Christmas Tree Update!

So, you guys recall that I was whining about how half the lights on my tree went out. Well, I bought a ton of both multi-colored lights and warm white lights (LED so they’ll last for at least a few years) and I fixed her up!

Yay! Now the tree isn’t a sad little Charlie Brown tree anymore. It’s all kinds of lit up. I think, in total, there are 1400 lights on it.

I know…whacko…

ChristmasTreeNewLights2014

And in case you are thinking that I am also insane for all of those presents (they are all from me to family and I’m not even done wrapping yet) know that some of them cost about $2.00. We just like to unwrap stuff at Christmas, so one of those presents is a 6 pack of Charmin with a $5 bill taped to it for my mom.

What can I say…clearly we are all nuts.

Love you guys! XOXOXOXOX

Nooooooooooo! The Beginning of the End.

Well, it’s confirmed.

I’m older than Methuselah!

And I’m able to document when my ancient-ness started to the exact day. How many people can say that?

So, there I am, putting on a little makeup before the man gets home so that I don’t rival the Crypt Keeper for ugliest freak show on earth and I see something in my eyebrow.

“What on earth is that?” I ask myself.

Then I flip the mirror around to the 10x magnification side (eeeee gawds, don’t ever do that!) and saw this monstrosity:

Eyebrow from Hell 2014What in the ever-loving hell is that?

Who ever heard of such a hideous thing?

Half luxurious black. Half Jodi-is-old-as-dirt gray.

What the fuck????????

I’m too young for this!

Oh, and add to the grayness the fact that that eyebrow hair is 300 feet long.

It looks like a 90-year-old man’s nose hair.

Hmmm…what shall I do to cheer myself up?

I’m thinking a splurge of pizza for dinner.

Yep, that’ll heal what ails me.

:)

Hope you guys are having a good week! XO

 

 

It’s time to get down and get funky! (Updated! Yay!)

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No, I don’t mean to roll in the dirt and get smelly! Though that does sound like fun. ;)

I mean that tonight I’m going to be on LA Talk Radio! The show is called Modern Male Radio and starts at 8pm Pacific time, 11pm Eastern. Woo hoo!

And is it going to be a show!

UPDATE: Here’s the link to listen to the show: KICK ASS YAPPING. Wow, they are fast! Listen to the one dated September 18th, 2014.

Senior Citizen Sex

Not only is it hosted by an incredible author and man about town, Jarod Zavistoski (he’s great!), but co-hosting is Nick Hawk from the Showtime TV show Gigolos.

We’re going to dish about all things relationshippy and how to have more luscious nookie and happy intimacy.

Can’t go wrong with that. Well, unless you hate sex and don’t like people to be nice to you.

If that’s the case, ummmmm…yeah…I got nothin’! ;)

Click HERE or on the pic below to get to LA Talk Radio’s site.

Listen in, my wonderful peeps. We’ll have a great time!

XOXOXOX

My Internal Dialogue While Being Tortured

WARNING!

If you don’t care for terrifically prolific cussing, walk away from your computer right now. This one is going to be a doozie! ;)

So, you guys know I love me a good massage. I live for them really. I’d marry a massage if I could. And I have an amazing therapist, Grayson, who rules the school. But before I met Grayson, I’d bought a Groupon for a 90-minute massage somewhere else and I got it today.

Upon arrival and meeting him, I told him that normally I’m pretty tough but that I was super sore from having to dump about 150 buckets of water away from my house’s foundation earlier in the week due to all the insane flooding. (Almost 6 inches of rain in less than 24 hours!) As such, I asked him to go super easy on me because everything hurt. He said to just let him know if the pressure was too much or too little and he’d adjust. So far, so good.

I strip, get up on the table, he comes in and the very first thing he does is push on my back SO FUCKING HARD that my poor boobies smash into the table (ummm…sir, the table is fucking hard and my DD boobs ain’t got nowhere to go). And that’s how the internal dialog began. Prepare yourself.

Action: Boob smashing

Internal Dialogue: WHAT THE SHIT! OUCH! Only a man who has no boobs would smash a woman who obviously has tremendous ta-tas into a table with the force of 3 gorillas. Dip shit.

 

Action: Digging his bony-ass fingers (similar in appearance and pain-dealing to the Grim Reaper’s) into what I’m pretty sure was bone and not muscle in my shoulder blade.

Internal Dialogue: FUCKING FUCK FUCK FUCKITY FUCK THAT HURTS!

External Dialogue: Can you please reduce the pressure you’re using. I’m quite sore from earlier this week and that hurts. I’d really appreciate it.

Result: Applied more pressure because I’m sure his internal dialogue was, “Fuck you lady, I do what I want.” (In the voice of Cartman from South Park, of course.)

 

Interim Action: 10 more minutes of excruciating pain from which there is no salvation.

 

Action: More digging of his pain-inflicting finger knives into the small of my back and around to my sides.

Internal Dialogue: YOU ARE FUCKING MASSAGING MY KIDNEYS! WHY? WHY GOD? WHY? OUCH. DIE YOU MOTHER FUCKER! DIE.

External Dialogue: Would you mind going lighter, please? Like I said, I’m really sore so I’m a bit more delicate than I’d usually be.

Result: Not only did he continue to massage my fucking kidneys through bone, muscle or whatever the fuck is between a kidney and your skin, I’m pretty sure he used a dull, rusty pocket knife to actually remove one. Possibly for sale on the black market.

 

Interim Action: 15 more minutes of, honest to God, abject misery. Shouldn’t a massage therapist inherently know that when their client is making a fist over and over again and making squeaky “I’m clearly dying” noises AND has asked him multiple times to use less pressure, that they should STOP FUCKING KILLING THEIR CLIENT????

 

Action: Uncovers the back of my thigh (which I specifically mentioned before we started was incredibly sore) and takes those daggers he calls fingers and starts strumming my hamstring like he’s playing the fiddle in The Devil Went Down to Georgia. Seriously, like the freedom of his soul depended on tearing out my hamstring and tying a bow with it.

Internal Dialog: THAT FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKING HURTS!!!! You Hitler mother fucker. Did you get your license JUST TO TORTURE people? Did you wake up this morning, throw a dart at your schedule and decide, “Yep, it’s Jodi Ambrose today. I’m going to make her wish she died in a violent car accident on her way here. Heh heh heh (insert creepy, evil laugh).”

External Dialog: Seriously, you gotta lighten up on me. Just pretend I’m an arthritic 90-year-old with osteoporosis and a low threshold for pain.

Result: NOT ONE MOTHER FUCKING OUNCE OF LESSENING UP ON THE HORROR!!!! Not even a little. NONE. WHAT THE EVER-LOVING FUCK?

 

Interim Action: More abject misery. Me trying to figure how to get the fuck outta there without jumping off the table and having my ta-tas flying all over the place and my ass shining up in the air. Me wishing his balls would rot off in a leprosy kind of way. Me wondering why in the hell I haven’t freaked out more on this fuckhead. Me thinking that somehow all this “deep tissue” fuckin’ nightmare will, in the end, be good for my aching muscles. Me praying for a meteor to fly down from Heaven and kill both him and me immediately (preferably just him, but I figure a meteor would be too big to target just him–I’d be collateral damage and I’d be okay with that).

 

Action: Asks me to flip over onto my back. Then asks me if I want my pectorals massaged.

Internal Dialog: If you even think of touching my tits I’m gonna fucking brain you with a hammer. You got that, old man? YOU FUCKIN’ HEAR ME??? I’LL KILL YOU AND YOUR WHOLE FAMILY!

External Dialog: No, thank you.

Result: I did not have to kill the mother fucker because he did not touch boobies. Hence, I am not covered in blood and being processed by the police. I think of that as a win/win.

 

So, finally, this God-forsaken nightmare comes to a close. I asked him no less than 8 times to ease up. He literally NEVER did until the last 5 minutes–I’m guessing because that’s when he’s starting to think about what kind of tip I’m going to give him and he wants to go out on a high note. Well, here’s a tip, you fuck-headed fuck fuck: Don’t ever let me see you crossing the street when I’m driving.

There’s my saga du jour. I was soooooo looking forward to getting all of my sore muscles rubbed out. Now I need a Vicodin and another massage to survive the one I just PAID GOOD MONEY to endure.

I’m going to go with pain being a character builder in order to find a silver lining. But in my deepest, darkest and not-so-private thoughts, all I can think is, “You are very fucking lucky that real life isn’t like that movie The Purge where murder is legal for a day. You’d be at the top of my list, fuck face.”

With that, I’m off to fry up a bagel and watch me some Project Runway!!

Have a great weekend everyone! :) XOXOXO

The “It takes 3 minutes to make a delicious dessert” Recipe

TGIMFS! Yes, that’s my spin on TGIF with a few extra choice words chucked in. ;)

Here’s another bit of yum for you guys this weekend!

Move over fancy schmancy desserts that take 19 hours and 4 chefs to make.

I have something even better.

But you have to visit the awesome and amazing Bernadette at Rants from My Crazy Kitchen to get the recipe!

That lovely lady has just posted my second recipe designed to let you spend less time cooking and more time enjoying your holiday weekend.

It’s sooooooooooo yummy! It has 4 ingredients. That’s my kind of cooking.

And while I took many wonderful pictures of this batch of yumminess, I forgot to put my stupid memory card into my camera. Can we all say it at the same time? “Duh….” What a dumbass I am! Yep, wiping the drool off my chin right now.

Anyway, I procured a picture that’s similar to what this delicious concoction looks like when finished. Here it is. SLURP!

Pineapple Cherry Dump Cake

Just imagine a bit of pineapple at the bottom of the rest of the lip-smacking goodness and there you have it.

Okay, so time to go over and get the recipe.

Check it out HERE.

It’s also in my cookbook, Darn Good Eats, so if you have that, you have the recipe whenever you want it.

Enjoy!

Have a great weekend! Love you guys!

 

img credit: tammileetips.com

 

Mmmmmmmacaroni Salad Yumminess!

Hot damn! The lovely Bernadette from Rants from My Crazy Kitchen is posting 2 guest posts from me this week with some easy and delicious food you can make for Labor Day (for those of you in the US).

For the rest of you, it’s still dang good yum yums!

You may recognize her from both her awesome blog and she contributed 2 recipes to my cookbook Darn Good Eats.

Go check out the first recipe by clicking HERE.

Then later in the week she’ll post the dessert recipe.

HUGS!

My Very Favorite Thing

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I would like to introduce you all to my favorite thing on earth (save for things that breathe).

Drum roll please….

(Yes, you can click below to hear an actual drum roll. Yes, because I’m a doofus!)

 

Pink Teddy

I LOVE MY PINK TEDDY!

Yeah, I know. I’m creative with my naming conventions. And, believe it or not, she used to be pink.

Now she’s more the color of dirt, sweat, dust mites and other things that you find in a bed. EWWWWW!!! Poor little Pink Teddy! She’s seen (and participated in) things much worse than Car Teddy.

The hubby tells me that the reason my skin has stayed so nice, even though I never wash my face or take off my makeup, is that all the mites run off her while we sleep, crawl up onto my face and eat off all the dirt and makeup. It’s like microdermabrasion via teddy bugs! Yep, I am so gross!

I’ve had my beloved Pink Teddy for about 36 years or so and have slept with her almost every single night of those close to 4 decades.

She’s been with me to the beach, to the lake, and all across the country. I remember running into one of my former bosses at the airport once and her head was sticking up out of my backpack. He was like, “WTF is that?” I figure he travels with his golf clubs. I travel with my Pink Teddy. I consider that a draw. ;)

Here she is with my sister and me on my first day of college in 1988!

Jodi Becky College 1988

She used to be soft and plush. Now…well…you can see for yourself.

I finally got her a little furry coat for a baby and put it on her to help protect her remaining fur. She’s shockingly not thread-bare yet, but she was getting close. Now she kinda looks like a gangster teddy. I love that about her.

I love so much about her really. Not only is she smushed in just the right way to fit into my chest perfectly as I sleep, but she’s seen me through every dark day I’ve ever had. And every wonderful one, too. I can look at her and see how over the years she, like me, has become a bit rough around the edges. She has plenty of scars to show she’s endured for a very long time and has seen a lot of things.

While you may shiver in slight horror over her rather beat up countenance, it’s one of the things I love so much about her. And I also think it’s one of the things that helps me understand that growing older and getting those rough edges is actually a wonderful thing.

I look at my precious teddy and I know we’ve been through a hell of a lot together, but we’ve both survived. She’s my little inspiration and I’m so happy that a million years ago my parents got her for me for Christmas. She was immediately my favorite and while I have hundreds of teddies that I love, she’s the one cuddled into me every night.

Thank the good Lord I’m a hell cat in bed or I don’t know if my men over the years would have taken so well to her intruding in the boudoir.  ;)

I was mauled and I liked it!

Good gracious God…I just got a massage so good that I almost feel like I cheated on the hubby!!! It felt so good that I kept wanting to burst out giggling but I worried he’d think I was being inappropriate.

Massage

I’ve had many, many massages over the years. And while you may think, “Oh you spoiled rotten brat!” I actually get them for their medicinal value. (Though I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t my favorite thing next to awesome nookie and chocolate cake!)

But today…ahh…today. I got the most amazing massage. It was just about full-body contact for goodness sake! It was bonkers and it was amazing and I’m stunned I can type because I’m a big puddle of goo right now. And I’m like an oil slick. It’s awesome. When I took off my shoes I was able to essentially ice skate across the floor cause my feet are so oiled up. Bliss!

My massage therapist had hands like baseball mitts, but used his forearms most of the time so it was like getting rubbed by someone with 18 inch hands. Totally delish.

And, he’d rub my back while I was laying ON my back. Doesn’t that sound nuts? He oiled me up and put his hands and arms between me and the massage table and let the weight of my body add extra pressure. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. I could have stayed on that table for 9 hours. He had me so twisted up like a pretzel sometimes that it’s a miracle he didn’t see my naughty bits. Luckily, he was a consummate professional.

If you’ve never gotten a massage, or love them and want another one, fly to Arizona and come lay on his table. It’s worth the flight! ;)

Okay, so this was the most pointless post ever, but I just had to share. I feel half-drunk with pleasure! :) If only I were rich…I’d do that shit everyday!! :)

Why Was I Talking About Dipping Your Wick Into Places It Doesn’t Belong? Ah ha! The Answer At Last!

Hello, all my lovelies!

About a month ago I posted a poll on whether or not you guys thought it was a betrayal to seek sexual satisfaction from real, live people outside of your relationship via phone or computer.

A big thanks to all of you for your thoughtful responses and poll answering.

It was so hard for me not to spew my opinion all over the place when I wrote that post, but I didn’t want to sway anyone’s thoughts on the matter before they had a chance to comment or vote. Of course now, I’m nothin’ but sass mouth on the topic!! ;)

In case you’re wondering, I used the info from that poll to write my latest article for The Acquiring Man magazine.

If you voted or just wanna see the article, click HERE or on the pic below (dang, that chick is hot!).

acquiring man is it cheating

PS: there is one typo in the article that is repeated 4 times that is making my brain itch! But the editor is going to fix them. He added the line because it’s a great summary of the article–I should have included it myself, so I’m glad he added it in. But as you guys know, I can be a grammar nazi, so forgive the missing apostrophe for now. :)

Your opinion on virtually sticking “it” places it don’t belong! :)

Howdy!

I hope everyone is having a good week. Thanks the good Lord it’s almost Friday. I swear my brain stopped working around 11am today and I’m about done for. ;)

So, I want to reach out to you guys to answer my poll. I’ve had so many people talk to me lately about how their marriages or long-term relationships are being smashed to pieces because one of the partners is engaging in romantic/sexual play with people online.

It may be serious flirting over chat or the phone.sexy girl texting It may be sexting with or without photos. It may be Skyping in an inappropriate way with someone else. It could be participating in live-action “tell me what to do, baby” video porn.

Without speaking my mind on the subject (which I’ll do soon enough) I want to know what you think.

Here’s the premise:

Do you think it is a betrayal if your significant other is finding sexual satisfaction from another person via the phone or internet?

Poll for the ladies: If your man was being sexual with another woman online, would you consider it a betrayal?

 

Poll for the gentlemen: If your woman was being sexual with another man online, would you consider it a betrayal?

 

Thanks so much for taking the time to respond. You guys kick ass!

As soon as your thoughtful responses are collected, I’ll let you see why they were so important.

Hugs!