You talkin’ dirty to me?


So a friend of mine recently introduced me to Audible, the Amazon associated “talking book” App. Given that I (a) love to read and (b) spend an insane amount of time in the car driving to and from work, most of which is spent plotting the murders of my fellow motorists, she (and I), figured it would be a better, more productive use of my time.

She was right 🙂

It’s definitely a great distraction listening to a talking book, although I have to say, listening to it is an art form. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve zoned out, only to discovered 3 or more chapters have passed me by and I have no fucking clue as to what’s happened.

Side note: when Hubs A and I were driving across country once, his brother, who I shall refer to as Bro-in-Law, suggested we take the 12 disc talking book of 2001: A Space Odessy…Yes I shit you not, this was a 12 disc monstrosity that I have no desire to revisit again…ever. The fucking movie was bad enough, the talking book…Fuck me, forget water boarding, this is what should be used as a torture device. Naturally, while it was playing I fell asleep multiple times during this boring as fuck riveting book. Don’t worry, I wasn’t driving at the time, so we weren’t in any danger. However, because of the type of book it was, I could pretty much wake up at any point in the storyline, and sweet fuck all would have happened. And yes, I am being serious. I mean it took virtually an entire CD to describe that big black monolith (oh look, I took 3 words to describe it), that the apes stare at…fuck me.

Anyway, I digress.

Where was I? Oh yes, zoning out. So while that has happened with me in the past, it doesn’t tend to happen now, and I’ll give you one reason why…Sex.

Yep, you heard it, sex. This talking book I’m listening to, although dubbed as a crime/thriller, has sex…and plenty of it. And there is something strangely funny about listening to sex while it’s being read out loud to you. And before you start picturing all sorts of dirty scenarios, it’s not straight up porn you filthy perv. There’s no actual moaning or sound effects, but what there is, is thrusting and wetness and climaxing and…oh god, I can barely type this without laughing…seed exploding! Yeah, you heard me… Seed. Exploding. And let me tell you, it’s weird as fuck, sitting in a car, surrounded by your fellow morning commuters, barely awake as you mainline coffee and try not to kill anyone, while at the same time, listening to two fictional characters get off.

What a fucking wake-up call!

And yeah, it makes me laugh…out loud! It also makes me look around. You know, just to check my volume really isn’t that loud that everyone else can hear it too! I just hope to fuck I don’t crash the car or get pulled over, because I’m not quite sure how I’ll explain exploding seed to the cop that’s first on scene.


I may have watched a million times…


I’ve been meaning to post this for a while but it keeps gets pushed aside for more pressing issues like food. Shame on me because Ben Affleck should never be pushed aside for anything or anyone, even food.

So a few weeks ago was San Diego Comic-Con and the trailer for Batman vs. Superman: Dawn of Justice was revealed. And because I’m a total stalker, I obsessively YouTubed the trailer and watched it a million times before it was taken down. Boo…

But back to my post, now while I have nothing to share with all you lovelies other than my insane recount, you’ll just have to trust me on its awesomeness.

I legit gasped, maybe even screamed and flapped my hands in front of my face when BA appeared dressed as the caped crusader.

Let me set the scene: Dark, ominous fog and then a brooding Batman appears dressed in his hot as fuck latex Batsuit, which IMO is way better than the previous ones. He looks fucking huge and muscled and well, so fucking hot, like I wanna lick him hot. OMFG…. I need a cold shower. But yeah, where was I? The trailer… so it’s pouring down rain, yeah now he’s really fucking hot and wet and oh shit fuck… I really need a cold shower. Batman reaches for a lever and the Batsignal lights up the sky and who is hovering in the sky basked in the light of the Batsignal???!!! Superman!!!! Mega hot, Henry Motherfucking Cavill! Sweet baby Jesus save me! I’m never gonna make it through this movie. Thank fuck I have BFF to support me and wail, gasp and cry at the screen right along with me. And PM1 won’t fail me either. And back to the trailer again. So Superman’s heat vision joined with the light from the Batsignal makes the sky looking fucking awesome and then they cut back to Batman. Stop my damn heart, his eyes are glowing this cold steel blue and then it ends with that killer logo. You know the one… if not, check out the post PM1 and I did when I panicked about BA as Batman.

Overall, it was amazing, and everything I’m reading is telling me that there is a possibility they’re going a different route with this one. Making Batman older, and there have been some stills from the set with BA rocking some gray hair, so we’ll have to see how that plays out. I’m all for BA and his gray hair, makes him hotter in that distinguished way. (Who am I kidding? He’s hot no matter what.)

All I know is, next year, look out because I’m heading to Comic-Con. Let the stalking in person begin.


Holy Mother of Viking Gods…



Stop the fucking press…I’ve found my newest TV show obsession and the latest addition to what I like to refer to as my TV BFs.

Yes, I might be a little behind the eight ball, but whatever. Allow me to introduce the show, Vikings and the insanely sexy lead, whose blue eyes are nothing short of fucking mesmerizing, Ragnar Lothbrok (Travis Fimmel for googling purposes, peeps).

Holy shit…this show has got it all. I mean for starters, the guy is hot as fuck, but the story, the sets, the drama, the supporting cast, it’s all just epically fucking awesome. I’d heard rumors about this show, analogies of what it might be similar to, floating around and I gotta say, I totes agree…this show really is Sons of Anarchy meets Game of Thrones. And sexy Ragnor, well, he’s pretty much a Jax Teller – Jon Snow mash-up.

Yeah ladies, take a step the fuck back, this man is mine.

What’s it all about? Well, do we really care when this guy is strutting on screen? No, possibly not, but as good looking as he is, the story is also pretty kick ass too…and authentic, so major props to writer Michael Hirst for doing these Nordic bad boys justice. Telling the story of Ragnar, a rumored direct descendant of Odin (god of war and warriors for those of you who haven’t yet watched Thor), who leads his band of Viking brothers, while also looking after his family, in his quest to become King of the Viking Tribes. Not only is this man a fearless warrior, he’s a dedicated husband (plenty of sexy times peeps) and father. Thrown in for good measure is a healthy dose of Nordic traditions and devotion to the gods. I kid you not, I nearly shit myself when Ragnar told his son they were going to see Loki…

Fucking Loki!

Alas it wasn’t the cheeky little bad-boy we all know and love from such movies as Thor, Thor 2 and Avengers, but whatever, it’s a minor detail.

And quite frankly, Ragnar’s blue eyes more than make up for it. I mean seriously, it should be illegal to have eyes that blue. Holy fucking mother of Nordic gods, are they blue. And he is sexy and this show has got me hooked.

And for that Odin, I thank you.


True Blood…are you f**king kidding me???


Ok…in keeping with my earlier, TV show obsessed post, I need to have a rant about the latest True Blood episode. As a warning, anyone who hasn’t seen episode 3 yet, stop reading. Not only are there going to be spoilers, I’m about to rant like a fucking lunatic.

Because seriously True Blood writers…

What. The. Fuck. was THAT?

Seriously? That’s all Alcide gets?

A random shot to the head by some fucking unknown loser hiding in the bushes who’s never held a fucking gun before, while Alcide is standing there buck fucking naked (so fucking hot) after swooping in with Sam to save the fucking day?

Fuck. Me. That, is total bullshit.

Yeah ok, I get what you’re doing, we all fucking do, it’s been blatantly obvious since this show started. I mean we all know Sookie is going to end up with Bill. It’s been destined since episode 1 peeps, long before the show stopped following the books and long before it went off the rails with it’s ridiculous storyline about fucking Lilith, the vampire demi-god or whatever the fuck she was.

But that’s not what this rant post is about. No this is about how un-fucking-fair Alcide’s death was. I mean aside from the fact the guy is a 6’5” man of fucking steel werewolf, he’s also a nice fucking guy, a guaranteed bit of eye candy and someone the fans love. He deserved more than that. He deserved an epic fucking showdown that didn’t just showcase his fighting skills and his abs of fucking steel, but also his huge love for Sookie and the rest of his peeps.

Instead we get some random dickhead accidentally-on-purpose popping a cap in his head?

Fuck, the least you could do was pan the fucking camera down so we could get the full monty shot as Alcide lay there dying and I sat on my couch screaming “NOOOOOOOOO.”

And yes I know this is the final season and shit’s gonna get real, but fuck me, what exactly did his death accomplish? All it did was undermine just how fucking awesome Alcide is and make him look like a motherfucking pussy.

Oh, and make me motherfucking pissed.

Take note True Blood. Take. Note.


Kiera Knightley, she’s just like me… and you

celebrities they're just like us

I think I’ve mentioned this before, but I get People Magazine and it’s kinda the highlight of my week when I find it in my mailbox.

I usually read it cover to cover and one of my favorite parts is the last page, which is an editorial titled “One Last Thing”. It’s where People Magazine asks a few questions to a random celebrity and they give their answers.

So, as I read every week, it got me thinking. Celebrities always say they’re just like regular people. I decided to put this theory to the test and answer the questions in the “One Last Thing” portion of the magazine and compare my answers with the lovely Kiera Knightley. (She was this week’s celebrity interview.)

Here it is:

PM2                                                                Kiera Knightley

The blogger, 35,                                            The actress, 29,

drags her ass out of bed                              hits a high note in the

at the crack of dawn                                  new movie Begin Again.

to go to her regular job.


Last injury

Me: My back. I’m getting old and for some reason setting up and taking down a massive blowup water slide, proved too difficult, causing me to be unable to complete simple tasks like walking or loading the dishwasher due to the pain. There’s also a pretty decent possibility that it was also caused by heaving a hefty Mini 2 up off the grass after he lay there crying when his brother nailed him in the head with a Croc. All of this occurring when they were supposed to be playing in the water slide that took me twenty minutes to set up.

Kiera: Over Christmas I tore my quad muscle. I was filming and I had to run through a door. I hadn’t warmed up, and it got very cold, and when I tried to run it just happened. I couldn’t do very much with it until it healed.


Last time I sang out loud

Me: Today while on the way home from the grocery store. I belted out Rod Stewart’s Maggie Mae with my windows down and everyone within an earshot got an amazing tone-deaf version and I wasn’t the least bit embarrassed.

Kiera: Probably when I did this film. And it will probably be the last time! I’m sure I sing around the house or in the car, but I’m not really aware of it.


Last time I danced

Me: Last week (OMFG!! I found a similarity!!!) in my bedroom with my kids. We danced to a bizarre techno version of Bastille’s Pompeii Hubs B found on SoundCloud.

Kiera: Last week at a Croatian music festival call FOR Festival (where her husband James Righton’s band Klaxons performed). How I dance and for how long depends on how much I’ve had to drink.


Last thing I returned

Me: Besides library books, nothing. I’m impulsive and too lazy. I buy things but never return them.

Kiera: A pair of trousers that I bought over the Internet that were way too big for me. I hate shopping, so I’m a crap shopper. This just proves I’m a crap shopper, because the trousers didn’t fit.


Last vice I indulged in

Me: Last night (Again, another similarity!!) I ate my weight in churros and drank a several glasses of sangria. All of this after indulging in quesadillas loaded with sour cream and cheese. I really, really like food.

Kiera: Probably the two glasses of rose I had last night. I really, really like a big glass of white wine, big glasses of red wine, big glasses of rose, whatever. I’m equal opportunity. Absolutely.

Now you be the judge, but it’s like we’re leading parallel lives. Shocking, isn’t it?


FYI…The answers to Kiera’s “One Last Thing” questions came from the July 14, 2014 issue of People Magazine. One, two please don’t sue!

Working…a seriously dangerous pastime.


So my blog post today is somewhat concerning and somewhat perplexing. Allow me to explain.

I work in a health related industry and lately, various items around the work place have been going missing. This has been happening on a fairly regular basis and so far, with little to no explanation. Items have included tea, coffee, sugar, milk and various condiments…all of which I understand because essentially some people are tight asses and won’t buy this stuff themselves.

But it’s the other stuff that’s more worrying… You know, like the urine containers, the alcohol wipes, the biohazard bags, various pieces of medical equipment.

Because (a) who the fuck steals some of this shit and (b) when you stop and think about it all, the only logical explanation I can come up with, is that I’m working with a serial killer.

I mean seriously…who the fuck steals urine containers and biohazard bags? Serial killers, that’s who. I’m absolutely sure this stuff is being stolen to supply their on-the-side killing. Allow me to break it down for you:

Urine Containers: well clearly they have a weird fetish for piss and are choosing to keep a sample from each of their victims. Hey, no judgment…yeah right.

Alcohol wipes: obvious. They need to wipe down all surrounding surfaces post-kill to clear away the evidence. What better way to do it that with a bunch of employer-provided alcohol wipes. Although FYI serial killer, not sure this will destroy all the DNA you leave behind. You’ve been warned…although don’t take that as a threat 🙂

Biohazard bag: again, obvious. These are needed for wrapping body parts in for disposal in various random, yet unknown locations.

Medical equipment: clearly this is for torturing the victims pre-killing and frankly, I don’t want to think too much about this part.

Tea, coffee, milk & condiments: evidently killing is hard work and hey, who doesn’t like a nice cuppa after dismembering a body.

So far, despite supply cupboards being locked and security cameras being checked, I (and others) have no leads on the suspect. Safe to say I am keeping my eye on the kitchen knives and ensuring I am never alone in the building (fat chance of that happening, this is work after all). But if for some reason you don’t hear from me for a while, well, now you’ll know why.


Come on down…it’s Comeday!

So on the weekend my friend and I decided to head into this trendy little laid-back area near where I live, for a spot of shopping and a pint or two (or three) of beer. Strolling along, we came across this cool little pub that has recently reopened following 14 years of renovations. Yes, I shit you not, I’ve been living here since January 2000 and this year is the first time I have ever seen the scaffolding down and the doors open.

So, wanting to check out what 14 years of renovations would buy you, we stopped for a little peak inside. For the record, it does look very nice. Not sure it was worth 14 years of work, I mean I’d have probably been cracking skulls with the builders around the 14 month mark, but that’s not the point of this post. No, the point is to do with the sign inside that was listing the week’s events.


Standing in the door checking it out, I notice Monday is curry and pint night (nice, must bring Hubs A down for that one), Tuesday is open mic night (note to self, must try that when drunk enough) and Wednesday is Comeday…um, come again?

What. The. Fuck. Is Comeday?

I mean do I bring a fresh pair of panties and my vibrator, or is all of that stuff supplied/for sale on the night? And how exactly does this work, are we all in the pub together just randomly coming, or do we take turns in a back room? Is it singles only or can couples participate, and what exactly does the $10 cover charge get you?

As I’m standing there running through any number of perverted and downright weird scenarios in my brain, I turn to my friend and ask for her thoughts on this. This is how that conversation goes.

Me: “Comeday, what the fuck is comeday?”

My friend: “I don’t know, should we ask them?”

Me: laughing…“Ohhhh fuck, it’s Comedy, not fucking Come-day!”

As we stood there pissing ourselves laughing, I couldn’t help but think, well you guys sure as fuck got a laugh out of us. I mean, if Wednesday night Comedy is anything like this then I’m there.

And hey, if it really is Comeday…then that’s not bad either! Just don’t even get me started on Thursday night…WTF??!!