Lesbians and their pets…Are you a crazy cat or dog lady?

Hello everyone!  My apologies for not having posted anything in a long time.  It’s been quite a hectic couple of months for me.  There’s been some good, some bad and some quite interesting things going on.  For starters, I have started a new business endeavor that I am beyond excited about.  In the next few months, I plan to launch my invention to the public and then it is my hope that lesbians all over will be making babies and having great sex with my product.  I’ve got an upcoming article in Curve Magazine, an interview with sex therapist and expert Dr. Timaree Schmit and lots more amazing things are just around the corner.  Keep your fingers crossed for the success of this one for me ladies!  I also recently attended the Adult Video Network Expo in Las Vegas.  It was sex toy and porn star galore.  I’ve got a whole other blog entry for that experience. Now, with all the good, there does come some bad.  Bear with me, I’m about to get sensi on you and stray from my sarcastic bastard self for a second.     

Me and my baby!

I was recently reminded of how precious life can be how often we don’t realize the simple things we love and are accustomed to having can be taken away from us in the blink of an eye.  I’ve had several friends suffer losses in the past few months, be it a family member, friend, or their beloved pet.  To any of you that have suffered a loss, know I’m thinking of you. 

Now, to lighten the mood again (bc I can only be sensi for so long), if you know me, you know how obsessed I am with my dog, Sammie.  I got Sammie 9 years ago when she was just a little 2lb baby yorkie.  Sammie is actually about to have her 10th birthday!  I picked her out of the bunch because she had one ear that stood up and one that flopped down and she just melted my heart.  For you dog owners out there, you know, having a dog or cat or both is basically like having a child (lesbian preparation for the future).  I had no idea how much responsibility having a dog would be but I was adapting to the change and every pee and poop I had to clean up got easier and easier as time passed.  It’s like any new relationship, at first, you feel scared, lost, clueless, yet excited and once you start learning more, it becomes second nature (#lesbianbeddeath).  I felt a certain kinship with Sammie other than our hair was similar, that was unlike any other pet I'd ever had.  She is my best little friend.  Now, I know there are alot of crazy cat owners out there.  I'll admit, I'm partial to the pups.  I did inherit 2 cats via my marriage, which I have grown quite fond of, even when they hiss at me, but at my core, I'm a dog lover.  Dogs are the perfect companion.  They know when you are in a time of need, when you are in need of a snuggle and when they can be playful and wild and get away with anything.  They don’t talk back to you, they agree with everything you do and say, and as long as you give them treats, they are happy puppies.  This brings me to my topic this week.  Why are lesbians so crazy obsessed with our pets?  Is it something in our DNA?  Are we pre-dispositioned to be crazy cat/dog ladies? 

Seriously?  How could you resist?

Chocolate Baby!

I’ll be the first to admit, I’m a crazy dog lady.  If someone says my dog is looking a little plump or scraggly, I take it personally.  It’s like I’m forced to defend her honor.  I also have a “dogbook” page for Sammie.  I would say that about 770 of the 775 pictures I have in my phone are of my dog, not of my wife (whoopsies).  My dog has approximately 5 beds in our house for her to pick and choose from, although she spends most of her time on the couch.  Needless to say, my dog is what some would call, spoiled.  I feel confident as though I am not the only one that is like this.  When you walk onto the flag football field, you are somewhat overwhelmed by the amount of lesbians that have their dogs by their side, usually dressed in some sort of cute homo-approved dog outfit.  I guarantee if it weren't extremely weird to put a leash on a cat and take it for walks, you would see it happen, OFTEN.  Think about how many posts on Facebook are about a lesbian and their dog or cat?  Whether it's to tell the world how cute and snuggly your pet is or to share a milestone, posting about our animals is as common of an occurrence as lesbians sleeping with their friends (#youknowithappensallthetime).  Most lesbians go above and beyond to cater to their animals.  Be it dog or cat, they are the priority.  Even when it comes to a relationship, the number 1 in your world is likely your animal and not your significant other.  Don’t believe me?  Ask yourself this, if someone said to you, “You have to pick between your dog/cat and your gf, which would you choose?”  There’s no shame in your game people, if you are being honest with yourself, we all know you are going to pick your pet. 

I want to squeeze all those little faces!

The regal princess :)

I have always wanted to do a video documentary of how people talk to their pets.  Imagine how hilarious it would be to see over and over all that stoopid sounding baby babble we all do when we are speaking about or to our pet (#guiltyascharged).  Even my father talks to my dog in a sweet little doggie babble voice.  I know MANY people that make up songs for their pets.  There is a song for bath time, there is a song for dinner time, hell there is even a song for poop time.  Not to mention that we all have cute little pet names for our animals.  Sammie has approximately 8456487 pet names that I call her.  For example, I have been known to call Sammie the following (and I’m not ashamed to admit it): Bubba, Sweet Potato, Pumpkin Spice Latte, Chabubba, muffalata, Pork Tenderloin (when she was a little chubby), muffin head, I see a food trend happening here… I could go on and on about my pet names but I won’t bore you or make you want to throw up.  It’s a fact I’m obsessed with my dog.  I have a dog seat for her in which she drives in the passenger side of my car everyday on our way to and from work, I fork feed her breakfast, and when we play fetch you will often hear me saying in a mighty high voice “Go get it” as I throw her toy.  I always think she smells like brownies even when she probably stinks like pee and I’d let her kiss my face any day of the week.  Call me cray, call me what you want, I love my dog.  And I know all you lesbians out there love your animals like that too.  I also have to give a shout out to my other love, whom I also acquired her when I married my wife. Payden is the sweetest big chocolate brown bear in the world.  

My other love, trying to fit in Sammie's bed, the brown bear, Payden!

Lezbehonst ladies, there is no limit to our insanity when it comes to our pets.  This is the one area of our DNA in which being a little cray cray is acceptable (#finallyitsoktobecray).  Let’s rejoice in our love for our animals and unite in our crazy cat/dog lady DNA.  Put your paws up and high five! Please feel free to share your pet names and craziness with our readers!  Until next time…        

<3

***Happy 10^th birthday to my lil baby Sammie!  It’s hard to believe I have had her since she was just 3 months old!  I love you Bubba!

The dreaded lesbian rumor mill...think before you speak

Oh. My. God.  Becky, look at her butt, it is so big (shout out to Sir Mix Alot).

Well homos, I’m back, at least for this week.  I took some time off and I have been a very busy little lesbian working on collecting more “data” for my blog and have been getting all kinds of juicy lesbian drama to write about.  I’m also working on a few new projects for my business of making babies which I hope to soon announce to you all, so stay tuned.  For now, I’m going to start my “comeback” with this entry about the good ol’ lesbian rumor mill.  You surely have all heard of it.  It’s one of those things that even as hard as you try to stay out of it, somehow, someway, you will find yourself knee deep in it.  We know everyone loves to gossip.  You would be a liar if you said you didn’t.  Gossiping is like the air we breathe, we just can’t live without it.  It makes for good bar conversation, for good gchat topics while distracting yourself at work, and it simply makes the lesbian world go round.  I, myself, have been known to love a little gossip.  I am slightly addicted to celebrity gossip.  I have my subscription to Us Weekly and love my daily emails finding out all the juicy details about Mila and Ashton’s secret affair and how Kimye might be headed down the aisle.   

 

Sadly, how true is this?

There’s a lot to be said for talking shit about other people and their lives.  Some could argue that it’s all in good fun and there’s no harm no foul.  Others might say that talking shit and gossiping is what people that have nothing better to do with their lives do and since they have no lives of their own and are miserable, they insist on tearing down other people to make themselves feel better.  I can see both sides (sort of).  In my eyes, there is a distinct difference between saying “OMG, I can’t believe they hooked up in a bathroom at the football social!” compared to something such as “I know that person.  They are shady and do shady things and people need to watch out.”  Gossiping about things that are funny like sex is hilarious and necessary.  As I said, something has to get us through the work day.  But when the gossiping gets personal and is a personal attack that turns into you talking shit about someone that you likely know dick squat shit about, well, that’s where I draw the line.  The people that talk shit about other people and their character are the ones that I would like to shove a dirty sock in their mouth and call it a day.  In fact, I call these people “fucktards”.  A fucktard is a combination of a fucking idiot and (excuse my language) a retahd.  These are the people that speak before they think, act with impulse and do stupid shit typically to people that do not deserve it.  I also like to call these people a “stoopidfuckingidiotassholedick”. 

Why is it that people have to make themselves involved in situations that they have NOTHING to do with???  My answer?  It’s because they are fucktard losers with no friends and have nothing better to do with their time than to try and be “involved” in other people’s business and cause drama in attempt to make other people miserable just as they are.  There is a thick line between gossip and talking shit.  Ever walk into a bar with a friend and then all of a sudden everyone is asking you about your new girlfriend?  That’s how the lesbian rumor mill starts.  It can be as innocent as someone walking into a bar with someone, they are spotted, and then someone assumes they are dating, and then let the rumors begin!!!  It’s kind of similar to the “chart”.  We all know that if a chart was ever made, there would be way less than 6 degrees of separation between most of us.  That’s because we are all so god damn closely connected and if one person says something, you can assume the rest of the lesbian community will know about it within hours.  Thank you twitter, FB, gchat and smartphones. 

Well said, Sir.

I recall when I first started dating my now wife, there were several people that “warned” her about me.  They told her I was “shady” and I was a cheater and to “be careful” of me.  Truth be told, no one is perfect.  I’ve made some questionable decisions in my past.  And some of the people that warned my wife had some merit in what they said but also, some of them had no business telling her anything about me.  They had “heard stories” and thought they were being a “good friend” by telling her about me.  What they didn’t know is the things they heard probably didn’t ever happen or if they did happen, they likely occurred when I was 23 years old and stupid and they heard some warped version of the truth, hence, the dreaded lesbian rumor mill.  Luckily for me, my wife decided to ignore the “warnings” about me and later discovered I was nothing of what she heard.  There was not one thing shady about me nor would I EVER cheat on her.  So, fuck you lesbian rumor mill. 

With that said, there is so much god damn bullshit that people talk.  I’ll sit there and listen to a friend in need and surely I will give my opinion, but you won’t find me talking shit.  I don’t particularly enjoy burning bridges and to be honest, I have much better things in my life to talk about.  If you don’t, well, I would just prefer you keep your fat fucking mouth shut.  There is no need to spread rumors.  Spread peanut butter on a sandwich and then spread some jelly on it, don’t spread rumors.  It isn’t a good look.  It will end up coming back to bite you in the ass and you will look like the douchebag fucktard you probably are.  Why can’t we all just get along as the one big happy lesbian incestuous cluster fuck of a family that was intended for us?! 

Lezbehonest ladies, everyone loves hearing your best scissor story about the weekend or your wild night at the strip club and all the fun gossip that occurred, but leave your personal attacks and bullshit stories at home.  No one likes a rat.  We prefer pussy cats that are loyal and eat the rats.  Since we have recently been in the voting spirit, my vote is to cut the bullshit and squash the lesbian rumor mill AKA shut the fuck up. 

Shhhhhhhhhh. For the sake of us all.

Please, just shut the fuck up.  Thank you.

Enjoy reading my blog??  Perhaps you want the chance to agree or disagree with me, call me out and speak your mind?  In the next few weeks, you will have the opportunity to watch my blog on a tv show style format but the best part is you will be able to “call in” and chat with me live!  It’s a brand new, interactive platform of broadcasting that Lezbehonest Ladies and LiveScreenTV will be bringing to you.  I will keep you posted when we are ready to launch, but stay tuned for my website and promo coming soon!  And, thanks again for reading this bullshit.  

My Gay Interpretation of the Olympics

 Hi all, I’m back in action this week and here to bring you some gayyyyyy words of insight.  I took a few weeks off because it’s the summer and it was necessary, but I couldn’t stay away any longer.  As we are now in the month of August, there is already talk swirling around about the upcoming flag football season and as I watch all of the action and excitement of the summer Olympics, I started thinking about how closely related many of the sports are to lesbians lives and what a gay Olympics might look like.  Alas, here is my version and interpretation of a gay Olympics.

Hi.  We like boys that like boys.  Isn't it obvious?

For starters, did anyone read the article about a gay meet-up/hook up website that exists in London and how when all of the Olympic athletes arrived, the site crashed due to an overload of web traffic?  If that doesn’t set the stage on how many gay athletes there are, I don’t know what would.  I’m sure many of you have also heard how the Olympics is essentially like a brothel for athletes and the availability to have sex with many people in all kinds of places is a distinct and likely possibility.  That sounds remarkably familiar to how the lesbian community works.  Put us all in one place and there is a high probability that lots of us will sleep together (PTOWN ringing a bell??).  For lesbians, brothel-like concepts mimic the notions of “how many friends can I hook up with”, “how much incest can I create in one friend circle” and “how much chaos and drama can I create in one setting”?  Maybe our lives are like a twisted version of the Olympics?  Which brings us to the opening ceremony…  

The opening ceremony takes years of preparation and is highly anticipated by spectators and participants of all kinds.  Hell, your country even makes you special outfits for this event.  Ok wait, this is sounding more and more familiar again.  Do lesbians not prepare for months ahead of time before any big event such as PTOWN?  Do we not get our best (or worst) outfits prepared in order to show off our “pride”?  Imagine what Ralph Lauren would design for a lesbian Olympics opening ceremony outfit?  I envision popped collars, blazers, bowties, khakis, flip flops and no berets but stylish trucker hats giving that lesbian swagg stamp of approval.  All made in the USA of course.  Kind of sounds like we are walking down Commercial Street, doesn’t it?   

Hottie #2

Hottie #3

Hottie #1

Keep dreaming ladies.

As we move onto the actual sporting events, think about some of the things you are currently watching on tv and how closely they relate to actual lesbian life.  For example, I know there are many ladies out there that enjoy (obsess) over women’s soccer.  And who wouldn’t?  There is lots of eye candy to look at (Solo, Morgan, Wambach etc…Btw, you're welcome for the pictures) and if that’s not enough, these girls get to kick a ball around as their job.  What lesbian do you know that wouldn’t jump at the chance to kick some balls of any kind?  Yeah, thought so.  We also have the track star Lolo Jones.  She’s a 30 something hot virgin and kick ass athlete that looks damn good in spandex and a sports bra.  For lesbians, she’s like the straight friend you have always crushed on and dreamed about converting (taking her virginity) but will never be able to do so.  Keep dreaming ladies.  Then we have wrestling.  I know this isn’t one of the more popular sports but if you break it down, wrestling essentially mimics how lesbians flirt.  Our “method” of flirting typically will consist of trying to touch someone in some way or another and since lesbians are so competitive, that usually escalates to conversations like “I bet I can hold you down longer” or “I bet I can pin you to the ground first”.  These would all be the same kinds of things you would expect to hear from a wrestling coach, but for lesbians, this is kind of like our foreplay.  Which brings me to swimming and lezbehonest, this involves ladies getting wet.  Need I say more?

Get Wet.

Ever think about how tennis relates to lesbians?  Well, I have and now I will share why.  This sport involves hitting a ball back and forth and back and forth until someone misses or hits the ball out.  For lesbians, this is kind of like every relationship I’ve ever seen.  There is so much back and forth and back and forth until someone decides what the fuck they want which leaves the other person (the opponent) shit out of luck (girl gets dumped = ball out of bounds).  This cycle can go on and on and on for as long as someone can withstand it (game. set. match).  If you have never met or had the pleasure of dating a lesbian that didn’t know what the fuck they wanted or didn’t put you through the ringer with how many times they changed their mind, then you are definitely one of the lucky ones.  You win the gold medal (#fuckmylife #ironysucks).  The only event missing from the gay Olympics in my opinion would be some sort of drinking event.  I could see many of my friends competing in a case race or beer shotgunning event.  Just a suggestion to the Olympic committee.          

2016 Olympics

USGAY ALL THE WAY!

Lezbehonest, everyone enjoys oogling Olympic women athletes get sweaty and/or wet, that actually look good in spandex and can pretty much hands down kick a lot of ass.  We “civilian lesbians” may not look as good in spandex or get rewarded with gold medals but we certainly know how to have fun and get sweaty and wet in the process.  GO TEAM USGAY.

SCISSORING...Enough said.

It's even awkward when cartoons are doing it.

Yes ladies, you read the title right.  And you have been warned about reading on.  This entry is not for the shy or faint of heart.  In honor of season 3 of The Real L Word starting this week, I was reminded of a segment in season 2 revolving around scissoring.  This entry will delve into the lovely world of scissoring and why it’s hilarious and horrible at the same time.  There are so many misconceptions about lesbian sex.  There are also so many different variations of what and how people define lesbian sex.  I revert back to my childhood when getting to the “bases” was the big to-do.  In the bases I learned, third base consisted of getting in someone’s pants.  No sex, but perhaps there was some finger banging or some oral action going on.  Put that in lesbian terms and this would likely be considered a “home run” by most.  There are also thousands of terms for lesbian sex/scissoring that have been created.  For example, we have the following (to name a few), “Bumping Bagels”, "Pussy Locking", "Twisted Sisters", "Bumping Donuts", "Red Rubbing", "Clit-Clatting", "Rock, Paper, Vagina", "Pocket Docket", "Smelly Time", "Mashing Cookies", "Churning Butter", "Muff Buffing", "Grinding Beans", "Boiling Eggs", "Rose-Bud-Thud", "Ginger Smacking", "Cracker Barreling", "Sticky Sliding", "Cat Nipping", "Touching Tacos", "Position 7-B", "Clam Jousting", "Cardio Snuggling", "Bumping Fur”, “Clam Jousting”, “Clapping Clams”, I could go on and on but I’ll spare you anymore.  With that said, clitly, I mean, clearly, there are a lot of fun terms out there.  One term that was introduced to me last year thanks to the Real L Word was “pissoring.”  We will get to that in a moment.   

How can you not find this funny?

First off, let’s actually define scissoring.  Scissoring is “a lesbian sex act where two partners interlock their spread legs (like two pairs of scissors) and grind their vulvae together to stimulate each other's clitoris to orgasm.”  (please see picture for the visual if you want one).  Honestly, can you think of anything more awkward and hilarious?  Ok, I know it’s part of the lesbian sex wheelhouse but really?  Does anyone actually scissor?  Sure, you can “dry hump” the hell out of each other.  Be my guest.  But do people actually perform this somewhat gymnastics-esq type move in the sack?  Again, visualize this for a second.  Yeah, exactly.  If that isn’t awkward and uncomfortable enough, how would you even say to your partner, let’s scissor?  It’s not like you just land in that position.  It would take some skill and some communication to get situated into the scissor position.  I find it all around weird, awkward and yet somehow, hilarious.  I was at physical therapy this week and my therapist said to me, “now I want you to scissor my hands”.  In typical 12 year old boy fashion, I giggled and it took every ounce of my being not to burst out laughing.  The word and concept of scissoring is just comical to me, almost as comical as the word “blowies”.  (My wife is going to hate me for using that word in here but I can’t help myself, I think it’s hilarious).  What’s even more hilarious than blowies and scissoring?  Pissoring.  Yes, pity scissoring.      

Let me set the scene for you in a short recap of the incident between Romi and Kelsey from the Real L Word season 2 episode (even if you don’t watch the show you will get the idea).    Romi was basically an alcoholic.  Her loser gf, Kelsey is also an alcoholic and she’s a loser (did I mention that already?)  It looks like she hasn’t taken a shower since 1982.  Romi supports Kelsey because she’s a loser and can’t get a job and Kelsey basically just drinks every night on Romi’s dime.  Romi decides to take life seriously and not drink.  Kelsey does not.  They are experiencing lesbian bed death.  It angers Kelsey because apparently there is nothing more to their relationship than drinking and sex.  One night they go out.  Romi doesn’t drink and Kelsey gets shitfaced.  On the way home, Kelsey starts to cry in the cab, and sobs "We're not having sex and I hate it! I hate it!"  When they get home, Kelsey stands by the bed with her arms at her sides and her pants half off, staring at Romi like a zombie in need of a belt. She slurs, "It's all I have with you, hon" with all the conviction of a phone book recital.  Romi feels so bad, she finally gives in and gives Kelsey everything she's got, and lets her do whatever she wants.  So, they scissor.  Or as we now call it, they pity scissor. Pissoring, if you will.    

Romi and Kelsey in their pissoring glory.

Ever been pissored?  I surely hope not.  There is a vast difference between being horny and wanting to get laid than being so desperate that you essentially have to beg someone for sex.  Hopefully you have some self-dignity, you are not as desperate to scissor as Kelsey was, and have never had someone pity scissor or pity sex anything to you.  Lezbehonest, if you are getting laid out of pity, there are much bigger issues in your life than you even know.  Hire a hooker if you have to.  Or go rub one out yourself.  Don’t fall victim to a pissor.  It was shameful for Kelsey and it would be shameful for anyone else.     

That Bitch Cray…What happens when you find out she’s a little crazy, but aren’t we all?

Lezbehonest, everyone has a little cray cray in them.  It’s all about the amount and levels of craziness that one person possesses.  When it comes to dating, you have to figure out if your kind of “crazy” is compatible with someone else’s.  For example, perhaps the person you are dating is a total type A.  They are manic with everything they do.  Is it best for them to be paired with another Type A (holy “To Do Lists”) or is it best for them to be with someone that needs a little Type A in their life and can handle the regimented Sunday activities (grocery shopping, laundry, homo depot, etc..) like it’s no big deal?  Dating crazy also depends on your threshold of crazy.  Are you one of those that feel like you have the patience of a saint?  That you can handle pretty much anything thrown your way in terms of crazy women?  Perhaps you are of the mindset that you can fix the cray in someone.  As a friend said and I quote, maybe you are “the mother fucking Teresa” of fixing girls and their problems and you can stick it out with just about anyone and handle just about anything.  Obviously, that kind of person has a high threshold.  Not all of us are blessed with that capability to be able to decode crazy.  In those cases, do you stay or do you run? 

Honestly, she was beyond cray.

My first gf ever was all kinds of crazy.  I learned so much from that experience and for that reason alone, I will never forget her.  The first thing I learned was never move in with someone you have dated for less than 6 months.  As she was my first girlfriend, I was not smart with my decisions and followed my heart not my head.  After only dating her for 3 months, we moved in together.  Yes, I committed the infamous “UHAUL” with her.  Like I said, I was a rookie lesbian and I didn’t know any better.  I should have seen some of the crazy signs she displayed prior to moving in with her but I was ignorant and stoooooooooooooooopid so I chose to ignore these things.  This girl had more issues than I have shoes (and I have a lot of shoes).  After discovering that she had stolen my social security number, opened credit cards in my name, and essentially threatened me with her psychosis on a daily basis, I decided I had enough.  And that was just scratching the surface with her amount of crazy.  So, I called my parents, told them to have a moving truck at my apartment the next morning and that I was coming home immediately.  They knew it was a dire situation.  I felt like I was living the movie “Single White Female” except I was dating the psycho bitch.  The only way I knew she would let me leave the apartment was if she had no clue I was leaving and wasn’t there.  I dropped her off at work as I normally would and pretended nothing was going on, went back home, and moved all of my shit out.  She came home to an empty apartment.  Like I said, desperate times call for desperate measures.  Did I mention she hacked into my cell phone records and my emails?  Oh yeah.  She did that too.  I feel as though I have a fairly high threshold of crazy and I’m a fairly understanding person, but this girl was wayyyyy beyond repair.  This one went down in history as the worst person I have ever dated in my life, boys included.  That’s saying a lot.  She was certifiably crazy.  I don’t think anyone could ever tame that one.      

Does this mean you're not into me?

Suppose, for your sake, your lady is not as crazy as mine was.  Suppose you encounter a girl that is extremely insecure and needs reassurance for every little thing.  She feels like you are constantly looking at her funny or thinking weird things about her and not telling her.  Is it possible to handle someone that needs to be coddled all the time?  Or say you are one of those people that thrives on drama and you can somehow create drama anywhere at any time.  You are not happy unless there is something for you to be talking about or worrying about and if there is no drama you will find a way to make some.  I find this kind of person pretty cray.  Drama can be entertaining in small doses, but who the hell wants to be around someone that thrives on it?  That legit, craves drama.  I sure as hell don’t.  I’ll pass on that kind of crazy, thanks.  Perhaps you are the kind of cray that analyzes every little thing possible to the point of no return.  You would find a way to analyze someone saying “hello” to you.  Imagine being with someone that hyper analytical?  If you so much as blinked the wrong way it would likely cause a fight.  Is there a good balance for this kind of crazy in a partner?  Perhaps someone that is a mute or comatose would be suitable.  Or there are those girls whose moods change like the weather in New England.  That can make it hard to keep up with things.  I’m personally partial to the kind of crazy in which someone feels as though you are supposed to be able to read their mind.  As if you are some kind of superhuman being that is clairvoyant and should know everything they want and are thinking at all times.  This is definitely the kind of crazy that can keep things interesting.  It can also drive you a little cray as well.  Or maybe you only see the cray in someone when they are in “ex” status.  The crazy only comes out after things have been broken off and they go postal on you.  This kind of crazy is not so fun.       

Maybe you are into crazy.  Perhaps you feel as though a little cray keeps you on your toes.  To those ladies, I salute you.  I mean, I found someone that likes my kind of crazy.  I even got her to marry me.  So I feel as though there is definitely someone out there for everyone, it’s just a matter of finding the right partner that can balance your inner crazy.  Lezbehonest, we are all crazy bitches in our own way.  My advice, embrace the cray but pass on the fish filet (#Kaynesaysitbest). 

I'm turning 31 next week which means another year of useless wisdom and experiences under my belt to share and torture you all with in weeks to come.  Hope you all have a happy 4th of July. Eat, drink and be gay!