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What’s Bugging You -She Said Edition-

bethteliho:

What irks you most? Is it other drivers? Or the inhuman volume your husband chews food? Head over to the Sisterwives Speak blog and see what some of your favorite peeps had to say on the subject, and feel free to tell us your pet peeves in comments!

Originally posted on The SisterWives:

Here on The Sisterwives we cover some pretty heavy stuff. We appreciate all of our readers and are so very grateful to the brave and beautiful writers that submit pieces that they pull from the deepest, and sometimes darkest, parts of their souls. We thought that maybe today we would lighten things up a bit with a little help from some friends. 

Don’t we all have something that drives us crazy, people who get under our skin, noises that make our skin crawl, and situations that just make you shake your head and wonder ‘What the fuck?’

Today some very funny people are stepping up and telling us what bugs them.

I should say some very funny women. The fellas are on deck for Thursday! So sit back and have a laugh today. You’ve earned it!

she said

It bothers me that we never have enough money. We live on a shoestring budget…

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Bush Talk With Beth

My face must be wrinkle free, despite forty-three years soaking up sun on this planet. My tits need to be full and perky, even though two children sucked them dry. My ass should be round and tight like a ripe peach regardless of gravity and lack of lunges. My body and face are expected to be hairless and flawless, my toes perfectly polished on the end of callous-free feet. And then I open a magazine and find out I’ve been evidently neglectful of another area: my vaheina.

vahiena

What. The. Fuck.

And here I thought the three R’s were Reduce, Reuse, Recycle.

I get it to some degree. Childbirth can shred your junk, resulting in genuine insecurity and embarrassment. Sure. Get that shit fixed if you feel you need to.

Maybe I’d be more concerned if my hoo-ha was being featured in Lady Gardens magazine. Or if I fear I’ll accidently show it to my chiropractor again. Until then, I’m good.

But hymenoplasty? Who wants their hymen back? Maybe I’m missing something…please explain this to me. If it’s fo real, I’ll put it on my Christmas list.

And G-spot shots? A SHOT. IN MAH VAG.

How could this possibly be worth a needle in my situation? So I looked it up. The shot (hyaluronan, a collagen based filler) claims to make the G-spot area larger for more frequent and intense multiple and/or spontaneous orgasms. I admit, that’s intriguing. Supposedly, it’s a painless procedure (said a man, probably) which can cost up to $1,000 and lasts roughly four months. Women are doing this in droves.

Ya’ll. There are even G-spot parties. That brings a whole new meaning to, “I’ll bring the spread.”

I can’t even….

….or could I? Is the new “pamper me” splurge a mani/pedi/vagi?

Would you? Could you? Have you? Dying to hear your thoughts on this?

Let’s Spend the Night Together

Here’s how the convo went down between me and the lovely Helena:

Helena: Would you be interested in hosting the end of my six-part love story?

Me: Of course! GIVE ME THE SEX SCENE That will be lovely to have you GIVE ME THE SEX SCENE on my blog. I just caught up on parts 1 – 4 and can’t wait for part 5 GIVE ME THE SEX SCENE.

Helena: Awesome! I feel like your blog would be great for the hot steamy writhing sex finale.

Me: Ooooh, finale. I like that word. It’s sort of like climax. I get to the climax. Yum.

And that’s how Part 6 ended up here. I hope you enjoyed that glimpse of my professionalism. If you haven’t been following the story, please don’t skip the foreplay beginning. This is a luxurious six-course meal, after all. Allow me to wet your appetite:

Appetizer: Lizzi  “Hunting and Gathering in the Modern Age, or, The Quest for Red Grapefruit Juice”
Salad: Gretchen “Bad Behavior”
Meat: Samara   “Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want”
Vegetables: Mandi  “One Night in Bangkok, Or, Quite Possibly My Last First Date”
Cappuccino: Hayley “I Put a Spell on You, or, Quite Possibly the Last First Kiss”
And, finally, your dessert. Enjoy.

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Writerly (girl) Crush

I admit it, I fall hard for witty, smart, talented writers. Add approachable and adorable and, well, my admiration borders on creepy stalker vehement devotion. last year, I crossed paths with one such writer and    I’m    still    reeling. In the same fashion that one brings home a boy/girlfriend to meet their parental units, I bring Katie Cross to Sisterwives Speak to meet you. Prepare yourself for a monstrous crush.

To read Katie’s light, adorable story about how one’s self-image can be totally skewed, hit THIS.

Are you still here? Click the f#cking link already. Geez.

Zombie rot and little victories

For all of the amazing peeps who cheered for me and wished me good luck, THANK YOU. I did actually get my rewrites finished in time for the contest. *throws confetti* Two days prior to the deadline, I read the “submission guidelines” and learned that they wanted a query first.

A Query. Shudder.

As many of you are aware, queries are basically a summary of your entire novel in just a couple hundred words, and are rampant with strict rules and expectations making them horrifying and extremely difficult. For instance, when researching them I read this: “You should spend as much time on your query as you did on your novel. It’s that important.”

WHAT?

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Important Shiz, and I’m waxing gender issues, forgiveness, and friendships

So I bet you thought I was dead, or had been taken by sweaty cowboys for ransom, or maybe ran off with a dirty, tattooed musician….

Nah.

I’m happy, safe, and well. I’m sure you all were just worried sick.

The good news is I’m writing! Or editing. Or both, rather. Working on that novel like a MOFO. I needs to get ‘er done, you know what I’m saying? And now I have to, because I’m trying to enter a YA manuscript contenst by Oct. 1st. *nervous laughter*

I can do this, right??? RIGHT?

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In which I finally announce the winner. #chumslick

I’ve been back from Wyoming for over a week and have yet to write. I guess I needed more of a vacation than I thought. This past ten days I’ve spent a lot of time wading in the pools of other creative venues, like watching shark week painting and reading. But the itch to write……it’s back.

**Shark Week is the only time during the year I get to use the phrase chum slick and it’s relevant. In fact, it’s become the answer to everything, similar to the ole that’s-what-she-said-last-night. I kind of can’t stop.

help me.

CHUM SLICK. (last time)

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