5 Things About Women That May Surprise Me

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Women. You know the type. Walking into rooms, and then out of rooms. Saying things. Doing stuff. If one has short hair and you see her quickly in your peripheral vision, you might think she’s a man. But she isn’t. She’s a woman. You know?

Who are these strange creatures with their wider hips and functional nipples? What are they thinking as they sit across from you at the dinner table, their lips moving, making sounds. Do they have likes? Dislikes? Neutral feelings? What, for God’s sake, do they want?

1) Shiny objects

Women are like infants and cats. Not just because they cry and have claws, but also because they are distracted by things that sparkle. That’s why the trophy to mark their greatest achievement is a diamond ring.

Although, alternative engagement rings are beginning to trend: non-diamond, plain bands, and even finger tattoos. So maybe that ring theory has some holes in it. (Ha!) Plus, some women are shying away from marriage altogether. It’s like they don’t remember they come from male rib, and therefore belong tucked away beneath a guy’s arm.

2) Romance

The best way for a man to cover up his indiscretions is with romance. I don’t mean love or respect. Romance. I’m talking gooey Hallmark sentiment: flowers, chocolates, stuffed bears, and poems that definitively state what color certain flowers are. You may not read it in your high school biology book, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t science. Know this: women can’t resist a good wooing.

Although, I happen to be a woman (if I’m not, my gynecologist is really ripping me off), and sugar-sweet romance makes me uncomfortable. In fact, I tried to convince my husband to seal our wedding vows with our secret handshake rather than a kiss. So I guess all women don’t like romance after all.

3) Saving

If 90′s Disney taught us anything, it’s that damsels in distress are real (and that meerkats and warthogs make fast friends). Whether it’s killing a spider, reaching for that soup can that’s just too high, or reviving your gal from her glass box sleep, ladies love, and maybe even need, to be rescued.

Although, I suppose female police officers, soldiers, firefighters, doctors, etc. would argue they don’t want saving, they want to save. Damn it, why can’t women just all be the same??

4) Babies

Feet that fit into your mouth. Tiny itty bitty yawns. Cries that begin as these cute little goat bleats, and then continue on and on, expanding and sharpening as their vocal chords strengthen, screams filling your ears and drilling into your brain all night long, constant, ear piercing noise blaring and blaring until you can’t remember what silence feels like and you think you’re going insane.

5) Ice cream

….

 

Okay, yes. We definitely want ice cream.

iGirlfriend

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In honor of National Poetry Month’s close:

iGirlfriend

Slim. Smart.
All you need.
Hold me beneath the dinner table.
Caress me on the train,
in a pew.
i whisper in your ear,
shimmy into your pocket,
and vibrate.
Push my buttons.
Drop.
Recharge.
i light up your face.
No birthday presents,
anniversaries,
or mother in laws.
No Whys?
Whens?
How could yous?
i speak when spoken to.
No, don’t look up.
Look at me.
i take you anywhere.
You take me everywhere.
How did you live without me?
Shhh.
Don’t try to remember.

The Lonely Broken Road That Led You Straight To Me

Google-search

I’ve surpassed 2,000 followers. That’s like the population of a Manhattan apartment building! And judging by the search engine terms that brought you to my site, you guys are even edgier and more eclectic. Here are the strangest of the search terms, excluding the ones that are too strange (disturbing) to publicize. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.

Mouth pedicure slave: I think the phrase you’re searching for, sir, is dental hygienist.

Guy doing pedicures + slave: Now, is the guy ALSO a slave, or do you want a male to do your pedicure BESIDE your slave? Weirdo.

Stripper body odor: You’re into some strange stuff.

Adult bathing in a bucket: REALLY strange stuff.

Sexy elephant: REALLY, REALLY strange stuff.

Female without clothing: What an articulate and precise way to search for porn.

Order strippers to the Waldorf Astoria: Sounds like one classy bachelor party. Hopefully you figured out the whole stripper body odor dilemma.

What to do with my beauty: I suggest you use it for good, not for evil.

I knew I shouldn’t have shown off on the dance floor: Why?? What happened???

How to be fat and look good in a one-piece: I might be able to help you figure out the first part. The solution to the second part still eludes me.

Pee in the ocean today?: Eh, I don’t feel like it today. Maybe tomorrow.

Abandoned Warehouse: Hopefully you’re a contractor searching for a place to renovate into lofts, and not a serial killer looking for a place to dump bodies.

If buying a vibrator from Groupon, will it be in discrete packaging: Groupon will be discrete. I will not. You are outed, you fiscal pleasure seeker!

Count Munch and the Wicked Witch: What the hell kind of fairytales are you reading, and where can we find them?

Terrifying feathered dinosaurs: Yes! “Bird” is a euphemism. This is accurate.

Celebrities doing chores: I, too, would like to see this.

No pants subway ride tighty whities: Sounds like you were ready for some interesting images. I fear I disappointed you.

Authentic brawd: I’m flattered that I was the result of this search term. So flattered, maybe it’ll be the title of my next book!

_________________________________________

For you longtime followers, allow me to draw your attention to an added tab on the site: my Merchandise Shop! Here you’ll find T’s and mugs with quotes from my book. If you have a quote you’d like made into an item, feel free to submit a request!

Finding Myself On Buzzfeed

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We’ve learned so much in 2014. We learned that Russia has a city that sounds like the name of a blonde telepathic waitress and vampire lover. We learned that Patrick Stewart is gay, and then we learned he isn’t. We learned that Ron and Hermione need marriage counseling, and we’re heartbroken about it. We learned that Alec Baldwin has feelings too. But most importantly, we’ve learned about ourselves.

Take me, for example. Before 2014, I never knew I should live in West Virginia, or that if I were reincarnated as a dog, I’d be a Corgi. I never knew if I fell asleep and woke up in King’s Landing, it would be as Arya Stark. These are critical, life-altering lessons that deserve to be shared with my 508 Facebook friends, both so that they can see me for who I truly am, and so they have the opportunity to become acquainted with themselves for the very first time. The shadowy corners of my identity that before were dark, are now lit with blinding fluorescent bulbs.

Remember back when there was no clear way to determine which member of Destiny’s Child you are? (I might have Beyonce’s booty, but I have Kelly’s quiet sparkle. So, who am I? Keyonce? Belly??) Remember when you spent hours wracking your brain over which European city you should live in? When you wondered which Thanksgiving fixing best represents the essence of you? (Cranberry sauce?? Am I cranberry sauce??) Remember when nobody could tell if you most closely resemble Monica, Rachel, Phoebe, Ross, Chandler, Joey or–god forbid– Gunther?

Maybe you don’t remember. Maybe you’ve repressed the chilling realities of before Buzzfeed. Allow me to reminisce. Before, when we were met with existential questions like, “What Muppet are you?”, we couldn’t simply choose a song, a facial expression, a board game, a pizza topping, a baby’s face, and click! Answer: You’re Animal. And all doubts were quelled. No, we struggled. We conducted surveys. We receded into the desert for 40 days and 40 nights. We fasted. We meditated. We climbed mountains and sought counsel with monks. It was the only choice we had. Do you think Gandhi knew which Charlie Chaplin character he was? No. He could wager a guess, ask his friends, but he’d never know for sure. You could never know for sure.

But now we know. All Buzzfeed needs are a few significant bits of information– your favorite movie, fast food joint, word, color, and weekend activity– and it can see through the screen and into your heart. It takes your uncertainty into its omniscient arms and whispers: Don’t worry, you’d win the Hunger Games.

The difficulties of self-discovery are over. You find yourself on Buzzfeed.

Now that I am equipped with this new insight, I can more accurately and more confidently enter into situations. I know that since I’m a Corgi, I couldn’t take a German Shepherd on my own, but would be fine with the help of my direwolf, although things are awkward with him since the pet I should REALLY have is a monkey, which might be a problem since I should be moving to London to be an athlete. But who am I to question the great all-powerful Buzzfeed? I’m going to be an athlete!

Here I come, Sookie!

Alena Dillon is the author of the humor collection I Thought We Agreed to Pee in the Ocean.

Satirical Commercial for Drug Now Known As Flaccidone

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Erectile dysfunction is no joke. The commercials for its treatment, however, are:

You’ve reached the age when you know a thing or two. You know how to be a silver fox. Just look at you. You’re wearing a fleece, so it must be chilly out, yet somehow your skin is tanned. And your pearly white teeth match your hair. Was that intentional? It doesn’t matter—it works. You know how to stare off at the horizon, and look damn good doing it. You know how to stand in front of the Washington Monument, and now the Eiffel Tower, and now the Space Needle, and now the Old Faithful Geyser. You, obviously, know how to travel fast. You know how to wield a variety of power tools: drill, grinder, and that buzzing chainsaw. You know how to hold that baseball bat by your waist. What you don’t know, is how to get an erection.

Is it because your wife doesn’t look like she used to? Or is she just not trying anymore? Is your own biology to blame? Hard to say. What isn’t hard, is you.

Flaccidone is here to help. It’ll help you rise above Mount O-limp-us. It’ll help your Willy Wonk her. It’ll give your floppy some drive.

Five out of six doctors deny ever needing to take Flaccidone, but that’s because two out of six doctors are women, two out of six doctors are below the age of fifty, and one out of six doctors are liars.

Do not take Flaccidone if you take any other medication or if you expect you might have surgery in the next decade. Do not take Flaccidone if you’ve ever had a headache. Do not take Flaccidone if you are over the age of 85, because that’s just gross, or if you were born during any month with fewer than 31 days. Do not take it if you didn’t get at least seven hours of restful sleep the night before.

If your erection persists for more than four hours, my god, roll over and seek medical attention. But three and a half hours is normal. If one of your fantasies includes lasting through the entirety of James Cameron’s Titanic, this is good news for you (bad news for her). But if you have errands to run, you might find yourself between a rock and your hard place.

Common side effects include nausea, loss of vision, fatigue, heart attack, flatulence, breast growth, divorce, Benjamin Button syndrome, pant ripping, creepiness, and death—but you’re old and probably about to die anyway. Could there be a better way to go?

(Flaccidone is endorsed by Shawn Konnery, Jack Nickelson, Bobby Dinero, and, obviously, Clint Westwood.)

Valentine’s Day Book Giveaway!

This Valentine’s Day, cupid will load his bow with a signed copy of I Thought We Agreed to Pee in the Ocean and aim it at some lucky reader out there.

3D-layout1The humor collection was called, “Fiercely entertaining. A fun and funny read with heart and smarts,” by author Regina Barreca, and, “As funny as a joke you’re hearing for the second time,” by my mom.

How can you get yourself into that naked baby’s scope? Just follow these steps:

1) Share this Amazon link on your blog, Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn, Tumblr, Pinterest, or Instagram.

2) Comment on this post with how many places you shared, and I’ll submit you into the drawing with that many entries. (If you’ve read the book, review it on Amazon/Goodreads for additional entries!)

3) On noon on Valentine’s Day (this Friday, for you forgetful boyfriends out there) I’ll contact the winner for his/her address.

So, who want’s to be my Valentine??

…..

Anyone?

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The 10 Best Valentine’s Day Ideas To Lower Expectations For Next Year

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Have you found the one? Or at least the one for now? Then you must recognize your worst enemy this Valentine’s Day: Hope.

Hope is that glimmer in your girl’s eye when she sees a deliveryman appear in her office doorway with two dozen long stemmed roses and for a second thinks they could be for her, when really they’re for her coworker—the coworker whose fiancé hid a pearl engagement ring inside an actual oyster and proposed to her while they were scuba diving (when she accepted, her entire family floated up from behind a nearby coral reef). Hope is when a package arrives on the morning of February 14th and instead of finding that scarf whose website page she emailed you, and then printed out and taped to the fridge, she opens the next razor in your Dollar Shave Club subscription. Hope is the Spring in her step. But on February 15th, you’ll know Winter is coming.

Maybe you’re planning a little something. But know this: Russell Stover will only show your sweetie that life is like a box of chocolates—sometimes you pay more for something than it’s actually worth. Instead of letting her endure years of lackluster romantic gestures—the generic card, candy hearts, or yet another stuffed teddy bear—don’t gesture at all. Cross your arms over your chest. Stomp your foot from the start—all over her dreams.

If you are with someone you even remotely suspect you might still be with next Valentine’s Day, go ahead and arrange a bad date. Hurt her feelings. Maybe even outright insult her. The prudent Romeo plans ahead so that next year, the love of your life will anticipate nothing, and therefore won’t be disappointed.

Here are some awful Valentine’s Day ideas to inspire you:

1)     Sit down with a lawyer to prepare your living wills.  Till death do you part? Maybe sooner rather than later.

2)     Drill her expectations into submission with a couple’s dentist appointment.

3)     Go see 47 Ronin. It has a startlingly low Rotten Tomatoes rating—even for a Keanu Reeves movie.

4)     Swap gifts with the requirement that they have to be items found in your junk drawer.

5)     Over a glass of box wine, stare into each other’s eyes and share your best Valentine’s Day experience shared with a former partner.

6)     Light some candles and listen to Kevin Federline’s greatest hits. Perk: They’re all on one album. Because he only had one album.

7)     Present her with a slew of whatever scares her so that she may overcome her fears. Snakes? Ravens? Guns? The latter would be especially handy because you’d get to use the expression, “Stare down the barrel of a gun” literally, for what will most likely be the only time in your life—because you might spend the rest of it in jail.

8)     Slap a bow on your neighbor’s Mercedes and tell your girlfriend it’s your gift to her. Let her believe it for at least thirty minutes.

9)     Take in all of her pant waist’s by about one inch.

10)   Plan a beautiful evening—for your mother.

Despite what Hallmark and Patrick Dempsey movies would have us believe, Valentine’s Day is an inorganic, saccharine holiday that only sets us up for failure. So, if you’re going to fail anyway, why not fail like a champ?