The hottest ho I know (we’ll call her “The Destroyer”) asked me to blog my guilty pleasures. And when The Destroyer asks a question, mama answers. Plus, what better way to kick off the 2012 holiday season of “Warmth in the Arctic Circle” (WAC), than by telling you the dark things that make me happy? Once I started making my long and dirty list, I started asking my shady friends what their guilty pleasures were… some are listed here, but I won’t say which ones are mine and which ones belong to those sluts. We gotta keep it interesting. I would like to begin by asking sweet little baby Jesus to forgive himself for the way he created us.
People falling down.
People falling down is funny, so long as they don’t hurt themselves (I’m not that much of a dick). I almost ended my marriage once because I laughed my ass off when Sugardaddy slipped and fell at his office after hours and, unfortunately for him, I was there to witness it in all its glory.
Fights that include bitch slaps
This doesn’t need much explaining. It just makes me happy.
Like a cold beer on a hot summer day, or after I play sand-volleyball. Or before. Or during. Or right after I have a baby. I’m talkin’ like, the doctor hands me the slimey little baby in one hand, and some nameless bastard (or my husband) hands me a cold beer in the other. You have to ignore the dirty looks you get from the hospital staff. They’re just jealous because you’re drinking and they’re not.
I know… I’m supposed to hate these things. That’s what the 2nd wave feminists told me. Luckily, I’m like a 3rd or 4th wave feminist (if there is one, I don’t fuggin’ know). So I like things that look pretty. Including women and their clothing and accessories. Specifically, shoes and purses, blue jeans, hairstyles, hairstyling tips, fitness motivation, and makeup art. Maybe I have a hard time actually applying this crap to my life, but I like to read about it. I think of it as a time-out from real life, where I often sport workout items, not so much because I work out all the time, but because they’re stretchy. I also enjoy Esquire magazine. The writers are funny, and they always feature curvy women. I’m thinking about contacting them to have them permanently airbrush me. That’s how it works, right?
If you haven’t tried it, maybe you should. I’m listing this as a guilty pleasure because sexting gets such a bad rap. If your sex life isn’t enhanced in even the slightest degree by sexting, then maybe you’ve got some bigger problems on your hands. Just sayin’.
E! Entertainment Television
I could sit on a sofa and watch that train wreck all day. I like watching pretty people who shop all day, especially when their lives occasionally completely disintegrate before the eyes of the entire world. Then I remember they’re real people, and I just sink into an existential stupor, contemplating the meaning of life, the dire struggle of so many people around the world with access to next to nothing that they need to survive, and which celebrity’s Prada bag I liked the most. It’s okay though, because I’m drunk when this happens. Which leads me to…
So what if I like a little post-apocalyptic orgy action, taking place to a catchy pop song? We were also born just nine days apart, so I’m fairly certain that we have some sort of psychic connection. It explains her nervous breakdown a few years back. I would’ve come forward and taken responsibility for that, but I know she likes all that attention. You’re welcome, Britney.
If you are crazy-sexy-hot, dirty, sweaty, and not wearing a shirt, I wouldn’t mind seeing you engage in a fist fight with another man. Email me if you are interested in an audition (email@example.com). The closer it looks to this scene from Sherlock Holmes, the better.
Watching people squirm
Like telling your racist homophobic step-grandmother who hates your family that her grandson is gay and in a committed relationship with a black man. Or telling your husband about the dirty things your in-laws likely do to each other. Pure joy.
It’s bad for you, the whole mouth and throat cancer thing… but the taste of a cigar and a stiff drink on the lips of an attractive man makes mama want some. Which leads me to…
Masturbating during the kid’s nap time
Nobody, not even Chuck Norris himself, can get my two small children to nap at the same time. So I don’t even need to explain that this one isn’t mine, but I’m jealous as hell of that crazy slut. Anyone who is awarded this kind of leisure time is my idol. Teach me, master.
Apparently this is a big no-no, but mama likes. Warmth, Vitamin D, my skin moving from pastey blue to simply pastey, ignoring my 4-year old while she plays dangerously close to the water… these are all good things.
White girl privilege
While this one has its many downsides (like the fact that it is even a social reality), it’s one that I’ve intentionally used multiple times to get what I want. Like when I was 18 and living in a semi-racist town, and my friend Kerry (who is also a white girl) and I crawled into the back of my buddy’s pickup truck to scare him as he started driving away, and then he swerved all the way down my street to get back at us, and then got pulled over by a cop on a motorcycle as he pulled into my dad’s driveway. Kerry and I stopped just shy of taking our shirts off for that guy to keep my friend from getting a ticket, but he was putty in our hands. I’ve always wondered if he realized what a tool he was as he drove away on his little cop motorcycle. Oh well– mission accomplished.
Touching and sniffing soft leather products with no intention of buying them
It’s soft and it smells good, and it’s expensive. You understand…
Flirting with old men or hot guys just to know you’ve still got it
If you have two kids and stretch marks, you understand. A girl just needs to feel desired sometimes. And, old men’s equipment may not work anymore, but their minds are still as dirty as ever. Sometimes they need an extended hug. Be a good neighbor!