can’t get enough of your love babe

Yesterday’s writing was much more successful. It was almost the sonic boom of writing. I felt the earth move, that’s for sure. Today is going to be a challenge. Schools are closed, so I have to deal with a houseful of people. The earth may be moving today, but in a ‘opening up and swallowing the kids’ kinda way.

Speaking of the earth moving…

I took the boys to meet their grandmother at the movie on Sunday. We got there a little early, so I parked and we just waited in the car. I had my crackberry, so I was happy as a clam texting my friend and trying to take incriminating pics of the boys so I can embarrass them on Facebook. I love being a mom.

After a few minutes, Ian says, “Mom, they’re totally making out over there.” I figured he was just trying to divert me from my picture taking quest, but then one look at his pink ears and open mouth and I realized he was telling the truth.

So I glance at the car next to me and HOLY VOYEUR BATMAN! were they making out! They had laid the passenger seat all the way down and the girl was laid all the way out on the dude. (Thought it was two girls at first. Dude had some long hair, but no. Boy and girl.)

They weren’t out of high school, but were probably both 16. The total abandon they had while dry humping amazed me. I’ll admit, I watched for a while, completely forgetting my kids were in the car. (There goes Mother of the Year again. Dammit!) But I was fascinated (and yeah, I like to watch I was watching for research! Sue me.) It was broad damn daylight. They weren’t even parked in the back of the lot…it was the middle row, maybe the 4th slot. There were cars all around us. If they had wanted privacy, they would’ve gone somewhere else. Or waited til dark.

Listen, I’ll admit to some parking love during the early years. It’s fun. And naughty. But even I wasn’t brave enough to just park in the middle of a busy day time parking lot and work my way to 2nd base.

Ian tried to pretend not to watch, that was kinda funny. Once they laid the seat down, he couldn’t see anything from where he was sitting, but I had a bird’s eye view. So when the girl slipped her shirt off, I got a really good look at her pretty purple lace bra. (It was a dark purple, almost eggplant) And I got another really good look as the boy’s nervous hand moved from her shoulder, to under her strap, to down…

And then I started the car and drove away. Because you know, there’s only so much watching a girl can do (in the name of research of course) with her kids in the car. And even though I know the kids couldn’t see anything, I couldn’t in good conscience stay there any longer (unfortunately). So I dropped them off with my mom and drove back to my spot to finish watching home. I will admit to being curious. Did he get her bra off? In the middle of a busy parking lot? In broad daylight?

What say you?

In honor of our young horny couple, I offer you Barry White, dressed in awesome.

It’s dirty little secret time!

It’s been far too long since I’ve admitted a dirty little secret. Here is a list of past secrets:

Yes, these are all my dirty little confessions. And now I have another one.

I am so relieved that Ron Weasley Rupert Grint is 20 years old, because now my crush on him doesn’t seem quite so forbidden.

It’s the red hair. And the smile.

And the accent.

Mostly it’s the hair.

Maybe my dirty little secret isn’t my mad crush on a 20 year old, it’s the fact that I dig gingers.

Case in point:

Eric Stoltz. He has always been Some Kind of Wonderful to me. Sigh.

David Caruso. Maybe not so much now, but when I first saw him on NYPD Blue, I lost a little piece of my heart to him.

Damian Lewis. If you don’t watch Life, you’re missing out. Either way, he’s my latest ginger crush.

Maybe if Matt Damon was a red head, we’d still be together. Who knows?

Dear Matt Damon,

Dear Matt Damon,

It is with a heavy heart that I write you this letter. We have been not-so-secret pretend lovers for a very long time. And you have been so good to me. And when I say good, I mean REALLY good to me. But I’ve come to realize that it’s just not working anymore.

Another man has caught my eye and captured my heart.

Simon Baker is the man for me. He makes my heart do weird things and makes me tingly in all the right places. I’ve always had a crush on him, but now that he enters my living room every week, my crush has grown to love. He is my new not-so-secret pretend lover.

I realize this hurts. I know you’re going to want to fight for me. I understand. But please man! Keep your dignity in tact. It’s over. Accept it. We’ve had some good times together. I hope those memories will soften this blow.

You will always have a special place in my heart. But it’s time for me to move on. I will always love you, just not in that way.

Yours in Platonic Love,
Mel

fanatsy island…tell me about your fantasy hero

I’ve blogged about this before, but I feel like it’s time to resurrect one of my favorite topics. The Alpha Male.

I love a bad boy. Always have. Over the years I’ve realized that the bad boy is my fantasy…one that I never wanted as my life partner. Not that Fishdog isn’t a bit of a bad boy—he totally is. Bald head, long goatee, loud and confident. (all he’s missing is an eyebrow piercing and a tattoo—he’s thinking about the tattoo. Don’t think I’ll ever convince him to pierce his eyebrow.) Either way, he definitely looks the part. But overall, he’s a teddy bear. He’s the perfect guy for me in real life.

But I’m not talking real life today; I’m talking about fantasy world.

I know there are women out there who love to read/watch/fantasize about the ‘Beta’ hero. As Kwana says “Apples and oranges.” I have no problem with a Beta man. In the real world, they make the great partners (for some women). But for me, when I’m indulging in a fantasy, it’s all about the attitude. And Betas just don’t have what I’m looking for.

It’s not just about a hot body and a pretty face (although, truth be told, that doesn’t hurt) it’s about mind-set and self-assurance. Shy is cute, but confidence turns me on.

Look at DeAnna on the Bachelorette. Who was she the most attracted to? Graham. He was confident and cocky and very closed off. But his aura was sex-on-a-stick. Was he the right guy for her? Nope. But could she stay away? Nope. The air sizzled when they were together. All that sexual frustration would end up coming out—usually in the form of a fight. What they needed was one week all alone without any clothing. They were never going to have a real relationship, but damn they would’ve had fun getting all that out of their system with some hot, sweaty, monkey-love.

Louisa blogged about this not too long ago. Her question was: how tough is too tough. Well for me, it’s not about actually being tough. (Though I’m not opposed to a tough guy). For me, Alpha/Bad-Boy really is all in the attitude. You can be an electrician or an accountant and still be Alpha. Or a snowboarder. Look at Jesse on the Bachelorette. He’s soft spoken and quiet most of the time, but his confidence is off the charts. It’s damn sexy…and it is the reason he’s in the final two. But will he be the one she picks? Probably not. Because the thing that draws us to an Alpha is the very thing that makes them a difficult life partner—they’re not easily complemented. DeAnna and Graham butted heads because they were both very Alpha. Sexual tension was so thick between them, but other than that, they were oil and water. Jesse and DeAnna would do the same. Even though he has a bit of both, I think the bad boy in him would be hard to settle down. And that’s what she wants more than anything right now.

But that’s why Alphas make such awesome fantasies, because we don’t want to change them, we want to believe we’re the perfect complement to them! However, I’m not sure that’s possible in real life.

What do you think? Can a true Alpha make a good real life hero? Or is it that impossible? I think real life heroes are a good mix of Alpha/Beta (would that make them Gamma?) but when I fantasize, I like my men damn near Cro-Magnon. Okay, with smaller foreheads and a better vocabulary…but you get the picture.

Tell me, oh blog readers, what do you think? And guys—what about the chicks? Do you like them with confidence or do you prefer them pretty, pliable, and mute? The less expressive the better? Or is that just your fantasy girl? Seriously, I’m curious. What type of girls do guys fantasize about (and I’m not just talking about a nice set of tits).

Go on. Talk amongst yourselves.

dirty bitch

I’m a dirty bitch right now.

I’ve come back to Oxford to dust and mop for our Open House this weekend and I am filthy.

Who knew there could be so much dust in one house…especially in the blinds? (probably everyone knew but me since I apparently never dust. Hey Mel, if you dusted more, this wouldn’t be a problem!)

So, anyway, that’s not the only thing that makes me dirty…I discovered yesterday that something really is wrong with me.

It’s not a secret that I’m not right in the head. Not long ago, I confessed my lust for Steve from Blue’s Clues. I opened up my heart and let it bleed on my blog. And now I’m about to do it again.

Remember the country boy from Sling Blade? You know, little Lucas Black? Well, I’ve been watching this boy grow up and finding my thoughts turning toward the impure as he became a teenager. Friday Night Lights was a great movie (and a great TV show, too) and Lucas was extremely hot. But too young for me to call hot, so I just ignored the naughtiness that meandered inside me. But then last night, I finally watched The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift. Oh how my naughty river flowed once again.

Thank God he’s 25 years old now. At least I’m not as dirty as I first thought. Which I think is a good thing…

i’m at a loss…

So my naughty river post about Steve Burns tickled me so much that it must’ve dried out my blogging river. I don’t know what the hell I’m going to blog about.

I have to say, if I’m forced to choose between a naughty river and my blogging river, naughty is gonna win, hands down. I figure that’s a win-win choice, anyway. Eventually, the naughty river should inspire a post…though I’m not sure if I’ll be able to actually publish it.

In the writing world, I’ve been slowly working away on Bite Me! as well as putting together a new proposal–this time an adult book. Carving time to write is sometimes difficult, but I seem to manage when I focus on it. It’s something I really want (and am now getting paid) to do, so I just make it a priority.

OH I KNOW WHAT I CAN TELL Y’ALL!

Okay, so the other day, a dude was in the office. He was an older dude, not old-old, but not a spring chicken either. He was waiting to interview with someone in the company. Our receptionist was away from the front so I asked old dude if I could help him.

He smiled and read my sweatshirt. (my sweatshirt reads: CAREFUL OR YOU’LL WIND UP IN MY NOVEL)

OLD DUDE: I wanna be in your novel. What kind of novel is it?
ME: A vampire novel
OLD DUDE: Oh. (look of dejection) I can’t be in that novel. Well, I guess you can make me an unwilling victim. Hey, did you hear that Anne Rice is a Christian now??
ME: You know, you can be a Christian and write fiction. It’s been known to happen. Honest.

I have no tolerance for that kind of thinking. None. What. So. Ever.

I try to be a fair minded individual but come on. To make an assumption about someone’s spirituality (or lack thereof) because of the type of fiction they write or read is ludicrous. It’s absurd. And it pisses me the fuck off.

But, if they want to make enough of a stink about it that it shoots me to the bestseller list, then go ahead. Stink away.

i’m at a loss…

So my naughty river post about Steve Burns tickled me so much that it must’ve dried out my blogging river. I don’t know what the hell I’m going to blog about.

I have to say, if I’m forced to choose between a naughty river and my blogging river, naughty is gonna win, hands down. I figure that’s a win-win choice, anyway. Eventually, the naughty river should inspire a post…though I’m not sure if I’ll be able to actually publish it.

In the writing world, I’ve been slowly working away on Bite Me! as well as putting together a new proposal–this time an adult book. Carving time to write is sometimes difficult, but I seem to manage when I focus on it. It’s something I really want (and am now getting paid) to do, so I just make it a priority.

OH I KNOW WHAT I CAN TELL Y’ALL!

Okay, so the other day, a dude was in the office. He was an older dude, not old-old, but not a spring chicken either. He was waiting to interview with someone in the company. Our receptionist was away from the front so I asked old dude if I could help him.

He smiled and read my sweatshirt. (my sweatshirt reads: CAREFUL OR YOU’LL WIND UP IN MY NOVEL)

OLD DUDE: I wanna be in your novel. What kind of novel is it?
ME: A vampire novel
OLD DUDE: Oh. (look of dejection) I can’t be in that novel. Well, I guess you can make me an unwilling victim. Hey, did you hear that Anne Rice is a Christian now??
ME: You know, you can be a Christian and write fiction. It’s been known to happen. Honest.

I have no tolerance for that kind of thinking. None. What. So. Ever.

I try to be a fair minded individual but come on. To make an assumption about someone’s spirituality (or lack thereof) because of the type of fiction they write or read is ludicrous. It’s absurd. And it pisses me the fuck off.

But, if they want to make enough of a stink about it that it shoots me to the bestseller list, then go ahead. Stink away.

i’ll be your bitch, steve…

Okay, I have a confession to make. It’s not a pretty one and it may shock some folks, but I can’t go on until I clear my conscience–or cleanse my soul. Or just say it out loud to make myself happy. Whatever.

I’m a naughty girl. (this is not my whole confession…merely an attempt at an explanation) I have always known myself to be slightly naughty, but then one morning a long time ago, as my child and I watched Nick Jr. , I discovered that my naughty river ran deep.

I developed a crush on Steve from Blue’s Clues.

It’s true. Even wearing that green striped shirt and with that stupid haircut, I found myself crushing on Steve. Deep inside my naughty river, I knew that Steve was more than Blue’s favorite playmate. That he needed an outlet for his creativity and (boy could I think of some creative ways to give him his outlet).

But the more I had these thoughts, the dirtier I felt. This is STEVE. From BLUE’S CLUES. I mean, what kind of sicko has thoughts like “I’ve got a clue for ya.” or “I’ll be your bitch.”

So, I repressed my dirty side and my naughty river dried up. Or so I thought.

Thanks to Feisty, my naughty river is running at full speed again. Hell, it’s crashed the dam and flooded all the little good girl villages that had successfully taken over during the drought.

You see, Steve Burns is an indie rocker. He’s a friend of The Flaming Lips and he has an album out and another one on the way.

And he’s sexxxy. Check out his MySpace Page. And I’m in LURVE again. But this time, my naughtiness is justified as there are no little blue dogs running around nipping at his feet and he’s not wearing that ugly ass green shirt and talking to salt and pepper shakers.

He’s rocking out and I’m now a very naughty fangirl.

i’ll be your bitch, steve…

Okay, I have a confession to make. It’s not a pretty one and it may shock some folks, but I can’t go on until I clear my conscience–or cleanse my soul. Or just say it out loud to make myself happy. Whatever.

I’m a naughty girl. (this is not my whole confession…merely an attempt at an explanation) I have always known myself to be slightly naughty, but then one morning a long time ago, as my child and I watched Nick Jr. , I discovered that my naughty river ran deep.

I developed a crush on Steve from Blue’s Clues.

It’s true. Even wearing that green striped shirt and with that stupid haircut, I found myself crushing on Steve. Deep inside my naughty river, I knew that Steve was more than Blue’s favorite playmate. That he needed an outlet for his creativity and (boy could I think of some creative ways to give him his outlet).

But the more I had these thoughts, the dirtier I felt. This is STEVE. From BLUE’S CLUES. I mean, what kind of sicko has thoughts like “I’ve got a clue for ya.” or “I’ll be your bitch.”

So, I repressed my dirty side and my naughty river dried up. Or so I thought.

Thanks to Feisty, my naughty river is running at full speed again. Hell, it’s crashed the dam and flooded all the little good girl villages that had successfully taken over during the drought.

You see, Steve Burns is an indie rocker. He’s a friend of The Flaming Lips and he has an album out and another one on the way.

And he’s sexxxy. Check out his MySpace Page. And I’m in LURVE again. But this time, my naughtiness is justified as there are no little blue dogs running around nipping at his feet and he’s not wearing that ugly ass green shirt and talking to salt and pepper shakers.

He’s rocking out and I’m now a very naughty fangirl.

this is dedicated to the one I love


I may be in lust with Matthew McConawhatever, but my heart lies with the man in the picture. Sigh. Sorry ladies, he’s taken. But hang in there, your prince charming will show up one day. Mine did. On January 26, 1993. And I married him April of the next year. TWU WUB.

897