Favor? Pretty please with sugar on top?

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TGIMFF!!! (Yeah, TGIF just doesn’t capture how happy I am that it’s Friday!) The hubby and I are doing a double feature tomorrow. First, Pain and Gain. Any suggestions for movie number 2?

As for the favor, I’m wondering if those of you who I sent complimentary copies of my books to, or who got in on the $.99 Kindle/Nook book special, would do me a favor? If you got the books and enjoyed them, can you pretty please leave a delicious review of them on Amazon? I hate to even ask, but I’d be super grateful. After Amazon went bonkers last year and deleted tons of reviews off of everyone’s books including mine (I will still never understand why they did that), it appears that hardly anyone has read my books when they actually do quite well. It was so devastating to go from having tons of all 5-star reviews (except 1 from someone who liked the content but not my slightly naughty mouth ;) ) to having almost no reviews at all. Absolutely heartbreaking. pretty please kitty

I heard back from tons of you via email on how much you laughed or how yummy the food was–and was so delighted by your wonderful stories, but it would be great to see that wonderful commentary on Amazon too. And just so you know, it doesn’t have to be a tome. It could literally be one happy sentence and I’d be thrilled. I’d really appreciate it, my lovely blog buddies, if you’d help me out with this. And if you don’t want to or didn’t like the books, I totally understand and don’t feel like you have to leave a review–no pressure. I just thought I’d ask those of you who did enjoy them or got a good chuckle out of them to leave a review.

If you do decide to post a review (for any or all books), just click on the pictures below and it’ll take you right to the book’s Amazon page.

Thanks so much, guys! I really appreciate it! Love you!

Book Cover Small  New Intimacy Book Cover Small with black border 1-20-13        New Sex Book Cover 225 pixels wide black outline

Kitty says, “To all of you who’ve already left reviews, thank you! Mommy and I love you!!!”

happy kitty

To all the Smokes I’ve loved before…

…you can go suck it because I beat you!!!!

I am SO PROUD OF MYSELF!!!

I’ve been more stressed the last few weeks (as you guys know) then I’ve been in a looooooong time. And even though hari kari was calling my name and I kept eyeballing the shotgun and taser, I managed to NOT SMOKE even a single drag!!!

It’s been 4 months, 28 days and 9 hours since I had a puff on a cigarette (not that I’m counting). Yay!! And it was TEMPTING!! That night my sister was my superhero and I sat in my car crying and screaming on the phone to her, there was a pack of unopened smokes just sitting in my glovebox. I keep them there to prove to myself that I don’t need them. And it worked.

Quitting cold turkey after smoking since I was 14 (with a few breaks here and there) wasn’t the easiest thing I’ve ever done, but I’m so excited that I managed to say no to the Yummy Sticks. Yes, I call them Yummy Sticks. Honest to God, smoking is one of my very favorite things on earth. I almost never drink (maybe 2-3 glasses of wine a year), I don’t do drugs (unless you count Valium to go to the dentist) and so smoking was my deliciously wicked vice. Now I have no vices! I can’t even be a slut cause I’m a married old broad. KIDDING! I never was much for the slutty behavior (but I love me some sluts, so if you are slutty I love your slutty ass).

For those of you who have been or who are smokers, you know exactly what I’m talking about. For those of you who have never been smokers, you are truly blessed to not know the misery of not being able to light up. I’ve heard quitting smoking compared to giving up the needle and it doesn’t surprise me one bit!

See, here’s my best friend and me enjoying a nice, yummy smoke after a delicious dinner a couple of years ago. We look so joyful and happy to be alive! Ahh…the good ole days…

So that everyone out there understands why I used to like smoking so much (and I will again if I’m ever terminally ill, dammit!!!!) I’m going to put a little video clip here from the TV show Frasier. This scene PERFECTLY describes what is so tantalizing about a cigarette.

The whole clip is funny, but if you skip ahead to about 1:06 (the clip’s about 3 minutes long) you’ll get to the heart of the true smoker’s dream.

Enjoy! And NEVER start smoking if you aren’t a smoker now. Why put yourself through the hell of quitting? It totally sucks balls. :)

XOXOXO

Online Dating Kicks Ass–if you use your brain and are honest!

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I’m not sure how many of you know this, but I met my hubby online over 5 1/2 years ago. I never thought I’d online date, especially back in 2007 when it was still sort of new and not many people I knew had done it, but I thank God every day that I did.

Here’s how it went down (warning: I’m going to sound like a snobby bitch here in just a moment, but remember, online dating had a less-than-good reputation back in 2007). I was working at a place where I traveled 4 weeks a month. Yep. I stayed home only 4-6 weeks a year. It was HELL!  So, I was in NY on a business trip training a bunch of new hires alongside a more seasoned trainer (I’d only been with the company for about a month) and they were all making fun of me for being single (fairly newly divorced). I didn’t care for all the making fun of me. I’m usually pretty good about laughing at myself, but having 10 people give me shit for being single every day for 4 days was a bit annoying. Finally, I tried to explain. First, I’m NEVER HOME! How the hell am I supposed to meet anyone when I’m on the road every week? Second, I’m not a fan of what we in AZ call “Scottsdale boys” or “$35,000 millionaires.” If some guy tells me (lies to me about) how much he makes and what kind of car he drives within 5 minutes of meeting me (while living in a one bedroom apartment with 10 other guys so he can afford the drinks in the fancy Scottsdale clubs), then I have no interest. I’m not that cheap and you can’t buy me on a first date. Sorry, there’s a street in downtown Phoenix if you are looking for that–and, she won’t expect a call the next day!

Back to NY. Finally, they asked me if I’d tried online dating (here comes the slightly bitchy moment). I said, “Um, no. I think I can get a date without going online.” OUCH!!! Every time I think about saying that I wanna kick myself. It’s not at all like me. I think I was just annoyed at being harassed about being single all week, so I was a little snappy. Well, swat my ass–it turned out that EVERY person in the room met their significant other online. What is the chance of that? Statistically speaking, back in 2007, the likelihood of that happening was slim to none. So, after pulling my bitchy, short-tempered foot outta my mouth, I said, “Okay. I’ll do it. I’ll sign up tonight.” And I did!

I went back to my hotel (slum) and wrote up my online profile on match.com. And I did not fuck around. I told it like it is. I remember when my sister read my profile she gently suggested that I might want to temper it a bit as it was pretty blunt (bless her heart for trying to help her Sissy out) but I told her that if a man couldn’t handle me in writing that there was NO way he could handle me in person. Trust me, that mouth of mine is even mouthier face to face! I remember saying that I didn’t want to lure anyone to my table under false pretenses because then when they met the real Jodi they might freak. I did not want freaking–though I met a fair share of freaks!

Here are a few things I learned about online dating before I found the love of my life:

  1. Read between the lines and make sure to analyze their word choice. You can learn a lot about a person by paying attention to how they phrase sentences. Do they use a lot of negative words? Positive words? Too many positive words? Do they not respond to questions you ask? Do they get too sexual too fast? If they make you uncomfortable in an email, it ain’t gonna get any better in person.
  2. While you may start off politely responding “no” to everyone that emails you, you’ll eventually give up on that (probably). At first, I thought it would be horribly rude to not respond to every email. Then I realized that some of the people who emailed me were clearly sending form letters that they’d created so that they wouldn’t have to personalize emails to every girl they wanted to bang. Ummmm…no. If you can’t invest 10 minutes in drafting a personalized email to someone you’d like to meet, then you can go blow.
  3. If you are a girl, I recommend letting guys come to you. I know that sounds old fashioned, and it is, but when you reach out to a guy through online dating they often misconstrue it as you being an easy target for wham bam thank ya ma’am. Not ALL guys are like that. But on a dating site a lot of them are. I prefer to let them approach me so that they don’t get the impression that they’re getting laid halfway through dinner on our first date. NOT!
  4. Be picky! Just because they ask does not mean you have to say yes. If they are jerky when you say no, then just imagine how much jerkier they likely are to be in “real” life. Screw that.
  5. Cyber stalk them before going on a date. I know, I know…that sounds awful. But I met more than one guy whose best friends were Photoshop and a 10 year old picture. Ummmm…not cool, mo fo. Not cool. (I don’t say that to be shallow. I say it because if someone lies from the get-go, that isn’t a good sign.) So, see if they have a Facebook page or Twitter. Do a Google search. A little research in this day and age is not a bad thing. A girl (and guy) must be smart and safe.
  6. Tell at least 3 people where you are going and with whom. Give them as much info as possible. Sneak a pic of your date if you can so if they find your corpse in a ditch a month from now, your phone will have a picture of the last person you saw alive. Yeah…grim! ;)

So, how did my dating go? Here’s a synopsis of the online dating misery I primarily experienced:

  1. First guy met me at happy hour. He looked nothing like his pic. He started our date by telling me about his other Match.com dates. I felt so special! Yep, great way to begin. Then he went on to tell me he was the victim of a criminal chick duo he met on Match. Long story short: 2 girls showed up for the date instead of one. He was excited because he thought it was his lucky night for a threesome (charming to hear on a first date). They took him out then took him to their lair (cheap hotel). They tried to knock him out and take his wallet but he got away from them and then, and I quote, “Kicked their assess all over the room.” Yep. I wanna date a man who beats up women even after he’s escaped their evil clutches. He got away from them. He didn’t need to go back in and beat them up–he did it “to teach them a lesson.” I left halfway through the appetizers.
  2. Second guy had no teeth. I mean seriously. No teeth. Maybe one molar. Now, as a broken-tooth nightmare myself I understand tooth issues. But NO teeth!? I could barely understand a word he said. I thought I was being punked by Ashton Kutcher.
  3. Third guy was a HOT FBI agent. Damn he was good lookin’! But I made an ass of myself and we never went out again. While we were having dinner he asked me if I wanted to go to the bathroom. I thought that was such an odd question. Did he have some supernatural connection to my bladder? It wasn’t talking to me, was it talking to him? Only when I got home did I look in the mirror and realize that one of my hair extensions had escaped my head and was hanging off my arm (long story as to why I wore them and I don’t anymore, thank God). Talk about embarrassing!!! Clearly, he didn’t like chicks who wore other people’s hair. Oh well, we had opposite political views anyway. It wouldn’t have worked. Still…stupid hair extension!! Totally humiliating!
  4. Fourth guy I went on about 6 dates with until we went out for the 4th of July on his friend’s boat. They thought it would be funny to fly the boat across the lake at top speed and then do a super sharp turn, which sent me flying and bloodied my face, just to see if I was up for a good time and was a cool chick. Good time? GOOD TIME? You guys actually planned to hurt me (they held on to handles as they knew what was coming so they didn’t go flying across the entire boat and smash their faces into the back of the captain’s chair–ASSHOLES!) to see if I’d pass the “cool chick” test???? Fuckheads. Then he had the balls to email ME and tell me that I was a primadonna princess because I didn’t join them in cleaning up all the empty beer cans on the boat (of which I had exactly zero). Oh, don’t forget, they bloodied my face! Why the fuck would I clean up after them? About a year later he sent me the longest email apologizing for his behavior. Apparently he was in a “misogynistic” phase after a bad divorce. Then DON’T DATE GIRLS YOU DUMB FUCK ASS HAT!!!

Finally, I was like, screw this, I’m done. I stayed on Match.com until October but didn’t go out on any more dates. Ugh. Then one night, while in Chicago on business, I was forced to go to dinner with this wretched bitch from work who I hated. Longest dinner of my life. But thank God for it because by the time I got back to the hotel it was late, but I was determined to cancel my Match.com membership. I logged in and as I was about to cancel one last email popped into my inbox. I read it. Turns out the short and charming email was from my future husband!

Had I not gone to dinner with bitchface, I’d have canceled my membership before he had a chance to email me. Talk about God intervening because he knows what’s best.

So, why did his email stand out from the rest? He addressed a rather unusual comment from my profile (which few had done). And he didn’t give me a single compliment. It was all about personality. I loved it. I emailed him back and we continued to email for 7 hours until we were both ready to pass out from exhaustion and half-broken typing fingers. It was AWESOME!

We met 2 days later for our first date and it’s been just the two of us from that day forward. One of the things he liked so much about me was that my profile was full of spunk and turned out not to contain even one lie (though at the time I wrote my profile I’d just quit smoking and listed myself as a non-smoker, but by the time I met him I’d started again–so that was a bit misleading, but he smoked too so it wasn’t an issue. I’d simply not thought about updating my profile when I lit up again–never crossed my mind.). One of the things I learned about him over time was that his profile was 98% true (and the other 2% wasn’t a lie–it was just slightly fuzzy).

Moral of the story? Be honest on your profile. If you are looking for a one-eyed, 6’2″ man with a vestigial tail, then list that. If you don’t put out there who you are and what you really want, chances are you won’t find it easily.

One more moral? Use pics that look like you. The future hubby’s pics made him look mean, but his profile didn’t read as mean at all so I took a chance. Turns out there’s not a mean bone in his body, even if he did look a little grumpy in the pics.

Before he and I canceled our accounts, I grabbed screenshots of our profiles. I’m going to put them here for you to read (yeah, mine’s long–shocking!). I love rereading them every couple of years. They always make me giggle.

For those of you out there in search of love–much luck to you!!! I kissed a frog or two along the way, but it was worth it since it led me to the love of my life. I wish the same blessing on all of you!!!!

Jodis Match Profile

Grants Match Profile

Good luck to all my single peeps out there!!! :) XOXOXO

Upcoming post and KICK ASS COOKBOOK REVIEW!!!

Okay, so I’m halfway through writing my new post–dedicated to online dating–and I get an email about a blog post reviewing my cookbook, Darn Good Eats. I’m so freaking excited about this review that I saved my online dating post into MS Word (cause you KNOW how easy it is to lose a post on WordPress by accident) and had to do a quick post sending you to her page. She not only blogged her review, but put it up on Amazon and Goodreads. I’m all verklempt!! What a sweetheart.

Big thanks to all of you guys who are posting reviews for the books. I appreciate it from the bottom of my heart!!! I’m so thankful I busted out with the colors! I want to marry each of you! Wow, that’s illegal and makes me sound like a tramp. ;)

Okay, I’ll shut up now and give you the link to check out her blog: Book Review Blog (this lovely lady does not mess around with her reviews–crazy amounts of detail–it’s like a thesis!)

I’ll get back to my online dating blog (for those of you in the dating world, I think you’ll enjoy it) tonight or tomorrow.

Big hug to you all! Have a great night!

Book Cover Small

In Honor of my Funny, Smart, Beautiful and Supportive Sister

So last night I’m having a nervous breakdown. The kind that comes once every 10 years or so. To say that I was apoplectic would be an understatement. This is how I felt: bill the cat 2

I was laying in bed, feet twitching, hands twitching, left eye twitching (but luckily no muff twitching–recall the buzz muff anyone?) I had my Kindle in my hand and was jumping back and forth between a book, a word search app, Sudoku and a game called Paplinko (think Plinko on the Price is Right). I couldn’t focus on anything for more than a few minutes and I realized that if I didn’t let off a little steam (by that I mean FREAK THE FUCK OUT) that I was going to go nuts. It was to the point where I was thinking to myself, “Do I take my sleeping pill now so that I can just go into a coma for the next 8 hours or do I try and stay up as late as possible because taking the sleeping pill only makes tomorrow come that much faster?” That is me at my most stressed.

Even though it was 2 hours later in the state where my sister lives, meaning it was after 1:00 am, I texted her and asked if she was by any chance awake. She was! Yay! And not only was she awake, she was bright eyed and bushy tailed. Truly a gift from God. Had she been asleep I don’t know what I would have done.

So, I went out to my car and screamed and cried (soooooo not like me!!) for over an hour on the phone with my sister. I used a combination of 4-letter words that would shock the fangs off a snake. What did my precious little sister do? She made me laugh. It was wonderful. She showed just the right amount of quiet support, outrage, humor and understanding…it was just what this girl needed.  I can’t even remember the last time I cried on her shoulder. Probably 25 years ago. But there she was, helping me out long distance and doing what no one else could–getting me. She gets me. I have friends who “get me”. My hubby does amazingly well. But there is something about a sister that gets you in a way no one else can that is so reassuring. For that, and for her, I am incredibly thankful. I sincerely don’t know what I would have done without her last night. She was my Wonder Woman and an otter all wrapped up into one incredible woman. To say I am truly blessed would be the greatest of understatements.

Now, my dear friends, there is no need to worry. I’ll be fine, everything will work out, it’s just a temporary thing. But I felt the need to let the world know that I am so deeply grateful to have a sister who was there for me in the middle of the night. She offered to fly out here. She offered to have me fly out and stay with her. She did and said everything right.

Thank you so much, sweet Beck-a-boo, for loving me and for being the best sister anyone could ever want. I love you so much and am so glad I have you.

And just so the rest of you can see this fantastic woman who is my Sissy, here are a few pics of her and me (I’m 99% positive that shouldn’t be “she and I”) from over the years. See how lucky I am?

So sweet that she was giving me my favorite pacifier rather than smothering me with a pillow!

So sweet that she was giving me my favorite pacifier rather than smothering me with a pillow!

Jodi and Becky

She’s looked the same since birth. What a pretty little face. :)

Jodi and Becky Big Boobs

Who knew we could foresee the future at such a tender age?

We ain't 'fraid of no snakes!

We ain’t ‘fraid of no snakes!

Me attacking her when I opened her Christmas present where she gave me the money to cover my pet deposit--allowing me to get my very first kitties!

Me attacking her when I opened her Christmas present where she gave me the money to cover my pet deposit–allowing me to get my very first kitties!

Happy Christmas Campers last year.

Happy Christmas Campers last year.

Isn’t she just lovely?  I Love My Schmeckers!!

Free books and a little tit (for tat!)

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Does anyone else have a room in their house which is the Collect All room? A room where all the “I don’t know where this shit goes!” goes? Lord knows I do. I have about 3 of them. Okay, I’m not that bad…but close! The reason I’m telling you that I’m a pack rat psycho who has one room whose door is always shut in fear that someone, anyone, might see inside it is that I finally decided to clean it up. Ugh. What an undertaking. It’s been on my to-do list for about 6 months and I finally started on it tonight.

Why, you may ask, did I decide to actually clean something (cause you KNOW I hate cleaning!)? Well, because I’m a bit wrecked on pain killers as I broke a tooth last week. OH MY GOD does that fucking thing hurt. It hurts right now. I wanna chop off my own head to stop the hurt. OUCHY!!! The reason this hideous pain has inspired me to clean a bit is that I take a pain pill, fall asleep, wake up screaming in agony a few hours later and then have to do something to take my mind off my nightmarish misery while the next pill kicks in. I’ve decided that cleaning The Room from Hell is how I can distract myself from grabbing a pair of pliers and self-extricating the sonofabitching tooth.

How this has led me to Free Books and a Little Tit (for tat, you perverts!) is that I found a stash of all 3 of my books that I didn’t realize I had. I have 24 Sex: How to Get More of It. 28 Intimacy: How to Get More of It. And about 25 Darn Good Eats cookbooks (with the black and white interior). The Sex and Intimacy books don’t have the updated cover and some of them even have my author’s pic as me being a red head. So, when I found the books it sparked an idea (2 actually). Shocking, I know.

Idea one:

I will happily mail you a copy of one or more of my books on-the-house (I’ll even pay for shipping) in exchange for a review on Amazon (and any other place you wanna put it, but definitely Amazon). Now, this is not me bribing you. If you don’t like a book, I don’t want you to say you did–that is dishonest and poopy. I only want people who genuinely enjoyed the books or learned something valuable to leave reviews on Amazon. Obviously, if you hate a book I’d prefer you didn’t leave a review. Especially one like this, “That Jodi bitch can go suck it! I hate her. I hate her books. I’m going to burn her house down and eat her cats while she watches.” I’d feel pretty stupid if I paid to ship them to you and then you publicly ripped me to shreds. That would kinda blow. But if you like them, I’d super appreciate kick ass reviews. That would pretty much rule.

If you’d like to participate in this (keeping in mind I have a limited amount of books) email me at authorjodiambrose@gmail.com and give me your mailing address, your name (for those of you who go incognito on WordPress) and the books you’d like copies of.

  • Ladies, you can have any/all of my 3 books. Even though the Sex book was written for men, I get tons of feedback from chicks that they love it, so you can have that one too if ya want it.
  • Gentlemen, you can have the Sex book and/or the Darn Good Eats cookbook. Trust me, you do NOT want to read the Intimacy book that I wrote for chicks unless you want to read about menstrual cycles and things of the like.

Before you email me and request the Sex or Intimacy books (the cookbook is G-rated, so it’s not an issue), just remember that I’m a mouthy broad. If you follow this blog you know that I love to cuss, have a smart ass mouth and pretty much tell it like it is. The Sex and Intimacy books are just like that (though they have less cussing than my typical blog–totally unbelievable, I know), so if you know ahead of time that you’re going to be offended and hate them, please don’t ask me to send them to you. I truly want people to enjoy the books and be happier as a result–if you think that might be you, then definitely email me with which books you’d like.

One small caveat: Idea one is for US residents only. I am sooooo sorry my dear friends who are not here in the US, but it’s sooooo expensive mailing you stuff I’d go broke. I spent $47 mailing 2 books last week–one to Canada and one to New Zealand. I love you guys, but I just can’t afford all that. I would if I could–I promise, because you know I love your accent-having-asses even more than I love otters.

Now for idea 2, in which everyone can participate.

Idea two:

I always want my books to be as affordable as possible. As you guys know Darn Good Eats comes in both a black & white interior version (inexpensive) and a full-color interior version (slightly more expensive) so that everyone can afford it. I never want anyone to want to read one of my books but not have the bucks to do it. So, I thought I’d combine the Sex book and the Intimacy book into one book so that I could essentially sell both books for the price of one.

Here’s where you guys and your awesomeness comes in. I would love your help in naming the book. If you’ve read them, you know what’s in them and could probably come up with some amazing, fun and witty suggestions. If you haven’t read them (and don’t participate in Idea one above) you can always go to Amazon and do the Look Inside to see the first few pages of each book. That’ll give you a good idea about their content. Click here to preview Sex. Click here to preview Intimacy.

In exchange for your wonderful book title ideas, whoever either comes up with the name I end up using or the person whose suggestion sparks my imagination into finding just the right name, will get credit in the book and a link to their blog or other website. This way, all my readers get to see how wonderfully talented you are in naming books, and having your blog/website address in the book (both hard copy and digital) should help drive more traffic to your own personal awesomeness.

You can either leave your book title suggestions here (give me as many as you’d like–the more the merrier) as a comment or if you want to email it (them) to me feel free to email me at: authorjodiambrose@gmail.com.

See, there’s all kinds of tit for tat going on here!

OH, and one last thing–for those of you who have read one or more of the books and are now at least slightly happier, if you have a pic of you and your honey that you’d like to share with me, I’m thinking (not guaranteeing though) of doing a happy-reader-photo-collage either on the cover or inside of the new combo book. If you’d like to see your and your honey’s smiling faces in print, send me a pic WITH CLOTHES ON YOU BUNCH OF PERVS and it may just appear in the upcoming book. I thought it would be fun to actually show the happy faces of people who’ve been helped by my books. :) Please know that by sending me the pic you are giving me full rights to use the photo both in print and digitally from now until the end of time. I won’t edit the photo at all except to possibly crop it or do some color correction (if necessary).

Click on any of the book covers below to visit their page on Amazon if you want to read more about them or read reviews from other people. That info may help you decide which books you want me to send you (idea one) and might help spark an idea for the combo book name (idea two).

New Intimacy Book Cover Small with black border 1-20-13 Book Cover Small New Sex Book Cover 225 pixels wide black outline

Just so you know, I’m so tickled that I found that stash of books so that I can get them into your hands. For once, cleaning turned out to be a good thing!!!

I hope you guys enjoy whichever books you get and that they all not only make you giggle, but make life a little sweeter. Love ya!! :) XOXOXO

How the Hubby and I Cope with Missing Each Other When He’s out of Town.

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Meet Tick Teddy. Tick Teddy is one bad ass mo fo who takes no guff offa anyone. At the same time, he is a sweet little creature and even though he looks like a bloated, blood-filled tick, we love him all the same.

Tick Teddy is very blessed and gets to fly around the world with Daddy on his travels. Tick Teddy has been everywhere. This week he’s in Vancouver, BC and lovin’ life. Actually, I think he may be partying a bit much, but he can take it. Like I said, he’s bad ass.

So, today I get a picture of Tick doing his thing with a little commentary to go along with it. This is how the conversation ensued.

Tick Teddy gettin' his spin on!

Tick Teddy gettin’ his spin on!

Email from Tick Teddy to Mommy:

Oh …daddy told me that you are a piece of ass…what does that mean?

Email from Mommy to Tick Teddy:

Tick Teddy…I think it’s time we had “the talk.”

Daddy is what is known as a perverted stinker. Perverted stinkers like to grab hold of sweet, angelic little girls (like Mommy) and defile them with their joysticks. In order for perverted stinkers like Daddy to want to take advantage of that doe-like innocence, the girl must first be, as Daddy said, “a piece of ass.” Otherwise, Daddy’s joystick isn’t so full of joy.

Now, go kick Daddy for making me corrupt you like this at your sweet and tender age. Oh, and while he’s curled up in the floor crying from your swift kick, tell him Mommy loves him. It’s good to measure out both pleasure and pain at the same time–but that discussion is for another day.

Mommy loves you, Tick Teddy!

Yep, that’s how we do it in the Ambrose house. :)

Can a pedicure be a cluster f*ck? Worst fear realized!

The answer is YES. A pedicure can double as both a cluster fuck and a Guantanamo torture session. I learned this lesson just tonight and I promise to be a good girl from now on if the universe promises to never do that to me again.

First, let me set the stage. I’m not a candy ass. I’m a pretty tough chick with a fairly high threshold for pain. So, before you think, “What a baby!” know that I’m one hard bitch. ;)

Second, for those of you who’ve not had a pedicure, this is how it is described in the spa brochure: Relax your feet in a therapeutic, aromatic soak of warm, bubbling water before your nails and cuticles are gently and expertly groomed. The soles of your feet will be delicately buffed to silky softness and your lower legs and feet exfoliated during a relaxing and delightful massage. The finishing touch is your choice of polish color and a one-of-a-kind, artistic design to compliment your pretty feet. Wow! That sounds pretty damn good, right? WHO THE FUCK WOULD HAVE THOUGHT???!!!

So, I stroll my tired feet and half-polished toes into the spa prepared for an hour of delightful relaxation. I have a Starbucks in one hand and the massage chair controller in the other and I’m ready to be pampered. Here’s how it goes from there.

  1. I prepare to put my feet into the pedicure basin, which is so pretty. It has a rotating LED light in it so it turns all these pretty colors and lights up the bubbles. Ahhhh… In they go. FUCK MOTHER FUCKER FUCK FUCK! I yank those suckers out as fast as I can because the water was not hot, it was just this side of boiling. Water droplets went flying everywhere and when a few landed on my pedicurist she hollered, “Ouch!” Yep, even after traveling through the cool evening air, the water was still hot enough to burn her when it landed on her arm. As I looked at my scalded feet there were red splotches all over them all the way up to just past my ankle. Yep, that shit hurt like a mo fo.
  2. After she drains the cauldron and adds normal-hot water to it, I stick my feet in (now, of course, they are tender and overly susceptible to sensation), lean back and relax. She takes my right foot from the water, sets it up on the foot perch, removes the mostly missing nail polish and then starts manicuring my cuticles. Sounds good, right? NO! She attacked my feet with those nippers like she was being paid for every drop of blood she leached out of my toes. With one deft move she dug under my big toenail, pulled the razor-sharp nipper across to the top edge of my nail and yanked it out of the cuticle. WHAT THE HELL!!! I can only assume it’s some trick to make sure you don’t get ingrown toenails, but with the onslaught of blood I’m guessing she did not do it correctly. (For those of you who previously read my post about my biggest fear on earth being kicking my pedicurist in the face, know that my knee-jerk reaction almost realized this fear. I’m going to call it the “twitchy foot” so that I can easily refer to it throughout this post as it happened quite a few times.)
  3. Now that I’m bleeding, she digs into her kit and pulls out what must be a bottle of salt mixed with acid and applies that to my bloodied toe. SON OF A BITCH! (Twitchy foot.)
  4. Once I stopped crying (on the inside) she continued torturing, I mean, cutting my cuticles until there was no skin left on my toes.
  5. Then comes time for the callous remover. Now, keep in mind you pay EXTRA for this. I paid her to do this to me. She put the callous removing lotion all over the bottom of my feet and then started shaving off my skin. Yes, shaving. SHAVING! Which is fine as long she pays attention to what she’s doing. Alas… at that very moment there infiltrates my nose a smell that is a combination of burning wood and rotten eggs. What in the unholy fuckin’ hell is that stench!!!!??? Then I see the woman in the seat next to me with a mortified look on her face. Yep, she dealt the lethal anal air blast and now realized that the smell was worse than burning flesh. Good gracious God. I thought I was going to choke to death. And lucky for me, the smell not only distracted me from my boiled and bleeding feet, but it distracted my darling pedicurist who got into a loud and raucous conversation (in another language) with the pedicurist doing the feet of Fart Woman and while not at all watching what she was doing sheared off a slice of my heel that had my twitchy foot jumping all over the place. Somehow I managed not to kick her in the fuckin’ head, but it was a struggle. I didn’t see any blood drip (yet) so I thought, “Eh, fuck it, I’ll stick it out. How much more damage can she do?” What a dumb ass I am.
  6. Finally, the skin shaving is over (it was like some scene out of Criminal Minds for God’s sake!) and she places my feet back in the water-filled basin. FUUUUUUUCK!!!! Where I was missing skin from the razor debacle the hot, soapy water burned like someone was branding me with a cattle branding thingy (I don’t know what the fuck those things are called…a branding iron maybe?). Again, I got me the twitchy foot.
  7. Okay, so now it’s time for the salt scrub (again, I pay extra for this) which I dearly love getting–any kind of rubby massage is my idea of heaven. But apparently, Mrs. Fart inspired my pedicurist and her neighboring pedicurist to engage in a fun and jovial conversation that was seemingly without end and again she is distracted and not even looking vaguely in my direction as she begins. So, as she applies the gritty, chunky salt to my right leg she’s so swept up in giggling that she forgets to add water to the mix and starts grinding the flesh off of my leg with what feels like the roughest sand paper ever. This SUCKED! It did not feel good, but to be quite honest, at this point the pain was actually starting to get funny. I just kept thinking that it couldn’t keep going on and on and getting worse and worse. Again, I’m a stupid fuck. After about 3 of the longest minutes of my life she realizes that she’s not added any water grim reaper(though she sure as shit added more salt) and adds a bit of water. Whew… that must be what it feels like when giving birth and the baby finally comes the fuck out. Such relief that the worst of the pain is over. Oh, how could I have neglected to mention that the water-free salt scrub probably wouldn’t have been SO damn agonizing if she didn’t have the bony fingers of Death itself. It was like being massaged by the Grim Reaper. Her fingers were small razors of pain.
  8. At last, we are coming towards the end of this and so far I have yet to kick her, call her a bad name or outwardly cry. Total miracle, my friends. Total miracle. As she starts wiping down my legs with a warm towel (mmm…something finally didn’t hurt like hell) I start to relax and then BAM! She does some kind of finger snapping thing on my toes and cracks my baby toe knuckle. Yep. That was it. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I HATE HAVING MY KNUCKLES CRACKED! I lost all control over my foot and where it went and I snapped it away from her as fast as my lizard brain could and missed kicking her in the face by maybe a half a centimeter. Yep. Worst fear realized. She just missed a broken nose. I didn’t do it on purpose. It was like when the doctor taps your knee with the hammer to test your reactions. You can’t help but kick out your leg. That’s what happened to me. I’d been boiled, bled-out, and sliced with a razor. I’d had my leg skin removed with a salt/sand paper massage and suffered through the worst smelling butt assault in recorded history. And dammit, my survival instinct FINALLY kicked in and I kicked out. Good news is that I didn’t make contact–but just by the hair of my chinny chin chin. So, when she asked me moments later if I wanted her to paint a design on my toe I of course agreed out of horror for almost having broken her face. I paid $10 for this:

My poor, poor toes

Do you see a beautiful design? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller? Is there ten dollars worth of design on my big toe nails? NO! She covered up most of the design (6 stripes of black paint–yep, that is just so special and beautiful and custom and artistic) with the sparkly top coat I had requested and assumed like a fool would go under the design like it has 5,000,000 times before. And I’m not sure if you can tell, but the edges of my big toes are all red and inflamed where she, well, killed them. Ultimately, this pedicure ended up costing me a fortune and I left gimpy, bloody, smelling of chick farts and wanting to die.

Here’s what I think about their pedicure description: Relax your feet in a therapeutic, aromatic soak of warm, bubbling water (LIE! SCALDING IS NOT RELAXING!) before your nails and cuticles are gently and expertly groomed (LIE! BLOOD DOES NOT EQUAL GENTLY, NOR DOES IT EQUAL EXPERTLY). The soles of your feet will be delicately buffed (WITH A RAZOR AND ALL THE WAY DOWN TO THE BONE) to silky softness (EXPOSED MUSCLE IS NOT SILKY SOFT) and your lower legs and feet exfoliated (SKIN REMOVAL TO THIS EXTENT IS NOT EXFOLIATION, IT’S WHAT ANCIENT TRIBES USED TO DO BEFORE EATING YOU) during a relaxing and delightful massage (THE CRYPT KEEPER DOES NOT GIVE RELAXING AND DELIGHTFUL MASSAGES). The finishing touch is your choice of polish color (THE ONLY TRUE PART OF THIS BLASPHEME) and a one-of-a-kind, artistic design (REALLY? REALLY? 6 BLACK STRIPES YOU CAN BARELY EVEN SEE QUALIFY AS THIS??) to compliment your pretty (BLOODY AND SORE) feet.

Good gracious Lord…I think I need a drink. :)

PS: Forgive any typos. My nails are way too long and I can’t type worth a shit, but I was not about to let her have at my hands after all of this!!! ;)

New Book Covers. What’cha think?

Howdy! I sure hope everyone is having a great weekend!

So, I’ve never been a huge fan of my relationship books’ covers and I am excited to say that I finally get to see them updated. Woo hoo!!!

In an effort to keep them similar to what they were, but a bit more streamlined looking, they use the same graphics only with a different treatment.

I wanna know what you think. Is there anything that jumps out at you as horrific or do they look okay?

Thanks so much for any feedback. I really appreciate it! :)

Oh, and the back of the book is what’s on the left and the front cover is on the right. I’m sure you know that, but jut in case! :) XOXO

New Intimacy Book Cover 1-19-13

New Sex Book Cover 1-18-13

Prepare to weep for the yumminess!

Tzatziki time!!

I am, at this very moment, stuffing my happy face with mounds and mounds of tzatziki. This is THE best batch the hubby has ever made. Drool!!! I figured since I’m slobbering all over the place that I’d give you the recipe too. You can also find this in my cookbook, Darn Good Eats. Mmmm….

Here’s the recipe as it appears in the cookbook:

Oh, do I love this. I love this so much that the plate in the picture got an extra special placemat upon which to sit. Tzatziki is royalty in this house and deserves to be treated as such.

Just so you know, this is not your everyday tzatziki. No sirreebob! This recipe has evolved through many variations and has ended up like no other tzatziki on earth. It’s got some weird ingredients that you wouldn’t expect to find in it (I actually frowned when Grant first told me what he put in it, thinking it would be inedible) but it is incredibly delicious. And, it’s crazy healthy. So you can eat and eat and eat and not feel the slightest bit of guilt.

Mmmmm...tzatziki

Ingredients:

  • 16 ounces of plain Greek yogurt (get the low fat one to keep it healthy or get the nothing-but-fat one to make it extra creamy. I actually prefer the texture of the low fat yogurt).
  • 2 large, peeled cucumbers
  • Approximately 1 teaspoon of finely chopped dry mint from the spice section at the store (sounds gross, right??). If you use fresh mint, use a tablespoon.
  • 1 rounded tablespoon of finely chopped fresh dill
  • 1 – 1½ tablespoons of fresh lemon juice (I like WAY more than this, but it’s better to start slow and add more if you need it)
  • 4 cloves of garlic, pressed, minced or cut up very small (I personally like slightly more than 4 cloves)
  • Salt and pepper, to taste

Directions:

  1. Peel the cucumbers.
  2. Quarter the cucumbers lengthwise and then cut the quarters lengthwise again.
  3. Take the knife and slice the seeds off the top of each strip of cucumber (you won’t use the seeds in the recipe).
  4. Cut the eights lengthwise a couple more times so you have 16 – 32 long, skinny, deseeded strips of cucumber.
  5. Cut the cucumber strips into tiny pieces.
  6. Put the cucumber into a bowl.
  7. Add the rest of the ingredients and stir.
  8. Refrigerate for at least an hour before serving.
  9. Serve with warmed pita bread.

You can also serve it on a pita smothered in gyro fixings. We buy gyro meat at the store (we have to go to a fancy schmancy store to find it) and cook it up like bacon. Then chuck a bunch of sliced tomato and red onion on it, add the tzatziki sauce, wrap it all up in a warm pita and you have one heck of a scrumptious meal.

One rather special element of this tzatziki is that we don’t puree it. Just about everywhere you go the tzatziki is smooth. Well, I don’t want it smooth. I like it with tiny cucumber chunks. To me, it’s more substantial that way. It’s not just a dip; it feels like you are eating an actual meal.

Feel free to puree the recipe I’ve just given you, but you will be breaking the tzatziki rules and I’m afraid we just can’t have that. Kidding! If you are unsure about the cucumber chunks, take half of the recipe and puree it and then do a taste test and compare it to the chunky version. Or puree half of it and mix it together with the un-pureed half. That way it’s just a little chunky. I’m gonna bet that you like the chunkier one better. It is one of the freshest tasting foods you’ll ever eat.

dragon breath

ENJOY!!