How can I get my filthy hands on a dwarf?

I’m with my in-laws and I’m horny.

Back up.

It was Christmas day and I’m watching a movie with my in-laws.  “The Station Agent”.  With Peter Dinklage. You might know him as Tyrion Lannister from the Game of Thrones series on HBO.  He plays the dwarf. (Because he is a dwarf).

The dwarf makes me hot.  I would let Peter put his Dinklage in my pachinko.

peter dinklage2Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t have anything against dwarves. I’ve just never had the opportunity to feel compelled.  Do we as a society hide them? It can’t possibly be that I’m not seeing them because they’re small. I notice children, for instance, all the time. Maybe it’s because the children are loud…  Maybe someone can help me further understand any societal discrimination as it relates to dwarves. It’s a topic I’m unfamiliar with.

But what I do know is that, when it comes to swagger, Peter erases any doubt in my mind that we would have nothing short of a fucking FABULOUS time together. He even has a nice voice, which makes my panties drop.  I mean, just look at those sexy forearms.

I think it helped that I am familiar with him as the badass, super-strategic Tyrion Lannister because, in “The Station Agent”, he plays this lonely emo character. And ya’ll know how much of a turnoff that emo shit is to this bitch. I usually just want to tell people to put on their big girl panties and take life by the balls. If you gotta lick those balls every once in a while to get what you want, then goddamnit lick the balls.  Ain’t no other way to live.  But he has his reasons, and he also grows and develops as a character, so it didn’t detract from his sexy dwarf hotness.  And it was a great movie.

The only thing I regret about the experience was finding myself on the floor, playing with the toddler, in-laws to my left and my right, knowing there was absolutely no relief in sight for my poor vagina.

It starts with writing my name in the snow with pee, and ends with Penelope Cruz.

The question of the hour is: What is on your list of “Things you would do if you had a dick”? (a/k/a “penis”)

Special contributor to today’s daily honey is none other than my harbor ho, K-Money, the mother of my highschool kissing disease. Thank you for joining us today, K-Money. Here is what she has to say about what kind of magic would happen if she had a penis. Shhhhh listen closely, children.

1)  I would never call it “wiener”.  NEVER.  Wiener is often used to describe dogs, sausages, and even looks like a lot of last names.  My penis is special.  It doesn’t share names with pets.

2) I would give my penis a very special moniker though.  It would have to be a name that I know is incredibly unique, and possibly descriptive.  I am thinking Francis Sparkle Julius III. Or Pink Pickle for short.

3) I would use my very special penis to write things in the snow.  In my learning years, I will write easy things like my name.  If I have a lot to drink, maybe the greek alphabet across my neighbor’s lawn.  When I get to the advanced stage, I will write urine-write “Please don’t let your dog crap on my lawn!”  I am sure the whole neighborhood will be impressed.

4) I would bump into people with it on the subway.  I am pretty sure God did not give me man parts because I would be in jail by now.

5) I would read it stories at night and insert the word “penis”  into all the right places.  “Goodnight, Penis”  and “The Very Hungry Penis” are Pink Pickle’s bedtime favorites.

6) I would pee on things that made me mad.  One time a horse tried to bite me while I was painting a fence.  That nasty horse is really lucky that I did not have the appropriate equipment to relieve myself all over him.  (Side note: I told this to the guy I was dating and he was not impressed.)

7) Penelope Cruz.

Thank you, K-Money, for that enlightening, inspiring even, list of activities that would happen if you sported a trousersnake.

I definitely concur that peeing on things that make me mad would be on the list. Although I must admit that I’d call it a wiener. In fact, I might just talk about my wiener ALL THE TIME. Because people with wieners seem to do that…

I would slap people in the face with it. Really just a little tappy tap to get my point across. People I would slap on the face with my penis include any and all popular political radio talk show hosts, from Sean Hannity, all the way over to the other end of the political spectrum. And probably every member of Congress, now that I think of it. It’s not that they’re doing anything wrong, per se, it’s just that I think they would benefit from my dick tapping their face. Like a gentle reminder that I’m there, and that there might just be some things that are more important than whatever garbage is spilling out of their mouths. Like my penis, for instance.

I would use it to kill a kitten every time I have the misfortune of seeing Lindsay Lohan, be it in a movie or a news item. She doesn’t make any damn sense to me.

I would give birth to a baby with it, and then insist that all the powerful men around me do the same thing, and then inform them that their “paternity” leave consists of no more than 10 weeks of unpaid leave from work. No paid leave, no fruit basket, just a happy little “fuck you” after they do the good work of populating our earth with little people via an unnaturally small hole for a baby to fit through. And I’d make them do it with no meds. Just to get the point across.

I would make Justin Bieber take a picture of his dick next to my dick. Whether it proves that mine is bigger, or further exacerbates his gayness, I don’t give a fuck. That’s just what’s gonna happen.

I would seduce and then pleasure Monica Bellucci, record it, and distribute the recording to every man on earth, to show how a woman needs to be treated. Bonus for me would be getting to be with Monica Bellucci, the hottest woman on earth. But seriously, you wieners need to be shown what a woman wants because you’re collectively disappointing the masses. I know so many good men, who at the same time seem so clueless about some very key points with women.

I would definitely wear a speedo. Like, a shimmery gold one with little gemstones all over the front that would gleam in the sun, blinding old ladies as they walk by and stare, mesmerized by my wiener. I mean, I’d go jogging in that speedo, grocery shopping, tai chi in the park, you name it. I’ll be sporting the speedo.

Guilty pleasures. Or, reasons I’ll likely burn in hell.

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.

Fashion Magazines

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…

Britney Spears

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.

Fist fights

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 ( 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.

Smoking cigars

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!

Sexy film for my crackas.

New sexy film post over at Big Touch, bitches!! CLICK HERE to see that sexy business.

“Black men tell me my penis is huge”, and other half-truths.

As if I haven’t already publicly humiliated myself 100 times over with this stupid blog, I’ve decided to start a sex page called Big Touch. You can get to it through the top menu, too.

Maybe it is birthed out of a time a few weeks ago when I was eating juicy lucies at Matt’s Bar where my girlfriend was telling me she’s had jaw issues ever since she had braces as a kid, and then I told her that must be rough since I’m sure her husband has a really huge dick, and I’m sure she gives him head like ALL the time.  Or maybe it originates with my friend asking me why drinking a lot of wine makes it hard for her to cum during sex with her husband who has a penis that is on the shorter side, but of great girth (baby ain’t nothin’ wrong with that).  Or maybe it is because that vibrator I bought 2 months ago is actually for men, but I didn’t know because it didn’t say that on the package, and the very helpful ladies at Smitten Kitten must not realize that my husband doesn’t want me sticking vibrating shit in his ass. Nor do I want to stick shit (vibrating or no) in my husband’s ass.

I will say this… I am really fucking clueless. Not about how to have sex, but about sex culture. I was reading a column at Sexis the other day, where The Bloggess writes things that make my brain explode, and one of the other columnists, The Devil’s Advocate, was writing about the overuse of the word “misogyny” within the sex positive culture, and it occurred to me that I don’t even know what that shit is. I had to google “sex positive.” Oh, so it’s a whole movement– got it.  I’ve been a self-described feminist (and a self-appointed Ruler over Everything) for years, but I really gotta get with the program.  This is what happens when you study socio-economics and global urban poverty for ten years– you ignore the important things in life. Like my vagina.  And how can I effectively rule over everyone’s life when I don’t even know what the fuck is going on?

Swag-ger (noun). /’swag-er/

That crazy Sri Lankan, M. I. A., got me thinking, fantasizing… wishing I could dress up in a cheerleader uniform and dance next to Madonna… One of my favorite songs with her is “Swagga like us”.  It’s about how no one on the corner has swagger like her and her friends.

M. I. A. I. Believe. You.

And when she tells me about this, about her swagger being better than mine, I believe every word.  And I think that just proves her point.  When you believe you’re amazing, and then you have the skills to convince everyone else that it’s true— that’s swagger.

I have a feeling people think about this more than we realize. Maybe they don’t think about it in the exact term “swagger”, but the idea is there. It’s an element of seduction, I think.

I asked my associate, Thug Life, what he had to say about swagger. “G’s up, hoes down” was his response. And then he said,

“Swagger is a little new school for an old gangster like me baby.”

Merriam Webster says: (I thought this lacked the positive connotation I associate with swagger, but whatev)

a) arrogant or conceitedly self-assured behavior

b) a self-confident outlook: cockiness

The Urban Dictionary says: (This was my favorite)

Swagger is the confidence exuded as a reflection of one’s dress, shoe game [so true!!!], attitude, and how one handles a situation [RIGHT??!!!].

You can learn how to dress just by jocking my fresh
Jocking jocking my fresh
Jocking jocking my fresh
Follow my steps, it’s the road to success
Where the niggas know you thorough
And the girls say yes
But I can’t teach you my swag
You can pay for school but you can’t buy class
School of hard knocks I’m a grad
And that all-blue Yankee is my graduation cap
–Jay Z////Swagger Like Us

Of all the things I love about that song, I think I like Jay Z singing ” jocking jocking my fresh, jocking jocking my fresh” the best. When they performed it at the 2009 Grammys, M. I. A. was literally about to pop a baby out of her vaj. It was a magical performance. Where was I.  Oh yeah, the song is about how no one has swagger like them. And you know what? I believe them.

Recent swagger moment: John Legend singing about how tonight he’s going to give you the best lovin’ you’ve ever had. And  you know what folks? I believe him, too. Shhhhh gather round, listen.

Striking and unexpected swagger moment: A couple of years ago I was reading Esquire magazine, and I laid eyes on who I believe to be one of the ugliest people on the planet– Arnold Schwarzenegger. I’m sorry, but dude is ugly. But these pictures… really showed the swagger that man has. Because when I saw them, the exact thought that came into my mind was, “Wow, I bet he really knows how to fuck.”

Goal for 2012: Make dragon babies with a TV set.

Last night me and Sugardaddy were doing a preliminary review of which luxury expenses we should cut out now that I’m not a high-rolling baller.

Sugardaddy: “We need to keep HBO. I’m hooked.”

Me: “I know. I still need to make dragon babies with Daenerys Targaryen from Game of Thrones.”

But as I thought through that goal, I realized there are so MANY babies I need to make with my TV set this year. Maybe I should make this a 5-year plan, so as not to overwhelm “the loins”.

Dragon. Babies.

I’ll need to make babies with Daenerys first because I don’t feel like she deserves sloppy seconds. She’s too perfect and weirdly blonde. And she has dragon babies. Did I mention she has dragon babies? Does the fact that I’m mesmerized by that make me a nerd? Okay moving on…

Have you met Chalky White from Boardwalk Empire? Well you need to. There’s really no other way to meet Chalky, than like this (I recommend watching the full 8 minutes):

That’s some of the hottest shit I’ve ever seen.  I like the idea of BEING a mob boss, but this just makes me want to BELONG to a mob boss… named Chalky White.

Then, let’s be honest– I’m gonna have a whole GANG of babies with the cast of True Blood. Well… 3 of ’em at least. A lil’ baby shape-shifter, a lil’ baby vampire, and a lil’ baby… I dunno, I dunno what Lafayette is.

Ladies first of course. Janina, I’ll take good care of you. I’ll protect you from your greasy ugly redneck werewolf boyfriend who could never possibly attain you in real life but somehow the writers of the show felt was a realistic option. I’d believe vampires were real before I’d believe you’d ever date that guy.  Especially after playing Papi in L Word, where you were pleasing the ladies at a rate that not even Shane her lady-whore self could keep up with. Let’s just say you can shape-shift into anything you want, and I’d still pay to play.

Janina Gavankar. I don't remember her name in True Blood, and I don't care.

"Hooker, please."

Then I’ll need pay a visit to Lafayette, whose sex appeal (for me, at least) lies solely in his strong and healthy personal boundaries. What is it about a person’s willingness to tell others (including your own family members) to fuck off that is just so damn sexy? So what if he’s gay, and his boyfriend is an over-sensitive dude named Jesus (hay-zoos). It doesn’t take away… I’m so drawn to this guy.  If he doesn’t want to make gay bi-racial babies with me, I’d at least like him to call me on the phone and say “Hooker, where you at?”

Eric is contemplating what he wants to do to me tonight.

And… then I’ll need to get freaky with Eric Northman. Go figure– I’m typically not into blondes. I don’t even like vampires. But I like bad boys, and he’s got that shit down. I don’t know if every girl has a weakness for bad boys, but it’s probably my biggest weakness. As long as deep down he’s got some kinda soft squishy center of love in him (which he does).  You can get an ounce of Eric here (I apologize for Sookie’s lame ass), or you can watch him charm fundamentalist religious-types here. Or you can look at his booty-cheeks here.

What you WON’T see me doing is making shit like this.  Or doing shit like this.

This is some shit.

Unless you hate sex and violence (wtf???), you’ll want to see this.

If you fall into one or more of these categories:

  • You want to see white men as slaves
  • You’re straight but wondering if you’re bisexual or gay
  • You enjoy watching gladiators spar for their lives
  • You’re prudish enough to not like straight-up porn, but you really like watching other people have sex
  • You are a gay man that longs for a day when man-love is simply an accepted part of society. Oh wait that’s Greece… well Rome is close enough.
  • You appreciate class rebellion
  • You like girl-on-girl action
  • You occasionally get the urge to see intestines fall out of people’s bodies
  • You like guy-on-guy action
  • You don’t like guy on guy action, so you need it in quantities reasonable enough to fast-forward through
  • You just can’t get enough of that gladiator shoe trend
  • You need something to help you appreciate a free and democratic society, even if you ARE unemployed
  • Chicks in masks clawing and killing each other seems to be a missing element in your life

then you will definitely want to watch this show.

and then you’ll want to watch THIS show, so we can chat about it afterward ohmigod!!!!

Andy Whitfield, R.I.P.

I’ll miss you.

Fast-forward seven days….

Here’s Season 2: Episode 1.  I’m not a huge fan of new guy, but Crixus is still in it to win it, and I’m a loyal gal. I’ll never leave him.

Lil’ warning– this is some graphic stuff.  I think I had forgotten just how graphic… Enjoy!

This made me pee-pee a little.

Thanks to my home-girl and fellow mom-boss, Holly, I just soiled my mommy sweatpants.

You need to look at this blog. I’m currently making love to it, so you get sloppy seconds.


Kelle Dame Interiors. This bitch be crazy.

My friend, fake sister (i.e. “fister”), and dancing associate Kelle has a blog and website, and she’s awesome. So I share it here with you now with joy swelling in my bosom. Perhaps she will pay me an advertising fee if I passive aggressively mention it in this post.

Oh wait, she agreed to make me wine slushies and grind on me. A fine trade.