Relationships contain all sorts of bullshit, but the amount depends on what type of relationship you want. I have many friends, and I am privy to hearing about all of their dating chaos and all the wonderful shit that comes with out.
Can someone please explain to me why you stay in a relationship when it doesn't make you happy? You are constantly bickering, there are more bad times than good, and it starts to affect every single aspect of your life i.e., work and friendships.
I can't see it. I refuse too. My parents stayed together for the good of us kids and that backfired in a major way. It's ridiculous, and it's selfish. It benefits NO ONE.
I have a male friend of mine who is dating a complete loser. He has no job, no car, no skills and he is immature to boot. My friend is only 3 years out of high school, but he is mature beyond his years. Yet he dates brain dead morons who inspire me to impale myself versus wanting to have a conversation with them. "I like them.", he says to me. I like trees, but I ain't going out to fuck one.
HELLO? Is anyone out there getting this?!
I have another female friend of mine who recently broke up with her disgusting loser of an ex, but she still spends time with him. "I miss him.", she says to me. I miss being a size 10, but we can't always have what we want. MOVE ON.
You want to know what that all stems from? Self-esteem. If you don't want the best you can get, it's because you don't believe you deserve it. And this chick wants it all. I want someone who has looks, and personality. I won't settle - EVER. And if you settle, get your mind right. Cause low self-esteem doesn't fade away, unlike some things.
It's just as bad as herpes, cause it's always under the surface.
Your queen on the scene,
Ms. Dimes!
Friday, September 26, 2008
Thursday, September 25, 2008
You never really die. You just morph into something else.
I wanted to take a minute to give some love to my godfather Sabian (or Frankie, as we called him). He passed on two weekends ago due to pneumonia. He was always loving and made me feel special when I was a kid. May he rest in peace.
Work has been very unpredictable lately. I think I am coming to the end of my tenure here, and if that's the case.....FUCK IT. They have all of these outrageous expectations, and I think it's ridiculous. I have to leave work every day to go home and pay respects with some praying in the family. In their eyes I may as well have taken a shit at their desks while they were sitting at them.
Every job as expectations, and I am damn good at what I do and how I can adapt to things. The expectations they have are kind of out there though. I work for a beverage distribution company, and they want us to sell drinks most people in South Florida have never heard of or seen OVER THE PHONE. World, meet the dumb asses I work with. Dumb asses, meet the world.
I am working on a new blog about relationships and why people stay in them despite how toxic they are for themselves and all of their relationships. It'll offend I am sure.
Work has been very unpredictable lately. I think I am coming to the end of my tenure here, and if that's the case.....FUCK IT. They have all of these outrageous expectations, and I think it's ridiculous. I have to leave work every day to go home and pay respects with some praying in the family. In their eyes I may as well have taken a shit at their desks while they were sitting at them.
Every job as expectations, and I am damn good at what I do and how I can adapt to things. The expectations they have are kind of out there though. I work for a beverage distribution company, and they want us to sell drinks most people in South Florida have never heard of or seen OVER THE PHONE. World, meet the dumb asses I work with. Dumb asses, meet the world.
I am working on a new blog about relationships and why people stay in them despite how toxic they are for themselves and all of their relationships. It'll offend I am sure.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Size matters....
Is bigger better? Bigger beds, purses, asses, glasses. I like everything bigger cause I have a personality that's larger than life AND an ass to match. But when I refer to size matters in this arena, you know what I mean: DICKS.
Now you could sit there and bullshit all you want, but a big dick is important. The first guy I had sex with had a penis the size of a Vienna sausage. It's actually a good thing too, cause I now look back on him as my starter dick. I won't put his name out there, but those 4 inches were a travesty. (God, remember that Heather? LOSER.)
The next guy was a little bit better cause he knew he had a small penis, but he had all the stamina of a jack rabbit. The next guy was more of the same, and then we get to a long running friend who has great sack skills. He opened my world (and my walls) up to a whole new class of penis. Now I demand nothing less than that. If it's under 7 inches, I just can't do it. Size queen? Maybe, but at least I am getting satisfied.
I have a question for all of those guys who are 4 or 5 inches. How do you cope with that ego wise? Do you look at your dick as the little engine that could? Or do you want to pull a Lorena Bobbitt and chuck that mother out a window into a field?
Inquiring minds want to know!
Fashionable as always,
Marsha Dimes
P.S. I am getting my first set of tattoos today. Wish me luck!
Now you could sit there and bullshit all you want, but a big dick is important. The first guy I had sex with had a penis the size of a Vienna sausage. It's actually a good thing too, cause I now look back on him as my starter dick. I won't put his name out there, but those 4 inches were a travesty. (God, remember that Heather? LOSER.)
The next guy was a little bit better cause he knew he had a small penis, but he had all the stamina of a jack rabbit. The next guy was more of the same, and then we get to a long running friend who has great sack skills. He opened my world (and my walls) up to a whole new class of penis. Now I demand nothing less than that. If it's under 7 inches, I just can't do it. Size queen? Maybe, but at least I am getting satisfied.
I have a question for all of those guys who are 4 or 5 inches. How do you cope with that ego wise? Do you look at your dick as the little engine that could? Or do you want to pull a Lorena Bobbitt and chuck that mother out a window into a field?
Inquiring minds want to know!
Fashionable as always,
Marsha Dimes
P.S. I am getting my first set of tattoos today. Wish me luck!
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
No matter where you go, there you are..
So, it's been awhile since I have written a blog and that sucks. I apologize readers. So much has happened, so let's take it back to Labor Day weekend. It was a good weekend, and I had a great time at Voodoo with everyone. The posse was looking amazing of course.
These past few weeks has been about work, and me trying to figure out what I am looking for in myself, and what I'll be doing next. Let's take a trip to Man Land! (Otherwise known as, the Bullshit Bonanza!)
Steph and Sag Balls tried to set me up with Sag Ball's best friend Sean. He had had an interest in me for awhile, and I always thought he was a nice enough guy. He'd been hitting on me for months, but I never reciprocated because I was so wrapped up in Mr. Charles. (Who we'll be getting to later. Oh, the drama.) So anyway, I went ahead and told Steph to give him my number cause, really, what did I have to lose? (You can tell by that statement right there, that this little story won't end well.)
So, the first night we hung out he picked me up, cooked for me, we watched Casino and Heat and laughed and had a good time. He's a good listenener for the most part, and he was respectful of my space. Those are the good things. Let's now talk about the bad:
1. He wouldn't give me his phone number. Apparently, the cell phone he had was not his, and he would have to give it back soon so he didn't want me to have the number. Everytime he called me, it was from a private number. So that means, he had access to me whenever he wanted, but not vice versa. Strike one!
2. I have a big thing with punctuality and people doing what they say they are going to do. If you make plans with me to hang out, you'd better show up or giving me the respect of calling to let me know the deal. This chicken leg mothefucker stood me up two days after we first hung out, AND he didn't bother to call me and tell me why. Strike two!
3. He blew me off for football. I can't even get in depth with this one, because it'll piss me off all over again. He called me the next night to try and explain, but I already got all the info from other sources and told him that that wasn't going to work for me.
Know this: I HAVE NO TOLERANCE FOR BULLSHIT. NONE.
If I don't need you in my life, you won't be there. So I just told him it wouldn't ever work out, and we said our goodbyes. He's friends with Sag Balls anyway, and you are who you associate with friendwise. If you're friends with a bunch of lame assholes, chances are good you're a lame asshole too.
Now, on to this past weekend. I saw Mr. Marine again. He found me in the club and tried to be all nice and social despite the fact he ignored me for months because I told him I liked Mr. Charles. At least I was honest! I could have went along sleeping with Mr. Charles while I talked to Mr. Marine. But it's hard enough to keep track of one person you're talking to, let alone fifty. (I'm looking at you, SANTIAGO! Love you boo.)
So he came out and tried talking to me, but his only usefulness was getting me and my friends free drinks. I blew him off right away. Do I have a loser sign tacked to my forehead?! Please dating gods, no more losers.
And speaking of potential losers, let's get into Mr. Charles. He called last night and we had an hour plus conversation. He told me about his new job, and he wants to have me visit him at the end of October. He'll be paying for the hotel and different expenses, and I would just have to pay for my plane ticket.
Now, I know I said he and I were done. But.....why can't we be done after a little sex, hmm? I haven't been with a lot of guys (not that you needed to know that), and of the guys I have been with he was hands down the best dick I've ever had. Once I go up there, I can tell him face to face how I feel. We can clear all the air and decide to be long distance platonic friends, or whatever.
On paper he has so many qualities I don't like in men I choose to date. But, I can't deny the way I feel, and neither should he. So, I think I might go. Or not. Shit, I can't make that decision yet.
Onto things that really matter outside of my little world: fashion and music.
If you watched the VMAs this past Sunday you know how much of a general yawn fest it was. I mean, give me some show MTV! The only entertaining performances were Pink's, Christina's, Rihanna's, her duet with T.I. and Paramore. Everything else was a hot mess.
Fashion Rocks 5 was on last night, and all I wanted to do was take a bucket of fried chicken and give it to all the models. SHITEOUS. Otherwise, I loved it.
Rachael Zoe's new show debuted last night. And even though she's a human female version of Skeletor from He-Man, she can style like a motherfucker. Shout outs to Joy Bryant in the red Zac Posen. Loves it.
So, that's all for now folks. Men: keep your dick up. Ladies: keep the style hot.
Fashiontastically yours,
Ms. Dimes
P.S. Can we send out a message to all celebs who create fashion lines and perfumes? STOP.
These past few weeks has been about work, and me trying to figure out what I am looking for in myself, and what I'll be doing next. Let's take a trip to Man Land! (Otherwise known as, the Bullshit Bonanza!)
Steph and Sag Balls tried to set me up with Sag Ball's best friend Sean. He had had an interest in me for awhile, and I always thought he was a nice enough guy. He'd been hitting on me for months, but I never reciprocated because I was so wrapped up in Mr. Charles. (Who we'll be getting to later. Oh, the drama.) So anyway, I went ahead and told Steph to give him my number cause, really, what did I have to lose? (You can tell by that statement right there, that this little story won't end well.)
So, the first night we hung out he picked me up, cooked for me, we watched Casino and Heat and laughed and had a good time. He's a good listenener for the most part, and he was respectful of my space. Those are the good things. Let's now talk about the bad:
1. He wouldn't give me his phone number. Apparently, the cell phone he had was not his, and he would have to give it back soon so he didn't want me to have the number. Everytime he called me, it was from a private number. So that means, he had access to me whenever he wanted, but not vice versa. Strike one!
2. I have a big thing with punctuality and people doing what they say they are going to do. If you make plans with me to hang out, you'd better show up or giving me the respect of calling to let me know the deal. This chicken leg mothefucker stood me up two days after we first hung out, AND he didn't bother to call me and tell me why. Strike two!
3. He blew me off for football. I can't even get in depth with this one, because it'll piss me off all over again. He called me the next night to try and explain, but I already got all the info from other sources and told him that that wasn't going to work for me.
Know this: I HAVE NO TOLERANCE FOR BULLSHIT. NONE.
If I don't need you in my life, you won't be there. So I just told him it wouldn't ever work out, and we said our goodbyes. He's friends with Sag Balls anyway, and you are who you associate with friendwise. If you're friends with a bunch of lame assholes, chances are good you're a lame asshole too.
Now, on to this past weekend. I saw Mr. Marine again. He found me in the club and tried to be all nice and social despite the fact he ignored me for months because I told him I liked Mr. Charles. At least I was honest! I could have went along sleeping with Mr. Charles while I talked to Mr. Marine. But it's hard enough to keep track of one person you're talking to, let alone fifty. (I'm looking at you, SANTIAGO! Love you boo.)
So he came out and tried talking to me, but his only usefulness was getting me and my friends free drinks. I blew him off right away. Do I have a loser sign tacked to my forehead?! Please dating gods, no more losers.
And speaking of potential losers, let's get into Mr. Charles. He called last night and we had an hour plus conversation. He told me about his new job, and he wants to have me visit him at the end of October. He'll be paying for the hotel and different expenses, and I would just have to pay for my plane ticket.
Now, I know I said he and I were done. But.....why can't we be done after a little sex, hmm? I haven't been with a lot of guys (not that you needed to know that), and of the guys I have been with he was hands down the best dick I've ever had. Once I go up there, I can tell him face to face how I feel. We can clear all the air and decide to be long distance platonic friends, or whatever.
On paper he has so many qualities I don't like in men I choose to date. But, I can't deny the way I feel, and neither should he. So, I think I might go. Or not. Shit, I can't make that decision yet.
Onto things that really matter outside of my little world: fashion and music.
If you watched the VMAs this past Sunday you know how much of a general yawn fest it was. I mean, give me some show MTV! The only entertaining performances were Pink's, Christina's, Rihanna's, her duet with T.I. and Paramore. Everything else was a hot mess.
Fashion Rocks 5 was on last night, and all I wanted to do was take a bucket of fried chicken and give it to all the models. SHITEOUS. Otherwise, I loved it.
Rachael Zoe's new show debuted last night. And even though she's a human female version of Skeletor from He-Man, she can style like a motherfucker. Shout outs to Joy Bryant in the red Zac Posen. Loves it.
So, that's all for now folks. Men: keep your dick up. Ladies: keep the style hot.
Fashiontastically yours,
Ms. Dimes
P.S. Can we send out a message to all celebs who create fashion lines and perfumes? STOP.
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