved one take the frayed string and hang themselves with it.

It’s painful, insulting, heart breaking and makes my blood boil.

I have absolutely no patience/tolerance/sympathy for a meth addict.

For any meth addict.

The smell of a meth addict makes my fists clench in fear…and a bit of anger. The sight of a meth addict makes me sick to my stomach. The twisted and warped words that come out of their mouths makes me so bloody angry I want to punch a kitten.

I left my job at the hospital because I just couldn’t muster up the compassion to care for a meth addict. Honestly. I didn’t want to help them…that’s not like me (even on my bitchiest day I’m a helper) I figured if they wanted to smoke that fucking poison then they could tough it out till they OD’ed. Rather than adding “watch a meth addict OD” to the list of shit I did, I left.

I left my meth addicted husband, I left the job I once loved, I left my friends, I left my home….I left that town. I knew that meth would be where ever I tried to go but I figured not knowing the addicts personally would make a difference.

It hasn’t.

It’s been years since I lived the Book of Meth….it’s been years since I’ve seen a meth addict that I know personally. I refused to see my own cousin until I was certain he was clean….I’m not easily convinced either but that boy proved himself and continues to prove himself to this day.

It occurred to me tonight that it may always be this way for me…I may never be able to watch Intervention or care for an addict….I may never see a glass pipe and not get sick to my stomach, the sight of a meth addict could very well haunt me for the rest of my life.

Although I personally have never used meth (or anything outside of my beloved Mary), it still managed to leave a scar on me. He may have been the addict but he wasn’t the only one who was affected by it.  I live with his bad decisions everyday, I have the nightmares of fighting him off me, my stomach turns at the sight of a glass pipe, meth is a drug that whether you use it or not…you ARE going to feel the aftermath.

I can’t possibly be the only one in the world whose ex is a meth addict.

Where are you ladies. I want to know what it’s like for YOU.

The one who feels the burn of someone else’s addiction even after they’re gone…

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Posted in My ex's MAY have made me kinda bitter, The Book of Meth, Yes, I am the bitch you love to hate

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What color was my what?!

Posted on July 1, 2010 | 4 Comments

It was once said that I was lucky that I hadn’t been burnt so bad by love that Id completely given up.

Clearly a memo was missed.

I happen to think that having your “husband” cheat on you with not one but two crackwhores, in your own home, while you’re giving birth is the kinda burn that can leave an incredibly massive blister on your heart.   And that’s only part of the fire Ive endured with misplaced love.

Shit, I have an entire post dedicated to reasons that I WONT date, plus I revoked my own rights to date until I was 30.

Fuck that noise….Im done. Keeping my heart in my pocket bitches.

Mhhmmmm….thats what Ive said for the last 7 years.

I convinced myself ages ago that there would be no happily ever after for me, it was going to be me and the PIT until she turned 18 and leaves me to chase her dreams (not boys) thus leaving me….destined to be the old cat lady. I wasn’t super stoked about it or anything but I had accepted it.  Ill get a fat lazy cat and yell “GET OFF MY LAWN” like Clint Eastwood did in Gran Torino.

(Badass flick btw..)

My outlook on my future as a single momma changed with one question outta the PIT’s mouth.

“What color was your wedding dress momma?”

gown

Motherfuck. It hits me. This is gonna be interesting…..

My daughter LOVES weddings….she loves everything about weddings, the music, the food, the chicken dance, (most recently she learned the Macarana) but most of all….she LOVES the brides that look like princesses.

So….how the fuck am I going to explain my “wedding”?!?!?

“I didn’t have a wedding dress” I replied.

“Why? What did you wear to the church” the PIT inquired.

*Motherfuck*

“Ahhhhhhh….well, I didn’t get married in a church.” I said

“Well then how did you get married?!” she squealed as if implying that I had been lying this whole time & never actually had been married.
*Pssshhh I wish*

“There are lots of way to get married darling…lotsa places…its not always in a church. Some people get married on a beach or in the woods or something…” I said (yeah…like that’s helping dumbass)

“Did you get married on a beach?!” the PIT asked almost hopeful
*Way to bring up the beach stupid*sweetbeach

“No.” I said as I tried to come up with some way to make this sound not so obscured in her simple lil mind. Turns out…it cant be done. “I got married at the courthouse by the Justice of the Peace” I said with a hint of shame in my voice.

*What a LAMEASS story! How disappointing! She LOVES weddings and wedding stories and I don’t have SHIT to tell her.

“Why?” she asked

“Because” —–Yes that’s all I said. So I left out the “because I was knockered” part…itll come.

“Who was there?” asked the PIT with a very puzzled look on her face….the one that says “Im not buying this because shit momma”

“Auntie” I said

“That’s IT?! She screetched “Was nana there? Or Uncle?”

shockedpeople

*Hmmm well that would have been tough considering I got married on a Saturday and called my family on Sunday night all “Oh hey btw…..I got married yesterday soooooooooo get off my back”

“Just Auntie” I said “That’s all we wanted…just a small, personal ceremony, it was very nice” I said

*Amazing I know. I managed to say that without projectile vomiting. I took a lot of Xanax but I did it.

Ill continue to do it because the PIT loves to hear stories…even though this particular story sucked and its hard for me to talk about him without wanting to puke….she loves to hear stories.

I think Id be ripping her off pretty badly if I didnt at least attempt to tell her any stories….

I think Id be ripping us both off if I didnt at least try to love again…

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Posted in I rarely ever to never have anything nice to say...like right now, Journey to find....me, My ex's MAY have made me kinda bitter, So I fucked up...big fat friggin deal

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Im gonna rock the shit outta this motherhood bit…

Posted on April 13, 2010 | 1 Comment

Pushing a person outta the devil chute can really change your perspective on things.

 Parents and parenting techniques vary as much as a child and a childs behavior.

Before I birthed a child from these loins I knew everything there was about kids…the were noisy and rather “in your face all the time” which I found rather annoying.  I have a very low tolerance for pretty much anything really so I just figured I pass on the parenting bit….until of course I met the PIT. I remember before I was “momma”…I would see that kid in the grocery store throwing that awful hissy fit or the obnoxious kid at a resturant and thinking…”hmpfh if that were my kid by golly…” funny how we know everything about parenting until we actually are parents. 

conv

Now as a parent I find myself feeling clueless…stumbling thru this crazy tangled mess of a life as a mom and a single/stubborn one at that!  I find myself almost daily using a quote or two that Ive picked up and carried with me thru life and passing that onto the PIT as I try my best to teach her….do I know what Im doing, is my way the right way for all, do I think I have all the answers?

Nope. Nope and nope…..hell I dont even know the fucking questions yet let alone the answers! 

Am I gonna rock the shit outta this motherhood bit

legs-1

and raise on hell of a respectful, independant, open minded, smart, caring, compassionate and quite frankly….a mighty force to be reckoned with?

 

I’m changing the world one lil baby rockstar at a time…..my own way~

  

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Posted in Just because Im a mom does NOT mean I wont throat punch you, My ex's MAY have made me kinda bitter, NEWSFLASH: Im a bitch

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Revisiting the “dad” issue

Posted on April 7, 2010 | 20 Comments
 
I wonder......
I wonder……

     

The dad issue is usually a dead issue unless the PIT is incredibly over tired and pissed at me or just having an emotional day. Her birthday is nearing and that always pulls at the heartstrings of both of us.  She wants a “mom & dad” just as bad as I want to be able to give her that but right now….we’re just not there yet.  Someday there will be someone to fill the void that was left in both of our lives but until then….I have keep my cool and my wicked tongue….bad mouthing the donor would be teaching the PIT the wrong lesson…..I keep the slander of my ex here…..for all of you to enjoy lmao but srsly…its in the kids best intrest that I keep on a blogging!       

 
I made a choice a long time ago to not bad mouth my ex husband in front of the PIT.  This choice has left me speachless in regards to the baby daddy.  I really dont have anything nice to say about him anymore.  It takes all of my strength to muster up a memory when the PIT  asks me something related to life before I was mommy.  Dont get me wrong….I have memories of my ex, not all were bad but trying to talk about them now makes me throw up in my mouth a lil bit. (I still cant say his name without filling with rage) I bite my tongue everytime she cries for him or thinks she wants him or throws a fit cause she “misses” him.   I roll my eyes & mumble under my breath “if you only knew girly if you only knew”……  I’ve had to try and explain the dad issue without telling her that he’s a worthless meth addicted gang banger somewhere in Cali. Is there a nice way to tell her the truth? I don’t think so, at least not at the age of 7. I’ve been able to get by with “your dad is doing his own thing and we’re doing ours”. When she asks if she will ever see him I just reply “anything is possible” which technically isn’t a lie. I do know that chances are pretty good she will never meet him, it is best that way. Meth addicts have no business being parents and I terminated his parental rights after he tried to kill me more than once.  Do I like the fact that Im a single parent? Somedays I do somedays I dont… Is this what I had in mind? Um no but it is what it is and Im going to do my best to make it without losing my mind (any further). Do I want the PIT to have a dad? Of course I do…..but he’s got to EARN us both.     

shhhhh

shhhhh

  

Does not exactly telling the whole story make me a liar?    

Does it make me a bad mother?Guess it all depends who you ask.  I received a lovely email from someone who feels that I am indeed the worst mother on the planet and how dare I RIP my childs father away from her.  Apparently, someone missed a post or two…..I didn’t rip shit. I ran. Theres a difference. And if what I’m doing, raising a respectful, smart, caring, kind individual is wrong and makes me a bad mother then good.  The intriguing little creature is turning out quite nicely thanks to my bad solo parenting skills.  As far as change…I dont care.  Look, you try to kill your wife in a methbinge rage then you don’t get to be around children. Not even if you donated your DNA. Lesson to be learned here: Dont try to kill baby mama.

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Posted in and then theres this kinda shit, I like to bitch.ALOT, I rarely ever to never have anything nice to say...like right now, Just because Im a mom does NOT mean I wont throat punch you, My ex's MAY have made me kinda bitter, NEWSFLASH: Im a bitch, So I fucked up...big fat friggin deal

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She misses her what?

Posted on April 6, 2010 | 6 Comments

As I said before…terminating Mr Meths parental rights is one choice I’ve always been certain was right.  However, being right doesn’t mean there isn’t a little heartbreak here & there…….

“Momma?” she said in a quiet tone.

I turned to look at her and she had tears in her eyes…she started to bawl

“I really miss my daddy” she sobbed.  “I haven’t seen him since I was a baby and I think about him a lot” she says “I just really miss my daddy”

My heart breaks every time we do this.

6heart

I scooped her up in my arms and squeezed her tightly as she continued to cry.  As always, I started to tear up, it kills me to see her so sad and upset.  It pisses me off so fucking much to watch this little girl cry her eyes out over that worthless fuck.

I can feel it creeping back in…the anger, the hate, the pure disgust I have for that man.  How dare you break her fucking heart like this! For what fucko?! Meth!?! “ I hope you choke on the next hit you take bitch” I think to myself “I fucking hate you”.  My gut aches as I fill with anger….my heart breaks as my child cries in my arms, as her tears run down my chest one tiny shattered piece of my heart runs down with it.

tears fall

She looks up at me with teary eyes and asks “Don’t you miss daddy?”

UUMMMMMM…….FUCK!

Do I miss the man that I divorced?  The man who cheated on me in MY house while I was giving birth, the motherfucker who threatened me and tormented me with his insane ways once he discovered meth, the man who warned me to sleep with one eye open, the man that I was so terrified of that I literally slept with you next to me every night so I was sure he wasn’t going to take you from me? The man that looked at me, cold and empty, and asked “how do I know you’re not fucking wired?!”  No…..I don’t miss him one fucking bit. In fact the thought of him makes me want to vomit….the thought of him fills me with so much rage I honestly think I could rip his face off if given the opportunity.  How the hell could I miss THAT?!  I also don’t miss the person that I was when I was “married” to him.  Scared, hurt, bitter (more bitter than I currently am), depressed, hating myself…..I don’t miss any of that.  I wish I could erase all of those memories that haunt me….just wipe em out.  If I didn’t remember it so well, if I didn’t still feel a bit scared, if I wasn’t constantly looking over my shoulder…..maybe this “missing daddy” thing wouldn’t be as hard.

Yeah right….I don’t think anything could make this kinda thing any easier.

Although, thanks to a very wise and caring man, I was reminded of one simple fact that did indeed help.  I may know who he was, who he became, the things (and whores) he did…..the PIT doesn’t.  She doesn’t actually miss Mr Meth because she never knew him…..she just knows that theres a void in her life where her daddy should be….

I can be the most awesomest momma ever in the world

rockstar000

and its not going to fill that “daddy” void.

I have to accept that theres nothing I can do about that.

Missing is a natural emotion and having a dad is a natural thing so of course shes going to miss having a dad.  I cant fix that….mostly because its not broken.  Its natural….part of life….a test of my strength.

154

I may hate Mr Meth but the PIT has no idea that I do.  I intend to keep it that way.

I wont spew my hatred for that assclown on my child….thats what you’re here for.

Thank you~

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Posted in I rarely ever to never have anything nice to say...like right now, My ex's MAY have made me kinda bitter, So I fucked up...big fat friggin deal

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NEWSFLASH: I fucked up

Posted on March 30, 2010 | 3 Comments

Yeah I fucked up.

 I dealt with the consequences of my decisions; I continue to deal with them everyday of my life.

I accept responsibility and I never forget that the only person to blame is myself and my own inability to make a good decision.

 With that being said…..I think its time to move the fuck on!!

Yes, I married the meth addicted gang-banging he-whore

Yup, I let myself be trapped with an abusive alcoholic

Uh huh, I fell ass over elbows in love with someone else’s husband

Does the three strike rule apply in situations like this? Should it?!

Last year I revoked my own rights to date until I was thirty.

Well now I’m thirty….I may need an extension. Maybe…40ish….50ish?  

Or never. 

I could get another bastard cat

or two so that when the PIT abandons me chasing her dreams so I’m not too lonely…or I could drink….or I could get a hobby…nap for years?

Or perhaps I could just admit the obvious.

I am absolutely terrified that I am never going to find love that won’t ruin me

But I’m also too scared to give up ever feeling *that* giddy guts feeling ever again. 

I’m not going to give up on shit, how bout that for a change?

How about this:

my mistakes did not make me who I am today….the LESSONS I’ve learned have…they’ve made me stronger that I’d ever admit and they’ve made me wiser. 

 All that I have to do is let myself go…dream….think about what I want….what I like….be a little more selfish and patient….balance….

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Posted in Journey to find....me, Mission: Change the Mindset, My ex's MAY have made me kinda bitter, so I have a heart and feelings...tell anyone and Ill kill you, someday I'll be *normal*

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Weak and easily manipulated…the continued effort of Step 2

Posted on March 28, 2010 | 2 Comments

When a Tupac song would come on the radio, I would crank the radio and proclaim “I love this song!”

To which he (the alcoholic)  would reply “You would” with a look of disgust. 

Anytime I showed the slightest interest in anything he would piss on it. 

I learned to shut up quickly. 

I was freshly divorced with a baby, in a new city, trying to make a fresh start yet still shaken from the nasty taste the Book of Meth left behind….bitter. 

I thought that surviving that was pretty frickin amazing…I felt tough…but the foundation was still weak and easily manipulated. 

The foundation being: ME.  Weak and easily manipulated. 

Not words I generally like to associate with myself but in order to be true to myself…..I need to admit it. 

I slipped. 

I lost the upper hand and the fucker smacked me with it repeatedly. 

 Not mentioning the 3 years I spent weak and easily manipulated is not going to change what happened. 

I have to forgive myself for being weak & manipulated or I’ll never be as strong as I need to be to do anything. 

 Several weeks ago it was brought to my attention just how important it is to forgive myself…let this shit go and finally move on…if  I don’t…the lies of depression and the echo of his vicious words will always bring me to my knees. 

I wish I could say that his words only ever hurt me but I cannot.  That’s what I have the hardest time forgiving myself for….he hurt my mother and my daughter with those hateful words…he hurt the 2 people that mean the world to me and I feel like a complete & total failure for letting that happen. 

The PIT called him “dad” for most of those 3 years even though I persistently corrected her. 

Since we left, the only time she has ever mentioned him is one morning after we first moved into our own place, a couple next door was arguing loudly and the PIT heard them as we walked by. 

She looked at me with those big brown eyes and said “Mama.  I’m really glad that daddy doesn’t yell at you like that anymore” and then she smooched the back of my hand she was holding. 

That’s when it became clear to me just how much she was picking up on. 

She was very aware that this asshole had hurt me….a lot. 

To this day she doesn’t mention him at all…idk if she remembers calling him dad or not…she knows that he is not her father…she knows her father is Lao. 

 I feel like I failed my daughter by not leaving sooner…not fighting back harder….for getting trapped. 

 How do I forgive myself for that?

I thought I could maintain the upper hand and this would be a short relationship. 

 It didn’t take long for his temper to show….sober or not. 

 I knew I had to get out before it got out of hand….I never had any feelings for him. 

I thought maybe I could at first…he was nice, the PIT loved him (who knows why) and he put on a good show. 

 When fewer people were looking however, his show took a wicked turn. 

The plan was to move the PIT & myself into our own apartment as soon as I had the money saved up. 

I was walking a very thin line financially and was one false move away from losing everything I had worked to get back post Mr. Meth. 

When he drank he was a complete asshole. 

That came through in a hurry. 

Unfortunately, my finances couldn’t keep up and before I knew it he had totaled MY car with a fabulous DWI and was calling me collect from jail DEMANDING that I come pick him up IMMEDIATELY. 

Ah, ok. How am I going to do that? You totaled my car.

He did not care how I did it but he screamed at me to get it fucking done NOW. 

He screamed at me all the time, I thought I had become numb to it but looking back I see that I wasn’t numb at all…I felt every cut of every word…no I wasn’t numb…I was USED to it. 

I was used to being called a chink loving whore, a worthless bitch, slut..I was used to being reminded that I had fucked up and so basically….I deserved this.

Plus he “never hit me with a closed fist” for which I assume I was supposed to be grateful for. 

 I’m not. 

 If he would have just punched me I could have punched him back. 

He didn’t….he was much more subtle about it….he never left any visible marks. 

 By the time I was able to get my shit together and leave him I was also a firm believer that I deserved every ounces of misery I endured. 

Weak and easily manipulated…….how do I forgive myself for that?

 How do I make sure that I don’t let that happen again……without keeping them at bay or self destructing into a self loathing ball of anger screaming

 “GET AWAY FROM ME I DON’T DESERVE TO BE HAPPY”. 

How the fuck am I ever going to love again if I can’t do this?

 I need a smoke break…..fuck.

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Posted in Journey to find....me, Mission: Change the Mindset, My ex's MAY have made me kinda bitter, someday I'll be *normal*, you can blame @girlygazette for this

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Another toe into step 2

Posted on March 28, 2010 | 6 Comments

He wasn’t the one that got me to break. 

 He’s just the one that I blame for everything. 

He let me down in a major way.  I hate being let down. 

He dropped me just when I needed him the most and that just fucking hurts. 

One April he’s holding me in my father’s front yard..Bawling as we watch my father’s house burn to the ground. 

Feeling so helpless…he was there to hold me. 

That same April, a week later he held me as I bawled and bawled for hours the night my grandfather passed. 

He stayed up with me all night, listening to me reminisce, letting me cry it out….I remember laying in our bed looking up at the ceiling going on and on with the stories as he stroked my forehead the way he always did…something I had always found so comforting….something I had completely forgotten blocked out until right now…..motherfuck. 

If I close my eyes right now….I can see him…looking at me with those big brown eyes and that comforting grin that said “You’re adorable-snotty nose, puffy eyes and all-I love you” …..I used to feel so safe….loved..I also think I’m going to vomit right now…..breathe CC breathe….

He’s not the one that made me give up on love.  In fact, he’s one of the only people I am certain really did love me. 

I don’t hate myself for loving him. 

It pisses me off that he chose meth over me but I don’t need to forgive him. 

 I don’t need to forgive myself. 

We did the best that we could and he made me feel love…..maybe that’s why I get so pissed at him….why did you show me love and then rip it the fuck away from me?!  

Who knows….such is life. 

He was too weak to resist the meth. 

Weakness that falls upon him and he’ll pay for and probably does pay for….I honestly don’t know…he could be dead or in prison by now. 

I don’t know. 

 I walked away..no I ran…and I fought my ass off and I always had the upper hand with him. 

He may have been a psycho drug addict at the end but I was the crazy white bitch with a mean ass attorney and I made the final cut. 

 I ended it.

 I made sure that the drug addict he became would never come near the child that we could have loved together. 

There’s no room for meth in my child’s life. 

 He knew that and he made his choice anyway—I made my choice and I’m actually rather proud of that.

It’s not easy to terminate parental rights but it was worth every penny and sleepless night. 

You see…he’s not the one that broke me…in fact, his crazy ass made me realize just how strong I could be.  Don’t piss off a mother. 

I left him feeling victorious and strong. 

 

The one I’m having the hardest time forgiving myself for is the one I let break me….the one that somehow with hateful words, emotional abuse and straight up fucking meanness broke my strength…how did I let that happen?!

How can I forgive myself if I can’t even bring myself to go back there and look?

 I’ve just ‘not mentioned’ 3 years of my life post Mr. Meth……not mentioning it is haunting me. 

I know I have to face this one in order to ever forgive myself….FUCK.

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Posted in Journey to find....me, Mission: Change the Mindset, My ex's MAY have made me kinda bitter, so I have a heart and feelings...tell anyone and Ill kill you, someday I'll be *normal*

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*These* eyes

Posted on March 14, 2010 | 10 Comments

These eyes……that look…..that is ‘his’ look.

*His/him from this point on is the man he was BEFORE Mr Meth*

It’s creeping up on me again….the dates, the memories, the anger all still way to real for having been 8 years ago. 

I’m NOT going to crumble this year. 

I’m NOT going to relive that nightmare as the first few days in April go by….

I’m NOT going to sink into that hole where I hate myself and Mr Meth….

Im just not going to. 

If you’ve been over to The Book of Meth lately and have read my recent comments you know what Im talking about.

When I look at the PIT…her eyes….those are ‘his’ eyes….and sometimes it just hurts to see *him* in her eyes

However, when I look at the PIT grow, learn, become this unique little being…..

I see me and my greatest work in progress.

She has ‘his’ eyes.

I once loved those eyes…motherfuck….that hurt to admit.

**Like shitting a knife hurt. But there, I did it.**

I may hate who & what he became but I have to admit that I once loved him.

Even though he never deserved my love…..I did just the same.

The PIT may have ‘his’ eyes and somedays she wrinkles her face just like he would generally implying “What are you talking about woman?”

 but that girl is without a doubt, 100% her mothers daughter and truely a blessing to her mother. 

And when I get good reports from her teachers it feels damn good to look into *those*  big brown eyes,

 (‘his eyes’ yet knowing that I did this-all on my own…since day one..even when it blows goats..)

and tell her how very proud I am of her and how much I love her more and more every day.

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Posted in Journey to find....me, Mission: Change the Mindset, My ex's MAY have made me kinda bitter, someday I'll be *normal*, The Book of Meth

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I suck AT being a girl (thx for telling me abt the typo guys)

Posted on March 12, 2010 | 11 Comments
 

In case you haven’t noticed I’ve been hanging out with the badass ladies over at GirlyGazette and I’ve been trying to take the challenges that they provoke me with…..

today’s topic is Flirting….it occured to me, perhaps, I’M the challenge for the ladies at GirlyGazette. 

 I SUCK AT BEING A GIRL! 

 Shit, you ladies have your work cut out for you.

The girls gave great flirting tips today….I don’t flirt. At least well.  Or intentionally. 

Will I wear a low cut top and smoosh my boobs to get out of a speeding ticket?

 Of course. Dont be stupid. Those tickets are not pricey! 

 Technically I dont think thats flirting….thats just life with boobs.

 

Directly from the lovelys over at GG…. 

  • Wink at a cute stranger. Flirting is a great way to make you feel sexy. If  you are married or in a relationship, flirt with your significant other! You may end up getting your way later when you ask for something.

    • But if I wink they will think it’s okay to approach me. And its not.

  • Shave. Wax. Pluck. Remove excess body hair to make your skin soft and smooth.

    • No way.  Do you know the best way to keep yourself from becoming a slutnugget is to NOT shave.  Seriously, who’s putting out with furry legs?! Not me.  So even if I got super drunk one night and ‘winked’ at someone and WANTED to bone them, I wouldnt because my hairy legs are nasty….even when Im drunk.

  • Put on some sexy panties. They will make you secretly feel more flirty.

    • Ok I cannot argue that.  Sexy panties do make me feel naughty

  • Practice your “come hither” look in the mirror and then use it on someone!

    • My what?! “Come hither”?! I dont think my face makes that look…..I can give one hell of an evil eye though

  • Smile. Men find our smiles ultra sexy, even if we don’t think so highly of our own. A smile is always prettier than a frown.

    • Fuck. When they’re right they’re right.  I could *try* to smile more.

  • Curl your eyelashes then: Mascara Mascara Mascara! Instant sex kitten when you bat those suckers!

    • Am I the only one freaked out by the eyelash curler thingy?! I will not do that girls, but I do mascara them up!  The PIT’s lashes are naturally long, thick & gorgeous…snot. She’s NEVER allowed to even blink at a boy EVER.

  • Use your hips. Swivel them slightly as you walk and walk like you are queen of the runway.

    • Ya damn skippy!  I do feel like the queen of the runway and I do know how to use these hips

  • Do some Kegel exercises. It will rev up your nether regions and get you ready to flirt.

    • That does not make me want to flirt. I dont think anything with my vagina is causing this “get the fuck away from me” syndrome.  My giner is just fine! I think….hell, it may have closed up by now idk…im not using it anyways.

  • Send a flirty text or “Sext” to your lover.  (Over the age of 18) Does your phone have a camera? Use it to create a steaming hot visual Sext message! (Just make sure to erase it after in case you lose your phone.)

    • Alright this one I like and Im good at it too.  Sry, the mailing list is already full though.

      

    Moral of the story:  Listen to the girlys or you will end up as bitter & hairy as I

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    Posted in and then theres this kinda shit, I rarely ever to never have anything nice to say...like right now, My ex's MAY have made me kinda bitter, NEWSFLASH: Im a bitch, you can blame @girlygazette for this

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