We've been infiltrated...

Goddamn you red wine.

Seriously, to all the ladies out there reading this, stop dating bumbling 20-somethings and find yourself a nice, older dude.

I know I have waxed-poetic on this topic before, but ladies, I have gone out into the field, done the research, and 30-somethings are where it's at.

Sure, they're still dudes (read: oblivious) but with more practice at the game, less bumbling, more smooth. More comfortable in their sexuality. Forget the stupid dance, pretending to be shy and reserved. You'll be wined. You'll be dined. And at the end of the night... well... they tend not to disappoint.

Unfortunately for me, however, a perfect night was cut frustratingly short.

Hence, the blogging.

Now turn the lights down low, cause it's about to get romantic...





P.S. It's ridiculously easy to snag an older dude. Private message me for my 10-step no-fail program.Oh, but ya gotta be pretty.Big tits don't hurt, either.

Challenge, accepted...

Things I did this weekend:

1. Saved a child's life
2. Had a near, near-death experience
3. Snuck a boy home

A man walks into a bar...

And I'm like.. instantly attracted to him.

Not, like, love at first sight. I'm not about to get all mushy on you, folks.

He just walks into the bar... and instantly... BAM.

He looks like {this}

From then on, I realized my night could not be complete without kissing him.

Tears of a clown...

Well folks. It's finally happened. It hit me
Muthafuckin virus.
Irish and I tried to troubleshoot, but to no avail.
Currently blogging via dad's iPod touch.
Fuck. I love you Internet. I promise we will never fight again...

It might also be fun to be a madam for a day...

Did I ever tell you about the time I was a stellar wing-man? Oh yes, not a wing-woman (I can barely snag a man for myself, let alone a friend.)

But no. I wing-manned for Buddy, he got both her phone number and a lusty makeout session.

Now Buddy is asking me "first date advice". I'm playing Cyrano de Bergerac.

And it is fucked being on the other side of the fence. I've got this chick eating out of Buddy's hand.
And ya, maybe he does like her and his intentions are half-way honourable.

But it's all a fucking game.

What happened to good ol' fashioned honesty?

I'm a terrible speller.

Do you ever listen to Dr. Drew? Specifically, Love Line With Dr. Drew?

You may be familiar with Dr. Drew of celebrity rehab fame. But take away the B-list (C-list and D-list) celebrity drama, and you've got one heckuva radio call-in show. People, from across North America call in with their problems with love, sex, relationships, drugs, alcohol and everything in between. It's sometimes *fucked* up, always entertaining, and you always walk away a little wiser, a little more insightful, after a show.

I don't catch it very often. (Sunday through Thursday, 11 p.m. to 1 a.m. on Edge 102.1. Ya, I listen to The Edge, on occasion. Sometimes a girl needs a break from Zoomer Radio, OK?)

*Sidebar* notice the differences between the Edge site versus Zoomer? Please write a comparative essay detailing a minimum of three (3) ways the sites differ. What demographic do you think each of the sites is trying to reach? Explain, siting a minimum of three (3) examples. Why do you think a 25 year-old chick would prefer Zoomer over The Edge? Feel free to speculate.

And for tomorrow's show? Kevin Smith will be guest hosting. Yes, of Clerks fame. (and not much of late. Also, fuck you, Chasing Amy)
So the only logical question remaining, is, what question would I ask Kevin Smith and Dr. Drew about sex and relationships.

(Yes, I am totally the type to call into a radio call-in show. Hi, this is Veronica from Scarborough, first time caller, long time listener)

But first, musical interlude...

The fable of a drunk chic and a good time....

OK, let's break it down here. The reasons why I haven't been posting.

1. I'm sad and lonely
2. Nothing interesting happens
3. When interesting things happen, they usually involve unbloggable unmentionables
4. Weather. Depression
5. Sitting in a chair staring at a screen ALL day

But I guess it all began... Tuesday night.... at the concert....

Naw, not going to get into that yet (although, I am sufficiently tipsy enough for that). But Tuesday night, was such a perfect night of randomness, shenanigans and safety. It really reminded me... of what can happen.... when you say..... YES!! to everything.

And then, tonight.....

What a sensible choice.

But, I have a confession...

Choose your own adventure...

Sometimes, you just have a killer night.

And, well, sometimes killer nights just can't be shared on ones blog.

But this glass of red wine is urging me to spin a yarn. But, you'll have to fill in some of the blanks for yourself.

I don't get to see boys very often.

I'm lucky to have 6 cute boys in a room. Very lucky. And my journalism job is Monday to Fridsy, 9 to 5. Do you realize what kind of boys I see all day.

This is the only remotely cute one. (Mmm... mmm... i love red wine)

And at my retail job? I sell high-waisted pants to older ladies. *whispers* we don't get many cute boys!

And you would think, that for a recovering boyoholic, this would be an ideal situation.

Au contraire, I need boys. When you take me away from the boys I start considering guys like this, because that's litearally all to consider.

Otherwise, there's cute boys here and there in Uxbridge, but I never see them, ever again. It really is depressing. I do have my fill of society ladies and men-over-45 (a considerably less sexy category) in my day to day life.

And as a recovering boyoholic, the absolute worst thing you can do to me, is put me in a room with hot boys. Oh fuck, last night was a visual orgy of hot guys.