when I am on a date and so is dinner and anything else I want to do!!
There was an idiot from the other night who actually waited for me to grab my wallet and pay half the tab.
"Oops my Blonde. I forgot my wallet of plastic. Will you except a check for my half?"
Sorry kid, the Majors decided your not right for the League!
I don't pay!
I don't think I have to pay!
I won't pay!
Seriously,
Who told you a Blonde should pay?
The girls that insist on paying there way?
A word to my not so non-fellow neo-feminazis trying to ruin a good thing...
What do you accomplish by paying your way?
You don't honestly think that if the man pays for dinner you owe him sex do you?
Why do you insist on paying or get insulted if they try to open the door.
What are you?
Why don't you pay for a penis and date girls?
Than you can pay all the time and never have doors opened for you.
AND ANOTHER THING!!
Where in the alien world of dog do you think the chick should pay her way to come see a man?
Dude dig in that bendable leather bank inside your back butt pocket and log online to Delta Blu and either book your flight to me or book my flight to you.
Otherwise stay local with your dating d'jour.
or get the girl with the penis...they love to pay for their share!
Blondes make the men pay!!
8.05.2008
8.04.2008
Match.com is not a legitimate...
health expense?
Really?
The insurance company is questioning the use of my HSA fund in regards to Match.com.
On the line of which I am to provide my illness:
I wrote
love sick
Am I supposed to have a broken heart before they will pay out?!
Blondes like a preventive approach!
Really?
The insurance company is questioning the use of my HSA fund in regards to Match.com.
On the line of which I am to provide my illness:
I wrote
love sick
Am I supposed to have a broken heart before they will pay out?!
Blondes like a preventive approach!
Alright, so I am not a tree
I am more the variety of social butterfly that after a months worth of flying from dinner to dinner with gents is in serious need of a little R&R and definitely ready for just one man. I really am beginning to miss sex and without a steady, I am SOL.
and I hate being S.O.L.
and last nights battery shortage did not help!!
Its a mission that I hope to wrap up fairly quickly because now I am just a bit tired of being charming and romantic and witty and having perfect hair for every man that sits across my table.
And than it hit me like a bug to my windshield!
I am charming
and witty
and incredibly engaging
and I have perfect hair (I have great just rolled out of bed hair too!!).
I should get more than a dinner and a drink from all this work!
I am going to be a trade show model!
How hard can it be hosting a big bash of men all day, and yes I know, some of the ladies too. Although I am not a fan of women in general, I do well with them on a public, stay an arms distance away, kind of level.
Why not work the trade shows as a model? At least until my manuscripts are complete. This job would open up a lot more free time, I would be mobile, it pays ridiculously well for the work, and I have accumulated enough experience just by being who I have always been.
If you think about it, dating is nothing more than selling yourself. For the most part we are the product: our character, our personality,our intellect our looks. You are basically pitching yourself every time you go out with someone new.
Now, I assume there will be some element of reputation control at these events, after all, it is a modeling job--your already considered stupid before you hit the catwalk. I am one step below the chick who turns the big plastic letters on TV. But I assure you, my reputation has never wavered. Even in college, my panties never found there way to the walls of shame at certain fraternities down the block. And even if I get slack for being a brainless model, whatever!
Its not like any guy who goes to these events will impress me anyway!!
Most of these men, which I have had the misfortune of running into at Eddie V's during certain conventions here in Austin ( its so typical they would choose the expensive steak house on their boss' dime) act like debaucherous fools without proper etiquette. There like school boys who have seen there first breast, pointing and making comment to friends about girls that just walk by the table in a short dress. Its the equivalent of walking by construction workers in New York City and getting whistled at only worse because they are in MY 4 star gig with their 2 star manners.
What the hell? I will troll Myspace for a budding photographer to keep the cost of head shots down and put together a resume of work from private parties and corporate charity events I hosted on a regular basis with a few of my Ex's and I am good to go.
Blondes like skipping on stepping stones!!
and I hate being S.O.L.
and last nights battery shortage did not help!!
Its a mission that I hope to wrap up fairly quickly because now I am just a bit tired of being charming and romantic and witty and having perfect hair for every man that sits across my table.
And than it hit me like a bug to my windshield!
I am charming
and witty
and incredibly engaging
and I have perfect hair (I have great just rolled out of bed hair too!!).
I should get more than a dinner and a drink from all this work!
I am going to be a trade show model!
How hard can it be hosting a big bash of men all day, and yes I know, some of the ladies too. Although I am not a fan of women in general, I do well with them on a public, stay an arms distance away, kind of level.
Why not work the trade shows as a model? At least until my manuscripts are complete. This job would open up a lot more free time, I would be mobile, it pays ridiculously well for the work, and I have accumulated enough experience just by being who I have always been.
If you think about it, dating is nothing more than selling yourself. For the most part we are the product: our character, our personality,our intellect our looks. You are basically pitching yourself every time you go out with someone new.
Now, I assume there will be some element of reputation control at these events, after all, it is a modeling job--your already considered stupid before you hit the catwalk. I am one step below the chick who turns the big plastic letters on TV. But I assure you, my reputation has never wavered. Even in college, my panties never found there way to the walls of shame at certain fraternities down the block. And even if I get slack for being a brainless model, whatever!
Its not like any guy who goes to these events will impress me anyway!!
Most of these men, which I have had the misfortune of running into at Eddie V's during certain conventions here in Austin ( its so typical they would choose the expensive steak house on their boss' dime) act like debaucherous fools without proper etiquette. There like school boys who have seen there first breast, pointing and making comment to friends about girls that just walk by the table in a short dress. Its the equivalent of walking by construction workers in New York City and getting whistled at only worse because they are in MY 4 star gig with their 2 star manners.
What the hell? I will troll Myspace for a budding photographer to keep the cost of head shots down and put together a resume of work from private parties and corporate charity events I hosted on a regular basis with a few of my Ex's and I am good to go.
Blondes like skipping on stepping stones!!
8.01.2008
Blonde Godess
Apollo and Daphne begins with the God of love Eros (Cupid).
My thoughts of being Blonde at the moment:
Daphne wanted nothing to do with men, male Gods, or sexual desire, or marriage. Apollo used all his arts to woo her but she ran away whenever she saw him.
He pretended to be a mortal man but than revealed himself as a God. Nothing he said made a difference.
During the chase, Daphne ran down hill toward the river Peneus.
She stopped and knelled at the river and begged...
"Help me father! If you have any powers as a river god, use them now to save me for ever!"
At that moment, her feet welded to the soil, her body became thinner, her skin grew a layer of bark, her arms became branches, her fingers became leaves, and she became the laurel tree.
And trees don't answer the phone!!
The Blonde is being still this weekend!
My thoughts of being Blonde at the moment:
Daphne wanted nothing to do with men, male Gods, or sexual desire, or marriage. Apollo used all his arts to woo her but she ran away whenever she saw him.
He pretended to be a mortal man but than revealed himself as a God. Nothing he said made a difference.
During the chase, Daphne ran down hill toward the river Peneus.
She stopped and knelled at the river and begged...
"Help me father! If you have any powers as a river god, use them now to save me for ever!"
At that moment, her feet welded to the soil, her body became thinner, her skin grew a layer of bark, her arms became branches, her fingers became leaves, and she became the laurel tree.
And trees don't answer the phone!!
The Blonde is being still this weekend!
Existentially Speaking
What does it say about me that Jesus dropped to the floor right behind me.
I was at the mean-Eyed Cat, minding my own business, listening to Johnny Cash singing, 'I will wait for you' on the jukebox. I was singing along to him in my head with not a thought on my mind when suddenly something right behind my head came crashing to the floor.
The other patrons and I all looked at the glass piece on the floor. I got up from my rickety old stool and picked up the pane. I turned it over and glanced at it.
Jesus!!
Everyone looked.
"Its a picture of Jesus that fell to the floor and its cracked!", I exclaimed.
The gentleman to my left said," If that isn't a sign to stay away from you, I don't know what is."
Haha
I said, "Imagine!! you get 7 years for a broken mirror. How many years will I receive for breaking Jesus?"
I handed over the glass to the bartender and went back to listening to the juke which was now playing a Willy Nelson song.
I sat and wondered for a moment thinking about the 'sign'and then all of the sudden... a pair of panties stapled on the wall above the juke caught my attention, "Eat the Kitty" the panties had stamped on them.
I laughed.
I took a photo of the underwear and inquired about a pair but they were all out of small. Only large was left. Should they even make a pair in large?
The thought of the fallen Jesus quickly diminished.
Still, now I can't help but wonder?
Maybe Johnny and Jesus were speaking to me at that moment. I wish I knew what was on their mind. Probably the same thing as mine. I just was too deep in thought to think about it!!
Blondes like signs that say something!!
I was at the mean-Eyed Cat, minding my own business, listening to Johnny Cash singing, 'I will wait for you' on the jukebox. I was singing along to him in my head with not a thought on my mind when suddenly something right behind my head came crashing to the floor.
The other patrons and I all looked at the glass piece on the floor. I got up from my rickety old stool and picked up the pane. I turned it over and glanced at it.
Jesus!!
Everyone looked.
"Its a picture of Jesus that fell to the floor and its cracked!", I exclaimed.
The gentleman to my left said," If that isn't a sign to stay away from you, I don't know what is."
Haha
I said, "Imagine!! you get 7 years for a broken mirror. How many years will I receive for breaking Jesus?"
I handed over the glass to the bartender and went back to listening to the juke which was now playing a Willy Nelson song.
I sat and wondered for a moment thinking about the 'sign'and then all of the sudden... a pair of panties stapled on the wall above the juke caught my attention, "Eat the Kitty" the panties had stamped on them.
I laughed.
I took a photo of the underwear and inquired about a pair but they were all out of small. Only large was left. Should they even make a pair in large?
The thought of the fallen Jesus quickly diminished.
Still, now I can't help but wonder?
Maybe Johnny and Jesus were speaking to me at that moment. I wish I knew what was on their mind. Probably the same thing as mine. I just was too deep in thought to think about it!!
Blondes like signs that say something!!
7.31.2008
Delineation of the Truth
A dude in a mock turtle neck and mustache with classic GQ hair.
Definitely vintage: early 90's I would say.
Its a good thing I am the Sultan of mischievous Google searches. I surfed for info on this gent before diving head first with my cellular integer. I only need a few clues to get my private dick web dog on the scent.
He sends a photo with headline 'Dreamy Photo'.
Who does that?!
Superciliousness with extra cheese on top!!
Geek!!
Here is the exert from the email(photo not included to protect the foolish, for they know not what they are):
Dreamy Photo
IMAGINE PHOTO HERE ( picture Magnum PI without the curl)
Here is the pic. I hope you have just the right spot for it on your refrigerator. Let me know what you think and we can go from there.
'Magnum' portrays himself as refined man who likes Baccarat...I am not a fan but whatever. He also portrays himself 20 years younger based on his vintage photag. I found his real photo on the corporate website. The mustache has since been long gone, by the looks of it.
He is looking for the woman to impress his friends, not really for himself. He happens to be an 'Entrepreneur of the Year' and moving up in the ranks. I commend him for this aspect, only. He wants a 'classy' girl that can host parties and make people comfortable and doesn't mind the attention she receives. Because she is so beautiful she commands that much attention.
Playmate Catering Service at your disposal?!
Any...hoo!!
I am not a big fan of hosting political or corporate affairs. I did it. You have to be charming and witty to a million dull people for a zillion hours and than your so tired by the time you get home, you fall asleep in your gown.
Ughgh...
I will do it only for charity these days. At least some good will come from all the nonsense.
Any...hoo!! Sorry a bit ADD today..
Any time I hear the word classy or see a long list of wants that pertain to how other people will perceive the woman, I can tell the sir is not from the upper crust nor has he eloquently evolved into his position in life as a wealthy man who supposedly agrees with the finer things in life and can respect a woman on a deeper level of commitment than to be the trophy to impress all.
Sophisticated, refined, cultured, well bred, modest means but well-liked..these are the words that are whispered among each other in the haute monde.
Not, Classy!!
Classy is a blue collar who wants the hostess not the waitress.
Blondes got your number way before dialing it!!
Definitely vintage: early 90's I would say.
Its a good thing I am the Sultan of mischievous Google searches. I surfed for info on this gent before diving head first with my cellular integer. I only need a few clues to get my private dick web dog on the scent.
He sends a photo with headline 'Dreamy Photo'.
Who does that?!
Superciliousness with extra cheese on top!!
Geek!!
Here is the exert from the email(photo not included to protect the foolish, for they know not what they are):
Dreamy Photo
IMAGINE PHOTO HERE ( picture Magnum PI without the curl)
Here is the pic. I hope you have just the right spot for it on your refrigerator. Let me know what you think and we can go from there.
'Magnum' portrays himself as refined man who likes Baccarat...I am not a fan but whatever. He also portrays himself 20 years younger based on his vintage photag. I found his real photo on the corporate website. The mustache has since been long gone, by the looks of it.
He is looking for the woman to impress his friends, not really for himself. He happens to be an 'Entrepreneur of the Year' and moving up in the ranks. I commend him for this aspect, only. He wants a 'classy' girl that can host parties and make people comfortable and doesn't mind the attention she receives. Because she is so beautiful she commands that much attention.
Playmate Catering Service at your disposal?!
Any...hoo!!
I am not a big fan of hosting political or corporate affairs. I did it. You have to be charming and witty to a million dull people for a zillion hours and than your so tired by the time you get home, you fall asleep in your gown.
Ughgh...
I will do it only for charity these days. At least some good will come from all the nonsense.
Any...hoo!! Sorry a bit ADD today..
Any time I hear the word classy or see a long list of wants that pertain to how other people will perceive the woman, I can tell the sir is not from the upper crust nor has he eloquently evolved into his position in life as a wealthy man who supposedly agrees with the finer things in life and can respect a woman on a deeper level of commitment than to be the trophy to impress all.
Sophisticated, refined, cultured, well bred, modest means but well-liked..these are the words that are whispered among each other in the haute monde.
Not, Classy!!
Classy is a blue collar who wants the hostess not the waitress.
Blondes got your number way before dialing it!!
Is it sexual harassment?
Is it considered a professional rule break when someone slides their finger over the top of your hand expecting you to write your phone number down on a post-it note.
I have to give him credit, he was very suave and confident about getting his cryptic message across to me. He did it right in front of the other board members.
Made me think this was not his first rodeo ride on a bull named 'Affair'.
How this all came about:
The other week I was shown a photo of the villa the Married, and his wife, occupied over the summer holiday.
As I view the photo I simply say,"Damn, I am marrying for money!!"
We laughed!!
Joke over, right?!
Wrong!
Apparently from that little comment came a slew of stares and tight passes through the hall, eventually graduating to the finger slide atop my hand. He is the Big Guy and owns half the deals on the table. I guess he felt he had the right to poach.
I really must be careful what I say to dudes that probably do not get their fair share of 'spoons and dips' in the bedroom by the significant other.
Here is the crazy thing. Because I did not return the favor with a penned digits on the post it. He failed to join the meeting yesterday. You don't think he is embarassed, do you?
Nahj, maybe I am just being arrogant to think my rejection kept him away this time!
Hhmmm.....
5 days
6 hours
31 minutes until gone!!
Blondes don't like messy business deals!
I have to give him credit, he was very suave and confident about getting his cryptic message across to me. He did it right in front of the other board members.
Made me think this was not his first rodeo ride on a bull named 'Affair'.
How this all came about:
The other week I was shown a photo of the villa the Married, and his wife, occupied over the summer holiday.
As I view the photo I simply say,"Damn, I am marrying for money!!"
We laughed!!
Joke over, right?!
Wrong!
Apparently from that little comment came a slew of stares and tight passes through the hall, eventually graduating to the finger slide atop my hand. He is the Big Guy and owns half the deals on the table. I guess he felt he had the right to poach.
I really must be careful what I say to dudes that probably do not get their fair share of 'spoons and dips' in the bedroom by the significant other.
Here is the crazy thing. Because I did not return the favor with a penned digits on the post it. He failed to join the meeting yesterday. You don't think he is embarassed, do you?
Nahj, maybe I am just being arrogant to think my rejection kept him away this time!
Hhmmm.....
5 days
6 hours
31 minutes until gone!!
Blondes don't like messy business deals!
Road Kill
The probelmo with Westlake is the amount of road kill I see. I am so sick of seeing a mooshed animal on the road.
Yesterday a fox
Today an armadillo
The other day a bambi
over
and over, again!!
I especially hate it when I see it on the back roads up to my house where your supposed to drive 30 mpg's. Unless the animal is a suicide, I think drivers can take a little more time paying attention to their surroundings.
I notice the bigger the SUV or truck, the more disconnected the driver is to the universe around them. I see the drivers on the phone not paying attention. I remember, one time, a total biatch ran right over a squirrel in front of me. She didn't bat an eye or even tap her breaks. Just ran over the damn things like it was dirt.
I really wanted to pummel the el coonte'!!
Maybe its a Texas thing. Or maybe its a United States thang. Riding inside our country wide SUVs disconnected from the universe around us. How far have we fallen down the political totem pole that other countries are looking to China for help?
I wish I could just one day not see road kill or hear about another one of our soldiers dying!!
Blondes drive with the top down!!
Yesterday a fox
Today an armadillo
The other day a bambi
over
and over, again!!
I especially hate it when I see it on the back roads up to my house where your supposed to drive 30 mpg's. Unless the animal is a suicide, I think drivers can take a little more time paying attention to their surroundings.
I notice the bigger the SUV or truck, the more disconnected the driver is to the universe around them. I see the drivers on the phone not paying attention. I remember, one time, a total biatch ran right over a squirrel in front of me. She didn't bat an eye or even tap her breaks. Just ran over the damn things like it was dirt.
I really wanted to pummel the el coonte'!!
Maybe its a Texas thing. Or maybe its a United States thang. Riding inside our country wide SUVs disconnected from the universe around us. How far have we fallen down the political totem pole that other countries are looking to China for help?
I wish I could just one day not see road kill or hear about another one of our soldiers dying!!
Blondes drive with the top down!!
7.30.2008
Countdown!!
6 Days
4 hours
52 minutes
until the end of employment
Oops!!
Now 51 minutes...
Blondes don't always have a back up plan!!
4 hours
52 minutes
until the end of employment
Oops!!
Now 51 minutes...
Blondes don't always have a back up plan!!
7.29.2008
Boredom to Stardom
I believe if my blog won't make me famous maybe my new emicons will!!
:-)=
buck teeth
:): >----
Happy naked lady
:)8 >----
Enhanced happy naked lady
:0 : >---
happy ending naked lady
: 0 8 >------
happy ending enhanced naked lady
: ( 3----
sad naked boy with pencil peepee
The Blonde needs to find better use of her time!!!
:-)=
buck teeth
:): >----
Happy naked lady
:)8 >----
Enhanced happy naked lady
:0 : >---
happy ending naked lady
: 0 8 >------
happy ending enhanced naked lady
: ( 3----
sad naked boy with pencil peepee
The Blonde needs to find better use of her time!!!
7.28.2008
No Camera Man
The problemo with going on holiday alone is no camera man. I didn't have anyone to take pictures of me surfing the big blue.
I opted for the cheesy photo next to my board but since I forgot Boo and Jesus borrowed my camera for their excursion to the Wisconsin Air Show, I was left with my pathetic phone camera and I left my goods in the locker when I went surfing and I was too lazy to go get it just for a good photo op. So I yanked an older op from my pics.
Anyhoo,
I rented a scooter to get around and so once the driver dropped me at the Ayres Hotel, I didn't go very far. I spent most my days surfing and walking the beach
alone and content.
I mingled with the local flavors that were cute but not my sort of dish. I spent time in the java huts and eating raw vegetarian.
I wanted to blend.
I had a lot of guys talking to me, not thrilled with all the homeless and hopeless incurable surfer dudes without a day job rushing me all at once.
But the Daddy-Os were cool!
I had too many fruit smoothies because I wasn't into dining alone..actually that was my big meal of the day when I would have them blend up a seaweed extraction thingy majingy right before hitting the waves.
Mmm
Mmm
Mmmm
I didn't get much of a tan because I had a full suit on and I made sure not to get a farmers tan just on my face so sun protection became the theme of the day. Constantly missing waves to re-apply. The good waves were either way early morn or late afternoon and I spent the sunny time eating and typing away on my script at the juice hut.
I had to cut the trip short do to the now early departure of my position at work .
All in all, a fab time albeit the towel next to me was un occupado. I really needed a suntan lotion dude for all my general needs on the turf.
Dinner
Lunch
laughing at my arse every time I took a major spill.
Getting others to stop laughing after I had a major spill
etc...
etc....
Blonde Bettys need a little love and protection!!
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