Looking forward

I'm still not always convinced that a third child will be coming into our family in a few short months. Then yesterday, I saw my sons' faces light up and eyes bug out when they saw the ultrasound for the first time and gosh dang it -- what can I say? My stony heart melted.

Certain things I can now start to look forward to have begun to set in, like:

• No more sad attempts at trying to use those stupid pee-pee tee-pees for the pure novelty of them. 
• No more urine soaked drapes and walls.
• No more clumping Vaseline around miniature circumcisions.
• My yelling of, "Get your hands out of your pants!" will not increase by another 1/3.
• No more (than usual) walking into bath time where I've indeed uninterrupted something special between a boy and his penis.

And why's that?

Well, because this baby is a girl!

Probably.

Woot!

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Abercrombie's a Bitch

I don't know if you've read the lasted "fashion philosophy" by Abercrombie & Fitch but basically, they refuse to make clothes over a size 10 because they only want thin, popular, beautiful people wearing their clothes. A-to-the-motherfucking-Hem. (Here's the full, nauseating article.)

Because everyone over a size 10 is ugly and uncool?
Obviously.

Since the "average" woman's size is a 12/14, I'll like to wave to Abercrombie while they sit up there on their high horse . . .
all by themselves.

What I'd like to ask A&F is whether or not they are, in fact, aware that "uncool" people come in small sizes? Do they have their own version of the Walmart people greeter standing at the door, inspecting each customer's attractiveness before they're granted permission to enter through the velvet rope?

Not bloody likely.

I made these ads to illustrate my disdain for this company. Yay!

Uh huh.

I should mention in that article, there are shout outs to fashion brands that are much more on the level when it comes to enforcing positive women's body images in all sizes, and that's fantastic. 

As for Abercrombie? Adios, douchebags!

----------------------------------

*Creative note: I don't like labeling people on degrees of "coolness" either, but I typed in "nerd girl" and got that first image, so really, a search engine chose it for me ;)

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One Slippery Winner!

The results are in! Thank you so much to everyone that entered my slippery giveaway! It was so much fun -- both reviewing it AND checking out all the entries. I remember reading this particular entry and thinking, "What a cheeky, lazy bitch." And when I called her on it on the Twitter, this is how it went down . . .

@ladyestrogen I can't believe you expect ANYONE to count all that. Come on.
— Rebecca(@ManicMamaG) April 16, 2013

So needless to say, when I went on my trusty Rafflecopter app (which is pretty easy to use, btw) and chose a random winner FOR MY MOST AWESOMEST CONTEST EVER, which was Rebecca's entry (out of 118 possibilities), I laughed my fucking ass off.

Congratulations, you damn underachiever!

And by the way, the answer was 12, including the subject line. Here's a nerdy little secret to these types of questions -- just hit Ctrl + F and enter the word; it will give you the answer instantly. Because really, I wasn't going to count them manually either. Heh.

Thanks again to everyone that entered!

Hopefully, my sponsor was blown away with my amazing review & will continue to send me a plethora of goodies for me to share with all of you. Ahem.

x

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Lube Me Up, Buttercup!

Hoe-lee-shit. This marks my 400th post and never in a million years, if 399 posts ago you were to tell me that by this time I would be pregnant and testing lube . . . and at the same time . . . I'd call you a dirty fucking liar. But here I am, up the duff and getting my husband to spread heat-inducing lube all over my pleasure zones.

This is technically a sponsored post by Trojan, since I got all the lube for free, but, umm... FREE LUBE, PEOPLE. Plus, since it's my 400th post, I feel like celebrating and I'm giving away probably thee best prize package that I've EVER had on my site. Again, thanks to Trojan, because when I got their package in the mail, it was huge, first of all. And I couldn't figure out why, but then I opened it and it has not only 3 boxes of lube in it, but a purple sexy satin body wrap. I was impressed! Needless to say, I took one look at the robe and saw that it would likely wrap 1 of my thighs . . . maybe. But the kind gesture will not go unfulfilled, because it will also be a part of the fabulous lube inspired giveaway! Umm, yes!

Now, firstly, I need to admit that among all my weird and wonderful sexcapades, I've NEVER used lube before. It could be the fact that the mere mention of sex turns me on like a cool faucet on a hot summer's day; or it could be because I've always been too fucking cheap to spend $20 on these products, even though I've always been curious about them. If it's solely the later reason, I would like to go back and bitch slap that cheap ass woman and buy it. It's worth it. Every penny.

I tried out 2 of the 3 varieties I was sent, which seems to have done me more than enough favors, so I kept the 3rd bottle unopened to contribute towards the giveaway. I splooged out some "Arouses & Intensifies" while my hubs cracked into the "Tingly Warmth" lube. They are both slightly similar, but in the best way possible. What I mean is that I get warm when I'm aroused anyway, so they were both winners.

If you were a fly in the room, you would have heard things like, "Hey, I could probably get my whole hand up there with this lube!"

To which you also would have heard, "OIYE! Let's leave the fisting up to the professionals!" 

But seriously, it is quite effective as far as greasing up the runway goes. Hand jobs are also waaaay easier with lube. Just sayin'.

And yet, it's not actually "greasy" at all. I was impressed with how it didn't make me feel disgusting afterwards -- something that I guess I always assumed when thinking about lube.

My ultimate opinion about these products can be spelled out in one simple phrase: I climaxed during actual intercourse. I don't know about you, but the last time THAT happened for me was somewhere around 2011.

So, thank you, Trojan! 
(Which actually sounds a little weird when I say that since I'm pregnant, come to think of it . . . but whatever ;)

And since I'm in such a goddamn awesome mood, I'm also including a double bullet with dual remote control into the prize package, courtesy of Eden Fantasys.

Behold. All of this could be yours . . .

RIGHT? I'm pretty excited about this prize so I hope some of you are as well.
I'm also trying out Rafflecopter for this contest -- high tech shiz, I know. Please use it and enter so I can keep track of crap and be all official. YAHOO!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Breaking News from Crazytown

So, there's a reason I've been a bit absent these days, and now I can finally tell you.

I'm having Gerard Butler's love child. It's OK. My husband knows and he's agreed to raise it as his own. Isn't that amazing of him?

Okay, so I'm kind of joking. I bet y'all were totally fooled, RIGHT? Ahem.

But, there is some truth to my bullshit.

I'm having baby number three.

Oops.

Hold me.

It's been a bumpy ride so far; pregnancy sucks, yo.

I shall leave you with the words of my beloved grandmother when I told her the news:

"You're pregnant? Well, that's what happens when you let him stick his dick in you."

You think I'm kidding, but I'm totally not.

Oooh. And by the way, you're a fan of my granny, you can follow her on Twitter to hear all her other gems. *wink wink*

Good times.

Fuck.

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So this happened . . .

"Honey, check out the hot deals on the end cap shelf there."

*wink wink*

Husband: "Ohh, ribbed for her pleasure. And on clearance! Sweet."

"For that price, we should probably buy them, ya know, to test them out."

H: "Yeah. That's totally the reason . . . for the greater good."

"Well, it might be a good idea anyway. With me not working, it'd be the absolute worst time for us to have an 'accident', ya know what I mean?"

H: "Fine. Good point. Very good point."


--- Later that evening ---


H: "Here. You can put it on."

"Awesome. I love when you talk dirty to me."

"Oh my god. I feel as if I haven't done this in a decade."

H: "Yep. It's been about that long!"

"I feel like a teenager!"

H: "Oh yeah. I always forget about your slutty high school years."

"This, as you're trying to get me to put a condom on your cock? I love you, baby."

H: "Uh huh."

"Ohh, I remembered to leave room at the tip!"


--- A couple minutes later ---


H: "Am I in?"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, ARE YOU IN? YES, YOU'RE IN."

H: "I can't feel anything."

*pound pound*

"Anything? You're pounding just fine."

*pound pound*

H: "Do you feel the ribbing?"

*pound pound*

"Umm. Nope."

*pound pound*

"Are you going to be able to finish if you can't feel it?"

*pound pound*

H: "Oh yeah. I'm close."

"But you can't even feel anything? Life is tough for you, babe. Humm."

*pound pound*

H: "Here I come!"

*rolls over*

"Here's a tissue for that ribbed disappointment . . . where is it?"

H: "Ugh. I dunno."

"YOU'RE MEANT TO HOLD ON TO IT WHEN YOU WITHDRAW."

H: "Oops."

*I fished the condom out of my hoohaa*

"It was unsatisfying for both of us, kind of, and didn't even work as birth control?! Well that was fun."

H: "Meh."

"I want a do over. Soon."

*he reaches over and hands me my toy.*

"Humph."

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Amurikan Food

I've been wanting to compile these since I got back, but I've been otherwise indisposed -- all will be made clear soon enough, I promise. Aside from the outrageous pro-gun, anti-abortion, anti-Obama billboards that accosted my eyes for the majority of the trip, there were some strange food-related things that I witnessed that I wanted to share . . . especially if you happened to miss them on The Twitter.

Dear Dirty Ernie's Rib Pit, You might just have the best ribs in the state, but personally, I'm not willing to take that chance.
— Lady Eströgen (@ladyestrogen) March 11, 2013

Seriously, Ernie. You might very well be dirty, but don't mention that in the title of your restaurant; just a thought, purely from a marketing perspective.

Also passed a store that was both a Greek takeaway *AND* an adult video store. Their slogan should've been "Satisfies Both Your Appetites".
— Lady Eströgen (@ladyestrogen) March 11, 2013

I would have LOVED to be a fly on the wall for that family discussion: "Greek food!" "Porn!" "No, Greek food!" "How about both?" "Humm, okay."

America, need your help with this: Quaker STEAK & LUBE?! I thought it was a typo & hubs thought I was on crack until we saw it 3 more times.
— Lady Eströgen (@ladyestrogen) March 11, 2013

This still confuses me, but apparently it's a Pennsylvania thing?

Passed a sign that said, "WARM BOILED PEANUTS." . . . like, for eating? Sounds repulsive, unless they're drowned in chocolate.
— Lady Eströgen (@ladyestrogen) March 10, 2013

Ew. They should call them Squirrel Testicles, because if they were warm and mushy, it's kind of what I would think I'm eating. Peanuts are meant to be either crunchy or smooth as hell in a PP&J sandwich; there is no in between.

Ordered a baked sweet potato & it came covered in marshmallows . . . America, please explain!
— Lady Eströgen (@ladyestrogen) March 9, 2013

I would have thought when I said, "Hold the chives" that it was a hint to my waiter that I was NOT expecting marshmallows on my potato, but no. I still dry wretch when I think about it.

On a positive note, I did eat at an iHop for the first time during this trip. I had pancakes that were drizzled with the cinnamon filling AND the cream cheese icing from a Cinnabon roll. Are you freaking kidding me? It was goddamn divine. Myself and my newly formed triple chin thank you.

What foods in other countries (or your own) do you find awesome, bizarre, hilarious or just plain disgusting?

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America Saves Poor Little Veronica Mars!

It's truly a heartwarming thing when a nation rallies together to rapidly raise $1 million dollars for a movie about a girl who's . . .

dying of cancer

orphaned from tragedy

impoverished but had a cute YouTube video

ooohhh, that's right . . . Veronica Mars is a fictional character from a mildly amusing TV show played by Kristen Bell . . . who could have easily either self-funded the movie or had no problem finding Hollywood funding with those oddly inset eyes and that million dollar smile of hers.

It's so refreshing to see a "fundraiser" as important as the making of a Hollywood movie go so extremely well, and so quickly when it's endorsed by celebrities. I am amazed, for real. Especially when small, "faceless" organizations all over the world are screaming for donations for, ohh, I don't know . . . let's say arts education, abused woman & children's safe houses, foster programs, Cancer & HIV research and treatments, disaster relief, etc, etc.

It's awesome to see that America has its priorities straight.

Congratulations on reaching $1 million of every day people's dollars to create a movie that will earn you at least 50 times that amount. Then, those same donors will pay you a second time when they then go see the movie in theatre. I assume you have every single donor's contact details so you can repay them, and at least double their contribution as a token of your gratitude . . .
because you'll totally be doing that, RIGHT?

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5 Reasons Why Soap Opera Pregnancies Suck

It's no secret that one of my many vices, (after chocolate, cheese and cunnilingus) is my addiction to soap operas. As I'm vegging out on the couch during my currently very stress-filled life, I watch all these women (and often girls) go through these tumultuous pregnancies -- I mean, really -- has there ever been a full term pregnancy go by on a daytime show that was uneventful? Preposterous!

And we thought we had issues? I guess it could always be worse . . . like, soap opera worse.

5. Your pregnancy is high risk because a few years back you got shot in the Fallopian tube & the very fact that you conceived is nothing short of a daytime miracle. You lose it anyway and feel you should make the most of it, so you throw yourself down the stairs and blame it on that bitch that you hate so she can be charged with murder.

4. You have your entire pregnancy in hiding & let no one know about it because the father of the baby is a guy who is a crime boss that you just so happened to shoot in the head a while back. He must have managed to let that little detail slide and decided you two needed to have sex . . . obvs!

3. You're rushed in with premature contractions, get drugged and have your baby taken right out of your womb. Then, when you come to, you're told that your baby was still born and are handed the ashes, all the while your actual baby is fine and healthy and has been given to someone else to raise.

2. You actually lost the baby but in order to hang on to your man, you get various sizes of fake baby bumps and try to pretend that you're still pregnant, while plotting to steal someone else's baby. You get around the whole intimacy thing by telling him that due to the "high risk" nature of the pregnancy, no intimacy whatsoever is allowed. Baby kicks? Fuck that. Stay away from ma' fake belly!

1. You have sex with two different men within 48 hours and end up falling pregnant with twins that have different fathers. Shut up! My twins were apparently conceived 3 days apart, so it could, like, totally happen.

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Heavy Heart

I was going to write about how I think I did okay at my Dragon's Den audition,
but I'm not going to be holding my breath for a phone call.

Then I was going to write about how this weather is really starting to make me crazy . . .

But since I will be off to Florida in a couple days, I was going to write about how I have to suck it up.

And then I got a phone call.

Thee phone call.

Anna passed away.

And everything else seems frivolous.

I will be missing the visitation and the funeral, and I feel ill about it.

But I will be there for them every day after.

If those 3 beautiful children need anything that I could possibly provide, I'll be there.

And that's all I have to say about that.

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