Posted in Humor, Life, Satire

3 Ways To Let Down That Man At The Gas Station

How to let him know you can’t love him like he deserves

A man smiling at a woman at a gas station.

I am a creature of routine. Every morning, I stop at the same gas station on the way to work to get my coffee or snacks or gas. Yes, I know this is a frivolous expense. I decided to cut corners elsewhere, OK? Back off.

Anyway, let’s get back on point. At the same gas station, there’s a man who thinks I am the love of his life. Well, he thinks I am and every other woman that comes in there is, too.

I’m not sure if he’s drunk or on crack or just extremely horny. Regardless, he doesn’t seem to want to take no as an answer. I have tried letting him down gently and I have tried telling him to f**k off. Nothing will throw this man off of his intense mission to find a mate at the Circle K.

My first attempt to shake him off went like this. He moseyed up behind me as I waited in line at the gas station, Cheezy Puffs in hand. He got extremely close to me standing in line and I could smell his beer breath on my neck. Every woman’s favorite.

He put his ice cold, forty ounce Natural Ice on my back, which was showing at the top of my dress, causing me to jump and yell, “Fucktard!” He then proceeded to apologize and segued straight into asking me if I wanted to fornicate behind the dumpster. Has there ever been a more beautiful moment?

But, alas, I was/am married. I just asked him, “Who the hell do you think you are?” Before he could answer, I scurried off to my job as this happened at 7:30 in the morning.

Take 2

He tried again a week later. This time, it was right after work. I popped in to buy a bottle of wine and a lottery ticket. I finished my transaction and was about to walk out the door when I heard him slur, “Hey, girl! You want to give Daddy a dollar?”

I looked around, but saw no one who seemed to be his father. At this point, I started to get annoyed. I mean, who pretends to beg for his father? Still, being the southern lady that I am, I just told him to fuck off and went about my day.

Take 3

About a month later, I popped into my gas station and this time I was in a bad mood. Picture the witch song from The Wizard of Oz playing as I walked in. It was definitely playing in my head. I was in a straight bitch mood. Which kind of excuses me from my behavior when Dingleberry hits on me again.

This time I can’t remember what he said exactly. I do remember he smelled like beer, pork rinds, and body odor. I just brushed past him, saying, “I’m married, but I’m only attracted to turtles anyway so you will never have a chance.”

I was such a bitch.

Take 4

The next day. I was back and I felt bad. I also felt disgusted. This guy was starting to get on my nerves. I told him I was married, but he didn’t care. I didn’t go to the gas station to get harassed.

I walked in and got my coffee. I stood in a small line waiting my turn to check out. I checked out.

Looking around, I didn’t see him, hear him, or smell him. Growing concerned, I looked around and left.


I have been back for thirteen days straight trying to find this drunk lunatic. I would like to tell him he doesn’t have a chance with me. I would also like to slap him for making me worry. Where is he? Is he okay? Is he thinking about me?


Posted in Humor, Life

Amazing Tested Responses For Rejecting Dumb Pick Up Lines

When a simple no will not suffice

A man flicks the bird to a woman rejecting his advances.
Unsplash

I like the smell of the autumn air, the taste of wine, the sound of a baby laughing, and the sight of a douchebag getting put in his place. Don’t get me wrong. I am not a mean or evil person. But, as someone with a vagina, I get tired of unsolicited advances. I won’t lie about taking some pleasure in rejecting the unwanted pick up lines and attempts with the following amazing responses.

I do not send one signal out that I am interested in being picked up or even that I know how to smile. And, yet, the creepiest creepers this side of the Mason Dixon line will find me like a beacon in the night. My messenger is ridiculous with the amount of unsolicited creeps that fill it up constantly.

I also enjoy savagely rejecting men or women who try to pick me up with ridiculous pick up lines. I call them my anti-pick up lines. I’ve learned a few of them from other people, some online, and others are complete originals created on the spot by yours truly.

Take the following scenarios and make them work according to your actual situation.


Him: Can I buy you a drink?

Me: I’d rather just have the cash.

Him: Do you come here often?

Me: Yes. I’ve been waiting for the man of my dreams to come to me and now you’re here. Let me grab my six kids out of my van and we will go back to my place.

Him: Do you want to come to my place Saturday?

Me: Sorry. My explosive diarrhea is happening on Saturday.

Him: Can I get your digits? (This is slang for asking for your phone number)

Me: Sure (give him local STD clinic phone number)

Him: He texts you a picture of his penis,otherwise known as a d**k pic.

Me: Why are you sending me pictures of little boy’s penises?! I am calling the police, you are a disgusting perv!

Him: It’s 2020. Don’t be afraid to ask me out.

Me: Okay. Would you do me the honor of exiting the building as quickly as possible?


I hope these responses will help you as much as they have helped me. There is something liberating about turning the tables on unwanted and dumb advances. Maybe if we take a stand, we can actually bring back manners. Or at least a class on clear signs that someone is open to advances. Or, if I”m completely delusional, maybe we can start a new trend with romantic undertones instead of creepy ones.


Posted in Career, Humor, Life

How To Know You’re Successful

The Subtle Signs Of Success

Yellow mustard or Dijon? I think you know the answer to that question

Success is a stalker. He eases up behind you without any notice if you’re not paying attention. And you won’t be paying attention because, to gain success, you’ll be hard at work.

Sometimes, we are so hard at work we don’t notice the signs of success starting to surround us. I am here to bring awareness to those signs as they show up, as subtle as they may be.

Money

The first sign of success will be that you have money in your account instead of zero or negative. You may even have CASH in your wallet. This is often the most blatant sign and is usually pretty clear. But I am not immune to the fact that some of my readers are not very smart. I’m doing what I can to spell out even this very big, blatant sign of success for you.

Sugar

Shortly after starting to succeed, you will notice a change in your sugar. Suddenly, loose sugar just doesn’t cut it anymore. You will only take your sugar in cubes. This does make baking hard, I won’t lie. You might even find yourself shopping for a crystal bowl to store your cubes

Taste Buds

You will no longer taste things the same once you experience success. Yellow mustard won’t cut it anymore. You will have to have a Dijon blend. You sure as hell won’t eat catfish anymore. It will only be a bland white fish. Your water will have to be sparkling. You will find a ding-dong, either kind, at the gas station, disgusting.

You will actually get offended when people offer you the condiments of the peasants. Try to keep that reigned in. Nobody likes an asshole, successful or not.

Pronunciation

I’m sure by now you’ve already guessed that when you become successful you will start pronouncing things differently. The first thing is you will call a vase a vaz. You will sound classy as f**k.

A potato will be pronounced a potah-toe.

Target will be Tarjay.

Don’t fight it. You’ll only end up looking foolish.

Clothing

You will always look like you are going sailing. It doesn’t matter where you live or what you are actually going to do. It will always look like you are going sailing.


I hope these tips help you as much as they have not helped me. Since, I’m not successful. Obviously.

Posted in Humor, Ideas, Life

5 Simple Ways To Gain Massive Street Cred

I might not look like it, but gangsta is used often to describe me

I work on the south side of my town. Much like other towns, some of the areas are not the best on the “south side.” Some are considered dangerous. I’ve never had any problems.

In fact, I enjoy the people here so much better than on the ritzy side of town. I have broken down on the side of the road and had more than three people rush to help me.

I do avoid nefarious situations, though. For instance, I don’t hang out in dark alleys. I also hate smiling. That tends to keep most people away.

Teardrop tat

I don’t know that I’ve actually ever met anybody in a gang. But I’m going to go ahead and say, “Yes, I have.”

That means, I have street cred which is short for street credibility. That means I have been validated as someone raised on the streets by others of the same description. Basically, I’m in a club by initiation.

I don’t have a teardrop tattoo yet because I have not ever killed anybody and I don’t plan on it. So instead, I will get eyeliner tattooed on.

In the meantime, I just wear a butt-load of eyeliner. Sometimes, I’ll draw tears on with a sharpie to increase my standing in the gangster community.

Sagging my slacks

I actually have a professional job so I can’t sag my jeans. So I have to sag my slacks. The effect is not the same when you’re wearing a skirt, just so you know. And it’s impossible with a dress.

Image for post
Photo by Andrew Le on Unsplash

Bitch Slap

I don’t fight. I’m too physically fragile for all of that nonsense. But I will throw out a good bitch slap when needed.

I also have a taser and I’m not afraid to use it. But, I have never used it. I also have a gun I’ve never used as well.

But, as I mentioned earlier, I’ve actually had no problems on the horrible side of town that I work on.

A gang is a club

I’m in a club, much like a gang member, except we help the community and try not to shoot people. We discuss current events. Otherwise known as gossip.

We like to read, so some might call us a book club. Regardless, two are in menopause, one has grandchildren, and three have kids under age ten at home.

Gangster is subjective. We are women. We are moms. We will f**k up anyone from any street.


Posted in Humor, Life, satire

My Life: The Musical

My Life The Musical
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The Greatest Showman came uncomfortably close to replacing the Grease soundtrack as my favorite musical soundtrack.

Grease had been the only musical I had ever loved for as far back as I could remember. After being forced to go watch The Greatest Showman, I ran out and bought the first CD I had bought in over five years. Then, I went back to watch the movie again. It happened that quickly and I was addicted.

One night after my fifth viewing of the movie, feeling good, I decided to jot down what would be the soundtrack to my life.

Dancers
Unsplash

I have written the playlist here for your amusement and/or sympathy. I hope at least one would be performed by Hugh Jackman because, let’s face it, who knew he could sing like that. But, I’m not one to be unrealistic, so I have added other singers as well.

What The F*&k Is This? Song performed by Hugh Jackman with confused and erratic dancing by Sunny Heights Retirement Village

That Escalated Quickly! Song performed by Will Ferrell with John O’Reilly on drums.

It’s Not Me, It’s You – performed by Justin Bieber dressed in his famous denim/ramen combo. The song covers years 16 through 23.

I Got This! I Don’t Need Child Support— sung to a beautiful gospel hymn, the head matriarch of the Duggar family leads the song in this one.

Somebody Hold Me Back! — As performed by Mike Tyson. Some of it is kind of hard to understand, but that runs along with the theme of my life perfectly.

Things Have To Get Better— performed by the rapper known as Ludacris

Things Have To Get Better (volumes two through ten)many rappers from Eminem to R. Kelly but not the prism version.

Why Does God Pick On Me? — Performed by Morgan Freeman


Now, that I have written down my soundtrack, I only have to write the songs, get the talent, and record the album. Piece of cake.

I hope that one day I will be able to put my life story on the silver screen for the public’s consumption and enjoyment. I know it will be a while because we don’t have the capabilities to use special effects to that level of difficulty. And I’m not sure that the public is ready for a tragedy of that nature at this point. Also, whoever played me might get depressed and would definitely get injured on a near constant basis.

Keep your eyes on me, though. One day you might know my name for me, aka this Kylie), instead of a makeup Queen related to someone that hasn’t done anything but make a sex tape.


Posted in Humor, Life, satire

The Mansplanation

Mansplaining
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I once asked if water had calories in it. I am not proud of this moment. I was sixteen, but my obvious confusion by the laughter, cleared up immediately once Randy explained it to me. I knew that would happen. I only seem to be able to understand the logistics of something when a man is kind enough to mansplain it. My favorite thing is when they explain the workings of the female reproductive system.

A mansplanation is much like an explanation, but done so in a manner that is easier to understand for us women. You know, because our brains don’t work like men’s do.

One time, I was at the gas station standing there completely flabbergasted about what kind of snack I wanted to eat. Then a helpful gentleman moseyed up behind me, grabbed my hips and said, “Excuse me, little lady. I’m just trying to help you when I tell you that you probably don’t need any chocolate or a cookie. There are bananas for sale upfront at $.89 each.” He winked at me and walked away. So, that is when I got my first felony.

Thousands of mansplanations later, I am a Property Manager of over 185 rental properties which includes having to oversee many different vendors and contractors. Many of which whom are older and maler than I am. Some have no problem getting direction from a woman, but others feel the need to try to argue with me and mansplain everything.

I’ve had them mansplain the way air filters work and where they go, how to reset a garbage disposal, and how to find the cheapest tampons. Yes, they know everything. There is literally no need for us to learn anything.

But without the mansplanation, how would I have learned how to put air in my tires? How would I have learned the price per pound of groceries?

I hope one day to teach my own sons the art of mansplaining. I realize I am not a man, but I’ve experienced it enough to teach it, I believe. I’m sure a man will correct me if I’m wrong in this opinion.

Maybe once society gets this under their belt, we can work on the womansplanation. I’m imagining it to make a lot more sense and to include a lot more logic instead of, “Because I said so.” It might even include graphs and references.