Breaking the Booger Barrier

By Tonia

“If you were a booger, I’d pick you.”

I recently went hiking with one of my dates. He’s quite athletic so I was trying to impress him with what great shape I’m in. Fortunately he stayed in the lead so he didn’t see me sweating, panting, grabbing at trees and gasping for air. When we finally reached the top of the mountain (felt like we’d gone up fucking Mt. Everest), we sat to enjoy the view. It could have been so romantic. Could have been. Instead, he slowly turned to me and said, “You have a booger on your lip.”

Holy shit. Just when I thought I could turn all that sweat into a sexy glow, my nasal cavity sends out a roly-poly wonder that clings to my face. Bringsa whole new meaning to “Hello, Sugar Booger” and “Don’t be snotty.” Sexpot FAIL.

It’s not that I have anything against boogers, mind you. I actually tease my grandchildren about wanting their boogers as keepsakes.  When my grandson was three, he once asked Rachel (my daughter), “Why does your mother like boogers so much?” She was speechless (a rarity).

It’s just that I had hoped that boogers wouldn’t be a part of my dating life. But I guess in the evolution of relationships we have to break the booger barrier sometime – not unlike other relationship barriers (see YouTube’s Breaking the Barrier - click HERE).

And, on the bright side, at least he didn’t see me picking my nose.  There are people with that obsession, you know. Its called Rhinotillexomania. Rhino = “nose,” tillexis = “habit of picking,” and mania = “excessive enthusiasm.” Put it all together and you get one enthusiastic nose picker!

So I want to know - why isn’t it illegal to pick your nose while driving? It’s just as dangerous as texting because everyone looks at the finger when the booger picking mission is accomplished. Hello! D.A.N.G.E.R.O.U.S.

Well, this blog is a bit hard to turn into a girlfriends’ party game suggestion, but here is a green drink recipe that we’re calling the Booger Barrier. Enjoy!

 

Booger Barrier

2 oz. Pinot Grigio

4 cucumber chunks

5 mint leaves

¾ oz. lime juice

¾ oz. simple syrup

1 oz. soda water

Garnish: use mint sprigs, cucumber slices, raspberries, whatever you think looks good!

In a shaker, muddle cucumber and mint leaves. Then fill with ice and add lime juice, simple syrup, and wine. Shake, shake, shake. Strain into a glass filled with ice and garnish.

Doggone It!

by Tonia

"I've been on so many blind dates, I should get a free dog." - Wendy Liebman

I have a dog named Remington. He’s a mongrel that adopted me when I innocently visited an animal shelter. And, despite the fact that he walks around the house shedding like a chemo patient and chewing the crotches out of my panties (NOT in a sexy way!), he’s a pretty good companion. He doesn’t watch sports on TV all day and he looks me in the eyes when I talk to him!

AND he wants to be with me all the time. Hell, I can’t even go to the bathroom without him. This has made me very self-conscious about the way I pee and wipe. Am I doing it right? Is my stream strong enough? Should my wiping stroke be different? Am I remembering to go front-to-back? Is one swipe enough? Geez.

He even sleeps with me and hogs the pillow. If I do manage to escape into another room for ten seconds without him he’s as excited to see me as if I’d been gone six months. I bet if I locked Remington and my adult children in crates and came back an hour later, he’d be the only one happy to see me!

Besides the shedding and panty crotch obsession (often leaving my underwear with only a front and back flap – kinda’ like what the Indians wore in those old western movies), he tries to please me and is very transparent about his activities ….. unlike my friend’s dog .....

My friend lives alone with his dog. Each morning he makes his bed and each evening he returns to it completely unmade. It was quite a mystery until he figured out that the dog was having bitches over during the day and getting a little action. Quite the Dog Juan!

But I digress. Recently I took Remington with me on a road trip to Santa Fe. He was actually a very good traveler – was ready to leave on time; didn’t whine that he was bored; and didn’t bitch at me if I took a wrong turn. A perfect travel companion!

And since we’ve been here we’ve been doing lots of hiking. He loves it. He runs ahead of me on the trail – and then looks back at me to make sure I haven’t passed out. Now that’s love! I just need to train him to watch out for me at the bars now! And to drive me home…..

So, for your next girlfriends’ get together, have a DOGGONE IT party (“Doggone it,” by the way, originated as a euphemism for “goddamn it”). Plan a fundraiser for your local shelter. Serve Salty Dog Cocktails or decorate cupcakes to look like puppies. Some great tips for animal shelter fundraising HERE. Let us know how it goes!

The Long and UNwinding Road

by Tonia

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” – Mark Twain

Each summer I drive from Tulsa, OK to Santa Fe, NM so I can spend my summers away from Sweat-My-Boobs-Off Land. This year I drove my badass Prius and took the dog. Unfortunately, I gave no thought to my traveling attire - wore white pants and a black top. The pants ended up as a record of every drink and snack I had along the way and the shirt was a high-powered dog hair magnet. By the end of the trip I looked like a hang-over buffet on the top (hair of the dog) and a food smorgasbord on the bottom. I guess if the crumb fits, wear it!

The dog is a happy pup that loves to go anywhere. I really should have gotten him goggles and a scarf for his traveling attire. Never once did he ask me if we were there yet.

The trip is about 9.5 hours of straight driving. This year I took a different route to avoid the putrid smelling cattle yards on I40 at Wildorado, TX. You can’t imagine the stench. HOLY COW. Well, not really holy. Smelled more like Satan’s outhouse after a curry orgy. Rolling up the windows and turning off the A/C doesn’t help either – you’d have to hold your breath for 10 miles – which is greatly discouraged by the Texas Highway Patrol.

Instead, I took the northern route through Guymon, OK, where the largest PORK processing plant is. I definitely squealed when I met the biggest cock I'd ever put my arms around (or any other part of my anatomy, for that matter).

But the drive was still boring. I especially hated those areas without cell phone/internet connection. Couldn’t comment on Facebook or play Words with Friends!! So I ended up just counting telephone poles and flashing truck drivers.

And, when I couldn't entertain myself in those ways, the road just became hypnotic. Center line after center line after center line. Sleepy, sleepy, sleepy. Watching that line and listening to Lady Gaga’s Bad Romance over and over again. Now I can't quit thinking about giving up my career in academia and becoming a sex slave. Does anyone know how to undo hypnotic suggestion?

And, so for a girlfriend get-together, take a road trip! Just hop in the car and take off for someplace. Tie a bra to your antenna, stick your heads out the windows, sing at the top of your lungs, moon the truckers and laugh yourselves senseless. Then try to remember how to get home. Happy travels!