What is it about this place?

August 11, 2007

Dang, I almost forgot my guest post. Sorry, Karen!

I am Suebob of Red Stapler and I am also Karen’s best friend in the whole wide world. Not really, but she was careless enough to give someone like me access to her blog, so I can say any dang thing that pops into my head.

What is it about Vodkarella that makes otherwise sedate bloggers go a little crazy? Dana killed me yesterday with her story about getting caught in the dog pound, so to speak, by her little son. I was blushing for her.

Me, I’m not gonna talk about sex because I’m not having sex. I know it is hard to believe, someone as totally hot as me being celibate, but that’s just the way it is right now, and for the foreseeable future, because let me tell you, I have looked into dating and it ain’t pretty.

I am 46 years old, people. I am a woman, but I have the same problem as all those 40-something men that we ladies love to complain about: I don’t want to date someone my own age.

Men my own age have wrinkles and weird hairs and extra poundage (just like me) and divorces and child custody issues (unlike me).

Like all those guys, I want to date someone who is 27. A skinny blonde surfer guy with good values. Or a skinny dark-haired musician who loves to travel. Or a skinny young scientist who runs his own biotech lab in his basement. I’m not picky, just someone skinny and young. Unlike me.

If I had been smarter and become a millionairess by now and had invested much of my riches in plastic surgery and personal trainers, I might be able to snag me one of these cute boys.

But since I didn’t, I am left with a lineup in the yahoo personals ads that just plain frightens me.

Ladies, here’s my advice: stay married. I know you look at that lump over there on the recliner sofa, the one who watches sports 14 hours at a stretch, the one who has never learned where the vacuum is kept, the one who doesn’t remember important dates and who isn’t very romantic - and you think “Hm, I could do better.”

Before you head to the courthouse to pick up divorce papers, do me a favor and look at the yahoo personals. Then remember this: everyone is lying about all the good stuff. We all do. We can’t help it. We want to put our best foot forward and forget that we will eventually revert to our normal behavior. But we will. We always do.

So take a look at the lump on the sofa and consider a few things: he’s your lump. You don’t have to woo him. You don’t have to tell him your whole life story and all your cute anecdotes. You don’t have to prove yourself to him.

Go on over, give him a kiss. And a squeeze. And a rub…and hey! Lock the door if you’re going to do that. The kids might see you.

Posted by Karen Sugarpants @ 5:55 pm