Holiday! Celebrate!

This is more or less what the girl Kat looks like today. I was out drinking wine with Freakishly Tall Guy until the weeeeee hours of the morning and up early for my fucktacular job. Good thing I saved half of my crap sandwich from yesterday. I cannot properly express the gratitude I am feeling that it is a three day weekend. Doc is coming to visit next week (yay!!!!!) and I am going to use this weekend to clean and work out. I want my "Madonna Thighs" I had last summer back and the flat, two pack abs. Right now, I am sporting six pack abs...just not in the traditional sense (I keep my beer in there.) I hope this weekend holds a surprise or two. If not, I have an entire week of Judge Judy's to catch up on. Win win either way. Happy Memorial Day!

My favorite color is bruise

Freakishly Tall Guy is adorable, charming, smart, funny, wine conneseur. Oh yeah, he is also a porn producer.

What goes down...well mostly stays there.

I had a date last night with Freakishly Tall Guy from the Dirty Filthy Web site. We met at Starbucks and spent an hour and a half getting to know one another. We are both sci-fi geeks, he can't have dairy (some weird blood allergy,) both not from here and seemingly equally attracted to one another. It was the best date I have been on in four years. I got in my car, and promptly started to cry. What massive train wreck is coming my way? He texted me to tell me he had a really good time and wanted to go out tonight. Consider it done.
Today at work I was sustained by a steady diet of the never-ending shit sandwich. I was talked down to, yelled at, cursed out and was basically just a punching bag for multiple people. I just had to take it as I was helpless to change the situations and the only thing I could do was let people vent. As I am trying to talk an irate (multimillion dollar) customer down, I get an IM from Freakishly Tall Guy.
FTG: listen, before getting together this evening, I wanted to let you know that I am not prepared at this time to go "exclusive"-I have a few others that I see and enjoy my experience with them and am not willing to cut it off. I am open and honest about everything but would like to maintain my current lifestyle....agreed?
What the fuck do you say to that? It wasn't like I was dancing around singing Beyonce's Single Ladies to him....I was taken aback. A few?? Ultimately, I decided that I am short one fuck buddy these days so what the hell....Most guys do it, at least he is being up front about it. I changed my FB status to:
Kat is going to put her hand in the flame despite knowing she is going to get it burned (again.)
Video Lman: Pour some lighter fluid on it. Mostly for maximum effect.
RonDiggety: The Lady GaGa-sour milk analogy is apt for quite a few things. You know it's going to be bad, but you want to smell it anyway.
Work Friend: What's the young suiter's name??
Kat: I mean that literally Work Friend. Cutting is for pussies.
So, I am about to have the last few bites of my shit sandwich and then sign my name on Freakishly Tall Guy's waiting list. I will let you know how it goes.

Why are guys such pussies?

Pigs and pussies....are there any other kind? If so, I ain't meeting them.

Mercy Married Man

Oy vey. Some guys are persist, I will give them that. This is definitely the case with the Investor Douchebag. I met him on the Dirty Filthy Web Site and started talking to him several months ago. At first, he seemed normal and cool (don't they all.) Over time, I noticed a pattern. He would only chat or call me during business hours, never on the weekend. When I would call him after hours I got a variety of excuses as to why he didn't answer; left his phone at the gym, didn't hear it ring, left it in the car etc. It doesn't take Einstein to figure out what is going on there. Married much? He was intent on proving to me that this was not the case. He wrote me incredibly long emails claiming his undying love and letting me know that I am his dream girl he has been looking for his whole life. He texted incessantly. He planned on visiting me, the date to be determined at a later date. Lots of calls. All this done, Mon-Fri, 9-5. WTF? When I called him out on his fuckery and told him to eat shit the tenor of his emails, text and voice mails changed to nasty (again, all during business hours during the week.) I thought I had finally shaken the married asshole. No such luck. When I told him to pound sand today, here is the message he sent me;

Investment Douchbag (5/17/2009 11:09:43 AM): ooooh nice bitch! sweet lil cunt mouth that you are! Funny at 40 you cant control your anger, your money, you life, your friends, or well yourself in general. MOst people with your rate of failure at least do society a favor and commit suicide.

At least I can spell and punctuate. I wonder if he kisses his wife with that potty mouth?

Big Wack Attack

Mr. MBA finally got around to watching The Wrestler and was pleasantly surprised there was some Marissa Torme boobage, and it was good. So good, he was repeatedly rubbing one out. Pausing the movie for a little recovery time, then going at it again. When I spoke to him last night, he said he was dehydrated from the marathon masturbation session and was taking a break to run to the Sev and get some Gatorade and carbs so he could continue on into the night. He was "shooting sawdust" according to him. I do love my friends and their commitment to a higher purpose.

RIP Skeptic

My fuck buddy that won't fuck me, Skeptic and I were supposed to have dinner tonight. He calls me and after some tap dancing (bailing on me, shocking!) tells me he doesn't want me to think he is flaky...he is involved with someone and has been for the entire three years we have had our hook up. He is on an "honesty kick" and felt the need to cleanse his soul. Now Filthy and Gorgeous Posse, please remember this is the guy that would try to tell me his feelings and I would say, er...don't you have friends? He would be depressed and tell me he didn't think he could get it up but if I wanted to have dinner and talk....um, I told him again, dude, you exist in my world for ONE REASON. I have friends, he has his place. I point out that he would rather I think he is a cheating, asshole liar than a flake? Interesting. Did he tell his gf/wife/whatever about me? Nope, some honesty kick. The one person he actually owes honesty to is the one ommitted from his confessional. I am so pleased he made himself feel clean by making me feel dirty.

won't you take me to...Cougartown!

As you get farther from the epicenter of Hollywood cool, the age at clubs goes up and the atmosphere goes down. This is certainly the case at the Arena Sports Bar and Grill in Simi Valley. The interior is like a poor man's TGI Fridays and the crowd, well....like a low rent cast of Real Housewives of Orange County. I was the youngest Cougar in the Cougar Bar. I went to see a band that was comprised of a bunch of my engineers from a customer. They were fantastic! Rocked the house and got all the old folks shaking their bones. I met SexualChocolate and Duke there...couple of young hottie potatties like them....they might as well have been wearing chum underpants. Insert Jaws theme song and imgaine a pack of circling Cougars. It is a miracle they weren't raped like Jodi Foster in that movie, there were pool tables there so it might have been a very accurate re-enactment.
It seems whenever we go out, we end up taking care of someone. Last time this band played, we spent the evening babysitting HottieEsq (we are no longer friends, more on that another time) when she had a seizure. That is what happens when you don't take your drugs......This time our friend was heartbroken and chose to drown her sorrows in alcohol (the cause of, and solution to all of life's problems-Homer Simpson.) She was ripshit fucked up by the time we got there at 8pm. So, here was the defining event; she had reconnected with her ex-husband via Facebook and started having a torried affair with him. He was currently married with children. In what one would suspect was a pang of guilt, he broke it off with her via email. Now I am a very pain-adverse human being. I do not need to touch a flame to see if it is hot. Additionally, there is the karmic code which dictates that you don't mess with another woman's man. Why do we go down a path which we know is ultimately going to cause us undue pain? You don't need a crystal ball to know this is going to end badly. I have another friend doing the very same thing right now. I want to slap these women and tell them to snap out of it! In the best of circumstances relationships are really hard and painful by nature. Why would one choose to begin one on a foundation of quick sand? In order to keep our friend from driving home, Duke threw himself on the fire and took one for the team. He danced with her while we tried to sober her up for the drive home. SexualChocolate and I were laughing as we could see he was being violated repeatedly (good thing the dance floor was on the other side of the bar from the pool tables.) We made her stay for a couple of hours drinking 7 and Jacks (hold the Jack.) This week, I noticed she had changed her status on Facebook to, in a relationship, it's complicated. That it is......
Ps. I know Brooke Hogan is not officially a cougar. I couldn't help but to publish this pic. I can't decided if she looks more like a cougar or a tranny....

Media Hegemony

TV and movies really fuck us up as chicks. I want the males in the Filthy and Gorgeous Posse to chime in on this.....would you really fall in love with a woman that was pregnant with another man's baby a la The Practice? Or have an acrimonious divorce and still love your ex (same show.) I can think of a million stupid romantic comedies that support these dilusional story lines inflicted upon us on a media machine fuled by the dollars of desperate women. This bullshit is force fed down our throats by the media but honestly....it would NEVER EVER HAPPEN. I cannot get a guy to call me back when I call him on some bullshit like, er...I dunno...saying something like, "if you are going to be late drop a dime..." Men are such narcissitic and fragile creatures that they fold under the mildest of scrutinety. Oh wait, on The Practice the Other Woman is kissing the much sought after male who is having a baby with another woman. THIS would happen all day long. Women would screw over another woman for a hot piece. I remember back in Chicago I had met a man that I was really getting along with at a party. I was perplexed that he never called and asked me out. Over a year later, I ran into this man and asked him why he never called and he told me that the girl I was with told him I had AIDS. True story (I don't have AIDS for the record.) These television shows and movies are designed to perpetuate a myth that the impossible can happen. We can find true love when we least expect it. Pfft!

I am an Asshole

I just spent four and a half hours of my life trying to get my Linksys wireless adapter to make my fucking ON DEMAND! work. I have been sober for the last month. Seriously. Sober. Being bounced from Direct TV tech support for an hour, to ATT DSL tech support for an hour to Linksys tech support for two and a half hours would drive a nun to drink. Finally, the ON DEMAND! worked and I smugly hit "menu"...only thing to watch was Ghost Hunters. I promptly went to the liquor store and bought a bottle of wine. That was the bubbles on the champagne. Horrid day capped with technical difficulties. My eyes are bleeding. I need to start documenting. I just don't know where to start. I went inward about a month ago. When I am out with my friends I actually enjoy it. It is a challenge to do so. I am making no money. I cannot pay my bills. It is so bad everywhere I look. I feel like a jerk complaining...I am scared.

To add to the clusterfuck, I recently found myself unknowingly dating someone I have known for eight years and never looked at as a potential mate. We often go out for cocktails, usually in a group. I had noticed the invitations were coming more frequently and were more one on one types of situations. My fear was confirmed when we went to a Lakers game and he grabbed my hand. I guess I am completely clueless as the few people I have told about this have known he has liked me for YEARS. So, Miss Maturity just stopped answering his calls about a month ago. What an assholey move but frankly, with all this self improvement I just can't muster the energy to have "The Conversation."

Next stop on the self-improvement train is to quit smoking. I have been researching quitting drinking alcohol and caffiene....and then smoking. I am attempting to change my deeply embedded body and brain chemestry. Not so easy. I have replaced alcohol and caffiene with food. I am power loading on vitamins which are designed to be natural mood elevators. Right now I am eating a white bean, kale and kilbasa soup which tastes healthy (translation, gross.) Nothing worse. I am at a weird point with clothes too. My old shorts are too big and falling off....I went and bought the next size down and they give me muffin tops and camel toe. Hot stuff! Additionally, I started taking an anti-depressant which is supposed to assist with the smoking cecessation. Life sucks for me.

I did make it through the first round of interviews for a reality tv show where they do arranged marriages. Sissy is really amped up about me doing reality tv. I know she wants me to get drunk and go in the hot tub and fuck the dude of the first date. Not outside the realm of possibility. Let's hope I am still employable if I make it onto this show.

Smelly McSmellerson

I smell bad. I mean, I smoke and yet....I recognize I smell bad. I just cannot imagine what a mortal nose would smell if it were to smell me. To top it off, my sink in my kitchen is totally fucked up. I cannot run water without it flowing in black muckyness on the floor. Which also smells. The black muckyness. It is raining...my dogs smell. Awful. Again, I have killed and paralyzed my cylia in my mucas membranes and I can still smell the smell. Wet, smoky, rotten kitchen smell dog. In the effort to not smell while I get the plumber in, I have been doing dishes in my bathroom. It now smells too. Bathroom sinks are not intended to drain fetid kitchen shit. It is stuck and smelly. Welcome to my world. It is a disgusting cigerette, wet dog, fetid food, icky goo on the floor and not draining rotten food in the bathroom sink kind of smell. Ok, it was really the bathtub. It was completely disgusting picking mushrooms out of the bathtub drain. Are you happy people?!?!?!?!?

pour a lil on the ground for the dead relationship....

It breaks my heart to hear my friends in pain. Even when the pain is something you can see coming from ten thousand miles away and can be avoided, yet decide the experience is more important that the consequence. I admire the bravery. We have all made the choice to be with someone we know is temporary and will break our hearts. I have a ginormous pain in my heart right now for one of my very best friends that I know is hurting today. I just want to hug her up and tell her it will be ok...even though today it doesn't seem so. To all my friends that have been hurt and made the leap in spite of their own best judgements, let's give props to my sissy that is hurting so badly tonight. Love you girl.

I was the bar star....not in a good way

Hello my people, the new year is starting with some promising notes for our girl Kat. New Years Eve, had a very last minute and surprise date. We went to Firefly and the conversation and company was simply delightful. I had yet another date on the 1st.....not quite so high brow, beer and not wine sort of date but frickin' fantastic. IT Guy and I started for lunch at Stanleys...which turned into cocktails. We decided to change venues and went to the Sweep. It was still daylight which is a very different experience at the Sweep. IT Guy is super hot, 6'4 and funnier than hell! We got along like a house on fire. He makes me laugh, hysterically belly type laughing. We feed each other's silly childish sense of humor and it was so much fun! At one point we go off to the smoking patio at the Sweep and start to kiss. He is super tall....I was pressed up against him as we talked and laughed and kissed and kissed. At one point, he mentioned..."you know we are in front of the window here"....having only been there at night I was like, "pfft...that window is blacked out, you can't see out here from in there!" He was so big it was irresistable...I had to climb his body. I threw myself at him wrapping my legs around his waist and arms around his neck. Cheers emenated from inside the bar. IT Guy says, "you know that is for us right?" Me, "pfft, no no no no...they are watching a football game, must have been a good play." We continue to flirt and kiss outside when an old lady pops her head out and asks, "would you two like a room? If not you are entertaining everyone in the bar." Oops. We walk back inside the bar, and are met with much clapping. A really old guy told me that he had to leave and go home to masturbate. He also thanked us for the show. I checked out the window and yup...sure as shit you can see through the window as plain as day. Fuck yes, I am a Bar Superfucking Star! To be perfectly honest, we weren't doing anything very sexual or gross, just kissing. I think the mad chemestry just kicked up the pheramones and made everyone in the bar a bit drunker. At the end of the day, I had a great couple of dates....will be a while until I go back to the Sweep however....I hope all the Filthy and Gorgeous Posse had a wonderful holiday. I am just hoping next year will be better for me. Happy New Years kids!

I spin

I am sentimental and optimistic all at the same time. Are these mutually exclusive states? I am about to explode with hope, and happiness, and amazing memories....I don't even know where to start. This is all on the backdrop of some complete and total freak I went out with once which reminds me of all the crazies that are out there. I am spinning and I need focus. There is so fucking much inside that needs to come out. I just don't know where to start. I am happy. I am happy. Nothing is better, nothing is right yet. I haven't said that in so long.

Two weeks ago I went out with the CFO...and it was a fucking disaster. I made some huge errors in judgement, starting with taking him to my local bar...dammit! Now he knows where I hang out.

I invited him to hang with me and AppleBottom (frickin' back so delicious I wanna take a bite out of her ass myself) and he showed up at the Sweep. Everything was going fine, until he got a few cocktails in him. Afterward, he started groaping me, cornered me and stuck his tongue down my throat and was just generally up in my shit all night long. Somewhere along the line, I started talking with BMW guy and his Fameous Actor Friend who were much funnier, much smarter and much better looking than the CFO guy.

20 things I don't tell anyone

1. I put ketchup on everything. I cannot eat nachos or tacos without it, I call it white trash salsa.
2. Number one song on my iPod is Rock Your Body, yes yes Justin Timberlake
3. I drink alone
4. I live like I am in a frat house, ALWAYS have to call first. (relatively new for me.)
5. I talk to myself a lot
6. I genuinely belive the 80's were the hayday for white people. ('Cept for disco. Could better dances be invented for us ever?!?!?!?)
7. I butter rice crispy treats
8. My first fuck choice would be Bowie. Laminated.
9. David Sedaris has it all right.
10. I believe in soul mates
11. I have an abusive relationship with my boss
12. Steely Dan is my favorite band of all time
13. I was studying to be a minister before I move to fucked up L.A.
14. Happiest moment, right now
15. Saddest moment, right now
16. True love...Rick Morton
17. Role models are Xena (cause sometimes it doesn't do any good just to bitch,) Elanor Roosevelt and Zelda Fitzgerald
18. Ultimate theme song, U Li La Lu, Poi Dog Pondering; http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hrr9eFHKdKM
19. Biggest regret, losing my best friend since third grade
20. Proudest accomplishment is helping my grandmother cross over with dignity

It's not so bad after all......

The economy sucks. The job market is grim and it is a dismal time to be desperately looking for different employment. My boss is passive aggressive and the worse things look, the worse he behaves. Oh, and I just took at 60 grand pay cut and cannot pay my bills. Good times! My degree was heavily psych based and I cannot stop thinking about Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. I find myself somewhere entrenched between the bottom two blocks on the visual aid above. I do not want to pursue relationships at this point as I am fearful of being able to feed and house myself. I found this web site, www.ted.com. I highly recommend it for anyone having a crisis of conscious right now. There are some pretty uplifting and enlightening talks on there. I am lovin' up some of the Filthy and Gorgeous chicks now. I am blessed. I may not be able to eat..it may feel like I can't breathe. I have no security with anything. It is nice to at least have friends to talk about it with.... Lucky lucky lucky me. Just thinking out loud.

The Prophet Known as Britney Spears

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TjP5VfCswZY

Here is a link to the new Britney coughcomebackcough video Womanizer. It drones on "womanizer womanizer womanizer womanizer" gives me a headache to be perfectly honest. I guess we learned that Britney cannot remember lyrics when she had to string two words together, "gimmie more gimmie more gimmie more gimmie more" so I appreciate her handlers boiling her material down to fit her skill set. I am bored with my job today and feeling pretty lazy myself. I wonder if this tactic is transferrable to my job. Do you think I could rock this out in my account calls? Go in to see my target audience and drone, "cmos sensor cmos sensor cmos sensor" or "dram module dram module dram module dram module." I somehow suspect my customers would look at me as if I were batshit crazy. Guess Britney can pull it off because we already know she is bananas.

On a political note; I was very disappointed this morning when I awoke and did not find a pile of cash outside of my door. I though Obamma promised us that? If anyone from the Filthy and Gorgeous Posse finds out where we can get all the free shit he promised please let me know. I want to be the first in line with my hand out to get a free house, free education, free healthcare........I think I am going to really really like socialism. Gimmie more gimmie more gimmie more. Who knew Britney was a prophet?

Katzilla

I have had an incredibly taxing week and as Friday night draws to a close there is an epiphany; night time Kat ALWAYS fucks daytime Kat over......as I type this, Night time Kat reaches for the last cigarette in the package (leaving daytime Kat running to the Sev first thing tomorrow morning.) Night time Kat is thinking another drink is in order now...we have to blog then sleep don't we? Daytime Kat has things to do tomorrow. She needs to take the dogs to the dog park to run off some of their pent up energy from their neglect this week. Daytime Kat has to do Yoga to work out some of her pent up energy from this week. Daytime Kat has errands, chores and work to do. It is like Godzilla vs. Mothra. Worthy opponents with evenly matched strengths, the weaknesses being their ultimate downfall. At a crossroads now. The ultimate direction of my life determined by the outcome of this battle. Who shall win? Kathra needs money to prevail, think that may be the achelles heel on that monster.

JUST looking

The Colbert Report had Rush on tonight, first televised appearance in 30 years. Prior to rocking out (as much as a bunch of old guys can. My delight was fueled by my personal meeting of Neil Pert at Firefly. I had no clue who the hell is was and kicked him out of my table.) Prior to their performance he asked them, "Do you have a special name for your fans? Are they Russians?" Rush replied, "No. They all have their own names." "Neil, do you have a drum dependency? This is actually an intervention...." and "You are known for such long and epic songs. By the time you get to the end of your epic song, has it gone on so long that it influences your future work?" My fear with the Aussie is we have another few weeks before we can be together. Will we be so involved in making our own epic love story that by the time it actually happens it will become a pale imitation of what it could have been from the beginning? Like the Andy Warhol painting of love affairs; the individuality and passion stamped out and made a product. Andy Warhol did say, "I'm afraid that if you look at a thing long enough, it loses all of its meaning." I worry. Today was rough. We both worked hard (I think) and we cooled down a bit. Inevitable right?

satan claws

I am just dyslexic enough that I fall for this every time.

The Aussie makes me laugh, makes me cry, makes me swoon, and (more scary than anything) makes me hope that love is still possible for this old hag. I haven't had someone make me feel this way in almost five years....hope, possibility, flirting......the delicious unfolding of personalities. In a way, the internet is so old school. Although the chat is immediate, you are writing. You are getting to know someone as a person. Abelard and Heloise had something right there. I am enjoying getting to know someone when I am not worried if he likes my dress or how I am wearing my hair. It is enough he likes my brain for now. In a couple of weeks he will be here and it will be a different story. Today, I will rock out my no make-up, pony tail, cummy old tshirt self and know that he really likes me. ME.

There is a satan claws.

Game over....

Alright cats, are you ready? This girl is...buckle up..IN LOVE.

I am in this completely amazing free fall......I haven't even admitted it to myself. What now? I did yoga Saturday morning and was in this incrdibly peaceful place. Treavor reminded us to pay respect to that which motivated us to be in that space today...get this, I started to CRY!! I am happy, peaceful and met a great guy. Please God, don't make me out to be a fool! Is there any other kind of pain?
Namaste! Kat

psycho killer, qu'est que c'est

American Heritage New Dictionary of Cultural Literacy, Third Edition
sociopath [(soh-see-uh-path, soh-shee-uh-path)]

Someone whose social behavior is extremely abnormal. Sociopaths are interested only in their personal needs and desires, without concern for the effects of their behavior on others. (Compare psychopath.)

Tahiti

"I can put my passport and credit card in my teeth and swim to shore. No, I will not have clothes or shoes but I should be able to hitch hike easily in a bikini. There has to be a village somewhere close by....This is what it must have been like to be on Alcatraz, land so close but so far away...."

As I was standing on the deck of a yacht anchored in a desolate bay in Mooreo, I found myself thinking these thoughts. How the hell did I get myself in this mess? I had been talking to The Sailor for four months via email, instant messenger and infrequently by phone. It is amazing the tricks our mind plays on us when we have long periods of silence. We project our own desires into the abyss and file it as the truth in our heads. This is why I was standing on this yacht looking longingly at the beach just outside of my reach. I am a romantic fool.

I have been looking for meaning in this experience. It started out well enough, a beautiful lei being placed around my neck at the airport. Palpable desire emanating from both of us as our legs touched in the taxi on the way back to the dock in Papeete. Sailing in perfect weather; the wind cooperated, singing classic rock together, eating brie and baguette on the deck. What did I do? Where did I fuck up? I have tossed this over in my mind Monday morning quarterbacking it for over a week now and here is my conclusion; he is just an arrogant dick. It ain't me brother, it is YOU.

I could outline the nasty insults he dropped casually, designed to pick apart and cut to the core. Or, the physical violence. The very real fear of being pushed into the piss (sailor talk for ocean.) The unsatisfying sex. But what is more interesting to me is why did I take the failure to connect on as my own shortcoming?

A good friend suggested I was suffering from Stockholm Syndrome (I am Norweigan, the chosen people, so the Scandanavian connection did give me reason to consider this); I was trapped on a boat and I was trying to please my captor. I actually think it goes deeper than that. I think it is a woman thing. We are the ones that are supposed to make the exchanges (interpersonally, visually, intellectually, sexually) pleasing. At heart, most of us are wired to be Japanese Comfort Girls, creating a pleasurable experience. When this failed to occur, it is so deeply ingrained in my psyche that I took it on as my failure as a woman. Not that this guy is a sociopath and is likely unable to get along with anyone, but MY problem.

Some of the nasty comments resonated with me and I find myself still wondering if he is right. After a 48 hour period where I did not say one word he said he would take me to dinner. I asked if the conversation would be like it had been for the previous two days and he replied, "I have never met someone who talked so much and said so little with their words in my life. So yes, it will be the same." At this point, I asked him to drop me at the dock, which he did, "Bonne chance!" he sarcastically yelled into the breeze as he blazed off in the dinghy not looking back. Fortunately, The Dingy Bar and cigarettes were waiting for me and I over-indulged in both. Also more sailors who occupied the time I had left until I flew home. I was starved for conversation and they seemed to enjoy mine. They invited me to crew for them anytime. They knew The Sailor. "How the hell did you end up with that asshole?" seemed to be the prevelent question by many many sailors at the bar that had travelled from Mexico to French Polynesia with him. He has a bad rep which one sailor chararacterized as an "I" problem, I am smarter than you. I know everything there is to know. I am superior. Ironic as he has a wandering eye...thought the pun was funny and laughed inside my head at the coincidence.

This week, I have found myself asking people if I am annoying when I talk. Do I engage you or am I just off on tangents? Do I have relevant things to talk about or are they immaterial? Am I articulate or babble? Why have I given him this power over me? I have decided today to intelectually throw his bullshit observations about me into the piss. Fuck him. As HottieEsq notes, the best way to get over a man is to get under another one. I am working on my pipeline and think I have found a better match. And he likes to talk to me!

Happy 4th.

Kat

The dark night in the woods. We all have them. I have been struggling for the last few months with those endless questions. Why am I here? What am I doing with my life? What is the meaning to all of this endless bullshit I seem to endure? I am faced with many of my friends going through similarly challenging times. It is a process. I needed to cocoon and rest for a bit. So, I have been doing yoga like a fucking freak (I can tree pose like a motherfucker for the record.) I am learning to like just being with me. I am not escaping into my knitting. I am reconnecting to my body as I have had to distance myself from it for such a very long time. I am just learning to be, and be happy. Through this process, the one stabilizing factor has been my friends. I am so very lucky. They see great things in me, and I am forced to recognize those things in myself. The Doc told me tonight that I am acting desperate, like I am waiting for the last chopper our of Saigon. I disagree, I have a deep longing and need that has to be met. I cannot put my finger on it yet, but I will. My mojo has been off the hook. I have options on a day to day basis. I want something more, something deeper, something darker, something genuinely amazing and beautiful. I am going to Tahiti next week to be with the Sailor. It defies all logic, all intellectual input, all emotional sanity. I have to do this. I will do this. I hope I don't get chopped up into bits (both a literally and metaphorically.) When (if) I come back I will be able to spread my wings and delight all of the Filthy and Gorgeous Posse. I am very close to being me again.

Oh Amy you just say everything....

don't die Amy...

baby steps

I am still a little freaked out that my blog got out to my work environment. I cannot believe someone I trusted with this address would tell....quite upsetting. I want to write...I have some funny fucking things to tell; stinky pussy, men as digital vs. women as analogue, fucking in general....I have so much to say and am now afraid to say it here. This was the point of this blog. Put it all out there in an anonomous fashion and now I feel like it is ruined. I moved it so I know my regular readers cannot find it. I suppose I need to ease back into it...

I want to spill. I NEED the release of writing but I cannot. I think this goes back to when I was a tween and my mother read my diary....horrible and inhibited my self-expression for years and years. I have been afraid to write ever since. Kind of like taking sexy-time pictures with your lover; leave no footprints. Big step, post....

I hate people in general. They usually let you down. Maybe I will write about the stink puss.....funny if it wasn't me.

I will find new readers....I will be able to let it all hang out. That is when I am at my best. Stay tuned new friends, Kat is back and ready to party.

4-0h no.......................

This week has been quite trying. I have no money......I screwed up and had a check clear (my hairapist held a check for over a month...WHO HOLDS A CHECK FOR A MONTH?!?!?!??) I know I should be watching these things, but I only write one check a month ever, my rent check. I pay all my bills online and pay for everything with my debit card so when I look at my statement, it is usually spot on. So, I incurred over five hundred dollars in in overdraft fees; I love buying the $39 dollar Egg McMuffin, or the $37 bottle of water from the Sev. I got paid this morning and celebrated by buying a tank of gas and a bag of dog food. I treated myself to some fancy french vanillia creamer this morning. Good times!! I have been pretty depressed as I will be the big 4-0h no in two weeks. I mean, I am an old lady and am still living on the edge. How much harder can I work? How much harder can I try? Life is hard. My GIANT splurge is getting rid of this nappy ass hair of mine tomorrow. Sissy asked me how bad my hair really looked and I told her this; imagine you were walking and saw a sick mouse in the grass. You would pick me up, take me home to nurse me back to help and name me Patches. THAT is how bad my hair looks now. I called my Hairapist...who I am still pissed at by the way....and told her she needs to fix me tomorrow. The plan is; weave with high and low lights and cut this shit off!!! I am going to cut off nearly a foot of hair and go for the bob. Seems to be a popular plan.

Getting older isn't a bad thing. What birtdays represent now is a benchmark for where we SHOULD be, what we SHOULD have, SHOULD SHOULD SHOULD. I cannot remember where I heard this but someone said that happiness isn't getting what we want, but wanting what we have. I am in a transitional phase....I am not passionate about anything. I want to look around my shitty apartment in the Valley and really WANT to live here. I want to go to my thankless and shitty job and WANT to do it. I want to go to bed in the dog pile and WANT to sleep with the doggies...........I want to want what I have but sadly....this birthday reminds me of how far away from where I WANT to be. I would like to see this pass quietly.

Talk Dirty to Me

Words have power. Any one of the Filthy and Gorgeous posse knows this to be true for our girl Kat. I have dumped a guy for using the word "tummy" over dinner conversation. I have refused to reply to a man that wanted me to give him a "sensual massage." It occurs to me that we do not have the proper vocabulary to talk about relationships, let alone sexual ones. Eskimos have something like forty words to describe snow and in English....how many to describe love, sex and all of the wonderful things that go hand in hand? Too few so we have to improvise. HottieEsq went on date four with The Jew last night. We all know what date four is..however, she did not put out. For The Jew, apparently verbal foreplay included dropping his FICO score over dinner (780, btw) and using the phrase, "making love" to entice her into his bed. The irony was that it was his FICO score that got her hot and the description of the act that got her cold. It is a delicate balance between clinical and juvenile...FICO vs. fucko. Mr. MBA dated a school teacher that would call his dick his "pee pee" in the throes of passion. Yup, she was short lived. The Writer was telling me he would crack up when this woman he dated would yell out that she was "worshipping his magnificent erection." I suspect the exalted erection would wane with such praise, proud yet sensitive as they tend to be. I have had men ask if I would have "intercourse" with them. Flashes of the cold steel table at my gyno and the icy cold metal duck bills he shoves up in me come to mind with that word. I have said this before; I would have much greater respect for the man that tells me he wants to crank some Zeppelin, spank my ass and then fuck me like the bitch that I am. THAT has power....
Today's homework is let me know which words turn you off...and turn you ON....

Monday, ugh

Mondays seem to roll around much more quickly than Fridays. Am I the only one that notices these things? I have so much to do today and I just have lost my work ethic. I had a date Friday night with the Animator2.0. He was nice and all but I believe our political viewpoints are so divergent that we will not be able to bridge that gap. He is quitting his high paying job doing film animation in order to install solar panels. Yes, you read that correctly. Tree hugging, hippie freak. I squandered the rest of the weekend making jambalya and chatting with men from the Dirty Filthy web site. There are a lot of lonely people out there. Lots of dickheads too. Speaking of dickheads, I have not heard from the Screenwriter since last Thursday. Not sure what that is about but I suspect it has something to do with having a girlfriend. I wasted a month of my time waiting for something to happen there. No more! I felt like I was one of my dogs....they will sit and just stare at me...do something! Do something now! At some point, I just stopped needing to understand what makes these guys tick. I really don't need to know the reason he hasn't called, it is the result that matters. I have been too busy filling my pipeline to notice. Or care. Just a quick update...I have to get back to work. Sigh.

More Amy....

This song is the bomb. Cannot forget this is part of the Frank obsession. Also You know I'm no Good off of Back to Black. Just cannot post all of them here.

For one tiny minute......

So I just heard from the Screenwriter. I presume that his "company" has gone and from the tepid text I just got from him my guess would be that he has had his pipes thoroughly cleaned and he's just not that into me. Oh well, was fun to think about for a tiny minute but back to reality. I am annoyed really. Whatever the case, the dirty thoughts he has inspired must be flying through space right now. I have been contacted by Skeptic, San Fran and the Cracker over the last week. It is like I am sending out the "slut satellite" to any that are tuned into my frequency. Tonight, I am going to see a band with a group of friends at Cafe Cordillair just staggering distance from my pad. Very convenient. Tomorrow, I am going to a housewarming party for my buddy Mr. Lexis. Should be fun, his friends are all really cool. Thinking there will be some guitar hero action. Other than that, I may go try my hand at Thai curry over at HottieEsq's house this weekend. Maybe I will finally get all of my closets cleaned out and my junk over to Goodwill. Nah, that would be just too productive.

Amy Winehouse Anthems

I have not been able to stop listening to Frank. These two lil ditties are the culprits. The Screenwriter has "company" and I won't hear from him until tomorrow. "Company" translates to chick right? Ughhhhh!

Why bother anymore?

Mo' Jo

My juices must be flowing. NBC Exec met me and HottieEsq out at the Chimney Sweep last night. I will say, the novelty of being a Sweep VIP will never wear off. HottieEsq and I were gestured to the front of the line by our favorite bartender there. We walked in with the requisite hair flip in the faces of those still relegated to the indignity of standing in line to get into this dump. HottieEsq was already tipsy (thinking of that song now, everybody gettin' tipsy) which made the walk somewhat interesting...she bounced off several poles, bushes and wandered into the street at one point but we made it in one piece. NBC Exec met us inside and he was similarly buzzed having just returned from some Golden Globe event. He was randy....I felt like I was one of those cartoon character pork chops and he was the slobbering wolf looking to snap it up. We spent the night flirting via text...gotta love technology. I teeeeeased him mercilessly. I have no intention of hooking up with him for several reasons but it was fun nonetheless. I made him crazy which was plenty satisfying for me. HottieEsq decided the tables on the outside patio would be a great place to take a nappy so we decided to leave. This morning she is still not understanding why the bouncer might have a problem with that, seemed a perfectly reasonable course of action to her. Got her sorry ass up to my sofa and stopped talking to her once she started babbling nonsequitur sentences. Continued to text NBC Exec until about 2:30. Should have given him something to wrap his arms around.....or hand in this instance. All in all, it was a very fun night and I am loving my new found Mojo. I missed it!

I'm the Stalker

Another Saturday morning nursing a wicked hangover. Spent the night drinking and gossiping with some of the knitting members of the Filthy and Gorgeous posse. Good times! That is until I woke up this morning of course. Haven't chatted with the Screenwriter much over the last couple of days.....he accused me of being stalkery and unhealthy (mentally.) Guess I am guilty as charged. I just haven't met anyone I like this much in a while. I don't know if it is a bonus that he is level headed or if that will be my downfall. I will just try to chillax and enjoy the ride. Y'all know how hard that is for me. My stalker tendencies are also fueled by the fact I just really want to get laid. As many of you are aware, it has been quite a while for our girl Kat here. I am hoping the phrase "use it or lose it" does not apply to my little bean. I suppose I should appreciate his desire to take things slow in order to ensure we are a good match on every level. If you look at the contents of this blog, I clearly am no expert on developing relationships so I should defer to his better judgement. I tend to get myself in trouble by jumping in with my eyes closed so I will do my best to be patient and let whatever is going to happen happen. Why is that so difficult? I don't want to fuck up something that could be good by rushing in and I don't want to get into something bad (again) either. Oh dear.....time will tell. Speaking of bad, I saw Mantits with his new gf (ahem) going to the grocery store last weekend. Wow, she is naschty!!! Heavy, mom jeans, out of control hair, no make-up....I honestly would have mistaken her for a dyke if I saw her out. He sure traded up didn't he?? Is it wrong that I derive so much pleasure from that? One of his parting jabs of, "do you think you can do better than me?? Do you?!?!" And my response of, "I have and I will." went through my head when I saw him. HA! I bet he made her pay for half of the groceries. Cheap bastard as well. Mr. Fantastic noted that our relationship was so Dutch, we should be wearing wooden shoes. "You only dated me for my money!" I will try to remember this monumental mistake when I am getting impatient with the Screenwriter. Serenity now.

Bum Deal

They say your external environment reflects your internal environment. Looking around my apartment I realize that I am a fucking mess. I am wondering if this is a sign of some sort of mental illness or that I have just given up caring. Like wearing sweatpants all the time. That is the fashion equalivent I think. So, I met the Screenwriter last night and he was very cute in real life. I haven't heard from him today so I am thinking that is not a good sign. Insert deep sigh here________. I have been a little obsessed with him this week and my work has suffered. I will say he gives a mighty fine mind fuck. Just having sex on the brain has had some unanticipated side effects; pheramones a go go! I have been hit on so many times this week it is unbelievable! I was invited to swing with a couple here in the SFV, cute guy at the grocery store, a customer even. Sadly, I only have eyes for the Screenwriter now. Who isn't calling. Ugh! I am trying to find some sort of ironic twist or meaningful connection for this blog entry but it ain't coming to me. This just sucks. Skeptic teased me last Friday with the potential for sex, then blew me off. And a blast from the past, the Animator is sniffin' round again. He dumped me for a 22yr old so I don't think I am going to go back there. Interesting beginning to the New Year....everything old is new again and the new is getting old. Hey, that was some sort of insightful commentary?? Maybe I still got it.

Back in the Saddle...not

I haven't had much to say to the Filthy and Gorgeous Posse lately. Work has been monopolizing my time then back to Chicago for the holidays. I decided Friday that I just needed to get laid with no strings or hoop jumping and went back onto the Dirty Filthy web site. As you might imagine there are many that would happily take me up on my offer. I chatted with a lot of guys; I got the usual jerks that think that "hi, are you horny? Wanna fuck?" is going to get me (or any woman for that matter) to run right out and drop my nickers for them the sweet talking Cyranos they are. Or guys with the screen names like Lonelyguy instant messaging, "why won't anybody talk to me? Why won't you send me your picture? I am so lonely!" I thought about messaging him back to say he should change his name to something like IAmAPatheticLoserAndJustShootMeNow or IShouldJustGetUsedToALifeOfMasturbation but I decided that would be mean and let it go. Mixed in with the group of under-sexed predators I chatted with someone that was witty and intelligent and a breath of fresh air. Going to keep this one on the down low for a while I think. I am hoping the muse will strike and I will feel the urge to write again but until then don't expect a lot from me. Happy New Year to whomever is still reading my grossly neglected blog. I hope I can get back to this, I do miss it. By the way, I signed into my email tonight and I got the message, Adult FriendFinder 69 members are interested in Spankie. I thought that was funny. Kat

"nice" guy

Anybody that guessed his dirty little secret was that he has a girlfriend gets a gold star! Douche.

Eat it, Lick it, Snort it, Fuck it

Eat It, Lick It, Snort It, F--k It

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Words to live by from the living legend that is Britney Spears. So, the good news is I am dating what appears to be a very nice man. Shocking I know. He took me out Friday to a very nice dinner and we had a great time. When the bill came, no hesitation......He met me and HottieEsq out at Stanley's last night for dins. Lots of wine was flowing. I am somewhat hung over this am but it was worth it. I like him. Still going to keep my pipeline full as we never know what to expect. He could bust out tomorrow with some unique and disturbing characteristic. Would the Filthy and Gorgeous Posse like to make guesses as to what this guy's Dirty Little Secret may be? Creativity is a bonus. Muah, Kat

The Millionaire I Never Got to Know

Is it a prerequisite if you are a guy to be retarded or mentally ill to join EHarmony? I am beginning to think that is the case. I had a date with another douche I met there, the Snake Oil Salesman. After our first meeting, my Spidey senses were tingling that something was just not right. He wasn't what he was portraying himself to be. His resume read like the phone book; many disparate and weird job done for short periods of time. His current job, although legal, struck me as one step above a loan shark. He sells $500 computers to people that do not have credit for $2000. He drank a ton and told me the previous weekend he had done X and blow all weekend. Icky. I decided to trust my gut and never go out with this guy again. Sissy went off on me and remarked that I never have anything positive to say, that a guy is not their job, sometimes I should just go out and see if something will develop over time......tough love from Sissy. So The Snake Oil Salesman called me up and asked me out again and, with Sissy's stern chastising in mind, I said yes. We went for sushi and I didn't eat much as my tummy was upset. The bill came and there was this very awkward silence as I waited for him to pick it up
(I didn't eat!!) and apparently he was waiting for me to pick it up. I am never good in these situations, so I just ate the bill. We went to the Chimney Sweep and had some beers. He drank about three to every one I had. As we talked, I found out he still lives at home, owes a ton of money from a failed t-shirt business, never graduated from college (only had one credit to go), makes $10 an hour (no wonder he didn't reach for the bill, fucking scrub,) and various other facts which I found incompatible with my Prince Charming ideal. On the way home, he said that he felt I had a wall up. I told him, in the most gentle fashion, that I felt we were in two different places blah blah blah. He began to sob. Yes. SOB. I listened to him carry on for a bit until I said that I was leaving. I mean, I have NO idea how to deal with crying. I told HottieEsq when babies cry I offer them a twenty to shut up. Rarely works. I was having trouble with my gate key and he got out of the car and helped me. Once he opened the gate, he refused to give me my keys back and began berating me. After about twenty minutes of this, I told him I would call the cops if he didn't give my keys back. He complied by whipping them into the bushes. Picture me, in a dress and platforms fishing my keys out of the bushes in the pitch black. Good times. He wouldn't leave my courtyard either. Had to threaten to call the cops again. He left. My phone was ringing as I walked up the stairs, it was him. He left the message, "when you blog about me, you should title it the Millionaire I never got to know." Done.

If the season won't change, I will make them boys! xoxoxo Betty

I am back!

Hello Posse! I am back from my week in Chicago. Not enough time and I basically saw a doctor every day I was home. Keep your fingers crossed I don't have cancer!! I have been working the last couple of days....drank way too much wine last night. I have several guys going on Eharmony right now.....they seem very funny and have important sounding jobs so....I am cautiously optimistic. My mom loved my red hair and my 93 yr. old grandma gave me the ultimate compliment when she said, "It doesn't look as bad as I thought it would." I have over a thousand emails to work through (that is AFTER I deleted the spam) so I should be busy for a while. Missed my writing class Tuesday which is probably a good thing. I don't think I have any business being there. I am displeased with my first piece I wrote for class. Comedy writing, what the fuck was I thinking!! Going out with some of the Filthy and Gorgeous posse this weekend and hopefully will get some action going. I am starting to feel ready to date. Speaking of, I had a ManTits sighting yesterday. As I was going to work at 9 am, I drove down the street to see ManTits sitting on the curb with a couple of other losers. He was wearing a wife beater. Someone should tell him that is NOT a good look when you have DDs and no bra. I am glad to be home but I do have to say, I really miss Chicago. Sigh. Fall is nice.

Deeep thoughts...............

Ruthless: Ever see women keep their clothes on once porn music is playing? Oh hell no...Larry the plumber stops by for a clogged drain...porn music plays. WHAMMO...clothes gone, and Larry got lucky.

Ruthless: Oh what's that? You are at work...its a long day. Tiffany stops by to give you a quick backrub and in poor dialogue, tells you how you are an asset to her as an employee...BAM. porn music starts, and suddenly..she's nekkid on her desk and you are earning a promotion.

Ruthless: I am telling you. I need to start a band that plays nothing but porn music. We'd be bigger than the Beatles!..

This is an IM convo with my buddy Ruthless. He has a bumper sticker on his car that says, "Porn. It's cheaper than dating." The icing on the cake is he usually is wearing a cap that says, "Porn Star" on the front. I really want to know how men accomplish anything. Clearly, this is an idea to which he has dedicated much gray matter. I am sure I have lost most of the male readers at this point as they are fixated on the Tiffany/backrub/promotion thing. On the positive side, we haven't seen each other in a while and here is his response to my recent picture I sent him;

Ruthless: that's you? holy fuck...you keep getting hotter and hotter and younger and younger looking. i hope the devil got as good a deal; "ok devil, i get..eternal beauty...you get...to see my tits anytime you want!"

Awwww! Couldn't think of a more flattering comment. I love you men. You cannot fake that simplistic honesty. I suppose this is telling of how desperate I am....this was the highlight of my day. Ok Filthy and Gorgeous posse, I am going to struggle to stay awake until my shuttle comes in two hours and fourty minutes. Hopefully I will sleep my way to Chicago. By the way, if anyone hears from Boy Gorgeous please let me know. He is MIA and I am becoming quite worried. Love you, Kat

Unhappy camper

Has anyone but me noticed that life is exhausting? This week has been chock full of stories about cheating spouses, out of wedlock babies, betrayal, dishonesty, pain.......my heart breaks for my friends embroiled in these horrible situations. I genuinely wonder why I am striving for something that generally ends so badly. Top it off with the regular stuff that sucks up your time; laundry, paying bills, working, cleaning......I do not know how I get it all done. I don't actually, just work whatever fire presents itself next. Couple all of this with the rest of the regular disappointments that life presents...why do we even get out of bed?? I am tired. I cannot write. I have no point of view. What the fuck am I going to write about in my comedy writing class??? I am depressed. I begin my class tonight and have a lack of material. Insecurity makes me wonder why I even thought I could write comedic pieces. Who do I think I am, fucking Kathy Griffin? I am also trying to get the hell out of Dodge....packing and cleaning. I cannot believe that my only time off this year will be spent having my cervix biopsied, my roots canaled, my teeth filled with bits of ceramic.....frankly this sucks. Being single does not go well with vacations. I am not the kind of girl that could jet off to Hawaii by myself and have a good time. I would be angerly eyeing the happy couples in love or lust or (at the bare minimum) together. I also, stupidly, booked some really retarded times for my flights; my shuttle comes tomorrow at 3am. I come home just in time to miss my class next week. Doh! I hope that I can manage an attitude adjustment over the next week. I am not a very happy camper right now.

The Gambling Douche

I am not sure where I should begin regarding my date last night. What a shizaster, I was digging my nails into my legs trying to maintain my cool. First, he pulls up in a 1970's Lincoln Town Car. He is not a car collector, this is his ride. I looked inside and the back seat is littered with empty bottles, including a bottle of Listerine (WTF?). There is a ton of trash in the back seat but what was most notable was there was both a flood light and flashlight in the front seat. In my mind, he was planning ahead for later that evening when he would be driving around the forest preserve looking for a place to dump my body. Those lights would come in handy to be sure. We went to Timmy Nolan's in Toluca Lake, kind of a dump and the food sucked. As he pulled out my chair, got me a beer, handed me a menu I replied, "Thank you." each time to which he replied, "No, thank YOU. It is my honor, my pleasure and my privilege." After about the tenth time he said that I told him he really needed to stop. REALLY needed to stop that. We were seated in front of a large t.v. which was playing the Yankees vs Red Sox game. He had a vested interest in the outcome as he had $250 bucks riding on it. He frequently referred to his "bookie" and when he won on the baseball game he breathed a sigh of relief and said that he would have his bookie apply the winnings from this bet to another debt he had incurred. At one point, he chose to go into great detail on how you bet on football games.....I started to loose my shit at this point and snapped back, "I don't care. I told you I don't watch sports and don't gamble. I REALLY don't care!" He mentioned that he lived up the street in the same house that he grew up in and I started thinking that he still lived with his parents and the hoopdie that he was driving was likely his mother's car. LOSER! He asked me to help him dress, told me he would take me shopping and mentioned his mother had just died two months prior (BTW, this is when serial murders start the killing, when mommy is gone....) All of this in the span of one hour and I had had my fill. I told him that I wasn't feeling this and I needed to go. He offered to drive me home which I declined as I didn't wanna become land fill. I walked down to Lucy's 51 and got drunk, kissed a bouncer, talked to my fuck buddy that won't fuck me for an hour on the cellie then went to sit down by the door as I was waiting for my taxi and missed the chair. Yeah. Can't go back there for a while. EHarmony sucks. I am thinking that I may just quit that for good.

Here we go again.....

Sigh. I have a date tonight and I just cannot get amped up about it. It seems like a lot of effort to go through to find out this guy is just another douche. Eharmony guy, seems cool over the phone yesterday. Made no innappropriate sexual comments or declared his love in an unnaturally quick way. He is 6'3. He plays the guitar. I am cautiously optimistic but still dreading all of the fluffing, hiking, plucking, drying, primping etc. that I am going to have to do. It would honestly be some sort of fucking miracle if I could find something clean to wear. I would bitch if I were hung with a new rope huh?

fucking Eharmony

Ok, so it begins. Everybody is closing me out. WTF????? Thanks to HottieEsq! I am feeling uber hot now.

Britney Made My Day

Yes, the Britney obsession continues. She did not disappoint me at the VMAs last night as she was a fucking mess. Not only does Perez Hilton have a close-up of her hand which shows she is missing finger nails, she once again gave the paparazzi another cookie shot on her way back from the shitastic performance. Only thing that would have improved her performance for me is if here weave fell out or her dancers were dressed like Cheetos. Good times! I find this absolutely delicious.
Had a train wreck of a Saturday night myself with HottieEsq and Knitstah Closed down Mexicali. I met someone who is almost old enough to be my father. He is a partner in a decent law firm in LA according to HottieEsq, probably pulling a mil a year. He is not bad looking, Norwegian (the chosen people) and seemed to have a good personality. Can I be arm candy? HottieEsq is urging me to go out with him and get some SWAG. I have long said that I missed out in my youth and should have scored a sugar daddy when I had a chance. Seems that I have that chance now, and I just don't think I can do it. I have flashes of Samantha from Sex in the City making a mad dash to the door when she saw the billionaire's old man ass. I can see myself doing that. How badly do I not want to work? Can you do it with someone that is as old as your parents? I cannot imagine introducing this guy to my friends and family. I have been very grossed out when people have mistaken me as my dad's girlfriend when we have been together. I am not sure I could handle the knowing looks from other people. Would be nice to have that Mercedes convertible I have always wanted. I ain't saying I'm a gold digger......What do y'all think?

I love this. Where were my friends when I dumped ManTits?

It's Kat Bitch......

I am back from my blogging hiatus. Been working too much and haven't been able to get a date to save my life. I have also developed an obsession with the train wreck that is Britney Spears. Where the fuck are her pants? WHY DOES SHE NOT WEAR PANTS?!! I am thinking there may be a problem with my blog material as all I have to talk about is work and Britney. Not very interesting to most. At the insistence of HotteEsq, I have renewed my EHarmony membership. Day two and it is already beginning. Tell my if this is borderline creepy;

How would you spend a romantic evening with someone you have been dating for more than one year?:
I got the impression from you profile that you like to cook, so maybe we could spend time together preparing dinner...have a candle lit dinner, followed by a nice hot bubble bath together, perhaps a sensual massage...and see where things went from there. :-)

WTF? This grosses me out....sensual massage? Bubble bath together??? Letting me cook dinner? Um, try flowers, the Polo Lounge, some Tiffany's and THEN maybe you will get a blow job. Seriously, sensual massage?? Icky. Really grosses me out. Are guys into this kind of cheese, or is he just telling me what he thinks I want to hear? Granted, we have met on the Internet but I would be more interested if he said something along the lines of......

I would crack open a bottle of wine, crank some Zeppelin and fuck the shit out of you while I spank your ass and call you bitch.

At least THAT would show he has a pair. And good musical taste. I cannot date any man that I am more masculine than. Close match.

my summer vacation

I have been working a lot. A lot a lot. I am drop dead tired and I cannot help but wonder how on earth can I incorporate a life with my job. Impossible. My new little fuck buddy has been texting me for weeks and I continue to promise that we will hook up soon. I am lying. My job is awesome, I am important and have so much fun. This will sound conceited, but I know (I know that my boss knows too) that we are making due with one person in LA because I charm the pants off of our principals and customers. In my opinion, we should lose all of our lines. I cannot possibly do justice to them as one person in LA. I think we are cool because I am smart, get the meetings they want, book shit. It is some sort of fucking miracle.. Honestly, I think I am on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I feel the pressure. I haven't taken off any time since Christmas. I am going home at the end of September for a pseudo vacation. Wanna know what I am doing on my summer vacation? I am having a root canal and four cavities filled. Next, I am seeing the dermatologist. Finally, we will crown my vacation with a biopsy of my cervix. Cancer, ya! I cannot get laid WITH hair...can only imagine how hard it will be without hair and a drip bag of chemo. Good thing I have reserved a bunch of fat over the last couple of months. When I finish chemo, I am going to be all kinds of Kate Moss sorta hot.

I am unhappy and scared.

open letter to the dumbass NAACP head of Atlanta

hey kids, feel free to write this back woods douchebag as I did;

Mr. White,

I find your backing of Michael Vick shameful and your reasoning suspect. In your role as a mouthpiece for the NAACP your words hold power. You are accountable. This man’s actions do nothing to further African Americans or humanity as a whole. Dog fighting is a despicable act perpetrated on defenseless animals, outside the law in secrecy for profit. How can you defend this anti-social behavior? There is no comparison to hunting as those I know who hunt do not torture the animal, bet on the outcome of the hunt, breed animals for hunting (with rape stands!!), train the animal for hunting nor hide their activities (from both the law and the IRS.) Additionally, they do not kill the animals in unspeakable ways if they do not provide an appropriately challenging hunt. Hunters hunt and eat what they catch.

I am so sorry that you will be deprived of the “hours of enjoyment” Vick provides you as a professional athlete. I am sure that there are many brutal and sick people that lament they will be missing out on “hours of dog fighting enjoyment” as well. The blood, the carnage, the crazy way the losing dog “dances” when being shocked and tortured to death, the sound of crushing bones…..good family orientated times!

One would think that you might support more challenged and accomplished people. This guy won the life lottery because he could run and catch. He lives a privileged life which most of us covet. Vick chose to go down a path which is backward and disgusting by most standards. As you stated, “As a society, we should aid in his rehabilitation and welcome a new Michael Vick back into the community without a permanent loss in his career in football.” Part of rehabilitation is hitting the bottom. There are consequences to our actions and losing a multimillion dollar salary and lucrative endorsements seems about right for this one.

Is Vick up for the NAACP Image Award this year? I hope your irresponsible and ignorant position cost you your job as the head of the Atlanta NAACP. I am hopeful as it seems the NAACP is backing away from you and your idiotic position. Outrageous.

Shame on you!

douchebag's email addy is; 'rlwhite@atlantanaacp.org'

Get 'em Filthy and Gorgeous Posse!!!

Porn for Chicks

Nuf' said.

San Diego

I am exhausted and I am beginning another hell week of work. I spent the weekend with Boy Gorgeous exploring San Diego. He noted that the two of us, with a pile of cash in the Gas Lamp district is a very dangerous combination. Friday night, we went to the Del Mar racetrack to see one of my favorite bands play, Cake. It was crowded and expensive. We couldn't really see the band let alone hear them. Somewhat disappointing and I dropped $150 bucks. Awoke Saturday morning and went to breakfast....at 8am $2 bloody Mary's were sounding pretty good. We drank a couple of those, then proceeded to bar hop having a beer at each bar. We ended up at a place called the Bitter End. There was some kid there about to ship off to Iraq
(I seriously got emotional, he looked like a BABY) and we decided some shots of Petron were in order. In the meantime, the bartender was a raging BITCH. I made a joke about fist fighting BG after doing a shot and the bartender cut me off. It was a JOKE sister! She then went off on a long diatribe about what the responsibilities of being a professional bartender are and how seriously she takes them. To the Filthy and Gorgeous Posse; in the event I ever start taking myself that seriously, just bitch slap me. You aren't saving lives here lady! Of course, I began to get lippy, told BG that I would be tipping her .99 which was a waste of .99. She was the WORST bartender ever, and she overheard me saying so. We decided to bounce and as I was paying the bill, I felt a tap on my shoulder from security asking if I had a problem with the bill (which I was in the process of signing) and I said no, I had a problem with the bartender. He politely asked us to leave, funny because that was just what we were doing at the time. Dumb bitch cost herself a bit .99. They should call the bar the Bitter Bitch instead of the Bitter End. We began to walk back to where we were staying and the Petron started kicking in for both of us. We decided a nap was in order so we could meet Sexual Chocolate out later. We went back about 6pm and took a nap, waking up at 1:30 in the morning. We accidentally blew SC off for which I sincerely apologize. Sunday morning we went for breakfast when I tallied up the cost of the weekend; $80 dog sitter, $100 bucks train fare, $100 bucks cash gone, $150 bucks spent at Del Mar, $80 bucks at the Bitter Bitch, $400 lost sunglasses and there were some other various expenses along the way. Will have to pace myself on these San Diego weekends, my wallet and most importantly my liver, cannot handle too many of them. My diet starts today as well as my alcohol rehabilitation program.

I am this girl

If you haven't checked out this show yet, you should...Flight of the Conchords on HBO. Wow, do I identify with this chick. They call it a fly because it takes you up to heaven!!!

Guy Girl

I love men. Why I am still single is a measure of how well I understand them, not like them. Tonight, I was walking to the grocery store and there were lots of old men (saw Ed McMahon on my flight last night.) Wow. Old guys are really old. It was creepy as there were about five of them all hobbling in my general direction using various apparatus like walkers and canes. I had a flash of the scene from The Hunger when all of Catherine Deneuve's lovers escaped from their coffins and attacked her. I skedaddled as fast as my youthful legs could manage. The beginning of this week I was on a business trip with much younger men. I much prefer the company of a group of men to women. I know that is not very feminist of me, but it is true. There is a lot less bullshit when you are with a group of men. None of the games you find when in a group of women. Lots of ribbing and joking. Nobodies feelings get hurt. I am a "guy girl" which allows me to hang with guys. Initially they are politically correct and a bit skiddish around me but once the guys realize I have a thick skin (and most importantly, a sense of humor) they usually treat me as one of them. I cannot tell you how many bachelor parties and strip clubs I have been to. This is probably why I don't do well in relationships as I know ALL of the tricks. My friends INVENTED the tricks as the Filthy and Gorgeous posse includes many accomplished players. Being the guy girl that I am, I also defy what men expect. I show no emotion. I never cry. I have been called the Ice Princess by more than one boyfriend. I do not respond to tantrums. (You would be surprised how many seemingly adult men throw tantrums.) I cannot be bothered with responding to childish responses, I have said calmly, "you are a big boy. Use your words and stop swearing, yelling and throwing things." It honestly makes them insane that I refuse to engage on this emotionally charged level. I had a boyfriend that crushed the remote control in a hissy fit and I very calmly picked up our Christmas gifts we had just finished exchanging, opened the third story window dropped them watching them land in a blanket of fresh snow. I said something to the effect of, "if you are going to break things, why don't you really make a statement and break things that matter." He never did anything like that again so mission accomplished. The women I do hang out with are all similarly wired. No mushy gush here. The occasional, "I love you maaaaann!" when we are drunk. It is weird as it seems that we are all attracted to the more girly men.....emotional, possessive, demonstrative. It annoys us but I suppose it is the yin yang thing, we need them to balance us out even though they make us crazy. Still, I do enjoy my nights out with the boys; drinking, making lewd jokes, eating meat, blowing each other shit.......

Toxic Mold

Just an afternoon crumb....I don't know why I do these sorts of things to myself but I just looked at The Boy's MySpace page (remember when I searched through 500 pages to find his? Sigh, those were the days!) Evidentially he and his (ahem) "Ex" had a baby! Would have been nine months exactly from when we hooked up. I suppose I should thank him as I did not have a human child, but the Dating Misanthrope was born out of that night. So wherever you are, thanks shithead!

Can I have some Porno with that pie-oh?

I almost had a porno moment last night. I ordered pizza and told the delivery guy to call my cell when he got here. He called and told me he would be here in two minutes. I noted the time and intended to go down to the gate when he said he would be here. I heard him at the gate yelling, "hello! Pizza here!" and went down to collect my pie. He was a pretty hot Hispanic guy, heavily manscaped and very young. He looked a lot like Dave Navarro. Muscles bulging out from under his uniform. I said, " are you always this fast?" and he replied, "only when delivering pizzas. I take my time when I do other things." Our eyes locked and we had a moment. In my head I heard "bum chicka bao bao" playing. I wonder if that is why that kid took that job. Do men really think that the situations in porno could actually come true? Do they come true? I had a boyfriend that watched a lot of porn and I think it ruined actual sex for him as it never lived up to his expectations (by the way, he was a virgin and I popped his cherry. Kind of embarassing to admit you didn't live up to the expectations of a virgin. He looked like Fabio.) I also think that the kind of porn you look at says a lot about you. The Psycho liked REALLY filthy porn, a lot. When I looked at those pictures, they did NOTHING for me; trashy women with really huge boobs invariably shoving something weird into their deep cavernous hole. The pictures sort of grossed me out and thus, The Psycho by association. Don't get me wrong, I am not anti-porn. I find it interesting to see what people find titillating. Most interesting to me are the "stories" used as a venue to show these images. I mean, is that the best they can come up with? Pizza delivery guys, cops and the like? I think more women should get into writing/producing porn. Inside my head, the porn is much more interesting.

I am getting a gun

Being the general bitch/heartbreaker that I am I have to say I am greatly concerned by what I just discovered. I was looking for a phone number in the White Pages when I decided to search for myself and see what came up. My name, as clear as day with my home address. I know the Filthy and Gorgeous posse may find this shocking, but I have cut a path through some pretty crazy men in my day and there are some out there that would be more than happy to cut me up into little bits. One of them lives a mere five minute drive from here, is heavily medicated and has a gun. The last time I saw him he was trying to chop off my head with a tree lopper. As a single woman living alone this is frightening to me. Even though I live in a "secure" building I still have to go outside to get in my car, walk my dog, go to work.......In order to make it uber convienant for the psycho stalker, the White Pages directory links you directly to US Search so for ten bucks you can get any and all information on me. And you. I know I am not going to sleep well tonight.

Come sit with me boys!! XOXOXOX Betty