Impossibly Possum

My pets have a pet.

Those freak felines brought a possum home and have been hiding it in the garage.

They have been feeding it leftovers.

On one hand I applaud their humanity, on the other hand, it is not at all pleasant a notion to find a rabid beast lurking near the food bowl.

I don't care how cute it is!!

Looking at me with those beady eyes!

Cats are not supposed to have pets!

I don't care what you do with him but he cannot stay here.

You can't have a pet!


Tell it to stop looking at me like that!

Stop it!!



Blondes are not animal control!!!

Lactose Intolerant Darling...

I don't do 'cheesy hotels'!!


May I ask what would compel an older, not so fabulous looking to ask me to pay half my way?

Are you kidding?

I am an old fashion kinda girl and I believe the man should pay, especially when they are almost twice my age!!

I don't mind paying half my way to neutral ground. You bring your surf board and I will bring mine. But do not expect me to pay to come to your suburbia in the middle of nowhere and put me up in a Holiday Inn. Just because you present yourself as a sugar daddy and find women that try to take advantage of you doesn't mean you can take it out on me. I am not interested in your kind of distorted values.

A HOJOS's in suburbia?!!!

and for me to pay half?!

You are seriously loco dude.


But when you brag about spoiling a girl but rather take her shopping than pay for a plane ticket, and all you can talk about is how hot she must be and that double D's would be terrific and how good the sexual connection should be...

Pleeez!!

Oh, she should also be independent because you aren't looking to take care of the trophy.....

Blah, Blah, disgusting blah....



Go back to Sugardaddy.com and stay of my Match!!



Blondes hate cheap bologna!!!!

Will resume blog on Monday

HAPPY B-DAY DEMOCRACY

Bra, braaa, braaahhh

You have no idea how cold it gets in the office until you forget to where a bra to work.

The Blonde is freezing and greeting clients in a whole new way!!!

Carma, Carma, Carma

is a biatch!!!

I have no idea why I deserved to be punished yesterday. I don't believe I have blown off enough men to warrant the amount of karma that came after me in form of epic car problemos.

I went to the Mean-Eyed Cat for a little R&R and to meet up with a handsome new thing.
I parked the car, left the top down, rolled the windows up, and pulled the key out of the ignition.

UH!!

That looks like only half a key!!

Where is the rest of my key?!

Look in my ignition!!

Frack!!

Go back inside, call Boo and Jesus to extract my key and make the world better while I totally ignore the issue and continue with my thing.

Boo and Jesus failed to extract the key and they took off to have Pho on Guadalupe. Being the ever so responsible Blonde that I am, I decided to deal with the car after my date. Why ruin a perfectly good evening on car trouble? Plus my date had a 1969 SS Camaro.

And y'all know how I love machismo in my cars.

Big Engine!!

Roarrrr!!!

MMmmm!!!!

Oh Yea!!!


Uh, Uh...where was I ...OH yes, yes..my car!!

My rag-top now needed a flat bed tow of which had to wait until the AM. I show up in the morning to see construction boot soles all over the back seat of my car. I guess the day labors thought they would get lucky. After all, I did leave half the key in the ignition.

I had the car towed to the house because apparently SAAB is on a national backorder of parts for five weeks and nothing can be done until that time. I did try eight locksmiths who all refuse to work on SAABs because of the microchip key or something.

Anyhoo,

I wash and condition the seats to get the thieving little feet marks off my car seat and I go inside to shower not worrying that the 98 degree heat and sunny disposition of the day could possibly rain.

I take a little nap.

I wake up to rain.

RAIN!!

RAIN!!

RAIN!!

I run outside and I am completely soaked by the time I get to my baby that is completely soaked too.

Frack!!

Frack!!!

Frack!!

I hang a tarp over the car until Boo comes over to manually pull the top up.

Top is up.

Rain stops.

I go pout on the porch not sure whether I want to cry or laugh.

Zanax would be awesome about now.

Pity party over.

Fine, I will drive the jag

Get in the jag

The Jag is dead...need to pop the trunk to recharge!!

Can't pop the trunk.

Dead battery and the valet key wont open it from the outside. Original key is safe and sound in my storage unit. Somewhere in the storage unit.


Frack!!!

Frack!!

Frack!!

Being the responsible thing that I am and its July 4th weekend. I will be purchasing a motorcycle until car problems are mysteriously solved on their own.

Do I want a red or yellow crotch rocket?

Hhmmm?


Blondes aren't the only thing that are high maintenance!!

Boob Watching

My friend and I were eating at a local haunt on Friday and breast commentary broke out after he pointed out the boobs on one of the waitress were too large to be real.

Jesus (my nickname for anyone with long hair and a goatee) said that they looked out of proportion and it is how he determined they were not real. I looked at them and I couldn't tell if they were real or not. I did think they were a bit large but I don't think they looked that bad on her. I personally like the small ones that are shaped like a champagne glass. Jesus liked them a bit bigger.

The search for a set of perfect breasts was on.

I loved the waitress who took over our table once we moved inside the restaurant. Round and perky and just perfect for a guy to cup in his hand and do whatever.

Of course Jesus thought they were too small but he applauded them for being real. Again, size being the only determining factor of authenticity. He decided he like the ones tightly bound in a black knit v-neck halter at the next table.

Now that we both found our perfect set, it was time to move our conversation to the older men sitting at the bar hitting on the pretty young, not so innocent, just buy me a drink, things.


It's interesting to people watch and although I have to pay my own tab when I am with Jesus, he is really fun to hang with because we definitely are like two horribly self-centered pom-pom girls in the high school bathroom spreading the daily gossip about the teacher and the honor student.


Oh my Ga!

I wonder if Jesus is gay?!


Blondes wonder about men that make her pay?!

What was I talking about?

What guy?

The guy who hurt your feelings.

When?

The other night.


Oh...that guy. What was his name?

What was his name?

Hhmmm....


Anyhoo

Did I tell how great sailing was. It was smoking!!

Whoooshhhh....


Screaming through the wind like a banshee on a thoroughbred. The wind was kicking, the stars were shining, the Mavericks were playing....

Mmmm, Mmmm, Mmmm

Didn't get off the lake until midnight.

I love the water more than air. I can't breathe without it. I can't wait until August for my surf trips.


Blondes only need a boat and Burt's Beach Shop!!

I am sailing away...

Finally someone has taken pity on this poor soul and is taking me out on the agua!!

I need this especially after my feelings were hurt in a stupid move on my part and my boat is gone.
Have you ever been out with someone and you just knew something wasn't right but you just kept ignoring it?


I was so careful, especially after New York Luva. I knew Luva was still in love with his ex-wife and he had not moved on. He just wanted a girlfriend he could hide on the side why he remained the doting Father and husband, although he was an Ex.

The moment that sealed the deal for me was when he mentioned she was sporting a new hair doo and all women know what that is in girl body speak:

'Moved On!!'

'Ova You!'


The minute I explained that to him, he was off to Connecticut like a jack rabbit being chased by a coyote. And for ignoring this red flag, I ended up stuck in New York alone and penniless for two whole days.

That trip now has me sporting an Amex and Visa, with a much larger limit, for emergency purposes.

Never leave home without them.

It also left me with some advice. The lawyer, I tooledf around the big Apple with for the day after my untimely departure from Luva's flat, simply said:

If you look for the wrong things, you end up over-looking character flaws.
Strike me with lightening bugs and stick to me like gum to my rubber boot!!


It is now my new mantra on men!

These days I am extra careful to look for what is real, what will stand the test of time, what will make for a great foundation to a future relationship.

But I slipped and stumbled and fell over my mantra, this one time.

I got caught with my love flaps(don't think dirty--geeez)down on one guy because I ignored the super duper red flags of all Big Daddy dating red flags to be waived on a first date.

Talking about an ex who isn't quite out of the picture!!

Toro!!!

Run!!!!

Run, Forest, Run!!

Like a Bull I should have speared that red flag out of his hand with my girlie horns
and hang it on my rear view mirror as a souvenir.

Never to look back.

But Noooo!!

I looked back several times.

I kept seeing a big flashy pretty boat!!


They don't call it Blonde for always being smart!!


Its my fault.

I saw something I wanted.

I was going to have it.

Even if I wasn't what he wanted.


Dumb Blonde!!


It just made me feel bad about myself because I knew!!

I'm not always dumb!!

Its not that I am not pretty, or not smart, or not funny, or not charming, or not sexy. I am just not HER. And when your not her, in the man eyes: You aren't as pretty as HER, or as funny as HER, or as sexy as HER and you never will be.

Things like this can wear on your self-esteem and that is why it is so important to be smart and walk away. Because if you don't, you end up feeling bad about yourself when there isn't any reason to feel bad, especially when their are so many men that will think you are HER!!

So tonight, I am going out sailing with someone who thinks I am the funniest, the prettiest, the cutest damn thing he has ever seen and that makes me feel good about me.

And it makes me feel really great about him.



Being Blonde is Blonde but being blind is dumb!!!

Stop pic-ing me!!

Cowboy is the type of guy that only thinks of Cowboy.

Cowboy looks in the mirror and sees a crown, a castle, and a kingdom.

Its not really, but don't tell him.

and all Cowboy thinks he has to do to be charming is get his very old stretch steed and take you to a very country ball.

One catch...

The steed only leaves from the stable. A Princess would have to drive herself to the castle of the S.O.B. or she would be S.O.L.


More fairyland protocol listed below...

Never bother the King with a lunch date.

Never ask the King to drive

Never ask the King to take you somewhere

Never ask the King the tiniest of request

Anyone who is applying for the position of Princess will have the following quality


Must be able to sit quietly until told to come(no pun intended--he couldn't make a fly come!!)

After the fairy tale ending, please note, you will be expected to clean up after the ego. The King enjoys spamming tons of pics of ladies in waiting. Personally, I would keep waiting, until something better came along, if I were him, but I understand the King is lonely and Skanks come quickly when called.


Now, the King does not like to be ignored so his behavior will escalate to ridiculous disregard for decency and kindness to the point of your silence being broken and you have to ask...


King?

Do you know Loco?



Blondes banished themselves forever!!!

You can't buy the ring!!

...without the matching watch...(a 1/10 bid)

Bad blonde!!

Bad, Bad Blonde!!

Move away slowly from the window!!

OK, OK!! I'm going!!



Blondes hate to behave!!

Window Shopping

Sucks!!

Ok, so when I say things like, I think diamond rings are a waste of money, it totally does not include icy baby blue aquamarines up for grabs on bidz.com!!


Look how sparkly!!

Oooooohhh!!!

Must resist!!

Yes, Master!!!

Precious!!

Precious!!!



Blonde must have ring!!