If You Prick Me, I Bleed

Witizens:

I know from my sarcastic tone and the "Why Women Wednesday" posts that I may come across as a know-it-all, infallible, and somewhat insensitive person. Oh well. There is nothing I can do to change a reader's perspective and I won't try. I will share just how much I occasionally girl out, and you can reach your own conclusions. I'll start with yesterday and how for no known reason, I was superdeduper irritable. I read an email, and I was set off. I had stuff blow up at work, and I was set the fuck off. Everything else that happened just added to this mountain of doom, and I just couldn't help wanting to scream at the top of my lungs. This all sounds quite normal to the average girl, but for me, it was very off putting. For one, I am not a yeller or screamer. Second, I am super sarcastic and will laugh at myself quite easily, so the moodiness over the email was out of character. Third, I usually could give two shits about anything work related, so I didn't understand that frustration either. Then I got frustrated with my frustration.... Yeah, it was one of those days. To avoid snapping at innocent bystanders, I refused to talk to anyone unless it was absolutely necessary. You know why? Cause I'm cool like that.

Transferring and displacing anger are totally lousy, and should not be done. Ever! No kicking the dog because you're pissed at the cat. That shit's not cool. I have been a witness to the way women behave when they are P.M.S.ing, and how they treat innocent civilians as if it were these people that personally stabbed their vagina and made it bleed. Ladies, stop that. It's not cute and you make us all seem crazy. Well, we are, but we don't have to act like it. I tried suppressing my female rage yesterday, and for the most part, I think I did a pretty good job. I also had to quarantine myself to ensure that, but I still recognized it as my own personal issue. I realized any war path I was on was due to the inner battle that was being waged.

I still managed to have a slight attitude in my emails, with my coworkers, and anyone else I had to speak to, but it was subtle and somewhat deserved. I'm generally too nice, so a little attitude is welcomed and most of all, well deserved when I do display it. Today started out much better, but I made the mistake of watching most of The Notebook before heading off to work. Oy vey! I nearly called out from work due to an emotional breakdown. Yesterday, anger. Today, crying, laughing, and loving everything. Fucking estrogen! To top it all off, I kept thinking of my current crush mixed in with Noah from the film, so I had this Noah/My beau concoction in my head all day... Then it became "if I'm a bird, then I want him to be a bird too"... Once again, fucking estrogen.

I take, make love, ache, and fake just like a woman. But I break just like a little girl. I am human. I am a woman. I am sometimes crazy, moody, and emotional for no existing reason. I complain too much. I give too many excuses. I like pro sports teams based on the colors of the uniform and the attractiveness of the players. I check my makeup while driving. I talk on the phone too much. I heart shopping. I enjoy spending money. I love cooking. I hate making mistakes. I don't "do" gross. I see babies and make that God-awful cooing sound. Ditto for any newborn animals. In short, if you prick me, I do bleed, but I will not make it anyone else's fault.


Truly,

Not~So~Cosmo

Witsy's Why Women Wednesday

Witizens:

Bonjour, ladies. This question was posed to me, and I've thought of it in the past few weeks myself. Why, Women, do you think that having a baby to trap a man will ever work? Why would creating life ever be the "easy" alternative to securing a partner? Isn't there something smaller and more reasonable that can be done? For example, wouldn't becoming a better you, or just learning to let go of a dead relationship be more feasible? If not, WHY?

I'm not a mother (if it's not painfully obvious), and I don't know if I ever will be. What I am damn sure of is that a decision like that won't be to "make the relationship work". Ummm... NO! That is ricockulous. If a man wants to leave, he'll leave. A baby won't make him stay, and may make him flee faster. Sometimes the women will say the classic line, "Leave! Me and my baby don't need you..." or will act as if they've gotten an abortion, but really don't. Also, there are these cases of women who get knocked up and never tell the father, only to return like a ghost of pussy past, and spring a kid on the man years after the fact (and sex). On top of possibly ruining this guy's new relationship and life, these women want money for their unknown kids. What the hell? I'm not saying a man isn't responsible for the life he helped create; on the other hand, it's not fair to men to be tricked, hoodwinked, and bamboozled into being a father. Why would you want a father for your child that feels tricked into being a dad?

I've heard women say they'd love to get pregnant from superstars and athletes, and I'm guessing it's a way to secure a lifelong bond with these men, as well as a lifelong bond with their money. Le sigh. What about that lifelong bondage of a kid? Is that forgotten? If being pregnant, gaining weight, breast feeding, taking care of a baby, losing sleep, and never being able to go out like I do now is the EASY alternative, then I'll stick with the difficult stuff. Thanks! I don't want to retire in my twenties from the workplace, and become a housewife. If that's what these women consider the easy life, then I feel sorry for their kids. There better be a court order involved to make me stop partying for the next nine months. Women, why are you enslaving yourself to a life of servitude to your child in the hopes to enslave a man to you?


Truly,

Not~So~Cosmo

GhettoRAGE!... Is It In You?

Witizens:

Shortly after Albert Haynesworth "stomped" on Andre Gurode's head, and nearly got himself lynched for it, we had the displeasure of witnessing the following debacle. Sportsmanlike conduct is dead. Roid rages are alive and kicking (biting, punching, stomping, and suplexing). I only wish someone would inform some of these players that perhaps a game like football, or any contact sport really, is just not their thing. I know, why not try UFC or boxing? That way it is the goal to beat the hell out of one another. Let's leave the sports with finesse to the players that actually have it.


UM-FIU


Truly,

Not~So~Cosmo

'Delishus' Flavor O' Love

Witizens:

The lovable, laughable, and unimaginable hit series "Flavor of Love" has come to an end for it's second season. PLOT SPOILER AHEAD: Since my last post on the show, every girl was eliminated, save Delishus, and an oldie, but slutty contestant came back from Season 1... New York. I don't know whether that whore is bipolar or just the worst actress/T.V. personality EVER, but I don't like her. I know that's the point of her character, but I don't like that either. There are ways to be unlikable without being that dramatic. Oh God, and that includes New York's horse of a mother also; she's somehow worse than that daughter of hers.

So of course New York tried to make it the "New York Show", and of course I wished I could witness television's first spontaneous human combustion. She arrived on the set looking as if she had been on the famous Hollywood diet, the Cocaine diet, and somehow managed to be sluttier and more obnoxious than last season. Although she tried to pass it off as classy, she's trashy. And that bitch can barely read. Delishus ran circles around New York, so it was no surprise that Delishus won this season. The surprise was that New York was even in the running with her ridiculous tactics; i.e. calling Flav's children "little bastards" or physically assaulting other girls. As if it weren't apparent enough by her fake hair, eyes, and nails, I'll state it for the record: everything about that bitch is fake. Her crying fits...fake. Her temper tantrums...fake. Her mind blowing orgasm noises... FAKE! So I can only assume her motive for being on the show is not for love, so even that is fake, as well.

It turns out that New York will have her own VH1 series entitled: "Floverette" or something comparably stupid. Once again a spin off is made from a spin off, and this leaves my tummy spinning. Delishus announced on both T.V. and radio that she was concerned most about Flav's refusal to eliminate New York. She even went so far as to totally let the snake out of the bag by quoting Flav in saying that "I could not eliminate New York if I wanted to; it's not my choice". For all of us who ever suspected that no girls in their right minds would compete with each other for Flav's love alone, well, we were correct. Publicity sells. Exposure sells. Scandal sells. And Flav sold out. If he couldn't eliminate New York, then the clock ceremonies and all that bullshit was, well... bullshit. If New York was only there to promote her own show, then it was worse than I ever imagined. I'm not sure if Delishus was trying to bust on her man or discredit New York, but she totally exposed that "Flavor of Love" was a sham.

I am still happy that New York got fucked and dumped for two seasons in a row, but then, I'm sure that was the point. Flav found true love, and it was Delishus. New York got dissed, and the viewing audience is ecstatic. And for suffering twice, New York gets her own show. All the other eliminated girls got their exposure and will end up on a rap video. Voila! Everyone goes home happy. What a load of bullocks!


Truly,

Not~So~Cosmo

**Here's what you missed if you didn't see the finale. Enjoy!**

Flavor of Love 2 Final Elimination


*_*

Witsy's Why Women Wednesday

Witizens:

It's about that time... Inquiring minds want to know... I want to know!!! Why, Women, are you so pressed for a man these days? I know we women love the thought of finding our one true love and blah blah blah blah blah. However, do you really think skanking it up with just any and everybody is going to make that happen? Or do you think that porn pics on Myspace is going to help? Or cybersex with AOLers? How about spoiling/buying guys? Why have you become the aggressors (chasers) and the men the prize? Why are you making the supply for pussy so extremely high that the demand is so flippin' low? Yeah, I said it.

Now, I am no prude, but I still have some old fashioned standards. Like... ah yes, not outright paying for dick. Just not cute. I don't mean that I never pay for anything; that's absurd. What I won't do is lure a man in and attract him with money. Some of these women are making themselves out to be a "Nurse With a Purse" for these guys, and then feel used when the guy continually "forgets his wallet". Ummm, you're his lady not his mother, Women. Why do you feel the need to lure men in with anything other than just being you?

Another old fashioned standard is not making myself into a pseudo porn star on the internet... sorry fellas. The photos of myself on the internet are the same body image you'd see passing me on the street. No pics of me bending over with a thong, no boob shots, and deffo no large objects placed near any orifices shots. What the hell are you women thinking? If you're going to slut it up, don't do it for free! Oh... you thought it was a moral standpoint I was taking? Not so much. If you're going to take these pics, get paid. If you're going to call up random AOLers for phone sex, get paid as a professional. If you're going to suffer carpal tunnel syndrome from all the cybersex, get fucking paid (you'll need the cash for the treatment anyway)! Why are you settling for just the attention of any man if you really want true love? Why not go for good attention? Why not wait on "the one"?Why be so hard up?

Truly,

Not~So~Cosmo

Makos Mondays

Witizens:

What used to be termed "Margaritas Mondays", in which I lay out at the beach or pool, and down many a frozen drink is under renovation. It has not been the case for about three weeks. For starters, I'm usually nursing a hangover from a Sunday or Monday night football game. Second, the last beach day I had was cut short due to sharks at the beach (yes, flippin' sharks!). Lastly, I just don't have the spirit right now. I've been on a roller coaster of emotions as of late, and I hate roller coasters... and I hate being emotional, as well.

South Florida Winter...

Or the lack thereof, is quickly approaching. I can tell because it's not so humid outside, and the waves are crashing in towards the shore so much harder. As was the case a few weeks back at my beach... yeah, it's mine. Anyway, I noticed the water was a bit "saucy", so I didn't go in too far. Another thing that struck me as odd was this HUMONGOUS dark patch of water about 15 feet from the shore. Now, I'm no oceanographer, but I know the water near the shore shouldn't be as dark as the water sitting back near the horizon. Hmm, fishy. This caused me to get out of the water and go lay out some more, but I kept an eye on the dark waters. Optical illusion? Too many 'ritas? Too much bud? I couldn't tell, but I was willing to witness it on the sand. Minutes after I got out of the water, the lifeguard kicked everyone out of the water,and raised the "Red Flag". I asked my neighboring beach loafers what the ruckus was, and they said that there was a school of fish and sharks were feeding on them in the water near the shore. Aha, that explained those "dark waters"; they were fish. The loafers were talking amongst themselves about going in the water to get a closer look at the mako sharks, and that was my cue to leave; I don't do bloodshed.

Mako Exit...

I packed up my beach bag, and headed to my car when a thought struck me. If Jaws were set on a predominantly black beach, it would have been as long as a public service announcement or commercial. I decided to watch the events from a safe spot, the stairs leading to my car. It was an awesome view! When the waves broke where the fishes were, the small fish would jump out of the water. Awesome!! I could also see the makos from that distance and they were HUGE still. Awesome!!! They were swimming so quickly that I decided that my beach will be on loan to the sharks for the winter. I'll opt for the poolside margaritas instead.


Truly,

Not~So~Cosmo

Witsy's Why Women Wednesday

Witizens:

It's another Hump Day, even if "ain't nobody humpin' around" around here. Celibacy is a load of bullocks. Ummm, strike that last statement from the record. As you all know, it is time for me to fire off a number of questions geared at the "sugar and spice and everything nice" gender. Why, Women do you carry on a relationship with a man you suspect to be gay, bisexual, bi-curious, or part gay? With all the denial that goes into a traditional romance, suspecting your man has tendencies is the biggest RED FLAG to get the hell out of the relationship. "Does he love me? Does he cheat? Is he gay?"... ummm, that last one has got to go. I mean, none of those suspicions are healthy, but dammit man, that last suspicion has got to go. Why? Because the first two are typical suspicions/accusations that most females' crazy brains will manifest. Is he gay? Well, that takes a little help from the male's personality/lifestyle. Why, Women, do you try to turn a gay man straight? Why do you think you can?

Now, to be fair, there are some women that are caught completely off guard by their partner's coming out. I call these women naive. Then there are the women that always had a sinking suspicion that his hair, brows, clothes, and that delicately-raised pinky were all a bit too femme, but they plow full speed ahead into love anyway. I call these women stupid. Let me help to point out distinguishing characteristics:

1) He wants a finger in his ass
2) He wants you to use the sex toy on him
3) He cares more about his hair than you care about yours and his combined
4) He enjoys watching or talking about you with another man
5) His obsession with ass and anal play/sex is borderline unhealthy
6) He touches his eyebrows in any fashion, even if it is a unibrow
7) He would allow those "Queer Eye" guys to touch him for a makeover
8) He goes to gay clubs "for the music"
9) He owns more beauty products than you do
10) He adores show tunes

I don't want to hear that sexually open bullshit, nor the "Metrosexual" clause gay men are using these days. It's just not convincing me. And neither should it convince you other women. Why doesn't your "Gaydar" go off when your lover is more ladylike than you are? Were you the type of women that were obsessed with being "Mr.s George Michael" back in the day? Metrosexual... pish posh. I liked it better in the good old days when I called them "Queens" because that's what they are. A real man is too oblivious to the world of Cosmopolitan to give a shit about what us women care about, and the moment they begin to care, they care to attract who we attract: men.

Why do women crave these Ken types, and not so much the G.I. Joe types? Why are we manning up more than the guys we are attracted to? And who in the hell told these men to open up more and cry? Was it you, women? If so, ummmm, WHY?!

Truly,

Not~So~Cosmo

NFL, Stella, & The Heart-Breaking Bar-Hopper

Witizens:

If it's not apparent that I pretty much dig most sports, then I'll plainly state it: I heart sports. I can watch just about any major sport, except golf or fishing... just no. Anyhow, I've taken to going to a sports bar (I won't name drop) that is three minutes away from my house. This is awesome, seeing as though I can get pretty shit-faced and the drive isn't long. I know, I know... drunk driving is soooo awwwwfuuul (unless you trump it by going off on Jews and then the whole pesty DUI thingy is forgotten). I enjoy the simple things in life. I go to das bar. I drink my Stella Artois. I yell, hoop, and holler during the football game. And I break the boys' hearts.

Le Sigh...

This is the problem: when guys are watching a sport, I've advised women to shut up. So, when I'm at the bar, and these dudes try to "holla", I get extremely annoyed. I'm not a total bitch, so if some guy is just shooting the shit about the current game on the tele, then kudos. The moment he starts with the "where do you live...work...what do you do for fun?" bullshit, I then take it as my personal duty to tell them to piss off in the most comical way... for me. For starters, asking someone, "what do you do for fun?" when they are in a sports bar drinking, watching the game, and cheering with glee is the dumbest fucking question. I follow it up with, "Well... this, minus you talking to me...", or something else horribly mean.
I would think this would get them to shut up or leave me alone, but alas, it does not. When a guy is drunk, you really have to drive the point home; I'm learning this and it pains me. I like to be witty, and there's no room for wit when telling a guy you don't want to go home with him. And "No!" works, but it has to be repeated, and I hate being redundant; there's no wit in it. My new tactic is to ask them what a girl should do to get a guy to leave her alone, and after they tell me, I simply do that to them. It works, but I'm usually drunk by that time. My sober mind is a patient mind.

My intentions are not to hurt guys' feelings, so if there is a painless way to reject someone, I'd opt for that. A speedy rejection is also required so that I'm not missing too much of the game. If anyone knows of a sure way to speedily reject a guy without hurting his pride, then I'm all ears. Pretty soon, I will be banned from my current sports bar for unsportsmanlike conduct or unnecessary roughness on the male ego, and that ain't right.

Truly,

Not~So~Cosmo

Thank Somebody... It's Friday

Witizens:

As another week comes to an end (at least for you lucky ducks that don't work Sat. and Sun.... bastards...), a weekend begins. Even though I'll be in tomorrow, I'm still ecstatic about the weekend. HOOORRAAAYYYY!!!! I am happy for you and your days off; you've all earned it for slaving for The Machine. Take life by the balls these next two days, and do what you want to do. It will make next week's Monday more bearable, I promise.

Actually, I am just happy all around. Sometimes, as a writer, I feel the masses would rather juicy, controversial, debasing entries. Sex sells. Violence sells. Juicy gossip sells. Love? Ahh, too overdone and who needs it? Well, I do. As a matter of fact, I concur: Love is all you need. If I could bottle all the joy in my heart, I'd spray it on everyone I passed by. Sex, drugs, violence, and scandal have been overdone as well, but no one minds that. The more the better. Love... too mushy. Poppycock is what I say to that. Open up your hearts and let that love out this weekend! It's all you need.

Truly,

Not~So~Cosmo

Witsy's Why Women Wednesday

Witizens:


It has come to my attention time and time again this week that "men hate losing to women". I would ask men why, but I'm sure I can guess. Instead, I'm turning my loaded weapon on the ladies. Why, Women, do you let guys win? Do you have any idea how hard you're making it for chicks like me that don't let them win? I'm not competitive, but if we're going to play, well... let's flippin' play. I play for fun, and that's it. Why reinforce such a silly mindset? Men not lose to woman? Ha... laughable.

I've played a video game, "Track & Field" to be exact, with my older brother who was an Olympic decathlete. Now, on paper, he should have kicked my ass. In reality, I kicked his. I think it came down to the endurance of moving the stick for so long. His forearm got sore, and I just didn't think about it. He got all huffy and complained, "well.... women have a higher pain tolerance". *shakes head* I asked, "so you're saying women are stronger?" ... Silence... Then he said, "let's play horseshoe," thinking he'd have to beat me in that because it's more physical. I won. We played again (with me trying less), and I won. We played a third time, and I gave up and he got madder. It is my belief that his wife had been losing to him on purpose and it created a monster.

Women, why do we take the backseat to men when we compete? Why not show our attributes, and play to the fullest just to add a sporting challenge? Do we think they'll break? Will their egos just deflate on the spot and leave a shell of a man? Why do we hate them losing to us as much as they hate it? Why don't we just kick their asses and take our rightful spot? This isn't me being a feminist. This is me, and I have no qualms with winning; against male or female competitors. The beauty is that since I am not competitive, I barely pay attention (ask anyone I play against in Fantasy sports), I accept defeat with a smile and a "congrats", and I truly play for fun! It makes the victory even sweeter, and the competition LIVID. I wonder why...

Truly,

Not~So~Cosmo