The Spray Tan

One would think that I would have beautiful Caramel skin considering I am half Mexican and that I wouldn’t have to get a dreaded spray tan but, I don’t and I do.

Check this, I went to a wedding this past weekend, I’m white, so fucking white that I blend in with my “antique white” walls. Literally, Casper status. It’s truly terrible.

Any who, I received a spray tan early Friday morning. I’ve had them before, and the lady that basically spray paints my body is radical. So I feel comfortable standing completely naked in front of her. I’m sure plenty of you have received a spray tan and as you are all aware you get gradually tan through out the day/night, that’s great and all for those of you who work normal hours because before you turn “umpa loompa” status your ass is already home. For me, it didn’t work that way, I went to work a nice shade of “What the Fuck”.

Being in the service industry and working nights, my lovely co workers had the privilege of seeing 50 Shades of Orange. I came to work pretty light and as the damn night continued I turned to carrot orange to a lovely “white girl trying to be black” and let me tell you my big red lips that I love with my pale skin blended in so well with my tan that it looked like I had no fucking lips. My coworkers couldn’t stop giggling and as I became darker their jokes became even darker and more ridiculous. The kitchen staff was confused and my boss asked my friend if I willingly decided to be sprayed with espresso tanner and not vanilla macchiato.

My shift ended and I took my wanna be ass home. I woke up the next morning and checked the mirror…holy shit was I a sight to see. I’m only sharing this photo because I know this will be blackmail later and I just can’t have my bff win.
I sent her this.

She called me instantly with hysterical laughter. I’m really glad we can amuse each other with our stupid shit. We bantered back and forth and I told her it would look different once I showered, she told me to “scrub hard”. After I spoke with her, I FaceTimed my friend whose attending the wedding with me…this had to be the best FaceTime ever due to the fact that she looked just as crazy as I with her spray tan (I would show proof but she would kill me, and I’m saving it for #wcw on Instagram (mims113)).

Don’t you all worry, once I showered I didn’t look like a crazy person, it actually looked like a normal tan.

After all this crazy nonsense. After an amazing wedding between to radical people, we all did after reception drinking at a bar in the midtown area of Sacramento. Now, I’m not a fan of Sactown, 3 years ago someone broke into my damn car and robbed me. It wasn’t fun and I haven’t been back since. But it was a wedding and I had to give it another try.

wrong, so wrong

I honestly wish I could say it was better, the wedding was amazing, my friends looked handsome in suits and my friend and I looked great with spray tans. I had a pretty long dress on and my Afro hair was top notch. I was overall happy. That was until a crazy man decided he wanted to literally beat 4 of our asses and leave us on the streets of Sacramento with blood and tears. I shit you not, some crazy ass mother fucker attacked us outside of the bar as we were leaving to go back to the hotel.

We all laugh at it now, I mean…really. How does that happen. He was on some super strength drug that allowed him to not get tired after he shoved my lady friend, punched another friend, pounded my other friends face a couple times and as I was grabbing to get him off the ground the man decided my face need work too.

Now, after all is said and done without the help of Sacramento Police. We learned a valuable lesson…don’t ever go to fucking Sac and if you do, don’t have an Afro and a spray tan because I’m 400% sure that the crazy white man was a racist and assumed I was a cross dressing black man (even if I was he still shouldn’t have hit me, my dress was so rad).

Dear Sacramento,

Suck My Dick

Always,
Me

The “Online” Dater

Caution: DO NOT DATE A MAN THAT IS AN ONLINE DATER (everyone dabbles but serial online dating).

Let’s be real, dating in the 2010s is a miserable thing. How do single people meet other single people without meeting them on some lame dating website that tells us nothing and everything about them. Where people put up all sorts of photos from the late 90s and try to pass them off as modern day (granted some styles are back but camera filters and a photo of a photo, please).

In all honestly, we’ve all joined Tinder, we’ve swiped left and right and we’ve chatted. Then some of us realized that this is truly lame and these men only want my panties on the floor for one night not a relationship. Sure, it’s fun to chat with a strange man that looks yummy in his profile and his tag line says something about finding his Tinderella (you giggle thinking you can be his Tinderella). Wait, why the fuck would I want to be someone’s online princess when I don’t want to be a princess at all.

The struggle is real, I feel like I’m in this deep depth of insane reality when all I’m trying to do is meet my equal, my human that gets my sarcastic manor, who takes no prisoners on game night (not even his granny) and someone that bitches about rubbing my back when I bitch he needs too. Really, this shouldn’t be such a daunting task.

Anyways, with my personal experience and that of my friends I’ve come to the conclusion that there is such thing as serial online daters and with deep research (that being enough experience) I’ve come to realize these men flat out suck. Really, they suck the life right out of you, they suck the air your breathe and they suck any normal thoughts you have. I say this because, an online dater is always looking for the next high, the next best thing. They will eat you up and spit you out. They convince you of this Lala land of newfound love and then wham, you wake up and the lies fall apart, your friend has seen him on her dating app when he told you otherwise. You simply can’t trust them, you’ll be constantly wondering if he’s swiping right while he cuddling you in the couch.

I’ve heard horror stories of men who’ve been in long relationships still currently online dating. What’s the point, you have a lady. How do I know the bullshit from the non bullshit. I’m going to stalk the fuck out of you online before I get too serious because you can only hide so damn much. It’s just completely insane.

They use and abuse women, and those that don’t are either:
A) Fake
B) Don’t look like their photographs
C) Are salesmen and just want your business (truth)
D) Have really good imagination and create those elaborate stories
E) Are Chameleons and change to suit you
F) Fuckers

At this point, they are all fuckers. My lady friends and I are all strong ass, mother fucking, bad ass women, and for some reason some of these men have slipped through our cracks and have attempted to wreck our worlds (mother fucker you can’t have my world).

I would think twice before dating a man that has been on every dating website. Or date a man that has been on every dating website with different names, or has only photos of his kids, or has the lamest tag line, or starts off by calling you baby, or doesn’t ever want to meet you in public, or only whispers when he calls you and hangs up to never call back, or you’ve caught in lies, or just gives you the bad vibes, or has no teeth, or an eye for that matter, or a manipulating dickbag, or someone who makes you feel like you’re the sole reason that you two can’t make it work, or just any man nowadays… Rant over

But really, serial online daters are real, be careful ladies…they are always the handsome ones with good jobs and great smiles that I will punch one day.

I’m also sure there are women that are the same too…and I bet they act the same as men.

fuck you online dating for ruining dating for the people that actually want to meet a good human, and meeting them in a normal way. I spend every Sunday at the finest supermarket in town looking for my person but they are all too busy swiping left or right (okay that’s a lie, I always shop at the good supermarket and I only glance for hotties).

Bad Bitches, What’s Your Fucking Problem

I am not a “bad” bitch, I am just a straight up bitch. I am the hardest person you will ever meet. I don’t like you until I know you and if I don’t get to know you, I will never like you (I am really nice once you are in the inner circle of bitch).

I can’t pin point my change from sweet ginger baby to platinum blonde ass face but it was a change, a drastic one. I may have been on a quest to prove the world that I AM WOMAN, I AM STRONG, HEAR ME ROAR (or just to prove I can do it alone). Upon my journey to independence my heart shrunk two sizes and this perma bitch look has been forever plastered to my face.

I’ll get with it. I had a revelation, I am a man-eater. Literally, somehow in my quest to prove myself to God knows who I became the girl that eats men up and spits them out. It dawned on me when another one bit the dust. This man was nice, good job, good looking, sweet to me and I had to open my big mouth and be a raging ass not once but twice. I have since apologized and received nothing but crickets. I don’t blame him.

Now, I have been hurt, torn down and dated the men you are always warned about. I have seen and done it all. I don’t know why, I went from loving love to being petrified of the men I CHOSE to be with. I am so terrified of getting hurt and my heart ripped out again but I don’t even give the men a chance.

I am a self sabotage person in the dating world. I decide to not talk to them before they decided to not talk to me. I decide to use my words and smart ass mouth so that they don’t want to talk to me. I decide to allow certain men to be great to me or certain men to be disrespectful to me. All of this is my own doing.

The cycle continues, good girl meets bad boy, bad boy screws over good girl and now said good girl turns ass and eats the next good boy that comes along. It is the ever continuing cycle of craziness until one good girl gets the bad boy to soften or one nice man tames the wild beast.

Bad Bitches…aint the fucking problem, the damn dating game of good girl turns bad girl back to good girl is the fucking problem. Bitches be bitches baby!

The “Sex” Myth

Scene: Loud and noisy club, I’m with one of my lady friends who just broke up with her ladyfriend…we are on a mission to get her to have some fun. It’s 3am and I met up with her at 5pm, I’m 109% sure my makeup has been long gone from my face, my hair is probably dying to be let go from the grips of a million bobby pins and I’m surprised I am still awake let alone functioning. We’ve been dancing for hours, laughing at her ridiculous choice of wardrobe because we were only suppose to meet up for drinks not early morning club session.

Anyways, I notice my partner in funky town dance moves has left my side…and we all know you can’t funky town alone. I quickly find her, sweat dripping from her long hair and nudge her to scoot over, she doesn’t. I search for places to rest my big ol ass and find one, and just as I was backing my ass up some man swooped his ass in. Now me being…well, me…excuse me, my big ass was about to sit there, scoot yours over! The man looks at me, I recognize him but don’t say anything as he makes room for my ass.

My legs are dangling because I’m too freaking short for whatever I’m sitting on, and I always make a point to kick my feet in the air when they don’t touch the floor. The guy looks at me, “hey, how do I know you”? Me being me again, oh unno, we swapped spit at a house party 5 years ago. We proceed to reintroduce ourselves which wasn’t needed for me due to the fact that I remember nothing of importance and everything else. We sit there and watch his friend nuzzle my friend, I start to get up, he grabs my hand and asks me to dance (new funky town dancing buddy)?.

Not to my surprise he was actually pretty good on his toes. We danced for hours until my friend came up to me and stated she was leaving. I told her to go, I’ll catch a cab. She looked up and down at my male suitor and told me, “once I saw him, I knew you would go home with him”. She flashed a cheeky smile as I rolled my eyes. The only reason she stated that was the fact that the male suitor happened to be a light skinned black man and apparently that’s my type. Whatever, he was nice to look at and I figure why the hell not, if he wants to drive me home…I’m game. He isn’t like a stranger, I met him 5 years ago (great woman’s logic).

The make suitor, touched my arm and asked if he could take me home, I flash my pearly whites and nod. As we are walking to his beautiful car (my jaw dropped that this young whipper-snapper had a fancy whip) I kindly tell the man, we can sleep together but not really sleep together, I mean all we will be doing is sleeping. He nodded and said that he understood.

Yes, now I know you don’t bring strangers to your home, especially if you’re a single girl, live alone and we were taught better…but the reality is, we all do it…we all act a fool but to be completely honest, I’m really good at reading people, and I have my form of weapons all over my house…just in case.

Regardless, he stayed the night, without crossing the line, and he cuddled me which was really nice to have. To top it off I’ve seen the gentleman a few more times since then.

The Myth about all of this, I’m choosing to not feel bad about what I do while I’m single, who I choose to bring home…who I decided to give the cookie too. I will not beat myself up for living a little, for enjoying my single days, because one day, I’ll be waking up to the same man for the rest of my life and I never want to look back regretting that I didn’t fully live my single years. Now I’m not saying, go be a whore but does it really matter? I’m not in high school, I’m a 26 year old single female, I’m independent and strong…who gives a flying fuck what I do. As long as I’m happy and I’m fully comfortable with my actions, I’m good.

I’m going to do me, proudly!

The “Gay” Man

I’ve come to realize that when a man doesn’t seem to give two flying fucks about me and turns into a unicorn my friends and I automatically assume he is a gay man.

He had to be gay, there is no reason for him not to adore me.

I’m really a catch, he has to love penis as much as I do.

He really is into his body, do you think being around all those men in the gym make him attracted to them?

He’s dresses way to well to be straight, I don’t know how I didn’t see it.

There is no way he could be dating another girl, he’s to feminine for women.

Literally, there are millions of statements from myself and my lady friends claiming the men that loved us and left us are swinging for the other team. I can’t tell you how many times that this has happened and how many times we’ve found out they are indeed homosexual (ZERO).

Now just because of this post and The Lipstick (Non) Lesbian Post it may seem that I am slightly confused on how being a lesbian or a gay man work, and that I seem to be making a lot of conclusions with just assumptions. Well yes, I am, because I’m fucking crazy and I have to have answers and if I don’t…I make them up in my crazy woman head and call it a mother fucking day.

By the way, I love everyone, whether you like women or men and no matter what race or sex you are…I only don’t like you when you fuck with my brains (or my friends).

Anyways, I actually just stumbled upon my crazy woman moment when talking to my friend about a non mutual friends situation with her lame ass boyfriend (he brings lame to another level and he just is a sucky human with a penis and bad taste in life). Any who, I blabbed about how mean and horrible this man was as I kept seeking advice from my friend I kept ending every statement with, he must be gay…my friend is a nurse…she is honestly the best person…he’s gay. After the 7th time my friend stated laughing and pointed out the fact that I always jump to this conclusion.

I finally figured it out. I don’t want to admit that sometimes men just suck and they don’t like us. I bet you anything if they were gay they would be my best friend! I keep trying to justify why they don’t like me or my lady friends but it’s simply because they suck not because they enjoy penis as much as I do.

I need to start thinking of other crazy conclusions or maybe I’m a “lesbian”…. Oh Baby Jesus, I’m the lesbian girl they’ve talked to but was too independent, cursed like a sailor, had pink hair, talks to her “best friend” every morning at 9:30 and her “mother” every evening at 11. HOLY SHIT! (light bulb)

I’m going to go drown my sorrows in a bottle of red wine…it has to be 5 o’clock somewhere in the fucking world.

My sister doesn’t do the penis…I’m going to ask her if I give off the carpet munching vibe.

The 4 Eyes

I’m having vision problems (along with every other problem I have too).

I can’t see, I’ve had old lady eyes since I can remember. I’ve also had every eyeglass on the face of the planet; the coke bottle glasses, the matching glasses with my mother, the glasses that turned into sunglasses, the glasses I sat on, the glasses that everyone played keep away from me (even though I needed the fuckers), the glasses that lasted for 8 months until my vision changed and they were useless, the glasses that were a trend and no longer cool for the entire 2 years I had them….I mean, I’ve done and seen it all (kinda).

I’m 26, and my eyes have decided to hate me! Literally, I’m whimpering and I have one eye closed as I type this. I shouldn’t be staring at a bright computer screen but I can no longer sit in a dark room without bitching about my damn sight.

My vision changed two optical lenses added with some fancy words that I don’t know what they mean, he was better off saying, “you’re eyes decided they no longer wish to be working with you and they now are on strike, so for the next 7 days you’re going to hate life.“.

He was right, I do hate life.

Basically, I have to apply mass amounts of goopy shit to my eyes, spend billions of dollars on fancy eye drops and look like a stoner with swollen red eyes for a week until they decided they want to be my friend again.

I mean, all this wouldn’t be so bad if my vision didn’t suck before and I had glasses that made my blurry vision crystal clear, but my glasses aren’t the correct prescription, so my blurry vision is slightly less blurry. For heavens sake, I thought a spider was a hair tie and I picked it up…fail. I also work with people, I look crazy.

The only positive thing I see (haha) is that my lovely parental units get to chauffeur me around and take me to and from work. I literally, sit in the back and direct them. I laugh, they grumble and then I laugh some more.

I also have been finding really cleaver ways to text them when work is out.

Me: Hello, hello Chauffeur?
Family: (crickets)

Me: SOS
Family: SOL
(this one scared me, I messaged back a few minutes later making sure I wasn’t going to walk the million miles home…they came)

Me: Home, James
Family: (my father sends me a photo of my nephew mooning, captioned with “Bite Me”).

You know you can’t see when the doctor tells you not to drive.