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.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Who's ready to unleash themselves this weekend?
Hi friends and lovers. I have been a very bad blogger indeed. I have been so busy with work shit that I haven't been able to blog or work on my writing at all. It's made me go back on my word.
But realy quick here is the update:
1. The t.v. production company I work for is on it's last leg. Quel surprise. The good news is we are now going into beverage distribution so I have a new job and title. I am now the Sr. Organizational Director of Marketing and Sales. :)
2. Mr. Charles called me last night after not speaking to him for almost a full two weeks. I don't know how I feel about it yet, to be honest. I haven't had a chance to sort my feelings out. But when I do, I'll let you know.
3. Labor Day is this weekend, and I am so prepared to get out there and have a great time as the send off to summer. And what a crazy summer it has been, hmmm?
4. The DNC ended yesterday. Viva Barack! McCain chose a woman to be his V.P. And even though she's a vampiric whore, it's about time a woman did something else in the White House besides be a First Lady, gave a blow job, or lied to the American public because her boss told her so. (I am looking at you Condoleeza!)
And that's all folks. Enjoy yourselves, be safe, and I'll see you on the other side.
Fashionably yours,
Ms. Dimes.
But realy quick here is the update:
1. The t.v. production company I work for is on it's last leg. Quel surprise. The good news is we are now going into beverage distribution so I have a new job and title. I am now the Sr. Organizational Director of Marketing and Sales. :)
2. Mr. Charles called me last night after not speaking to him for almost a full two weeks. I don't know how I feel about it yet, to be honest. I haven't had a chance to sort my feelings out. But when I do, I'll let you know.
3. Labor Day is this weekend, and I am so prepared to get out there and have a great time as the send off to summer. And what a crazy summer it has been, hmmm?
4. The DNC ended yesterday. Viva Barack! McCain chose a woman to be his V.P. And even though she's a vampiric whore, it's about time a woman did something else in the White House besides be a First Lady, gave a blow job, or lied to the American public because her boss told her so. (I am looking at you Condoleeza!)
And that's all folks. Enjoy yourselves, be safe, and I'll see you on the other side.
Fashionably yours,
Ms. Dimes.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Bad in bed, good in love?
Oh friends, how are we on this Fabulous Friday? Good, I hope. It's Ms. Dimes here with another installment of all things love and dating. The next topic of conversation is all about love versus sex. Let's get juicy.
Let's say you are in a relationship and all is going well. They make you laugh, you're comfortable around them, and they get along with your friends and family. Hell, you could even pass gas around them and they would laugh it off because they like you that much. But, there is just one big problem: they suck in the sack. Try as you both might, it's just not good. Is that a deal breaker? Could you be with someone you really loved, but who was bad at booty?
Allow me to be honest here: sex is important. Not as important as their personality. But just about for this girl. Why buy the car if the engine keeps stalling out? It makes no sense. And that seemed to be the majority of the consensus when I asked around.
And then there were the romantic players who said that if someone was bad in bed you could gear them to go more towards what you liked sexually. I could agree with that. If your g-spot curves left, you could teach Bad Sex Brad to go left. But there is no substitute for someone who isn't willing to learn what pleases you. If Brad (or whatever the name of your amour is) isn't willing to learn a few new tricks, dump that dead weight faster than a starlet does before the Oscars.
There is no excuse for laziness! Lazy lovers can hit the door. And that's my tidbit for the day. I hope everyone's weekend is just as fabulous as it can be.
Fashiontastically yours,
Ms. Dimes
Let's say you are in a relationship and all is going well. They make you laugh, you're comfortable around them, and they get along with your friends and family. Hell, you could even pass gas around them and they would laugh it off because they like you that much. But, there is just one big problem: they suck in the sack. Try as you both might, it's just not good. Is that a deal breaker? Could you be with someone you really loved, but who was bad at booty?
Allow me to be honest here: sex is important. Not as important as their personality. But just about for this girl. Why buy the car if the engine keeps stalling out? It makes no sense. And that seemed to be the majority of the consensus when I asked around.
And then there were the romantic players who said that if someone was bad in bed you could gear them to go more towards what you liked sexually. I could agree with that. If your g-spot curves left, you could teach Bad Sex Brad to go left. But there is no substitute for someone who isn't willing to learn what pleases you. If Brad (or whatever the name of your amour is) isn't willing to learn a few new tricks, dump that dead weight faster than a starlet does before the Oscars.
There is no excuse for laziness! Lazy lovers can hit the door. And that's my tidbit for the day. I hope everyone's weekend is just as fabulous as it can be.
Fashiontastically yours,
Ms. Dimes
Thursday, August 21, 2008
How soon is too soon? Who makes the rules?
Hooking up. Getting down. Fucking. Love making. Knocking boots. Mattress mambo. Booty. Coloring. It has so many names I could write a whole blog full of them, and still have tons more to write because it has so many different monikers. But for the sake of keeping it simple, we'll just call it by its universal name of sex.
How fast should we do it after first meeting someone? Or should we wait until the feeling is right? It's an interesting thought. How soon is too soon to hook up with someone? Five minutes? A day? A week? Three months? Does it mean the sex will be better if we wait? Or should sex become like a handshake? Should it decide if a guy is worth the time?
(Now some people define hooking up as making out or dry humping. I call those people pussies. I kid, I kid......sort of.)
For the purposes of my survey (and this blog) - it's sex. Now, as a single girl I have hooked up with a few guys and some waited more then others. For me, it's all about the chemistry and the moment. If him and I are feeling it, it can happen instantly. When I was in middle and high school, I had the princess and fairy tale fantasy of relationships. I would meet a guy and we would wait, and the sex would be great because our feelings for each other would make it be incredible.
Just let that sink in a little. Yeah, LAME. What the hell was I thinking?!?
As I got older I realized that two people can really like each other sexually and romantically, and the sex can still be more dull than watching grass grow. (Not the good grass, of course.)
The fastest I have ever hooked up with a guy was within a few hours. We shall call him......Stumpy Dick. Stumpy Dick had a few things going for him. He was nice enough, and he had a decent sense of humor. But he almost seemed....desperate. Like he caught a whiff of pussy, and he followed the smell like a dog to a steak. We met, we chatted, and we had sex. Dull, meaningless, poke-your-teeny-dick-in-my-pussy-faster-so-you-can-get-the-fuck-off me sex. I knew when he was on top of me that it would never happen again, and I wouldn't orgasm. I think of it as taking one for the team, and it boosted my self esteem interestingly enough. It wasn't about him. It was about me coming to terms with the fact that my pussy carries a certain power and I had just learned that I can harness it. Stumpy Dick was hooked, but my drug was no longer available. Sorry Stump!
The longest I have ever made a guy wait to get it on was a month. We'll call him Rabbit Man. Rabbit Man was....interesting. He had all the stamina of a rabbit, and we did it everywhere. I do find it interesting that I was intoxicated the majority of the time we did it, and it always amounted in me debasing myself in some way. NOT WORTH IT. Making him wait didn't make it better. It had nothing to do with it. The chemistry was not there, and I faked it with alcohol because I didn't realize that I didn't have to force it.
Time and sex are not mutually exclusive is what I am saying here people. It never is, and it never will be. It's about how the both of you feel about yourselves, each other, and the moment. There are no rules unless you make them.
So, drop me a line and tell your tales. Let it all hang out.
Love and blow jobs,
Ms. Dimes
P.S. You think that was graphic? You ain't seem nothing yet!
How fast should we do it after first meeting someone? Or should we wait until the feeling is right? It's an interesting thought. How soon is too soon to hook up with someone? Five minutes? A day? A week? Three months? Does it mean the sex will be better if we wait? Or should sex become like a handshake? Should it decide if a guy is worth the time?
(Now some people define hooking up as making out or dry humping. I call those people pussies. I kid, I kid......sort of.)
For the purposes of my survey (and this blog) - it's sex. Now, as a single girl I have hooked up with a few guys and some waited more then others. For me, it's all about the chemistry and the moment. If him and I are feeling it, it can happen instantly. When I was in middle and high school, I had the princess and fairy tale fantasy of relationships. I would meet a guy and we would wait, and the sex would be great because our feelings for each other would make it be incredible.
Just let that sink in a little. Yeah, LAME. What the hell was I thinking?!?
As I got older I realized that two people can really like each other sexually and romantically, and the sex can still be more dull than watching grass grow. (Not the good grass, of course.)
The fastest I have ever hooked up with a guy was within a few hours. We shall call him......Stumpy Dick. Stumpy Dick had a few things going for him. He was nice enough, and he had a decent sense of humor. But he almost seemed....desperate. Like he caught a whiff of pussy, and he followed the smell like a dog to a steak. We met, we chatted, and we had sex. Dull, meaningless, poke-your-teeny-dick-in-my-pussy-faster-so-you-can-get-the-fuck-off me sex. I knew when he was on top of me that it would never happen again, and I wouldn't orgasm. I think of it as taking one for the team, and it boosted my self esteem interestingly enough. It wasn't about him. It was about me coming to terms with the fact that my pussy carries a certain power and I had just learned that I can harness it. Stumpy Dick was hooked, but my drug was no longer available. Sorry Stump!
The longest I have ever made a guy wait to get it on was a month. We'll call him Rabbit Man. Rabbit Man was....interesting. He had all the stamina of a rabbit, and we did it everywhere. I do find it interesting that I was intoxicated the majority of the time we did it, and it always amounted in me debasing myself in some way. NOT WORTH IT. Making him wait didn't make it better. It had nothing to do with it. The chemistry was not there, and I faked it with alcohol because I didn't realize that I didn't have to force it.
Time and sex are not mutually exclusive is what I am saying here people. It never is, and it never will be. It's about how the both of you feel about yourselves, each other, and the moment. There are no rules unless you make them.
So, drop me a line and tell your tales. Let it all hang out.
Love and blow jobs,
Ms. Dimes
P.S. You think that was graphic? You ain't seem nothing yet!
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