It’s Saturday night and you’re cradling the jumbo bag of Doritos, remote in hand with enough empty beer bottles to start your own booth at the next fair. You ask yourself the same old question. “What does she see in him?” Is he really smoother than a fresh jar of Skippy?
The answer is much more simple than you think. You see, “He” is confident. He believes in himself. Sure you have a great job, nice car and maybe even own your own home. You sound like a great catch on paper. The problem is mating instincts are primal. Ever wonder why big booties are all the rage? The answer is birthing hips. See, it’s primal. Logic has no place in the dating world.
Choosing a mate is rarely ever done with careful planning. Something in our hardwire tells us to find the one we would do battle with. If you’re going to wage a war on this thing called life you choose the mate with confident stance and sword drawn. He is a bit narcissistic but never needs coddling. This is a recipe for disaster should wedding bells ring but she is not thinking that far ahead. Honestly, she is not thinking at all. Something in her center draws her to him like bears to honey.
Your answer in a nutshell: Confidence is sexy. So, ditch the Netflix and hit the gym. Throw on some leather, rev your engine and grunt. This is why she dates the “Bad Boys”.
*All above opinions have not been scientifically researched nor proven to be true. Said scientists were last seen in the gym flexing and grunting.
Daily Prompt: Smooth
Single. There was a time in my twenties this word would have terrified me. Now, I am embracing it. Relationships, I’ve had a few. I use to regret some but know I’m thankful for the experience. Oh sure, I probably could have lived without ever having a gun pointed at me or having someone spit in my face but even those weren’t all bad. No one is all bad.
Today I am happy. No one yells at me. No one tells me what I can or can’t do. I am flying solo and finding a little peace on earth.
I amaze myself daily. I take on projects now knowing that there is no one to back me up. Yes, it’s scary sometimes but you just keep moving forward.
Today I can laugh at some of the crazy things I did in an effort to please a man:
1. Stumble to the kitchen every morning for years because he can’t possibly arise without an obsequious woman serving him coffee in bed.
2. Give up gum because any woman who pops a piece of Wrigleys is obviously a “gum smacking whore.”
3. Glaze 45 windows because he can’t do repetition.
4. Pick up an exconvict from a 10 year stay in a maximum security prison. (I know, I was shocked when he informed me of this duty.)
5. Pour a concrete sidewalk around the house by myself because his back was out.
6. Process three deer in one day.
7. Can tomatoes from 45 tomato plants. Seriously, that’s about nine hundred pounds of tomatoes.
8. Make 7 different banana puddings in an effort to find one that pleases him. As you can guess, none were perfect enough.
The list may be endless but my willingness to participate was not. I guess I always believed if I tried hard enough the sun would shine on me. Well, suck it up buttercup because “fair” is a place for cotton candy and monkey poop.
I prefer to say I’m single instead of divorced. Divorced sounds so broken. I am not broken. I was. I felt like shattered glass. I refuse to lie in peices. I took the broken shards and fused them. Now I’m a Tiffany!
Meet Ted. E. Bear. He lives above my mantel with two of his friends. Do you ever wonder who the first guy was to stuff a dead animal and bring it in the house? How did that conversation even happen?
“Hey Bobby Jack, I just kilt this here critter and I was a thinkin. It aint good enough to just eat the meat. Lets stuff this sucker and hang his head on the wall.”
How did Bobby Jack talk his wife into letting him do this? “Now Ethel, you know you’re meaner than an Ol’ snake and I just thought it be right nice to have a happy face in this house.”
I’m pretty sure it’s a requirement to keep dead things in the house when you live in Arkansas. It only turns strange when you start to dress them up. Ok, so Ted does enjoy his santa hat at Christmas and has been known to wear garland like a feather boa.
Where do we go from here? Next thing you know we’ll be stuffin’ Uncle Earl and settin’ him at the dinner table.
What are you doing? You’re reading this aren’t you. Someone will know. You’re such a rebel. Rule breaker! You might as well keep going now. I feel I must tell you though, these are minutes of your life that you can’t get back. Somewhere in your heart you just know there will be a life changing bit of knowledge in here. Your vested now. There is no turning back.
DON’T SCROLL DOWN! Didn’t think I would notice you skipping ahead? Seriously, can you just try to be good for once.
Ok, so here it is. Shame, failure, my little secret. I saw a post on facebook that said “If you love your Mother, share this post in 2 seconds.” I didn’t do it. I didn’t. I hesitated. Then I just didn’t do it. I know, how do I sleep at night? Yesterday I didn’t love Jesus in 10 seconds. How do I live with myself? How can I go on with this sham I’m living?
Will I burn in hell now? Is there hope for my recovery? I fear I may have crossed a line that I cannot return from. If you see my vacant soul roaming the streets please return it to my husband. He is hungry and out of clean undies now.
It’s your last day on earth. How do you spend yours? I want to spend mine in a room full of puppies.
Good morning world. It’s a fabulous day and Pearl thinks we should go play. I’m a little leery since lately I can’t seem to step outside with causing injury to myself. I think I’ll cover myself in bubble wrap.
We are having our first “cool snap” of the year. Ok, so it’s going to be in the 80’s all week but that’s cool to me. I’ve opened up the house and time to get some cleaning done so I can go play. Y’all have a most fabulous day!
Things I learned today:
- A 9.5 foot kayak will fit in my car.
- Windshields’ don’t budge when shoving 9.5 foot kayaks in your car.
- Never listen to my husband.
Me: Do you think it’s safe to drive like this?
Husband: Why sure, you’ll just get a bit of wind that’s all.
Me: Ok, if you say so.
Husband: When you get home put mine in there too.
Husband: Really, it will fit.
Ms. Nancy from Clarksdale Mississippi shuffles over to hover around Uncle Charles as he picks at today’s lunch. Since Uncle Charles is the only white man left in this wing that can still walk, many of the women assume he is their spouse. Now, I should probably tell you first that Ms. Nay-an-see is from Clawks-day-yell Miss-uh-sip-pee. She’s an old southern bell with a twist. Ms. Nancy is wearing her hot pink capris backwards today and her zebra striped tennis shoes are on the wrong feet. She hones in on me to let me know that the Minister gave the finest sermon this morning over at Clarksdale Baptist. Ms. Nancy does not know she is in Tennessee. She tries to place me and decides I must have lived over on School Street. Before I could get away my chin was grasped in her tiny hand as she declares that I am the most precious thing ever.
I tried to encourage Uncle Charles to eat as he is down to all bones these days. He carefully places a little square of hamburger bun on his spoon and raises it to his mouth. It plops to his lap but Ms. Nancy is ready. She grabs a napkin and reaches for his lap when she stops in midair. She turns to me and says “Honey, you better get that as I do not wish to get slapped today.”
Aunt Tiny is oblivious to the flirtation happening with her husband just one table over. It really doesn’t matter as he is oblivious too. Ms. Helen yells out “IT’S NOT MY FAULT!” Uncle Charles glares at her so she throws in a loud “BASTARD!” He is fuming now though he does not know why. He tells Ms. Helen to shut her damn mouth. The sweet little elderly ladies at the Manor have become foul mouth balls of anger. They spit out words they would have never said before.
We decorated Aunt Tiny’s room though she would not sit with us today. She did thank us for coming by but she really had to go. She grabbed Uncle Charles and began her pacing up and down the hall. She does this every day. I don’t think they knew who we were today. Sometimes I think a faded memory passes by but it is too muddled to sort through.
I do not wish to wait for God in this manner.
He walked up and down the River Market careful not to linger anywhere too long so as not to be called a vagrant or a nuisance. His hair was matted and his black jeans were caked with brown. He passed many people on his strolls but all turned away. He is not part of our world. He wanders as a ghost in a land he does not belong. We sat in a restaurant and I watched as the world avoided his presence. I had my camera and longed to take his picture. He was gone when we stepped out from our fulfilling lunch. His belly empty except for the remnants of last night’s cheap whiskey.