POA [Piece of Ass] Do Not Do List

Do not act like a total ass – you will not get ass.

Do not pound on my door at 3:00 a.m. and proceed to blow up my phone for an hour – you will not get ass.

Do not pull a jealous routine when you find out I’m going out with another guy – you’re a POA because you’re not datable – get jealous and you will not get ass.

Do not lie to me – you will not get ass.

Do not fail to tell me you have a new girlfriend – you will not get ass.

Do not throw me under the bus when your girlfriend busts you for cheating on her again – you will not get ass.

Do not carry on a conversation with me via text and suddenly go incommunicado for twelve hours – you will not get ass.

Do not compare me to your girlfriend, ex-girlfriend or call me a typical woman – you will not get ass.

Do not get drunk because you hate your life (which you made yourself) and text me at 2 in the morning to tell me you care about me – you will not get ass.

Do not try to criticize me for my past relationships when you are living with a cokehead alcoholic – you will not get ass.

Do not whine to me – you will not get ass

Do not return a key to my house with a nasty note just because I’m dating someone and will not fuck you (because unlike you, I’m not a cheater) – you will not get ass.

Do not tell me I live an easy life just because I don’t make stupid decisions like you and I happen to pay my bills – you will not get ass.

Do not chat with me constantly on the phone and then ignore me in social situations – you will not get ass.

Do not be a lying, cheating, sack of shit sorry excuse of a man – you will not get ass.

In fact, it would probably be best if you didn’t open your mouth at all – answer your call of duty, come over, do your duty, and get the hell out – promise to do that and you WILL get ass.

Why I Don’t Drink Cherry Bombs (anymore)

A few years ago, cherry bombs (3 Olive Cherry vodka, red bull and a splash of grenadine) were the new craze in my town. I got to where that was all I would drink – cherry bombs on ice. It was my signature cocktail. My ex-boyfriend and I shared a love (although his is more of an obsession) for David Allan Coe. For those of you who are unfamiliar with DAC, he is a phenomenal and under-appreciated songwriter and unconventional to say the least. His list of hits includes “Would You Lay with Me” (hit by Tanya Tucker), “Take This Job and Shove It” (hit by Johnny Paycheck) and “You Don’t Even Call Me By My Name” (hit for DAC himself). The point of this is that during the course of our 2 ½ year relationship, we probably saw him six times in concert.

To see DAC was to get absolutely wasted and enjoy the show. We had a normal routine – drink on the way to the venue, me dressed as scantily as I could while showcasing my gigantic boobs. Eric would park me as close (standing room) to the stage as he could and leave me to get beers. Picture gigantic boobs in a sea of men. It didn’t take long for me to make my way up to the stage, get beer from guys and the occasional joint. Then, just as the show would start, much to the guys’ dismay, Eric would sidle up and enjoy the front row position I had wrangled for us and ply me with more alcohol.

After one of these concerts, during which I drank I don’t know how much beer, we got back to town (we always convinced some poor schmuck to go to the concerts with us and drive – thank god for recovering alcoholics!). Here’s what I remember…

11:00 pm get back to town and head to the first bar. Flirt with my bartender Ollie as always, have a couple cherry bombs.

12:00 pm go down the road to our other favorite haunt. At this point, I realize I am wasted and I am pretty impressed that I am still able to make conversation. I am also starving (side effect of me getting drunk) and insist on getting a pepperoni roll microwaved for me. The bartender, realizing I am wasted and fears my temper should I not get fed, gets one ready for me. These things are huge and I require a knife. Bartender refuses to give me a knife. To this day, Eric will never be able to tell you how I did it, but I managed to go up to him and get his switchblade. I proceed to cut my pepperoni roll into delicate slices of loveliness. Eric sees that I have his knife and yells at me across the bar to put it down. I wave it in the air.

9 am the next day. I wake up, naked, go to the bathroom and come back to bed. As I close my eyes, I realize I have no recollection of ever going to bed. I turn to Eric and ask him how I got there…. Yea…..

apparently after waving his knife at him, he came and took it back. I kept ordering cherry bombs and no one saw fit to deny me. WE WENT TO THREE OTHER BARS. Let me reiterate – I have blacked out, I have no memory of this, only the phone calls and stories everyone told me to confirm it. I insisted we keep barhopping, and I insisted I was fine and kept drinking cherry bombs. I went to see all of my favorite bartenders and tell them how much I loved them. I apparently made phone calls….(another reason why you should just take away my phone when I’m drinking)….I left a voicemail for my friend Tommy – when he saw me a few days later, he said he saved it because he just couldn’t believe what I was saying. He asked me if I wanted to listen to it – I looked at him and said “Tommy, I really don’t think I do…” He said “honey, you REALLY don’t… we’ll just keep it between us.” ugh.

I ask Eric how I got to bed (since I don’t remember even coming home). Well, turns out he did finally see that I needed to get home. So Mindy and Kevin, God love them, drove us home and apparently helped me inside. Now understand, even under normal circumstances, I tend to just strip and walk around the house – I’m not bashful. Well apparently, I didn’t really care that Mindy and Kevin were standing there in the living room…and as soon as I walked in the door, I started stripping my way to the bathroom to pee and then on into the bedroom. Yup, stark ass naked in front of two of our friends.

I then apparently proceeded to fuck Eric’s brains out, every way possible, doing some crazy ass shit (crazy even for me) that I do not recall. And then I never drank another cherry bomb again.

Girlfriends Are STILL Priceless!

A REAL girlfriend will beam with pride when her 14 year old daughter tells her fiancé that she wants to be just like YOU when she grows up because you’re a professional. When he says that he’s a professional too, your girlfriend will laugh her ass of when her daughter doesn’t miss a beat and says “yea, but I wanna have a beer once in a while when I grow up; Mandy’s FUN!”

A REAL girlfriend will love you so much that she will offer to draw you a nice hot bath, light some candles and play soft music – and add vinegar to that water so she can scrub the grit and grime of past heartaches and abuse off your exterior so you’ll stop being such a heartless bitch.

A REAL girlfriend will hug you long and hard every time she sees you to make sure you can feel just how much she loves you.

A REAL girlfriend will not make fun of YOU for screwing a guy who now weighs 450 pounds – she’ll help you make fun of HIM by telling you to put a can of SlimFast in the fridge at work with his name on it and a box of Dexatrim on his desk.

A REAL girlfriend will laugh at you with all the love in her heart when your OCD kicks in and you insist on re-aligning the mini-meatballs on the plate the two of you are sharing after each of you eat one. Repeat 15 times because it was a ton of fucking meatballs.

A REAL girlfriend read your blog every day LOL

A REAL girlfriend will stop at your house to borrow something and leave a Halloween decoration in your flower pot by the front door.

A REAL girlfriend will leave you “I Love You” notes in random places all over your house.

A REAL girlfriend will save the crossword puzzle for you from the newspaper.

A REAL girlfriend will take your secrets to the grave; as well as the secrets of your boyfriends that you promised you wouldn’t tell to anyone, but everyone knows that telling a girlfriend doesn’t break that promise!

Online Dating is Really Starting to Suck

So I get an alert last evening – I have a few unread emails on Zoosk, one of the free online dating sites. So I figure ok, at least I’ll have some material for a blog….here we go!!!

Blueeyed7 local (yea!) 46 (nay) and um, well, I know I’m not 105 pounds, but I don’t have a second chin the reaches my chest either….

Jaccob I can’t get over the fact that Jacob is spelled wrong – sorry, it’s just an irritant even if it’s supposed to be a play on his name LOL

Phale ok, once again, I wish you could see this picture. He is 36 and looks 12, is shirtless and has the oddest pose in what may be a men’s restroom? And he just got out of a 21 year relationship…I’ll wait while you do the math….so since he was 15????? And he’s a huge Christian, in fact he comes second only to the Lord. Sorry, that’s the alarm going off…

Booboo His story? “some one want me for me” His Perfect Match? “good looking no cheaters” Ideal Date? “up too any thing” typed verbatim oh God.

Teka125 hang on to your hats. He’s 44 with hair halfway down his back. His photo is taken in what looks like a dorm room and I can only surmise is his bedroom. He admits he’s not much of a housekeeper (why do I suddenly envision a trailer?) and is seeking someone who is youthful looking. Pass me a gun.

Gumby Thank you Lord, he lives an hour away. His Likes? “Pearl Jam… its all I kneed”

Spike He’s 37 and local. Blah on the looks. His story (and I had to copy this one in too and bite me to those of you who thing I’m a punctuation whore LOL) “Ok well what do I say? Well I am going through a disalousion, I have 2 boys that I having visit, but don’t get to see near enough. They are #1 in my life and will be there for ever, not that I dont have room for someone special but if you try to make me choose dont be surprised. I love the outdoors, I dont care to sit around all day watching TV on my days off, not that I cant sit down relax and watch TV or a movie with you though. I do have my favorite shows that I like to watch (NCIS, The Unit, Looking forward to the new series taking the spot of ER) I would much rather be doing something like tent camping, hiking, hunting, scuba diving, Leather work (making stuff from leather), wood working, ect. I have never smoked and only drink occassionally. I love camping I have been tent camping basically my whole life (ok I was told I was “created” in a Boy Scout of America camp)(not kidding). My first campout was in a tent at 6 months old. I have 2 vehicles, 2 jobs. I dont know what else to say so if you want to know more you will have to ask.”

I’m going to go bury my head in the sand now.

Retail Therapy with Husband’s Assistance

9.16.09 gary wise lance aldrich real life adventures

My Obituary

Something I think about a lot, as the dark side of me checks the obituaries every day to see who’s passed away, is what my obituary will say about me. Who will write it? I know if my parents write it, it would be prim and proper. But that’s not me – so I’ve been thinking about writing my own obituary and keeping it updated as life goes on (after all, want to keep it current) and here’s how I think it would read…..

Born October 6, 1974, died [to be determined] of the breast and/or ovarian cancer she always knew she’d get (and no, her lifetime of smoking did not contribute to it). Amanda was a charismatic, loving, break the mold kind of chick. Raised Catholic, her final act of defiance against that religion was her high school Senior term paper entitled “Satansim as a True Religion” (she received an A). College saw her not once but three times, earning her B.A. in Business Economics from the College of Wooster, an M.S. in Accounting from Kent State University and because she was such a glutton for punishment, an M.B.A. from the University of Maryland University College. She was happily divorced and survived her heartbreaks with poise, dignity and bottles of Captain Morgan and vodka. She balanced her stellar career as an accountant with her many tattoo’s, including the heart she shares with her best friend and one true love, “Smurf.” Her COW friends Eric (NYC Eric) and Erynn, crazy Alaskan homemaker, are among the few to know the ins and outs of Amanda’s personality – she let few people see all sides of her. She was known as “aunt” to many, mother to none, surrogate daughter to Patti and Floyd, caretaker of one demon-possessed cat, “sister” to Mikey and Justine, “sunshine” to Ruby and entertaining neighbor to Brad and Lisa. She touched many lives, always leaving a mark so she could never be forgotten. She excelled at her writing, posting almost daily to her Women’s Wit blog and always thinking of how she’ll pull together her novel. She joined the Canton South Rotary for her father, was a past Treasurer of the Junior League of Canton, Inc. for her mother and a horny little toad for herself. A Libra through and through, as her friends Sheri and Phillis can attest to, Amanda always tried to balance the chaos with peace, the shit days with Margarita Mayhem, the depression with retail therapy at Target and the lack of male companionship (because all men are douchebags and good only as POA’s) with the love and devotion of her friends.

There will be no viewing because Amanda could never stand calling hours and she refused to be buried. Instead, she requested a party be held to celebrate her life. Drink it up, smoke it up, play some Bo Burnham, Poison, Motley Crue and of course, Guns n Roses. She is going to be cremated and after a bit of her is saved in a vial for Smurf, she will be scattered on Cadillac Mountain in Acadia National Park in Acadia, Maine per her wishes. Anyone who defies her wishes will have to deal with a pissed off Amanda haunting them all their days. And someone take care of the damn cat.

Break-Up Do it Once, Do it Right, Move the Hell On…

Per Wikipedia: A relationship breakup (sometimes referred to as a relationship breakdown) occurs when a relationship, typically a romantic one, comes to an end. The breakup creates personal emotions, which vary from casual acceptance to emotional trauma. They may create feelings of relief, of regret, of fault someone for the breakdown, to anger, the seeking of revenge, besides other emotions.

There seem to be different opinions on what constitutes breaking up and what doesn’t…. for the sake of argument, we’ll assume you have no children together (thought one partner may have a child), you don’t work together and don’t live next door to each other. That being said, here’s a Guide to Breaking Up because some people don’t seem to quite get it and frankly, I find you people annoying and full of shit.

#1 Go to all the social networking sites you belong to and delete that person from your friends list. You can always re-add them later should the two of you choose to have a friendship but come on, you’re ex’s – are you really going to be so desperate for friends that you have to be friend’s with the ex who almost cost you your home? Tried to break into your house? Etc…?

#2 Change your status on said sites to Single. Because guess what – when you break up with someone, you become single again. SINGLE. Not “In a relationship.” Maybe it’s just me loving the freedom of a break-up, but I like to advertise that I’m single again, not mope and keep myself socially unavailable on the off-chance that he comes back and sees the light and wants to be with me again and appreciates that I was so in love with him that I couldn’t really consider myself single….sound pathetic yet? So does keeping your status “in a relationship.”

#3 Delete/toss/replace all pictures of the two of you together – especially the ones kissing, holiday pictures, etc…. Frankly, anyone who maybe knows you’re broken up and wants to make a move will be halted by the folder of pictures entitled “me with my baby” and pictures of you sucking face with your ex – with whom you’ve broken up. Remember? You guys broke up?

#4 Stop texting each other. You’ve broken up remember? No need to dig the knives in a little deeper, just leave each other alone. He hooked up with the bar tramp? So what – let him enjoy the crabs she just gave him. He hears that you called your old POA the day after the break-up? Big deal – the minute you’re broken up, you’re free to do whatever, and whoever, you want. Don’t harp on each other. He’s an ass – big deal. You texting him tell him he’s an ass won’t change that – focus on the fact that you are better person for being rid of that ass.

#5 Don’t try to stay in touch with his family – that’s border-line stalkerish. It’s really not appropriate. I don’t care if just last week they said they loved you – blood is thicker than water and the minute you broke-up with him, you broke up with his family too. Doesn’t mean you can’t be civil in public or social situations, but absolutely positively DOES mean that you don’t make lunch plans or carpool with members of his family.

#6 DO NOT do drive-by’s. That’s stalker-mode and completely unattractive, desperate and creepy. It’s over. Leave the past in the past and forget each other’s address.

#7 Do NOT stop going to the same bars. It’s a break-up, not the end of the world and really, sorry guys, no one’s going to give a shit if you’re broken up now. So walk on in with your head held high, say hello to everyone and have a couple drinks. Do NOT sit there and stare at your ex-girlfriend, do NOT allow your male friends surround you “to keep you safe” because that’s just lame. Stop acting like anyone really gives a shit – a relationship ended – wow, it’s so profound and affects everyone so much. Oh wait, no it doesn’t, because chances are, everyone knew from the beginning that your relationship was doomed and wait, hadn’t you “broken up” a couple times before for a night or two? Hadn’t he cheated? Wow, never saw that one coming. You’re not that special, avoidance is lame.

#8 Don’t mope. It’s stupid. If the relationship were meant to be, he/she wouldn’t have stolen money from you, hit you, cheated on you, slapped you, broken up with you before, tossed your shit out the door, cheated on you, treated you like crap, let you work while he was an unemployed bum, drained you financially, fought with you every time he/she was drunk, pushed you around, belittled you, called you names, fought with your family members….getting the picture? Someone you break up with is clearly not worth keeping and thus not even remotely worthy of you sitting around and moping, missing them. Suck it up. Go get a piece of ass, you’ll feel better.

#9 Don’t try to reconcile only to end it again two days later. Guess what – what was already broken (the relationship – again, that’s why it’s called a break-up) is not going to be suddenly fixed because the two of you are horny and lonely and wait, I didn’t mean to call you mooching fat-ass prick, I really do love you. I didn’t mean to call you a cock-sucking tramp-ass pill-popping fat-ass whore, I miss you so much. Yea, I can feel the love. Break-up and stay broken-up and just move on. Please.