Yep, It's My Fault

“The problem is you pick the wrong guys” – People who suck at breakup advice

With the exception of Mr. X my relationship problems have nothing to do with the men I pick. And has everything to do with the fact relationships turn otherwise nice guys into pricks.

I’m not the sort of person who goes out with a guy once and then he’s my boyfriend. I like to get to know my prospective boyfriends. I like to befriend them first, get to know them. See if they’re good boyfriend material or if they have more issues then playboy.

I’m selective with my boyfriends, I don’t go for “bad boys” or guys who are rude or disrespectful. That’s just a massive turn off to me. I like nice guys who are independent, who have the ability to make their own decisions and not follow the crowd. I like a guy who has his own beliefs and morals and stick to them. It’s not like I go for jerks and cheaters I put every effort in to screen them out.

I’m not a high maintenance girlfriend either so why men turn into assholes when they’re in a relationship is beyond me. My requests in a relationship are simple; I like a good night text and message if you’re running late. Clearly the makings of pushing a man over the edge.

It just infuriates me when people assume the girl is the problem, and it’s her fault things end poorly in a relationship.

Of course it’s my fault; I’m the one inserting his dick into other women. Yep it’s my fault I put his tongue in that girl mouth. Completely my fault I wrote the script he read when he lied to me. Give me a fucking break.

I know I’m not innocent and I’ve fucked up in the past and I own that. I’m by no means perfect. But neither are the guys I’ve dated and to pin their fuck ups on me is low and pathetic. Grow the hell up.

That’s my rant on the matter, what do you guys think. Is it the girls fault when a relationship doesn’t end well? As always dolls, stay safe.

Love,

The Honest Bitch

xoxoxo

Forced Holiday

I’m back.

I guess I should start by explaining my disappearing act. There isn’t actually much to tell. I was order by my doctor to take a few weeks off and relax.

He gave me this order, well; he actually didn’t give it to me, he gave it to my mom. Yes that’s right my mom. The doctor went over my head and gave it to my mom leaving me no choice in the matter.

He gave the order for two main reasons. The first is since my MRI I’ve been having panic attacks. Which my doctor says is due to stress. 18 doctors appointment in the first 4 months of 2012 will do that to a person. The second reason was my back was spasming and I had an appointment with a new doctor coming up. It was very likely at that first appointment he was going to do injections in my back which apparently is very hard to do when the back is spasming.

At first I wasn't a fan of these orders, I had things I needed to do and nobody was letting me do them. My mom actually went so far as to, hide my netbook and steal my PC keyboard. Charming I know.

After one final panic attack it became very clear I was taking this forced holiday whether I liked it or not and I should stop wasting my energy and just go with it.

I’m weird with panic attacks; I’m a very sane crazy person. I lay with my back against the wall looking at my door, because it stops that somebody is going to come up behind me and stab me feeling. As I’m lying there I’m thinking this is fucking crazy. My room is on the ground floor and at the front of the house, surely the window would be my biggest problem not the door. Like I said I’m a sane crazy person.

Despite the fact I thought I felt fine before my forced holiday I have to admit now my doctor was right. Even though it took me the best part of my time off to actually relax once I did, I could really feel the difference and as an added plus was my neck and back weren’t feeling so tight.

Or at least they weren’t until I met my new doctors yesterday, who I can safely say beat the living shit out of my back. I guess the upside is they decided, at least for now, they aren’t going to do any injections. Thank god for that. I’ve been under that fluoroscope so many times I think my ovaries are starting to glow in the dark.

After getting double teamed by two doctors yet again today, and let me add not in the good way, I’ve been given the green light to end my forced holiday. So I should be resuming my regular blogging schedule as of....now.

And if you ask me it’s not a second too soon, I’ve missed blogging. As always my dears stay safe,

Love,

The Honest Bitch

xoxo

3am Declaration Of Love

To all the men out there, I have a word of advice for you, declaring your love at 3am is NEVER a good idea.

Let’s start with the obvious reason why it’s a horrible idea. Nobody likes being woken up in the middle of the night. And women in particular HATE IT. You’re making us get out of bed in the middle of the night; half asleep, looking like shit, in our pyjamas with no makeup on so we’re instantly crabby. 

The other obvious problem is we don’t believe a single word you have to say at that hour. Nothing intelligent and well thought out comes out of anyone’s mouth at 3am. Not to mention the fact I don’t think anyone has ever declared their love at 3am sober. Women don’t care what the beer has to say ever, and saying it at 3am just annoys us farther.

I only bring this problem up because Friday night someone tried this bullshit on me and it’s now Sunday and I’m still irritated by it.

At 3am I was woken up by a knocking at my window. I tried to go back to sleep but it continued so I was given no choice but to get up. There was a drunken guy I haven’t spend any real time with in at least 7 years.

I decided to hear him out because it was clear I wasn’t getting any more sleep otherwise. He was rambling on about wanting a relationship and some other crap I wasn’t awake enough to take in.

He went on to tell me the he’d been drinking (duh) and that Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber had magically come across my blog and told him from what they saw I have feelings for him too.

Since I had no fucking clue what he or they were talking about I logged on to my blog to figure it out. I’d like to go on record that I still don’t know what they’re talking about. I personally think it’s another case of someone thinking their Mr. X when clearly they’re not. I don’t even have feelings for Mr. X anymore so even that’s logic is flawed.

After he said everything he had to say I kicked him out and tried to get back to sleep. That didn’t happen till 8am which irritated me even more. But I figured that was that and I wouldn’t hear anymore from him.

I was wrong, at 1am last night I got a Facebook message from him asking if he could come over and fuck me. At which point I decided my twitter follower Maxwell was right and I should buy a gun, a pink scary gun.

I’m way too old for this bullshit; it’s not appealing and a massive turn off. But hopefully you guys out there can learn from this guy’s mistake and not pull this crap because if you do the only thing you’ll be spending the night with is your hand.

As always my dears stay safe. Love,

The Honest Bitch

xoxo

Questionable Penis

There is something that has baffled women for years and I have to ask, why do guys take pictures of their junk and send it to us?

On behalf of women everywhere “STOP”! I don’t know what response you’re hoping for but I can guarantee you’re not getting it.

When we receive these unsolicited pictures our first response is to laugh, men look funny naked, it’s just a fact of life. While we’re laughing we’re also scanning the picture for information. This may sound strange but women are nosey and by scanning a picture of this type I managed to find out the guy I was chatting to was married. See, not so strange, it’s smart.

After all the laughing subsides, we begin to wonder why any guy in their right mind would want to show that off. Guys in these pictures always look so proud and after seeing more then my fair share I can safely say they shouldn’t be. I don’t believe there is such a thing as a well hung picture flasher.

Picture flasher is the technical name my friends and I have come up with for this phenomenon. Unlike their flasher cousins these men don’t wear trench coats they’re just armed with digital cameras.

I’m sorry to tell you this guys but on the whole women just aren’t turned on by seeing a dick. There is actually scientific research to back me up on that statement.

Men are mainly turned on visually; they can see something and thier little friend pops up to play.

Women on the other hand are more turned on by sound. We like to hear the interaction and hear that everything is being enjoyed. So because of that fact women are never going to ravage you just because you held your camera up to your junk.

The other thing you may not be aware of is women talk. We also share picture and when we share these pictures nice things are never spoken. I would say for every 1 picture you send 3 women and a guy see it.

If I had my way all the unsolicited pictures would be posted online with a picture of the guys face next to it. That way all women could see it and judge and or laugh for themselves.

Also by sending us these pictures you’re just setting yourself up for failure. If we decided to see your manhood in person, you know what we’re thinking. We’re thinking it’s a lot smaller than in the picture both in length and girth. Keeping in mind we probably didn’t think it was that big to begin with. That’s what you call double disappointment.

And double disappointment is the number one cause of faked orgasms.

Play safe, Love,

The Honest Bitch
xoxoxo

Most Annoying Words In The English Language

Are there any more annoying words in the English language then “send me a pic”?

It’s like the modern day equitant of sharing a bed with a women and repeatedly poking her in the back while she’s trying to sleep.

Give it a fucking rest!

First of all, are men aware how whiny and needy they sound when they’re repeatedly asking? It’s like a small child throwing a temper tantrum in a grocery store because he can’t have any candy. Nobody wants to fuck a man-child.

If all you really wanted was a picture you wouldn’t have to ask, it’s called Facebook. Pretty much everyone on the planet has more than their fair share of pictures on there. But you don’t really want a picture do you? You want something to cum over but instead of being honest you take the slimy road. And then wonder why the girl is getting irritated with you.

Of course your cure to the irritation you caused is to butter us up with comments about how good we look or your “feeling” for us. You couldn’t be any more transparent. It’s pathetic.

What I don’t understand is, if your goal is to get laid how does pissing off women get you closer to that goal? It makes no sense to me.

The whole thing is just a blatant insult to our intelligence. Then men wonder why women think romance is dead. We think it’s dead because pretty much every nice thing that comes out of a man’s mouth seems to be followed by “send me pic.”

How would you like it if we related everything nice we said to a picture? Image this, you’re making out with a hot girl, it’s all going great then she says “oh you’re so hard”.....”But it looked a lot bigger in the pic.” Mood killer right? Cheapens the whole thing, and that’s what you do to us every, single time you ask.

There is a time and place for pictures and if you have to ask it’s not the right time and you don’t deserve one.

Play Safe, Love,

The Honest Bitch

xoxoxo

One Last Lesson

As I sit here on my bed thinking about my reaction or lack of reaction to the whole Mr. X new love thing. It finally hit me, I could lay here and cried all I wanted, but he wouldn’t care, and that’s why I don’t.

I’ve spent so many years chasing the phantom, convincing myself I’ve put too much effort and time in to give up. I think by the end it became more about the thrill of the chase and the need to win more then wanting a relationship or anything like that.

Don’t get me wrong, there are things I genuinely love about him. His sense of honour, his wit, the fact his assholedom pushes me and motivates me to do my best. But let’s face fact...I’m not what he wants.

And.....I’m ok with that.

When I really think about it, he isn’t what I want either. I want someone who’ll take me as I am, someone who cares enough to spare my feelings, someone who will be there when I’m upset or hurt. I remember being in hospital, waking up after surgery in the recovery room and asking for him. But even then, deep down I knew he’d never be that guy.

The truly fucked up part of that story is I was deep into a relationship with Chicken Man at the time, who I also didn't see while I was in hospital but I digress.

After everything is said and done, I don’t regret anything and I can honestly say it hasn’t left me bitter. Some guys give you earth shaking orgasms and others just shake you to your core, changing you forever. Since I’m not the same girl I was all those years ago I can safely say he did that.

And as a parting gift he taught me one more very valuable lesson...

....You can’t win them all.

-The Honest Bitch

When One Cock Closes...

When One Cock Closes Another One Pops Up....

....The title of a blog I probably shouldn't be writing while drunk but I’ve never been one to take the dull way out and since I haven’t been able to write this sober, drunk is clearly the way forward.

Here’s how the story goes.

I was feeling very guilty about not putting up more of a fight when I warned NTB about this girl he was into. I’m calling her Ms. Train-Wreck. I knew she was trouble but I just wanted him to be happy. Little did I know she’d turn out to be Mr. X in drag. So now NTB is where I was 2 years ago and I feel horrible about it.

Well I was busy feeling bad about that, Mr. X sideswiped me with the news he has a girlfriend. I’m not stupid, I’m aware we both date but we don’t normally tell each other about it. So the news shocked me. It was really odd though, I didn’t cry or turn to my BBF in these situations (a very large bottle of tequila), I just went for a long walk and that was it.

There was one unforeseen problem though; I haven’t been able to string two words together since. Hence the drunken blogging, well that and it’s international drink something green day. Mojito is my green weapon of choice.

I’ve spent the afternoon/evening watching rugby and drinking with a bunch of my guy friends and now I’m home drinking more Mojitos (only 5 or 6) in bed and watching my sex and the city box-set. And I’ll tell you what, it feels damn good to let lose.

Anyways back to the story, after my long walk I came home to find a message on my twitter account from the evil monkey. It was such a sweet message and very well timed I could help but smile.

Then just as I was crawling into bed I noticed I had a Facebook inbox message. Thinking it was my cousin I got up to check it out, it turned out to be a message from a guy I haven’t seen or really spoken to in 2 years. We never dated we just kind of lived in the gray area.

I’m a smart girl, I know what an inbox message means but I needed a picked me up after the sideswiping so I decided to hear his BS out. It was the normal “we should go out sometime”, “I always think about you”, “you’re gorgeous”. I know that’s all code for “I’m horny”. But I needed the boost and it’s not like I was going to sleep with the guy. It was just a pick me up. And pick me up it did.

It was also a much needed reminder that when one cock closes another one pops up :-)

Play safe guys, Love,

The Honest Bitch 

xoxoxo