Trailer For Rent

I said to the man,

“I need to place an ad.

How much will it be for these four lines?”

‘Cause my husband’s pissed me off for the last time

Trailer for rent,

No down payment

Comes with some holes and dents where I got tired of his shit

Call if you’re interested, trailer for rent

– Pistol Annies


I have a vagina.

I throw this out there for a couple of reasons:

  1. It’s a fact of life. You’ve gotta have one or the other, right? I mean, everyone has naughty bits.
  2. Because last week, when I asked my boyfriend of nine years to pick me up a box of tampons at the store… he hollered back, “You must’ve lost your damn mind.”

Have I?

Have I lost my “damn” mind?

Me thinks not.

The next day at work, I vented to our mutual lunch buddies, “That bastard wouldn’t even buy me a box of tampons last night! Can you believe that shit?” Mr. Big looked to the only guy in the car for man support, “Hell, don’t look at me. I had to go get some for my wife two nights ago,” Brian laughed.

Big hung his head in defeat.

Ironically, tampongate made me think about my father.

My father has made many mistakes over the years. Mistakes that I still haven’t been able to forgive him for. However, never once during those summers I spent at his house with my sisters did I ever hear him say, “Sorry girls but daddies don’t touch feminine hygiene products. One of you four will have to run into the Piggly Wiggly and get your own damn economy-sized box of tampons… or just go without.” Not once did he ever look over at us and say, “So, uhh, you ladies back down to 130 pounds yet?” And never did he ever utter, “Bet that little neighbor girl could kick your ass at capture the flag.”

But then again, I guess you treat your woman differently than you do your daughter.

Pisssh, men.

What dickweeds.

He’s 30-years-old, y’all. Thirty. When do they learn? When do they get it through their big thick heads that it’s probably just best to shut it and go along with whatever we say?

Yeah, I said it.

I want you to just nod and agree with everything that comes out of my mouth.

I don’t care if I sound crazy. I don’t care if you think I’ve “lost my damn mind.” It’s been nine years, hell, at this point, I don’t even half care if you like me most days. I just want you to understand me… or at least pretend like you are trying to understand me.

Do you think I want to buy tampons every month? Do you think I want to use tampons every month? What about the fact that my insides are practically falling out of my body for an entire week. Do you think that sounds fun? No. No it’s not f*&king fun. So when I ask you to walk down one extra aisle to get a 18-pack of something other than beer. I expect you to do it. Just like you expect me to listen to your whining when you’ve got a cold, and sit through football season, and bare your children.

Relationships are give and take, buddy…

So hows about givin’ me a break before you have to take my foot up your ass.

And for shit’s sake, stop calling me fat!

In other news…

A couple of new readers advised me they had tried to subscribe to my blog the other day using the form in the “Stay Updated” section of the Homepage and nothing happened. This was news to me. Not the “it’s not working” bit but the I had a subscription feature on my page piece.

Well Ballas, after having a little chit-chat with Wesley (Blog Creator Extraordinaire) and doing a little testing myself, I have two announcements to make:

  1. I do have a subscription feature on my page.
  2. It works now!

The whole thing is actually very easy. All you have to do is find the “Stay Updated” section of the Homepage on your screen, enter your name and email address in the applicable fields, and then click the confirm here link in the subscription confirmation email.

From that moment on you will receive a email notification the moment I click publish on each new entry! No checking my site sporadically, trolling me on Facebook, or even badgering me in person anymore. It’s literally that simple.

Seriously people, Sonny could probably do it…




P.S.: The same lunch buddies from above shared the video below with me today. For the record, if I’m not a dead ringer for a unicorn then I don’t know who is.

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