Mommysniteout's Blog

This might be a bit crass, but this idea came to me during a conversation with the ex. He made a snarky comment about my upcoming kid-free weekend, and suggested I  should spin my “wheel of men” to see which male playmate I can spend my snowy weekend with…preferably one with four wheel drive.  At the time, his remark irritated me, and I was tempted to reply “I’m not sure if his Harley will make it in the snow!” But I bit my tongue…and then started to think.  Having choices is a good thing, like ordering off of a Chinese restaurant menu, there’s something for everyone and every mood. As we are Mommys here, we are all familiar with the kids’ favorite online pastime, Webkinz…and their favorite game of the day, the Wheel of Wow, where you spin the wheel to win a special surprise of the day.  Well, we’re all grown up and winning Kinzcash or a Pink Blender for our Webkinz turtle doesn’t really hold appeal for us. 

However there is a more adult variation of this game that we can play. As women we have LOTS of needs of various types, many of which involve men.  All types of men, each one offers a different ability to address these needs. We have yet to come across that rare breed that possesses all that we need in one fine package, but that hasn’t stopped us from searching.  So as you spin that wheel in search of something to whet your appetite….just keep all of this in mind:

- The Woo Factor: This guy knows how to charm. Knows what to say. He’s handsome, confident, intelligent, financially independent. He’ll take you to a play, or your favorite restaurant, or even the opera…maybe even sweep you off on an impromptu trip to an island resort, he’s got it going on. We may not be talking rose petals on the sheets, but this guy knows how to make you feel like you’re the only woman alive. Now there is a chance he may be a bit of a manwhore, but that’s ok, as you know we take kindly to whores, of the male and female variety…so we will not hold that against him.

- Mr. Details: This one is a puzzle. He asks LOTS of questions.  Him “Snow is coming, it sucks. Do you have rock salt & a shovel?” What a turn- on, right?  But among the angst and whining, and the endless series of irritating questions..there are some very good qualities we can’t overlook. There’s something to be said about a man who’s detail oriented, as his attention to detail carries into the bedroom, and he won’t stop until he is assured the task at hand is complete, and he’s VERY thorough…that is a quality MUCH appreciated by the Mommys.

- The Pal:  This is the guy who wants to go for a jog or walk your dogs together, hang out and watch TV…may all sound a bit dull, but this is also the guy who would love to mow your lawn (the lawn outside, with green grass,  you filthy minded people!!), take out your garbage, even assist you with light maintenance around the house…and he loves it, likes feeling needed and appreciated, and we very much enjoy finding ways to express our appreciation.

- Hot, Sexy, Dirty Boy:   A very tasty item on the menu, oozing hotness from every pore, deep smoldering eyes, tattoos and piercings (yes  that was plural!!)  all over his muscular toned body, and he loves to talk dirty, and does it sooo well…texts, messages, and pictures from him are sure to warm you up in the midst of all this frigid weather…and if you can find one that happens to be of the spicy Latin variety, even better!  Ups the delicious factor a few notches, yummy. More, please.

- Bad Ass Boy: He knows exactly what to do and what to say but only does so on his terms.  Very direct, but also calculated in when  & how he will play with you…this can all be a bit frustrating, as this boy likes to play games. He does have his moments, and when he does, he pulls out all the stops, riding up on his motorcycle,  shocking the neighbors by picking you up by your legs and pinning you against your front door as he kisses you frantically…makes you so crazy you forget you’re on your front porch on display, it really is quite delightful.   He’s a real favorite of the Mommys, we just can’t seem to get enough.

In summary, we’ll share a few lines from the Weather Girls’ Hit song:   “It’s raining men! hallelujah! It’s raining men, Amen!  Oh yes, I’m gonna go out, I’m gonna let myself  get absolutely soaking wet! It’s raining men – hallelujah! It’s raining men, every specimen…Tall, Blonde, Dark & Mean, Rough & Tough & Strong & and Lean! God Bless Mother Nature, She’s a single woman too….She took over Heaven, and did what she had to do…She taught every Angel to rearrange the sky…so that each and every woman could find the perfect guy!”  Now that’s what I’m talking about people.

So there I am, sitting in this lovely restaurant, across from a handsome, brilliant, successful man…blond hair,  piercing blue eyes, even a cleft in his chin…when it strikes me that I am not paying a lick of attention to what he is saying.   I have no earthly idea how or why we are on the topic he is apparently on. He’s rambling on and on and on about this 4500 square foot home he’s built, and how he has installed solar power, but he’s not convinced the pricey solar panels he installed will do what they are supposed to so he has bought multiple thermostats and placed them all about to test these panels to make sure he wasn’t ripped off by the “idiot contractor”.  Apparently he thought this discussion worthy of first date material and thought I would find it fascinating, which may be why he felt the need to talk very loudly.  The woman sitting near us casting me sympathetic glances and suppressing a giggle understood my dilemma: this guy had it all going on…until he opened his mouth.  This one apparently found himself to be quite a catch.  At least, that’s what I deduced by the amount of time he spent going on and on about himself endlessly.  The glass of wine in front of me would have turned into several if I didn’t have to drive a long way to get home after this thrilling experience.  At least that may have made him more interesting, maybe even entertaining…possibly, but doubtful.

Why am I ruminating over this, you may ask?  Here’s the thing.  I have been accused of not having any “normal” dates in recent months, apparently my “dating experiences” raise some eyebrows and cause people to look at me as if I have sprouted a third eyeball smack in the middle of my forehead.   Somehow the opportunity to have a nice dinner date in a fabulous restaurant with this supposedly ”normal” man presented itself…not really the type of date I’m into these days (I tend to stick to  somewhat seedy and dangerous illicit encounters at this point), but I figured, what the hell.  It’s not rocket science, right? It’s a date.  A nice dinner, some conversation, a drink or two. How complicated can that be?  Well, with all the talk of the  solar heating debacle,  followed by a painfully long (and again LOUD) description of how recent snow removal resulted in $20,000 worth of gravel needing to be replaced in his 9/10 of a mile long driveway…I came to this conclusion:   This date was like getting socks or underpants for Christmas, and not  the  sexy lacy variety, I do like those! You can wrap up the package in gorgeous shiny paper with a  pretty satin bow, but guess what?  Boring is boring any way you wrap it up.

So at the end of this delightful dinner, I politely declined coffee and dessert, and made it to my car hastily feeling the hives forming on my neck, and I punched this text into my phone to my GF:  “watching him yammering on and on made me wanna jab a fork in my eye purely to shake things up a bit!”  So here is where I stand on “normal” dates…No thank you. I’ll stick to my motorcycle riding, bald & shaved, tatooed, smart-ass bad boys who send me sexy and shocking texts that make me smile like a kid on Christmas morning. As far as the “dates” with these bad ass boys? I may not walk away with any additional knowledge of  the inner workings of solar power as a result of these encounters, but I have learned that I know what makes me happy.  When my body is tingling from head to toe,  and I feel like I am floating on a cloud  with a shit eating grin plastered on my face for days afterwards,  it’s a far cry from wanting to remove my eye with a cocktail fork.  So in summary, life’s too short…spend time with people who you enjoy being around…the ones who leave you feeling like you’ve been to a dental appointment are best left alone. 

This probably won’t come as a big surprise to many of our readers, but we here at mommysniteout spend an inordinate amount of our time hanging out in bars.  Being mommys, we don’t get a ton of free time.  But when we do, the bars are our absolute first choice of how to spend it.  We love the drinking and the flirting; we love the music and the dancing, and we love our booze.  We realize that most people frown on this type of behavior coming from a mommy.  We realize that most other mommys our age like to spend any free time they may have on more wholesome pursuits like jewelry parties and scrapbooking.  We realize that our behavior is irresponsible.  Selfish.  Unproductive.  I’m perfectly okay with most of those realizations.  But there’s another realization that dawned on me this week that doesn’t sit quite so well …

Going out to bars is ridiculously expensive. Alcohol may be delicious – but it sure is pricey!  Some bars charge you a cover before you even set foot inside.  Add in gas money, cab fare and cigarettes, and you’re looking at a small fortune.  And that doesn’t even take into account hidden costs, or certain *incidentals* that tend to pop up from time to time.  Take my last mommysniteout, for example.  Would you believe me if I told you my tab for this evening was over $2,500, and I didn’t even go to Vegas?

Sounds astronomical, doesn’t it?  I completely agree.  Let’s break it down:

$80.00 – Actual bar tab. The Ketel ain’t cheap y’all!  Give two mommys like us two and a half hours in a bar and this is exactly what you can expect to get in return.

$108.17 – 2.5 hours of my time. I based this figure on $90,000, which is salary.com’s estimated annual “fair wage” for a mommy.  If you think this figure sounds a little off, again I completely agree!  There’s no doubt in my mind at least that I’m worth far more than $43.27 per hour.

$10.00 – Smokes. This is probably a conservative estimate, even though you can’t smoke in most bars in the RVA right now.  I laugh in the face of your restaurant smoking ban, Virginia!  We mommys pride ourselves on things like overcoming adversity and multi-tasking, and choking down lung darts outside in the delightfully breezy Richmond winter is no exception.

$5.00 – Parking. Okay so technically, we didn’t actually put any money in that grey metal *Honor Park* box.  We meant to, of course!  But recently we seem to have developed a blatant subconscious desire for thievery.  Sorry, grey metal honor park box, it was either you or we were gonna stiff the bartenders. Again.

$1,273.00 – Vehicle property damage. Sometimes, just trying to be a responsible adult is costly!  Sometimes, you leave your car in said unpaid-for parking spot and take a taxi home, so you won’t get a DUI or kill anybody.  And sometimes, an idiot rams into your parked car with a stolen SUV.  My insurance adjuster was kind enough to provide this figure for me.

$40.00 – Taxi ride home. And I didn’t even get any hot lesbo action on this particular nite!  In fact, I fell asleep in the back of the cab. And it was only 11pm (see $80 bar tab above.)

$861.92 – Estimated future medical bills. I wasn’t in my car when it got slammed in the parking lot, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t suffer any bodily injuries!  This figure is based on the estimated first year charge for a liver transplant ($314,600) and is prorated for one night of heavy drinking.

$346.16 – Several more hours of my time, exact amount TBD. The fun’s not over yet!  For the next few weeks, I’ll be spending some quality time with insurance adjusters, car mechanics, police officers and hit-and-run detectives.  Forget about succumbing to my hormones, it looks like I’ll be spending the remainder of my January right here!!

$50.00 – Snarky comments, frosty stares and silent accusations. Actually, the cost of these from your husband,  as he surveys the damage to your car after your big girl’s nite out, is priceless!  But since we’re running numbers and I owe him $50, we’ll go with that.

FOR A GRAND TOTAL OF:   $2,774.25!

That’s one helluva a bar tab, kids.

No wonder I’m always broke.

The heavens have been smiling on mommysniteout recently!  At least one of us has been on quite the lucky streak lately and has been given many opportunities to sample some amazing delicacies from all around the world.   German … Spanish … Italian …Irish… each one more satisfying and delicious than the last.  And so after many taste tests, comparisons, and heated rounds of debate, we have reached a monumental decision:

We like Southern boys best.

That’s right, our favorite morsels come from right here in the sultry, scandalous south!  What is it about a good ol’ Southern boy that we like so much?  Well for starters, Southern boys tend to be bad boys, and for us there are very few things more appealing than this.  Bad boys sport tattoos and baseball caps and lovely ass-hugging jeans.  So delicious!!  They engage in gambling and motorcycle-riding and other illicit, eyebrow-raising, and potentially harmful activities.  So exciting!!  Bad boys also love to EMBRACE their vices, rather than trying to squelch or ignore them.  So … just like us!!   They love to drink, they love to smoke, and they love their women.

Now you might be thinking to yourself: “Sounds a lot like boys from all over the globe …  What exactly makes Southern boys so special?”  It’s ridiculously simple actually:  it’s that good old Southern hospitality.  Southern boys may be scoundrels in many ways; but their mommys raised them right, and they know how to treat a woman.  They will open your doors, they will always pick up the check, and they will even offer to text you directions if you’re a little unsure about the exact location of your next tryst.  And while these Southern boys remain gentlemanly in most aspects of their lives, that bad boy side of them likes to come out and play once you’re alone behind closed doors.  We like that. WE LIKE IT A LOT. And when you’ve got that magical combination of bad boy bravado with a certain gentle touch mixed in?  Well, lord have mercy on our souls … We are just PUTTY IN THEIR HANDS!  They have the ability turn sex into a full body contact sport, which of course is a huge plus in our books.  Bless their hearts!

Now while most of these Southern boys share some similar qualities, we’ve noticed there are a few differences as well.  And while we firmly believe that variety is the spice of life, and while we can appreciate the unique and exciting opportunities that each of them brings to the table, we of course have our favorites.  And where there are favorites, there are of course … flops.   If you will indulge us for a moment more, we’d like to break it down by age, as this seems to be one of the biggest deciding factors in determining which category these Southern morsels fall into.

Age range:  18-24

While we here at mommysniteout might appreciate the beauty and splendor of some tender under-aged morsels of meat, one thing we do NOT appreciate is incarceration.  Since the powers that be long ago declared this delicacy off-limits to ladies of our age, we’ll be steering clear of anything and anyone under the age of 18.   

Now we’ll admit that we don’t have a ton of experience in the 18-24 age range, but here is what we have observed:

#1.  You’re broke.  That’s okay, we understand, because we were broke at your age too!  Have you considered supplementing your income by pursuing a short but exciting career in thuggery?  We hear drug dealers are making a killing these days!

#2.  Some of your favorite past-times involve: grinding up against us on the dance floor, engaging in open displays of public groping, and generally proving that you really are completely incapable of handling your liquor. 

#3.  Other favorite past-times include online gaming, illegally downloading cutting-edge music, pretending you have actually experienced a threesome, talking excessively during sex, and (if you live in RVA) yelling out the windows of the big green drunk bus as you ride up and down Cary Street.

Final Verdict:  Severely under-cooked.  Raw meat may be tasty, but it’s ultimately bad for your palate. 

Age Range:  25 – 30

You’re done with school and you’re making a little money now.  Hopefully you’re taking a break from your cell phone now and again, and gaining some real-world experience in much more critical areas (read: the bedroom).  You’ve learned a bit about women and what they need and want, but you still have some ground to cover.  We don’t like being asked or expected to provide guidance or lessons during sex, or having to listen to your “sales pitch” about what a great guy you are…just do it already, and do it correctly…read below, and you’ll see what we mean.

 Final Verdict:  Still a little raw in the middle.  Okay to sample from now and then, but overindulge here and you’re bound to wind up with a tummy-ache.

Age Range:  30 – 37

Some of our favorite things from this age range include: You’ve got the ability to engage in intense, passionate, phenomenal sex…frequently!!!  Gives “get your sweaty on” a whole new meaning…leaving one smilingly satiated, hair dripping wet with sex sweat, quad muscles so sore and quivery that it makes trips up & down the stairs nearly impossible for days after.  Some seriously GOOD SHIT.  We like it a whole lot, and we thank you kindly. 

You also possess the confidence needed to just sweep us up, toss us on the bed/desk/sofa/ wherever you plan your attack…you know what we want and how we want it…and you get bonus points for not needing a single clue or direction…except maybe “Yes please!” or ”More!”  The best part is you can deliver, and are eager to show us your abilities… and maybe even teach US a trick or two!   Delicious, and again, we thank you.

 Final Verdict:  Perfectly seasoned, and cooked to perfection!  We’d like to congratulate you on all of your accomplishments…  May we buy you a drink?

  If you don’t see your age listed above, please don’t take offense…this research is time-consuming!  We may get to you shortly…however as you can see from our comments on the 30-37  group, that isn’t likely going to be anytime soon.

I heard a blurb on the radio the other day about John Mayer’s plea for a “Digital Cleanse”. Normally I’m not really into John Mayer that much.  On the plus side, he’s got that whole “dark & brooding” thing going on, which is quite sexy, and according to his website he has some pretty fantastic tats.  Unfortunately, his music doesn’t inspire me to do much other than change the channel or the radio station.  That being said, I have to admit that his premise of a digital cleanse intrigues me.  His 4-step plan for this week-long cleanse ranges from the absurdly easy (no visiting celebrity gossip websites) to the radically insane (using your cell phone only for making actual phone calls …. no texting … no e-mails?  NO WAY!!)  In return for your sacrifices, Mr. Mayer promises that your mental hard drive will be … defragmented!  The amount of information in your brain will be reduced, thereby freeing up all kinds of space in your previously overloaded brain cells.  I assume this means you will then possess unrivaled mental clarity, exemplary moral decision-making skills, and a general sense of peace and wellness.

Well Mr. Mayer, I may be a few weeks late to your party, but I think I’m ready to take your challenge!  My only question is this:  What will I do with all that extra time on my hands?  By my estimates, I probably waste upwards of 20 hours a week rolling around in the digital dirt.  I know it’s quite the unproductive way to utilize my time.  If I take this challenge and free up all this time, not to mention mental hard drive space, what should I do with it?  Something productive?  Maybe read a book, or clean out my closets, or possibly get started on my tax returns?

Unfortunately, I doubt I’ll do anything productive with all that extra time.  My brain is far too addled with random bits of useless data to come up with any concrete or productive plan.  I’m thinking it’s going to look a little more like this …

The Top 5 things I will be doing for the rest of January 2010:

1.  Rooting for the Cowboys. With their first playoff win in more than a decade under Jerry Jones’ belt, this seems like the perfect time to jump on the Dallas bandwagon!  This is an easy one, because almost all the guys currently ranking high on my “Favorite Boys” list are HUGE boyz fans.  Plus, I got an awesome Cowboys t-shirt for Christmas this year, and I happen to look pretty fucking amazing in it.  GO TEAM!!

2.  Succumbing to my hormones. It’s January, which means temps are in the 30’s and it’s dark outside by like 4:52 p.m.  If John Mayer is planning to take away all my dirty digital fun while I’m stuck indoors during the darkest and dreariest month of the year, I’m going to need to an extremely pleasurable way to divert my attention and keep me on the straight and narrow.  I’m envisioning hours spent in bed, snuggled under the covers, naked warm bodies pressed together, rubbing and stroking and smelling and tasting.  Luckily for me, I have a ton of raging hormones packed into my little 125-lb body, so I think this is gonna be a snap!  I’m hoping to spend at least 19 of those estimated 20 hours right here.

3.  Embracing my vanity. Screw the economy …  and the cold weather!  I plan on investing hours of my time and energy shaving and tanning and toning and painting my body.  I do consider this to be a slightly productive use of time though, especially if I’m gonna make #2 above happen.

4.  Hanging out with whores. Whores have been getting a bad rap for centuries.  Just ask Mary Magdalene!  But I submit to you that whores are wonderful people, and it’s time to turn this trend around.  If I were to write-up a resume for a whore, it would include key phrases like “works well with others” and “is a team-player”.  Whores are generous and giving and their only desire is to please others.  That’s my kind of people!

5.  Instigating more public displays of pseudo lesbianism. This seems to be one of my favorite and most consistently entertaining activities recently, and I’m pretty sure that I’m not alone in my enjoyment of this.  When I stick my face into one of my hot & sexy GF’’s fabulous cleavage, and then make her kiss me (with tongue), we tend to arouse a bit of attention.  Plus, I like to think that my constant flirting with and teasing of these women is a real confidence-booster for them.  You’re welcome ladies!  Of course, I have no plans to actually follow through on any of this. (just kiddin @jablady123, we are totally hooking up one day!  and there may or may not be a lusty irishman involved … )

You check your cell (again).

Its silent.

You pop over to your yahoo inbox.

Empty. 

You try not to dwell on it, but you can’t help wondering … what on earth happened?   You thought the two of you had a great time last night!  You tried not to get your hopes up too high, but secretly you were pretty much convinced you’d hear from him today.  You were so charming!  And he was so flattering!

You wait a couple of days, all the while checking your phone like you’re waiting on the announcement of Armageddon.  Then it dawns on you … you’re never gonna hear from him again.

You’re angry  – who the hell does he think he is?

You’re depressed – I must have done something wrong!

And you’re bitter  – He was too short/tall/fat/thin/old/young/broke anyway.  I can do so much better!

You’re sure that you’re completely ready to move onward and upward.  But something is nagging you, and you just can’t stop thinking about it.  You didn’t get your CLOSURE.  You don’t want to seem desperate or needy, but you’re just dying to know what that other person is thinking.  Is he still hung up on that ex, the one he talked about all night?  Is he embarrassed by his ”little problem” ?   Is he waiting for you to reach out first?  Is he trying to play it cool and aloof?  You oscillate back and forth on what to do.  You could send him some type of  funny message, a FWD: joke perhaps, keep things light, and see what happens.  Or you could just come right out and ask him what he’s thinking … but what if he doesn’t reply?  My advice to you is this:  DO NOTHING. 

Stop wasting all your time and energy wondering and worrying.  Instead, focus all that passion on something a little more positive and productive – like your next conquest!  Closure’s way overrated in my opinion anyway.  You want answers, sure.  And you deserve them.  But let’s face it, your chances of getting any type of real answers are pretty darn slim.  Why not just make up your own reason and go with that?  Make it something really juicy and heartbreaking.  Maybe his grandma passed away unexpectedly the very day after your date, and in his depths of despair he poignantly placed his cell phone in her coffin just moments before she was laid to her final resting place?!

There are other good reasons for the whole ”no closure” thing too.  For instance, do you really want to know whether or not that “little problem” was an isolated incident?    Sure, it could have been those special GNC pills with L-arginine he ingested that morning in hopes of keeping up with you … but more likely it’s really just some lingering emotional problem that you are lucky to have escaped from hearing about! 

But the most important reason may be this:  Lack of closure leaves the door open for many future possibilities.  The most important of these is the possibility that the two of you will once again have hot, crazy, animal sex one day.   And that will be a fabulous time for you to unleash some frustration and exact some Lorena Bobbit-style revenge on his poor, unsuspecting penis.