...but then, You're dealing with unbalanced women here!
Friday, December 4, 2015
Merry HaHaHa! Not your normal Christmas Greeting
...but then, You're dealing with unbalanced women here!
Sunday, November 8, 2015
Give It Up for THANKS!
Sunday, October 25, 2015
Sunday, September 20, 2015
Sunday, August 30, 2015
Sunday, August 9, 2015
match(dot)not.com
Um...a post script to this blog posting from 2012...I haven't had a date since...
Enjoy!
Okay, perhaps it was not the right thing to say on a first date, “Those aren’t your real top teeth, are they?” I shouldn’t have gone on when he answered, “No.” “Do you take them out at night and put them in a glass of water?” It was when he answered, “Yes” to that question that a very disturbing visual arose in my head, with the glass and the teeth and his top lip all sucked inward without his teeth. You’ve seen those photos, I know.
I fully expected him to turn tail and run, but, oh no! So, in order to continue to try to push him away, I made a perfectly innocent comment about his looks, “You look like a mobster...got the gold chain on...overly tanned...has anyone ever told you that?” He smiled with his overly-large, perfectly-shaped, gleamingly-white false teeth, gave me a creepy wink and said, “Yeah, actually they have.” “THEY?”
And, I should never have asked our server to take a photograph of us, although I wanted proof of the mess I’d gotten myself into through a dating site. I needed to show my friends what I was talking about when I was quizzed, post-date...”OMG! You wouldn’t believe it!” My silly request must have given him what he thought was a green light to sidle up to me, put his hand on my upper-inner (yes, I said, inner) thigh, turn to the camera and show his pearly whites.
After our server left, he stayed too closely ‘put,’ and began to discuss his sexual prowess, talents and knowledge of how to “make a woman happy.” If I had a nickel for every man who has said that to me, then missed the spot all together (sometimes for years on end), I’d be Bill-Gates-rich. While discussing his ‘strengths’ in this area, he actually leaned over and bit my neck!
By the way, I am not embellishing this experience one little bit, although it sounds like I’m making it all up, doesn’t it? As Sal has often said to me, “ANOTHER fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into!”
Can you women guess what happened when the check came? I thought it polite to say, “Shall we split that?” Now, here’s the confusion that all women our age experienced in the 60’s...free love, bras burning and equal rights does NOT mean that the woman should split the check! When she asks you that, it’s ONLY to be polite, and if you reply, “Sure,” as my date did...you just FLUNKED!
And, lest you judge me for my innocent remarks, he whispered in my ear as we left the bar, “You better stop all this, because I could REALLY start to like you.”
I have since removed my dating site profile. If it’s the single life for me henceforth...SO BE IT!! I’m carrying on regardless. He’ll find me. Oh Gawd!
KK
*****************************
3 things not to do when you go on a date with KK:
1. Put your hand between her thighs and wink.
2. Let her pick up her half of the check.
3. Bite her neck.
Sounds simple enough but…duh! This was the first date, asshole! Don’t put your hands all over the woman to where she feels like the goat at the petting zoo, for Godsakes don’t let her pay for anything, and then don’t, I repeat, don’t…bite her like she’s an apple in the dunking contest at the fucking carnival. Helloh! What were you thinking!
“Oh, she’ll love this; works every time…I’ll tell her that I know how to satisfy a woman in bed and that way she’ll go home with me tonight, fuck my brains out, and then make me some banana waffles for breakfast.” Are you kidding me?
Men, please! I’ve actually had dates do the exact same things to me, but never all three things in one date...and the first date. Even after KK emailed him and told him NO nicely, well, as nicely as KK can say such a thing, he kept calling her and texting her saying that if she would just meet with him as a friend..’you never know what could happen from there.’ KK finally just ate 17 oyster shooters at The Sand Bar and cancelled her subscription to match(dot)com, unfriended him on facebook, and put a Mickey Mouse bandaid over the teeth marks on her neck.
Seriously, guys, get a clue, hint, or crash course on how we ladies like to be treated. Buy some flowers, order the most expensive thing on the menu and then leave a big tip for that waitress that you both noticed is really a man. Tell a woman that she is really pretty, offer to take her to dinner on your yacht, and then… fix that pesky plumbing problem in her guest bathroom toilet.
If you do that last thing, she will be yours forever.
SalGal
Thursday, July 9, 2015
Gratification...Delayed vs. Instant
I could probably go three or four days without french fries...I’m sure I could. I think that’s delayed gratification, but, don’t dare me. And, I like the really soft, greasy kind that bend like...a stick of licorice. I’d rather eat french fries than the burgers that accompany them, frankly. I’m not into sweets...give me potatoes and watch me smile.
People who clean receive instant gratification. I receive the same gratification when I hand them the money to clean, thus giving me a similar sensation but without the groundwork involved. As some of you know, I do like to sweep, but should the wind come along, my gratification is delayed as I curse under my breath until the next time I attempt to brush away the refuse in my life. I get twitchy when I see a pile of leaves on the deck but can be persuaded to forestall any efforts toward that chore if tempted by french fries.
I am gratified at the site and taste of a perfectly shaken martini. That can be both instant and delayed...instant with the first sip that is always the best and the delicious ribeye that follows is delayed until after I gratify myself with the second martini. I call that a win/win, especially if the steak has a side dish of pommes frites.
Waiting for a loved one to arrive at the airport is delayed gratification, but being with that person for about thirty minutes can sometimes make you look forward to the instant gratification that comes along with their wave goodbye. Then it’s off to Sonic for a small order of, you guessed it...fries.
Gawd, I must be hungry or something, huh?? Don’t even get me started on how I feel about au gratin, mashed or escalloped!
KK
********************************************************************
GRATIFICATION
Instant gratification for me involves the following:
Petting a cat
Eating a Frito pie
Singing
Drinking a martini
Smelling a gardenia
Kissing
A cool shower on a hot day
Delayed gratification is different. It involves waiting. It involves anticipation and angst.
Winning the lottery
Meeting Mr. Right
Auditioning for Martin Scorcese
I have come to realize that my whole life was one long journey into gratification. Talk about delayed. Sheesh. I always put my head down and went to work. I sold kitchen ware, worked as a messenger and cast actors in major motion pictures for twenty five years. The latter gave a sense of importance and I enjoyed the prestige but it never took me anywhere. Certainly not to any kind of gratification. It was all just one mind-numbing attempt after another at paying the rent as time went on and I got older and more fed up with working for assholes.
It’s been a long haul but this old eighteen-wheeler now knows the way from here to there. It turns out the ‘there’ is what makes you happy, drives you to be driven, and makes you laugh until your mascara runs and you have to re-do your make-up. A happy problem. The ‘there’ is where you are now. My ‘there’ is making mischief with my sister, putting peanut butter on my cat’s tongue and telling the truth about what lies beneath a middle-aged woman’s polite, don’t-fuck-with-me smile.
I have reached Nirvana, and it is called self-gratification. It has finally allowed me to give all of myself to my life. It was a long time coming but having all of me present makes me able to accept my foibles, order a wine and know how to taste it properly, and make my sister double over and spit out her coffee with laughter.
I plan those moments when I can do that with her and my friends…or even strangers. It’s a form of delayed gratification.
SalGal
People who clean receive instant gratification. I receive the same gratification when I hand them the money to clean, thus giving me a similar sensation but without the groundwork involved. As some of you know, I do like to sweep, but should the wind come along, my gratification is delayed as I curse under my breath until the next time I attempt to brush away the refuse in my life. I get twitchy when I see a pile of leaves on the deck but can be persuaded to forestall any efforts toward that chore if tempted by french fries.
I am gratified at the site and taste of a perfectly shaken martini. That can be both instant and delayed...instant with the first sip that is always the best and the delicious ribeye that follows is delayed until after I gratify myself with the second martini. I call that a win/win, especially if the steak has a side dish of pommes frites.
Waiting for a loved one to arrive at the airport is delayed gratification, but being with that person for about thirty minutes can sometimes make you look forward to the instant gratification that comes along with their wave goodbye. Then it’s off to Sonic for a small order of, you guessed it...fries.
Gawd, I must be hungry or something, huh?? Don’t even get me started on how I feel about au gratin, mashed or escalloped!
KK
********************************************************************
GRATIFICATION
Instant gratification for me involves the following:
Petting a cat
Eating a Frito pie
Singing
Drinking a martini
Smelling a gardenia
Kissing
A cool shower on a hot day
Delayed gratification is different. It involves waiting. It involves anticipation and angst.
Winning the lottery
Meeting Mr. Right
Auditioning for Martin Scorcese
I have come to realize that my whole life was one long journey into gratification. Talk about delayed. Sheesh. I always put my head down and went to work. I sold kitchen ware, worked as a messenger and cast actors in major motion pictures for twenty five years. The latter gave a sense of importance and I enjoyed the prestige but it never took me anywhere. Certainly not to any kind of gratification. It was all just one mind-numbing attempt after another at paying the rent as time went on and I got older and more fed up with working for assholes.
It’s been a long haul but this old eighteen-wheeler now knows the way from here to there. It turns out the ‘there’ is what makes you happy, drives you to be driven, and makes you laugh until your mascara runs and you have to re-do your make-up. A happy problem. The ‘there’ is where you are now. My ‘there’ is making mischief with my sister, putting peanut butter on my cat’s tongue and telling the truth about what lies beneath a middle-aged woman’s polite, don’t-fuck-with-me smile.
I have reached Nirvana, and it is called self-gratification. It has finally allowed me to give all of myself to my life. It was a long time coming but having all of me present makes me able to accept my foibles, order a wine and know how to taste it properly, and make my sister double over and spit out her coffee with laughter.
I plan those moments when I can do that with her and my friends…or even strangers. It’s a form of delayed gratification.
SalGal
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