I've had some pretty indecent proposals in my time, but this one takes the cake. Happy Friday.
It's not just you… we all have our moments
Showing posts with label tampon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tampon. Show all posts
Friday, March 14, 2014
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
A Bloody Mess
This story is once removed, but I'll have you know it's credible. It's rightful owner is a friend of mine who told me yesterday (so the details are fresh in my head), and on the heels of Valentine's Day, I feel like this little anecdote is too romantic not to exploit, er… share.
Engagements are a beautiful and exciting milestone in one's life (if you consider a public declaration of surrender a feat of accomplishment). I wouldn't know, because up until recently, I was the kind of girl you took home to dad, not mom. In other words, proposal's weren't exactly falling at my feet.
Quick side story, the best friend of one of my exes once told me that when "Seth" and I broke up, he made it a point to rebound with the most boring girl he could find… and then he married her. Yeah, that's what I did to guys - put them through the wringer until lackluster looked brilliant.
Now, there are multiple ways you can go with the proposal: pop the question to a long-time love who feels like part of the family, or fall in love so hot and fast you don't want to spend another moment single - so you get engaged in a month. When you know, you know… right? Like my favorite line in When Harry Met Sally says: "…when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible." I get it.
My point is, sometimes the engagement comes before you have the opportunity to meet your soon-to-be in-laws. By then, the pressure is really on, cuz you're playing for keeps. This "simple" meeting of your two worlds better not collide, because if they do, it's gonna be a looooooong life. This is where we pick up with my friend's story: on the eve of introducing his fiancé to his mother.
The poor girl was already nervous about meeting her future mother-in-law… I mean, c'mon… we all know the stereotypes, what if this ol' bitty was a monster? Miss. Fiancé may have had the ring, but she still had to make a good impression on dear old mom… the paperwork hadn't been signed yet! It was already a strike against her that she and Mr. Man were living in sin, and had been for a while… at least long enough to get a dog. So, in anticipation of "Betty's" arrival, the least she could do was clean the house from head to toe.
Their spotless home was met by Betty's approval, and after some light chit-chat over a cocktail (to bevel the edges), the trio decided it was safe to take the meet-and-greet out to dinner.
The evening was a smashing success, and it seemed all that worry was for nothing. Miss. Fiancé chalked up the majority of her paranoia to her cycle… after all, it was "that time of the month." The three were having such a lovely time getting acquainted, they invited mom back to the house for some coffee and dessert without the slightest inclination that lurking in the dark shadows of the immediate future, a disaster of epic proportions was patiently waiting for them.
For those of you with a dog (and a girlfriend - if you're not a female dog owner), you know that the only thing they love more than the crotch of a dirty pair of panties is a trashcan filled with feminine products, and in regards to the latter, the last thing you should do during "that time of the month" is haphazardly leave your dog unattended. Also, there's nothing like the wrath of a dog who's pissed you left him alone.
The evening went from great success to Holy terror with the turn of a key. In less than a second, laughter turned to gasps of horror as they were met with an entire living room covered in bloody cotton, and a dog, hiding shamefully under the couch.
God only knows how this couple made it to the alter after that, but they did. Just goes to show that true love can withstand a lot of bloody challenges, I guess? And they kept the dog!
People are weirdos.
Quick side story, the best friend of one of my exes once told me that when "Seth" and I broke up, he made it a point to rebound with the most boring girl he could find… and then he married her. Yeah, that's what I did to guys - put them through the wringer until lackluster looked brilliant.
Now, there are multiple ways you can go with the proposal: pop the question to a long-time love who feels like part of the family, or fall in love so hot and fast you don't want to spend another moment single - so you get engaged in a month. When you know, you know… right? Like my favorite line in When Harry Met Sally says: "…when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible." I get it.
My point is, sometimes the engagement comes before you have the opportunity to meet your soon-to-be in-laws. By then, the pressure is really on, cuz you're playing for keeps. This "simple" meeting of your two worlds better not collide, because if they do, it's gonna be a looooooong life. This is where we pick up with my friend's story: on the eve of introducing his fiancé to his mother.
The poor girl was already nervous about meeting her future mother-in-law… I mean, c'mon… we all know the stereotypes, what if this ol' bitty was a monster? Miss. Fiancé may have had the ring, but she still had to make a good impression on dear old mom… the paperwork hadn't been signed yet! It was already a strike against her that she and Mr. Man were living in sin, and had been for a while… at least long enough to get a dog. So, in anticipation of "Betty's" arrival, the least she could do was clean the house from head to toe.
Their spotless home was met by Betty's approval, and after some light chit-chat over a cocktail (to bevel the edges), the trio decided it was safe to take the meet-and-greet out to dinner.
The evening was a smashing success, and it seemed all that worry was for nothing. Miss. Fiancé chalked up the majority of her paranoia to her cycle… after all, it was "that time of the month." The three were having such a lovely time getting acquainted, they invited mom back to the house for some coffee and dessert without the slightest inclination that lurking in the dark shadows of the immediate future, a disaster of epic proportions was patiently waiting for them.
For those of you with a dog (and a girlfriend - if you're not a female dog owner), you know that the only thing they love more than the crotch of a dirty pair of panties is a trashcan filled with feminine products, and in regards to the latter, the last thing you should do during "that time of the month" is haphazardly leave your dog unattended. Also, there's nothing like the wrath of a dog who's pissed you left him alone.
The evening went from great success to Holy terror with the turn of a key. In less than a second, laughter turned to gasps of horror as they were met with an entire living room covered in bloody cotton, and a dog, hiding shamefully under the couch.
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| Photo from Notes From A Nerdling blog |
People are weirdos.
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
A (Toxic) Shock On My System
You might have a problem if…
Nothing stands in your way of a good time. And by "nothing" I mean tampons, and your idea of a good time is sex. And your name is Kristyn.
The details of the evening in question are inconsequential. All you need know is I was under the (natural) impression that not being able to locate said clotting device the next morning meant I had remembered to remove it before play time, and had disposed of it.
Turns out the exact opposite had occurred, and essentially I'd been hammering a nail into my coffin.
Oh, yeah. Toxic shock syndrome is fatal. Sex kills - sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly. Just like booze.
Eleven days later, I'm layed up in the hospital with a series of tubes and IV's running through me; kickin' it on a goddamn gurney that had a built in scale - my ultimate nightmare. ANYONE could freely access my weight at any given time.
A series of things happened over the course of the three days I was incapacitated:
1) My brother graduated from college. Which I missed. Because I was recovering from toxic shock syndrome. Can't get that moment back.
2) My ENTIRE family was in town! (For my brother's graduation.) So I had LOTS of visitors. Who "knew" what happened to me. I'm a whore.
2a) Know who didn't visit? My boyfriend.
3) It was the first time I was informed by a medical professional that I might, in fact, have a drinking problem.
To which I responded: "Man, I need a fucking drink."
Nothing stands in your way of a good time. And by "nothing" I mean tampons, and your idea of a good time is sex. And your name is Kristyn.
The details of the evening in question are inconsequential. All you need know is I was under the (natural) impression that not being able to locate said clotting device the next morning meant I had remembered to remove it before play time, and had disposed of it.
Turns out the exact opposite had occurred, and essentially I'd been hammering a nail into my coffin.
 |
| http://kterrl.wordpress.com/tag/toxic-shock-syndrome/ |
Eleven days later, I'm layed up in the hospital with a series of tubes and IV's running through me; kickin' it on a goddamn gurney that had a built in scale - my ultimate nightmare. ANYONE could freely access my weight at any given time.
A series of things happened over the course of the three days I was incapacitated:
1) My brother graduated from college. Which I missed. Because I was recovering from toxic shock syndrome. Can't get that moment back.
2) My ENTIRE family was in town! (For my brother's graduation.) So I had LOTS of visitors. Who "knew" what happened to me. I'm a whore.
2a) Know who didn't visit? My boyfriend.
3) It was the first time I was informed by a medical professional that I might, in fact, have a drinking problem.
To which I responded: "Man, I need a fucking drink."
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