He climbed on top of me and started kissing me passionately. I felt my labia start to swell. I couldn’t take the amount of heat radiating between our two souls any longer. I slid my nails into the strong, lean part of his back. He began to scream, “AHHHHH!!”
One of my fake nails was lodged into his back. I turned to him and slowly removed it with my teeth. I could tell that this made Michael’s heat get very erect. He slowly rose above me to show me his hard manhood. I stared in awe and slowly began to move my mouth closer to it. Just as my tongue was about to touch it, I suddenly stopped and said, “What is that?”
He looked down at his manhood and saw a large blister on it.
He smiled reassuringly and said, “It’s a love blister, darling.”
I looked at him and smiled. “Just like mine.” And pointed to the one on my lip.
“Oh, Michael, I always knew we were meant for each other.”
Do you think there’s a market for comedic Harlequin novels? Probably not. Anyway, once you get past the honeymoon phase of a relationship, romance seems to get phased out. Ask most of your married friends if they even make out during sex anymore, and most of them will say, “No, we don’t.” Even though most women crave it and want to make out, we have to feel in a romantic mood. But after being in a relationship for so long, sometimes sex becomes a way to get off instead of lovemaking. Romance is different and you actually have to work at it. Romance requires imagination and creativity. Unfortunately, most married sex lacks this completely—unless the guy thinks squeezing your nipples is romantic. If he does, I would start plucking out each one of his pubic hairs, asking him how romantic that feels.
The thing about making out is that there are no sexual stimulations in your mouth, so true passion requires feeling in your heart and head. Only then will the butterflies in your belly dance. But if your head isn’t in the right place, those butterflies are going on a coffee break. Remember, romance is a two-way street. In order to get some, you also have to give some. So give it a try, and if he doesn’t respond, simply start plucking out his pubic hairs one by one. Ouch!
Honey, Where’s the Visa Bill?
People say that money doesn’t buy happiness—well, they can all kiss my ass. I grew up with hardly any money, and I still seem to be living from paycheck to paycheck. I guarantee that money is the source of many marital fights.
I remember when I was a little girl and the only thing I worried about was what my mom was going to make for dinner. Not the gas bill or even tuition. Even though we didn’t have a lot of money, my parents did a good job of hiding their concerns. I’m sure after they put us to bed at night they bit off their nails trying to get the mortgage paid that month. I so miss those days when bills were not my problem. Even when you move out as a young adult you freak out not being able to pay a credit card bill, but it’s a different degree of stress. It’s a whole lot different when you’re married and your baby needs diapers and your credit card is maxed out. Financial stability in marriage is something couples dream of and hope to achieve before they die. It seems that every time we try to build a nest egg something happens, like the car breaks down, and the nest egg is empty again. Why are we always struggling to stay above water? I don’t care what anybody says, money has to at least buy a sense of peace.
I was the one in the marriage who was always freaked out about our finances. John is a director, and in the business we are in, we are constantly unemployed. Yes, I make a decent income, but sometimes I can go for months without working and that nest egg disappears quickly. I hated it. We were constantly up, down, up, down. After I had my son I made a promise to myself that anytime someone offered me anything, I would take it. I’ve got a family. I could care less if people make fun of me because I just did a herpes ointment commercial. (Okay, I probably wouldn’t do a herpes ointment commercial, but you get the idea.) (Okay, yeah, actually I would.)
Another financial pain in the ass is wanting to buy things but having to hide them from your spouse. Usually one of you is the spender and the other is the penny-pincher. If you are the spender and still young in your marriage, I highly suggest being the one in charge of writing out the checks every month. This is really the only way to get away with buying things and not having to provide an explanation.
Personally, I think women make better money choices than men. Most men would use their extra money to buy surround sound stereo equipment, while women would at least buy a new dishwasher. Yet he would argue the stereo was more useful for the house.
The one thing I can say about money is that for some reason it always works out. You think you could be at the end of your rope, that there is no way you are ever going to get past this financial woe, and you always wind up pulling through. Sometimes it might require taking a loan from somewhere. But hopefully some higher power will make sure you can get to the next month.
So the next time that Visa bill comes in, don’t freak out. Either hide it from your husband or find ways to minimize your shopping sprees. And don’t be too surprised if you turn on your television and see me selling some new cream, saying, “Do you need some relief from your genital warts?”
Because I guarantee it’s going to happen!
I’m Fat and Saggy and I Have a Huge Zit on My Butt!
Yes, even I am painfully insecure. Don’t be fooled by any pictures you might see of me. The airbrushing technology today takes away every freckle, stretch mark, zit, and wrinkle. Not to mention that the computer can actually give a girl completely different boobs. I swear in my last layout I said to the photographer, “Those aren’t my boobs.” He replied with, “I know, don’t they look great? I even lengthened your legs and shaved your thighs.” He put somebody else’s boobs on my body! Everybody out here is a phony piece of shit. NOBODY in Hollywood looks like they do in pictures. This is why I would love to start adding a disclaimer after every layout….
“Please enjoy, boys, but to just let you know, the stretch marks, the cellulite, and the zit on my ass have been removed for your viewing pleasure.”
It’s really not fair that perfection is made through computer enhancing. It makes it physically impossible to keep up. I’ve seen the hottest of the hot out here—Jessica Simpson, Pamela Anderson, Carmen Electra—and they are all pretty girls, but when I look at them I say, “Wow, that’s not in the pictures.” And believe it or not, these are some of the most insecure girls I have ever met.
I still consider myself to be a Midwestern girl who is living in this foreign world called Hollywood. I’m glad I haven’t forgotten my roots and where I came from. I would love to get out and move back and eat ribs and mashed potatoes and hang out at the local bar and play darts, but I have a baby now and you can be sure I’m gonna use this town as much as it’s using me. It’s still hard, though, because when you break down all of my goofiness and crudeness I’m as insecure as the rest of them. I think my biggest physical insecurity is my stretch marks. If you read my other books you know that I got hammered by them, and I hate that they just won’t go away. They even look like they glow in the dark during sex. The thing that I keep trying to remind myself of is that men love a confident woman. Mind you, I am sure of myself in every other part of my life, but not here. The more confident you are, the more your man will be turned on. But how can I be confident about my stretch marks? Should I shout out in the heat of passion, “Touch my stretch marks, baby, oh yeah, run your fingers over those wavy purple indentations on my thighs!” Um…I think it would make him puke.
All right, enough of this woe-is-me shit. Let’s talk about getting proactive. I am not a fan of exercise, but it still remains the best way to get your fat, saggy ass in gear. Personally, I took up Weight Watchers. I still get to eat like a girl from the Midwest, but it taught me portion control. Now I feel and look better. I have more confidence.
So just remember, ladies, a confident women is usually a desired woman. Even though you have a white-head zit on your butt and your husband suddenly moves you into the dog
gy-style position, don’t panic! Stay confident and remind yourself that Jessica Simpson gets a few zits on her ass too!
The One Who Holds the TV Remote Is the One Who Is in Control!
Since the beginning, men have led the way. They were responsible for the shelter and protection of their families. I’m sure Adam was a real leader, moving branches out of the way for Eve. But even Adam did as Eve told him. She says, “Adam, eat the apple.”
He says, “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.
She says, “Just eat the stupid apple, it’s no big deal.”
He says, “But there’s a snake staring at us. I don’t know.”
She says, “WILL YOU JUST EAT THE FREAKING APPLE ALREADY!!!!”
And so he does.
So even though men might appear to have everything under control, it truly is the women who rule the roost—even if we might make a bad decision once in a while. We are so lucky to live in a time and a place where we are able to speak up without being tortured.
I truly believe having a balance of power is the healthiest kind of relationship. I’ve met wives who abuse this, though, and their poor husbands are walking around with their tail between their legs. That’s not fair, either. Hopefully you are with someone who will let you speak your mind but will not let you walk all over him.
I tend to control too much. I have a problem thinking that if it’s not done my way it’s probably going to be done wrong, so I wind up doing everything! I really need to learn how to relax and say, “Oh, f*ck it.” But I’m years away from doing so.
Now as we all know, there have been some seriously controlling assholes in our history books. Caesar, Napoléon, and the H one. I can’t even say his name. Anyway, I honestly believe some women are still married to the reincarnated version. My friend just got out of a pretty controlling relationship. This is an example of where control gets out of control. If your partner is checking your voice-mail messages, reading your e-mail, telling you what and what not to wear, not letting you go to the gym to work out, and insulting you constantly so he ultimately feels in control, please get the HELL out of the relationship. When I asked my friend why she stayed with him for so long, she said that the more he controlled her and put her down, the more she would try and prove to him that she was good enough for his standards. She also said that she was hoping for change. That’s where you can get in big trouble! Most of us already know you can’t really change people; they have to want to change. There are millions of women out there stuck in these types of marriages. As you all know, this is not a self-help book, but for the love of God, if this is you, get some help. It took years for my friend to get rid of her Napoléon, and I hope and pray most women have the strength to tell theirs to f*ck off.
Most cases aren’t that severe, thank God. I think the majority of power struggles revolve around who gets to hold the TV remote at night. Men usually have it in their hand or near them like it’s an extension of their penis, and unfortunately if you feel like cuddling with him while watching a chick flick, good luck. We are usually the ones who have to go to the other TV so we can watch our cheesy reality shows.
Even though we can make men do what we want, it’s important to let your man feel like he’s in charge some of the time. So the next time he’s hogging the remote and acting like he’s in control, just smile and remind yourself that you both wear the pants in the family. His are just stinkier!
I’m Not PMS-ing…You Asshole!!
The worst thing your man can say to you while you’re PMS-ing is “You must be PMS-ing!” It can pretty much guarantee something thrown at his face or sex being withheld for an extra couple of weeks. The thing that sucks for me is that I PMS for ten to twelve days before my period. That’s almost half a month of me crying or talking to my man with my teeth clenched. And I don’t know about you, but it seems to be getting worse the older I get.
I try to remind myself that, as hard as PMS can be, it is also a very spiritual time of the month. You might say things that you never would at any other time, and by getting it all off your chest you accomplish so much that you put off month after month. The Native Americans call it a woman’s “moon time.” They say we have many spirit guides around us who help us take charge and use this energy to our advantage. Others might call you a bitch during this time, but if you pay close attention, you really do accomplish a lot.
Let’s talk about cravings. If you’ve been a follower of mine and read my last couple of books, you know that I have a HUGE appetite. For those of you who don’t know, I gained almost eighty pounds during my first pregnancy, and I still love to throw down a burger. My appetite during PMS feels like I’m on the third week of Survivor. I f*cking love food! God, this is making me hungry. This brings me to the topic of eating one of the naughtiest vices during this time of the month, and I don’t mean Brad Pitt. I’m talking about chocolate!! I’ve heard so many theories about why most women crave it, whether it’s a sugar pick-me-up or hormonal. I don’t really care; I’d lick it off a homeless man’s shopping cart if that was the only piece left on the earth.
If you are not a chocolate craver, you’re a salt craver during PMS. It’s funny when I ask women which they prefer. They respond like it’s their team they’re rooting for. They might even look at you funny if you’re not on their team. Whatever team you’re on, I have some very interesting “Jenny facts” about eating during PMS. (By the way, “Jenny facts” are facts found by me on Google or something I heard from friends. Don’t ever assume I know what I’m talking about…ever!)
So one PMS afternoon I was tearing through my pantry desperately trying to find anything to swallow. I was losing my mind. I started tearing stuff open and gorging. If you have ever seen an afterschool special where they show bulimics gorging food behind grocery stores, that’s me…every month…without the throwing-up part. Sometimes I choke because I forget to swallow, and a couple of times I almost bit off my finger. I’m not kidding. If you ever meet me in person ask me to show you some teeth marks on my finger. Anyway, as I was gorging away, I was pondering why women get SO hungry during PMS. I decided to sit down at my computer and Google it. I typed in Hungry during PMS. And to my surprise there was a lot of info on the Web. I found some of the best PMS news ever!!! It said that during PMS women get so hungry because they are burning 500 more calories a day. Our metabolism speeds up, and our body demands more fuel (or potato chips) to get through the day. RIGHT ON!!! That means we can get away with increasing our calorie intake without gaining the weight. It also means that if you still “watched what you ate” during this time you could possibly lose weight after your period. Do you ever notice sometimes that you actually feel and look a little leaner after your period (besides losing all the water weight)? That’s what happens when you don’t gorge. But I say screw that. I’m gonna pig out guilt-free.
Besides food, so many other things could throw you off during PMS: a bad hair day, the bitch in the office that looks at you weird, and the biggest one of all…your man!!!!!!! I swear to God I can hear the guy cutting his toenails three rooms away. Even chewing with his mouth open or saying stupid stuff like “Did you remember to buy water?” can honestly make me want to tear off his skin and run him over in my car.
So if you’ve also become a chocolate-craving psycho bitch, just know that it really is okay. And if your man is underneath a car and you’re sitting behind the wheel, just smile at the police officer and ask him if he’s got any chocolate.
Um…Because…Um…My Vagina Is Sleepy?
Sometimes you’re just not in the mood. No, let me take that back. Usually women are too tired to be in the mood. Nowadays it amazes me how much we women have to do to keep our families running smoothly. Unfortunately, saying you’re too tired night after night gets old and can cause your partner to think it’s him. That’s why you need to come up with some better excuses.
The old headache scenario has been done to death, but if that’s all you can think of at the last minute, go with
it. But try to be a little more convincing. Don’t say you have a horrible headache and then go put on a Walkman and listen to Metallica. You’ve got to work it a little. Pretend to take some Advil and talk with crunched-up eyebrows. Even request a lay-down while he watches the baby. Being a good actress is necessary when you’re using an excuse to get out of sex.
The same acting is required for the bellyache routine. You can’t say you are too nauseous for sex and then go make yourself some chili. Go stick a Tums in your mouth and occasionally moan. Even push out a couple of farts and say, “See, I told you.”
The only easy non-acting one is to simply go to sleep. Most of the time your husband won’t wake you up. He might try a little by poking your leg with his hard-on, but for the most part, if you snooze you don’t lose!
I think the only thing women enjoy about getting their period is that it’s a solid excuse. The great thing is that it’s not even an excuse! They can’t blame us at all for “Aunt Flo” coming on what was supposed to be sex night. Occasionally I would hear, “I don’t care if you have your period.” And I would quickly reply, “GROSS!” It amazes me that men are still willing to go there even though you’re flowing like the Nile.
The absolute best excuse, hands-down winner, no way, no how he would want sex from you is…the yeast infection. (Read more on these in “Is That a Lobster in Your Pants or Are You Just Happy to See Me?”) The only problem with this one is that if you use it too many times he’s going to think you have a serious problem with your vagina and will start to stay away from it more than you’d like him to. This is the one I use in desperate need because there is no way men want to get near it and really the only acting required is a little itch itch.
Life Laughs: The Naked Truth about Motherhood, Marriage, and Moving On Page 4
