I have only been single for about a year now after getting out of a six plus year relationship.  I would like to say I have dated two people after my break up but during my six year exclusion from the mating game the definitions have changed dramatically.  Even the word definition is a big no no to use when describing what you are doing romantically with another person. I always thought the term dating meant that you have been on at least three dates with a person and by date I mean they contact you or you contact them in order to ask if they would like to join you in a recreational activity or meal with romance being in the equation somewhere.  The only commitment involved was agreeing to be seen with the person in public. Sex was not  a given when you said you were “dating” someone but it was not out of the question either. Now apparently the exchange I just described is called “hanging out” with someone.  The term “hanging out” about eight years ago meant you just happen to be at the same location like your apartment and you watched TV, got stoned and did not go out publicly. Romance was not really a factor unless of course you were just ”hooking up”. “Hooking up” meant you knew the person, never really went out for recreational activities/meals alone together and one night after you or the both of you had too much to drink you ended up making out or going further. A mistake more or less but one that would be repeated if you found yourselves out again and drunk. The term “friend” was just like the Webster dictionary definition, platonic, no romance involved ect. The term exclusive meant you were not ready to say you were a couple but it did mean you were having sex with just that person.  Girlfriend/Boyfriend used to mean you were exclusive, shared meals/recreational activities and were a couple.  Fiancé meant you agreed to marry the person who used to be your girlfriend or boyfriend. Married meant your parents spent thousands of their dollars on a huge party for their friends and family that you had not seen in years while you and your fiancé agreed to be committed to making a life together. From the limited time I have had to ask people who have been single a few years I have gathered that the following terms are defined today like this:

One nighter=one night stand will probably never see the person again (usually a lot of shame and regret involved)

Hook up/booty call=get together after 3AM after striking out to have sex only. Leaving immediately afterwards and there is usually alcohol involved.

Friends/friends with benefits)=get together to watch TV/shoot the breeze in hopes of having sex, like their company but not enough to be seen in public with them.  Agree to cuddle afterwards/spend the night on occasion.

Hanging out=you agree to share a meal or recreational activity with the person and there is an element of romance involved. Sex is in the equation.

Dating=You feel the strong need to see and contact the person many times a day as well as sharing meals and recreational activities together , a brief but painless blood letting ceremony is involved. Exclusively having intercourse with that one person.

Boyfriend/girlfriend=You are planning on buying real estate and there is a baby on the way.

Engaged=two children later, mortgage and jewelry is involved.

Married= surgically fused to the other person forced to wear matching outfits.

I understand the lameness of labels and how they can box something in by defining it, I generally think that if you are lucky enough to find someone you really enjoy being around to let things happen the way they are supposed to, enjoy the moment. Expectation will be a factor soon enough. But when you are at a cocktail party why does the answer to “So is he your boyfriend?” have to turn into “No. I would say we are dating because for the past three months he has called me each week to ask me if I would like to go to the movies, dinner or grab a glass of wine with him but apparently dating is much more involved than I have ever knew (still not clear on what it means now)and I can’t say we’re seeing each other because that would still be like saying we are dating even though when you agree to spend time with a person you are forced to see them physically with your eyes unless you’re blind folded, which I would probably have to be committed to the person a bit more before agreeing to anything involving blind folds, I digress.  So all I can say is we agree to have meals or engage in recreational activities  and it has been more than three times with an element of romance in the equation.”

After that explanation I usually need a nap. 

Filed under: Connie's Posts, babies, cracker jacks, dating, definitions, jesus, kittens, love, Madonna, relationships, sex | Post a comment

She knew it was Friday and tonight would be her first shift as a junior security guard at the stadium. This made Kitty almost giddy.  She was the youngest girl of four children and her entire life was riddled with other people bossing her around and having to defend herself when she felt the need to tattle tell on her siblings. Even at the tender age of fifteen and a half Kitty knew she wanted to be in law enforcement once she was old enough.  She liked the idea of getting paid to boss other people around while making sure they followed the rules. Sometimes after watching an episode of Cops late at night in her bedroom, she would fasten a flash light to her belt loop and re-enact pulling over someone. She would then pretend to drive a cruiser looking for more crack addicts and prostitutes all the while talking to the pretend camera man.

Kitty was a sturdy girl, shaped almost like a box.  Her older brothers would let her play football with their friends and them as the offensive tackle when Kenny Childers, the next door neighbor, was at fat camp. She had long blonde hair she would braid into a pony tail to one side of her head, round reddish cheeks and braces. She was not into make up or boys the way the other girls were. Her high school aspirations included ROTC, head hall monitor and playing the tuba in marching band.

After Kitty put on her new junior security uniform, secured her flash light, turned on her walkie talkie and tightened her braid one last time she was ready. There was a briefing in the employees area before the show by Mr. Watson, the head of stadium security, he gave a quick what to do if people aren’t following the rules check list as well as a detailed map showing everyone where their stations would be. Kitty had the upper level stair area.  Her job was to make sure no one was standing on the stairs and that everyone was seated, she also had to check tickets of those returning from the bathrooms and concession stand. Once the concert started she was pumped and ready to take down some rule breaking offenders.  She traveled up and the down stairs in a patrolling fashion at first, she used the police lingo she had heard on Cops assuring her fellow junior security guards that everything was going well and there was no one to take down yet. After 45 minutes one of Kitty’s colleagues told her to shut the fuck up and not to use the walkie talkie unless something was wrong.  After the third act came on, Kitty noticed three women in their late twenties/thirties standing on the stairs while the show was still going on. Her heart started beating and she could feel the adrenaline surging through her veins as she raced up the stairs all the while having her flash light pointed in the direction of the offenders.  The offender check list raced through her head as she approached the three women. Kitty did her best to deepen her voice as she informed them that they were creating a fire hazard by standing on the stairs and not being seated. The brunette woman responded by letting Kitty know she felt a little faint and that she would go back to her seat after she got some air. Kitty retorted saying that, the woman and her friends needed to get back to their seats ASAP. The blonde woman asked Kitty what the big deal was while assuring her that they would return to their seats as soon as her friend felt better. Kitty could feel the blood rushing to her face as she persisted to tell the woman offenders that this was her job and she had no choice but to ask that they go back to their seat immediately. At that point the blonde woman started to laugh at Kitty asking her what was the worst that could happen if they remained there a moment longer, the two women then stared Kitty down. Kitty felt the sting of intimidation and rushed down the stairs uttering the phrase “Officer down” into her walkie talkie. Once she reached Mr. Watson at the foot of the stairs, she felt tears welling up in her eyes as she told him about the women offenders and how they refused to comply with the stadium rules.  She let him know that she felt it was in the best interest of the stadium to remove the women as they were causing what could possibly be a fire hazard.  Mr. Watson looked at the top of the stairs and let Kitty know no one was there. Kitty turned around as fast as her round middle section would allow to see that the three women were gone.  At that moment Kitty saw a ten year old boy get up from his seat and begin to stand on the stairs, she decided to nip this situation in the bud. She ran up to the boy and before he knew what hit him Kitty had him in a head lock while she guided him down stairs. Mr. Watson asked Kitty what she was doing and she let him know that she found him standing on the stairs.  The boy scared and out of breath explained that he had gotten up and stood on the stairs because he was asking his Grandma what she wanted from the concession stand. Mr. Watson looked at the out of breath bewildered boy then at Kitty, he told the boy he was sorry and he was free to ask his Grandma what she wanted and that Kitty would not be bothering him. Kitty went home that evening with her head held low.  Mr. Watson demoted her to garbage duty for the rest of the summer and took away her flash light.     

Filed under: Connie's Posts, Whores, Cops, flash lights, Madonna, security guards | Post a comment

In case you haven’t heard, the Bush administration wants to rewrite the Endangered Species Act to cut scientific review by independent experts out of the picture completely.Under the proposed new rules, dam and highway construction and other federal projects could proceed without delay if the agency in charge decides they would not harm vulnerable species.For those of you who don’t know what that means: any federal agency can just say “We’re not harming anything. Let’s tear down this forest for a new highway!” That will certainly mean the demise of many animals on the endangered list.And in case you’re interested, no vote is needed here, just a 30 day comment period and then the rules are in place.In the words of my friend Gail, this is some “deep dish bullshit.” Seriously, this is one of the craziest things to come out of the Bush administration in years. Our own national symbol, the bald eagle would almost certainly be extinct if not for the Endangered Species Act.But fuck it!  I guess we need more highways and bridges after all. 

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Lola I started dating this amazing girl about two weeks ago. She is everything a guy could ask for except for one thing. We had sex for the first time last week and it was great but every time I have gone down on her since, she farts. At first I ignored it but now I’m starting to get grossed out. Is there a way you can bring that up without hurting someone’s feelings? -Tony   Tony    No.  There isn’t.    Alright, if your girlfriend is so amazing why is she farting in your face? My question is: “Does she say excuse me?” I could say so many things right now but I won’t. I know this is awkward at best, so you are right to be cautious.   First off, you have to say something. That is the kind of thing that makes you want to never eat pussy again. You simply sit her down and say…   OK. There is no easy way to say it. You’re kind of fucked. Basically you will offend this girl no matter what. But apparently she didn’t mind if she farted in your face…repeatedly. So…you have to just pony up and tell her to try to control her asshole while you’re munching the carpet.   It gives me the willies just thinking about it. I wish I had better advice for you but if I were in your shoes, I would have soaked the bitch in gas and set her on fire.  Purge that disgusting memory with fire.     That or talk to her about it like an adult.   I like fire better.

Filed under: Ask Lolo Falanna, cocksandwich, Cunnilingus, eating pussy, farting, pussy | Post a comment

Lola

I have been dating a 25 year old man who I think is gay. We have never had sex. He loves mani-pedies and he has the best taste in home decor. The problem is that he is soooo much fun. He is a very funny guy and we always have a great time when we go out. He keeps asking me out. What should I do?
-Confused

Confused

It sounds like you two have a friendship already. Be open and one way or another it will work out. But don’t hold yourself back because you’re too chicken shit to ask for the truth. It will set you free. Best of luck.

Filed under: Ask Lolo Falanna, advice column, boyfriend, cock, cocksandwich, gay, gay boyfriend, pussy, sex | Post a comment

Come on people! What is the New York district attorney trying to prove by asking Mary Kate Olsen to testify about her knowledge about the drugs that ultimately killed Heath Ledger? Everyone knows that an ape can’t logically say anything of value in a court of law.

To my knowledge, and this is just hearsay, Heath would buy her bananas and clean her cage. That’s all. To think that she would or could buy drugs is preposterous.

This all sounds suspiciously like Paris Hilton payed someone off in the DA’s office to make poor Mary Kate look bad.

It all smacks of racism…if you consider the Rhesus monkey to be another race. At the very least it’s bigotry and I for one am tired of this shit in our culture.

If this is the doing of Paris Hilton, she should be ashamed of herself. She of all people should know what it feels like to be shunned by “normal” people. Have you seen the size of her feet? Let’s just say that if she was covered with hair, she would have been put on display in the San Diego Zoo and labeled as Sasquatch years ago.

But maybe that’s it! maybe Paris actually is a sasquatch and doesn’t want to share the spot light with any other simians whatsoever.

Now that that’s solved, what’s going on with Mischa Barton?

Filed under: Can I just say:, Heath Leger, Mary Kate Olsen, monkeys, Paris Hilton | Post a comment

I just read that Pam Anderson reached out to help the needy and impoverished by breast feeding Somalia. God love her. She’s got a couple kids of her own but she’s still trying to help out others.

And she’s got the “tools” to do it!

It harkens back to when Sophia Lauren breast fed Cambodia. It’s a good deed and it makes sense.

if you got big tits and don’t mind hundreds of strangers sucking on them, then do what’s right.

My grandmother was a wet nurse for the whole neighborhood. Why not feed more if you can? If my Nauna could let a half dozen Italian babies get what they needed, then why not put your tit in every hungry mouth you can?

That said, give props to Pam for sharing herself and helping others!

Filed under: Can I just say:, breast feeding, Pamela Anderson, Sophia Lauren, tits | 1 Comment

I just heard that on a recent trip to the doctors, Mary Kate Olsen was tested for ovarian cancer and when the tests came back, they found that her DNA matched with the DNA of a Rhesus Monkey!

The good news is that she was healthy. Thank God! Because I heard that if one monkey is sick, the other monkeys will kill the sick one. Ashley doesn’t look violent but now that I know she’s a monkey too, I don’t trust her.

It’s funny but I seem to remember a few years ago the twins were spotted swinging from vine to vine on a Costa Rican vacation. Everyone just assumed they were gymnasts.

Personally I don’t hold it against them. And no one else should either. As long as they don’t shit on the rug they can come and go as they please. Being a monkey just means that they’re not human. Nothing more.

I’m sure they have a skill set that sets them apart from the rest of us. That has not been determined as of yet but hey…look at Mariah Carey. She’s one talented simian if I ever saw one.

And that’s the truth!

So let’s wish the cutest monkey since Bubbles the chimp all the best. In this judgemental world, she’ll need all the luck she can get.

Just don’t feed her.

Filed under: Can I just say:, , Ashley Olsen, full house, Mariah Carey, monkey, socialite | Post a comment

I am here in Nassau in the Bahamas and it is a fucking crazy place! There is a serial killer that is targeting gay men and the papers call him the “Sissy Killer”! Can you believe that shit? I can’t. The public, the government and the local churches don’t care about people getting murdered, to the point where they celebrate the killer by using funny names and joking about it.

I don’t know. Maybe I’m just weirded out because I’m from a civilized planet called New York. We tend to find and prosecute our murderers. This island with a population of 200,000 can’t seem to find this person nor do they have any leads. Oh well…

I saw this sign out here that read “Adulterers and homosexuals shall not enter thine kingdom. Signed God.”

God actually signed it. I guess they were right after all. Fags are going to burn in Hell.

I guess the Sissy Killer is on to something.

He should run for mayor…and then pass some legislation which would let all Bahamians stab homos in the street. It could be an effective way to limit the Godless heathens from taking over the world.

A Bahamian woman who is an “expert” on the homosexual named Mattie Nottage speaks on TV about her feild of expertise.

She claims that the average lifespan of the male homo is 42 years old. They are also trying to get to our children by recruiting them into the life of sin. Another previously unknown fact is that when a gay relationship ends, one of the gay men freaks out and will kill the other and this could possibly lead to a spree of killings.

Thank God for people like Mattie Nottage. She is going to set us all straight with her diligent research.

She is a true Bahamian. God love her and the sissy killer for helping do God’s bidding.

I think I have mis-judged the Bahamas.

I want to live there.

Filed under: Can I just say:, Bahamas, church, fags, killers, Nassau, Politics, religion, serial killers | 3 Comments

For the ten people who like to visit our site and read our rantings I would like to apologize for the slow down in material. We think this might have occurred due to the alien abduction we experienced recently. I was completely unaware that anal probing on those ships is followed by tequila shots and decent guacamole. We made some new friends but we are happy to be back!

A few weeks ago I realized I needed to do some spring cleaning, get rid of stuff in my apartment that I no longer need or want. My friend, Brenda suggested I try selling some of it online to make some extra cash. My first thought was who would want this to buy this crap but she mentioned how she once sold a beat up tire online.  She works in sales and makes a living at it. For some reason sales people blow my mind because their paycheck is determined by how many people they convince to buy stuff. The thought of convincing anyone to buy or do anything terrifies me.  The only sales job I ever had was while I was in college where I sold make up in a department store. For me going to work was not to make sales, it was to see my friends, try on different colored lip stick and gossip about who was screwing who. In fact many times I found myself talking people out of buying stuff. After one woman spent forty five minutes trying on all of the lip sticks in the display case I said “Let’s really be honest here, you can’t make a decision because you probably don’t want another lipstick”. I decided to take Brenda’s advise and try the online thing because I would not have to convince anyone of anything. So I grabbed a few of the items that I thought other people might want and placed a picture of them online.  Within an hour I had several emails inquiring about some of the items. The first item I sold was a Polaroid camera, when I exchanged the camera for cash I felt a surge of adrenaline. It was fun selling my crap for money and that evening when I looked at the things in my apartment they no longer represented a place to sit, sleep or cook food on, they now were a way to make some quick cash. I went on a selling frenzy; nothing held sentimental or practical value for me anymore. When things weren’t moving fast enough or interest dropped I slashed the prices. I was a woman possessed, caught up in the high of making an easy buck. After selling my stove for 30 bucks one evening I realized my apartment looked like it had been looted. That’s when I realized I had a problem and got help. Now when I feel the urge to sell something online, I grab a bottle of wine or fresh doobie. Yes I’m drunk and stoned a lot but at least there is a couch in my home for me to pass out on. 

Filed under: Connie's Posts, Aliens, craigslist, ebay, guacamole, spring cleaning, tequila | Post a comment