Archive for the ‘Men without dicks or brains’ Category

I guess the post below has that dick’s Richard’s ears ringing cause I just got another email from him.

Hi Debbie – just wanted to check in and say hi. Hope all is well.  Any time to meet in the next few days?

What the fuck?  Why does he still email me when he’s getting no response?  This kind of persistence baffles me.  I’m too lazy to be this annoying.

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Recently, I’ve been receiving emails from…well, let’s just call him a former liaison. One of my old email accounts is forwarded into my real one and I was surprised to see an email from him. Richard. What can I say about Richard? Sexually, he’s never been able to last longer than 30 seconds. Non-sexually, he’s a bit cheesy and says things that are retarded. Let me give you a taste of the emails I’ve been receiving over the past 2 weeks. I also want to point out that I have not answered one of these emails.

Hi Debbie – been a long time…. how are you? I wanted to see
if you were interested in getting together.

Now, I haven’t seen this guy in 4 years. I told him then that I was done with this. I guess he forgot.

They get better.

Hi Debbie – hope all is well. I wanted to see if you were busy this weekend. Wifey is away, so I wanted to see if you wanted to come over and play…

Ew. I feel sorry for his wife.

what about saturday night, i’d love to come to see you but i cant; i have my son to watch. you can come over here…he’d be asleep, so we could have our fun…..Id love to try and do all sorts of things with and to you… been so long. I recall you were cool with anal pleasures as well – id certainly love to help. let me know…. otherwise perhaps another time… any opportunities for daytime playtime? i can come to you for that if you want

Um, what the hell is he talking about? First off, what kind of person does he think I am that I’d have sex with his kid there? Second, why does he think that I’d respond to an email this creepy? Daytime playtime? Gag me.

I wonder how creepy he’d get if I actually answered him.  I just don’t get people like this.  Do they think they’ll wear me down and I’ll finally say…come on over and treat me like a cheap adulterous blow up doll?

Anyhow, that’s all. I just needed to share that.

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Okay, so that trainwreck “Rock of Love” is back on. You know, the show that documents Bret Michaels hunt for love. The women are even bigger whores than the last season. It’s almost too sad to watch. Almost.

One woman was telling him about how smart and cultured she is and then she tells him how she got that way…”I’ve learned so much from MySpace. Everything I know I got from MySpace.”

What is wrong with people?

First of all, why are these woman falling all over Bret Michaels? He looks like a woman with bad plastic surgery. It’s the same retardedness that was displayed during “Flavor of Love”. These men are gross. Bret said on the show that he has two daughters. Um, would you want your daughters acting like this for a washed up has been wearing too much makeup. I don’t think so.

I said this last time this show was on and I’ll say it again. Maybe he needs to stop dating whores, strippers, and groupies. Maybe he should date a woman who actually knows stuff you can’t find on MySpace. Just a thought.

It’s a damn shame.

And yet, I will watch every episode of this show. And laugh.

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I’m going to tell a story here. One for the ages. It’s the story of how some of my friends came to know me as Peppers. It’s the stuff legends are made of.

I’m not kidding. This is the story that my friends tell new members of our circle. This is the story my sister will tell my children and my grandchildren and generations from now they will tell this story with pride, knowing their great great great great grandma Debbie was one fierce bitch.

I was 23 and dating a man named R. We had been dating for about 3 weeks and, from what I remember, everything was going pretty okay with the budding relationship. I don’t remember him being too weird or anything like that. Normal guy who liked to drink and have a great time.

So, one night we went to an old haunt of mine. Back in those days I was a force of nature. A party girl. A vixen. A temptress. Anyhow, I had haunts and I was well known.

Back to…we’re at one of my favorite bars in Philly. I remember that a few of his friends were with us and we were having fun. After about an hour there, I noticed that a few of my friends had come in and sat down at a table across the bar. These were a group of gay men I lovingly called, The Fudge Pack. Yeah, I was good enough friends with them to call them that. I think they would have skinned anyone calling them that outside the group. You know what I mean?

I get up when I see them and run over to give hugs and kisses. I loved these guys. I bullshitted with them for a while and then went back over to my table. R asked me who those guys were. I told him they were friends. R didn’t say anything else, so I thought it was the end of the conversation.

Fast forward a few hours. We went back to his apartment and I walked into his living room laughing about something. When I turned around to look at him, BAM!!!!! He punched me. Hard. Like I was a man. I hit the floor, dazed and more than a bit scared. After a while I got up and he was sitting calmly on a chair watching TV. I got myself up onto the couch and he asked me if I knew why he hit me. I told him I didn’t. He informed me that because I was ‘his girl’ that from this point on he would be the only person I knew, anywhere, and that there will be no more talking to other men. I told him that the men I talked to that night were gay and therefore no threat to him, but he only asked me if I wanted to get hit again.

I finally decided to agree with him, if only so that I could get out of there in one piece. I didn’t want to be beaten within an inch of my sanity again. Once in one’s life is more than enough. I finally did leave his place and while I was driving home, I devised of a plan that would make me a legend in my friends eyes.

I woke up the next morning to a terribly bruised face. This only made me more determined to seek revenge. I got my keys and went to the grocery store. As I walked up and down the aisles, I debated calling the cops. The police are useless in these situations, I concluded. I wanted R to remember me forever. I wanted to mark him and hurt him so deeply that he would be afraid to hit another woman again. I wanted him to be petrified of me.

I bought 3 habanero peppers, a bottle of massage oil, and a box of rubber gloves.

I put the gloves on and cut the habaneros. I then dumped the peppers, seeds and all, into a saucepan with the whole bottle of oil. I warmed the oil for about 45 minutes, until I was sure that it was infused with the habanero’s heat. I then put this mixture in a container and let it sit for two weeks.

During those two weeks, I was pretty busy so avoiding R was easy. I saw him a couple times during my breaks at work and stuff, but we weren’t alone. Finally, when I thought it was time, I called R and told him I wanted to take our relationship to the next level…that I wanted to make up for being so thoughtless and stupid when I left him to talk to my friends.

He was thrilled by this. Not 1 minute after I hung up the phone was I in the kitchen straining the oil and putting it back in the original ‘Massage Oil” bottle. I dressed sexy and off I went…with my oil and gloves.

As we were getting hot and heavy, I whispered that I wanted to give him an erotic massage. He was excited by this and laid down on his bed. I put the gloves on and he asked me what they were for. I acted bored and told him that I didn’t like having the oil all over my hands, “I find it irritates my skin” is what I said exactly.

I smiled as I poured about half the bottle of habanero infused oil over his penis and then I started rubbing it in, concentrating on getting it right in his urethra. It took about 10 seconds for the pain to register and by that time I had the rest of the oil all over his balls and up his asshole. Through his screaming he was calling me every curse word one can think of, but I just laughed.

I asked him over and over again if it hurt. His penis had turned a nasty shade of red and he was hoarse from screaming. I leaned over him and told him that this is what he gets for hitting me for no god damn fucking reason and that I hope the next time he even considers hitting a woman to think twice because I might not be the most fucked up woman he ever meets.

And then I left.

I wish I could feel bad for what I did, but I don’t. He deserved it. I heard he had pain in his nether regions for days. I never saw him or heard from him again.

And that’s why my friends call me Peppers.

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It’s always the same. As soon as I heal inside and am ready to go out into the world of dating, several things happen that knock the reluctance back into me. This weekend, two very small and simple things happened. Two things that might seem like nothing to another person, but the sheer arrogance and audacity displayed in these events has annoyed me to the point where I’m just not interested in dealing with men right now.

Now, we all know about the special retard that misread my email and thought I was in love with him. He believed this so fiercely that he even emailed me lyrics to a fucking song like some kind of syphilis-deteriorated brained dumbass. This, I suppose, was the prelude.

Saturday morning I got up and was enjoying my morning coffee. I was deep into Food Network programming when the phone rings. It’s about 10 AM at this point. I look at my caller id and realize what number it is. I have seen this number about 100 times before and I got angry.

The backstory is this…I used to do the whole internet dating thing. Had an ad on the Salon personals and met lots of men. I gave my phone number out and talked to some of these guys before meeting up with them. I haven’t looked at the Salon personals in over a year. My story of irritation with all things with a penis revolves around two men in particular.

Scary Stalker #1 is married. After finding this out, I really had no interest in him. He seemed nice, but something told me there were things not right with him. He comes to Philly a lot, lives in Hoboken, and wanted to meet up. My gut told me not to. I mean, he was married. This was 3 fucking years ago.

This freak has been calling me ever since. We have never met. Let me repeat that. I first met him through the internet 3 years ago and we have never met. Yet, he seems to think it’s okay to call me repeatedly. He’s called me at work. He even got my new work number by looking up my company and calling the main switchboard. Fucking scary.

I’ve tried to blow him off. I’ve tried to be nice. I’ve ignored his calls and emails. I thought he would have given up by now. I mean, he never met me. He doesn’t know me. What is up with the constant calling? Seriously. It’s fucking scary. This man has called me over 10 times at my work number.

And he’s fucking married…..yeah, let’s not forget this.

Anyhow, after ignoring that call, I get settled down deeper in the couch and turn on a movie. I’m ready for a very lazy morning. Around 11:30 AM my phone rings again.

Backstory on Scary Stalker #2…um, met him online and gave him my number. Again…3 years ago. 3 FUCKING YEARS. 3 fucking years. After talking to him a few times, I just wasn’t feeling it. Mostly because he told me that he was seeing someone, but still wanted to talk to me. Story of my fucking life. The last time I spoke to him was over a year ago and I just went cold talking to him. I just didn’t feel anything. Cold. I never returned or answered any more of his calls.

And yet, there he was calling me. Why? That’s what I’m thinking. And he called again on Sunday too. Doesn’t ever leave a message. Just fucking calls. I HAVE NEVER MET HIM, WE WERE NEVER IN A RELATIONSHIP, I SPOKE TO HIM ON THE FUCKING PHONE A COUPLE OF TIMES. Fucking hell.

The fact that these two men could think of nothing better to do than call a woman they spoke with telephonically a few times years ago is kind of sad. But, it’s also the arrogance of these gestures that have left me thoroughly pissed. What did they expect me to do? Fall all over myself in ecstasy and adoration?

And here I am again….dreading dating and dealing with men who seem to think that we women are awestruck at your giving us a moments attention.


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Well, I suppose it’s only fair that I tell you the reason for posting those lyrics. It’s not what you think. Not even close.

You see, and I’m going for the abbreviated version because I’m so fucking pissed, a friend of a friend of a friend took something I wrote in an email the wrong way. A bunch of my friends were emailing each other to pass the day and he was part of it. Soooo, I replied to something he wrote and he decided I was in love with him.

Yeah, let that one wash over you.

Talk about thinking highly of oneself, huh?

Apparently, he thinks that all of the times I’ve been in his presence I’ve been in total awe of him. I’ve only seen him a few times. He has been to a few dinners, but I’ve never really given him much thought.

Until last week.

I can’t imagine how one could think someone is in love with them over one smartass email I sent. Maybe he forgot that he wasn’t the only one receiving that email.

He then started emailing and texting my friend about me. How he would date me, but it will never be love. This all ended with him emailing me the lyrics to that song, I’m Not In Love, and a stupid ass email about my love for him.

I ended up giving him a piece of my mind on Monday night. So much drama. I’m not even interested in talking about it anymore. Why does this shit happen to me? Where are the normal people?


Stella’s eye is acting up again. I put a call in to the vet tonight and I have an appointment for tomorrow morning. They want to run some tests and give her a shot of antibiotics. This shit is seriously driving me insane. I don’t have the kind of money to keep sending her to the vet every 2 weeks. This will be my 4th appointment in 6 weeks for the same fucking thing. Oy!


You’ll notice that I took down the blog to help that homeless woman and her dogs. We can’t find the woman. I found out she’s out of her mind on drugs and that she’s using the dogs for sympathy. I’ve spoken with several police officers who know her and they said that if anything happens to her, they know of several people willing to take the dogs.

I feel like a real fool for getting sucked in the way I did. I should have known better. But, I just wanted to help her. We did help her and the dogs though. We bought food and water and gave her money and clothes. At least that’s something.


I’ve started plans on starting a vegetable garden in my backyard next year. I think if I grow my own vegetables I’ll feel better. Like I’m using the earth for something. I know I’m a dork. I also joined a nature club in my area. I’m really excited about going on some nature walks. We have a huge bird population here, that’s right…New Jersey, and I want to see as much as I can. I love birds of prey, so it would be cool to see some hawks or eagles.


I took two laxative tablets tonight. I haven’t had a good poop since Saturday. It’s just not right. I usually poop twice a day, at least. So, I’m not feeling like myself. I need to have a day of pooping. Seriously. A whole day. I’m backed up and it ain’t good.


Ann Coulter said the following….

“If we took away women’s right to vote, we’d never have to worry about another Democrat president. It’s kind of a pipe dream, it’s a personal fantasy of mine, but I don’t think it’s going to happen. And it is a good way of making the point that women are voting so stupidly, at least single women. It also makes the point, it is kind of embarrassing, the Democratic Party ought to be hanging its head in shame, that it has so much difficulty getting men to vote for it. I mean, you do see it’s the party of women and ‘We’ll pay for health care and tuition and day care — and here, what else can we give you, soccer moms?’”

I hate this woman. Seriously. I want to know what the fuck happens to you as a human being to make you hate your own kind so much. If she was lying in an alley being gang-raped by sadistic serial killers, I would have to pause to contemplate helping her or not. I probably would because I’m the type of woman who would love to have a little piece of shit like her in my debt. Hmmm, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Ann, you have scorned me. You have given those uptight rich masogonist white men you are on your knees serving. You don’t deserve your uterus, clitoris, or tits. It’s not womankind’s fault your face looks like a dirty dried up cunt. I have proof, see below.

Sorry…you know, I was going to put a picture of her on here, but I don’t want her gangbanged looking face on here.


I’m out. Cross your fingers that I have a good day of pooping. And I hope never to write a sentence like that again.

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There’s no radio show tonight. I’m not feeling the radio show right now. I might do it every other week or something. Who knows?

So much to talk about and I have no idea where to start?

On Saturday, my sister told me her husband said he didn’t love her anymore. He said that they have no marriage because they don’t have sex. He thinks that sex is 95% of what a marriage is. He told her that my mother doesn’t really care about her and that my sister is jealous of his relationship with his mother. I want to kick him in the balls. I want to give him a rectal exam with his toothbrush and then make him use it. I want to rip his eye socket out and piss in the hole.

I hate him.

Look on this blog and you will see examples of his being a complete fucking prick. A big prick without a prick. I’m trying to get her a job with my company so that her move back home isn’t so stressful. Right now, they’re going to try counseling. I don’t think it will work (which is why I’m trying to get her a job here), but I’ll just sit back and be supportive. It’s all I can do.

Speaking of assholes, Mullet Man has gotten a restraining order on his ass for threatening my downstairs neighbor, Barb, and her new man. Oh, and for taking shit out of the yard and breaking it. Oh, and for coming over unannounced. Oh oh, and for coming in the house and dumping out the new man’s dresser drawers and closet and screaming at Barb. The police were called and his ass is grass. I was told to call 911 if I see him around here. Drama drama drama.

Oh there’s more….sit down and stay a while.

My grandmother is having surgery tomorrow to remove infected tissue in her elbow. The infection has moved into her bloodstream, so time is of the essence. My grandmother is in horrible health, so this isn’t a good thing. Fingers crossed.

I’m not even close to being finished yet.

I have broken out in a mysterious rash again. Allergic reaction to something. Am I allergic to the world? I took some Benedryl and have rubbed disgusting hydrocortisone ointment on my legs. I hope it eases my skin. I’m severely allergic to mold and I think I’m having a reaction to being in my friend’s house. She’s disgustingly filthy. I could feel the mold. Why did I stay there for as long as I did? I may need to call the doctor is I don’t feel better.

Ready for more? I’m only getting warmed up.

Stella Marie’s eye was completely better. Or so I thought. Monday night, I noticed it looking a bit wonky. I called the vet and they said to start smearing the ointment on her eye again. I did that and last night her other eye started looking bad. Yep. Conjunctivitis in both eyes. So much fun.

I took her to the vet tonight, third Wednesday in a row, and the vet gave me stronger ointment and more pills. Hopefully this works. I’m worried sick.

Oh, another $75 too. I may need to start collecting donations for my own babies. It’s only a matter of time before Roslin gets conjunctivitis. It’s highly contagious.

Are you ready for more?

While I was at the vet tonight, about 20 minutes, my neighbor in the house behind me shot himself. I was driving down the main street and saw every cop car in our town at his house along with 2 ambulances.

BJ, the old lady next door, told me that she was over at Al’s house for dinner at 7 and left around 7:30. Right after she left another neighbor, Judy, heard Al and his wife arguing very loudly and violently. When Judy got up to see what was going on she heard a big bang. Al’s wife was taken to the hospital in an ambulance.

Yeah, I know. Crazy.

That’s all for now. Unless, a comet lands on the house.

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This guy…

oh, it gets better…

no no, there’s more…

and the scariest one…

drumroll please

No, I have to go put drops in my eyes because they are burning from this mess. He has no friends, you know that? Honestly, if I saw him coming at me in the street my crotch would sew itself shut from the horror. Ew. He looks like he likes to have someone poo on him. And where the hell is his penis? Just saying.


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Day two of kitty in the bathroom vs. Stella Marie was stressful. Holy fucking shit, my cat is pissed. She’s been hissing and growling and attacking me. We’ve come to a peaceful agreement, I won’t touch her and she won’t hiss at me. I’m hoping this only lasts a little longer and I have my sweetheart back. Roslin remains clueless and cute.

I went to a fun place today called Cowtown. It’s basically a flea market. It’s a place where white trash and ghetto threw up and smeared itself together. Like the Jerry Springer mall. It’s fucking awesome.

We get there and all I want is some veggies. Many of the local farmers have stands there selling their delicious goodies. I got Jersey tomatoes and some fresh peaches, one of which I devoured immediately and it was gorgeous.

I wanted to go into the porn stall, 3 movies for $10…yippee. I’m not a huge porn fan, I just like to see what’s out there and maybe find something hot. But, all of the movies looked like white trash and ghetto threw up and smeared itself together. Um, no.

In addition to selling all assorted types of shit, they also sell lingerie at this place. It’s really trashy, but again…awesome. So, I was walking by one of the little stalls selling especially trashy lingerie (I almost bought the most obnoxious cone bra there, but alas they didn’t have my size…damn my huge boobs) and I saw the greatest sign ever written.

There on the mannequin written in black marker on a fluorescent yellow sign was, “We carry men’s thongs!”

Thank god someone does.

I’m so happy that they felt the need to reassure potential customers about this. The mannequin was wearing a red tarty looking outfit, nipple-less and crotchless and riddled with lace and rhinestones. I wonder if they had a matching pair to this red outfit. I’d be over the moon about that.

I would have taken a picture, but I left my cell phone at my mother’s house because I’m an idiot and forgetful and a mess.

In other news, I want to say thank you to the guy who emailed me video of his girlfriend giving him head with a request for me to critique her technique because, when you come right down to it, I just don’t get irritated enough.

Eh, really? Does she even know you sent a private video of her performing on you? She had better know. So, if you’re the guy who sent it and you’re reading this…go tell her. I’ll wait.

Toe tapping.

Checking nails.

Toe tapping.

Does she know? Good. Now, I’ll give you my critique.


Basically, you were just masturbating with her face. If you did that to me, I’d have unsheathed my teeth or pinched your balls. Did you just cringe? Good, cause I cringed watching that video.

Dude, let her pleasure you or get blowup doll or the Real Doll. I hate guys like you.

That’s all my dears. I’m going to bed. Yup. Home and bed to early on a Saturday night. I rock.

Oh, and because I’m such a blog whore…I created some T-shirts, mugs, aprons, and other shit that advertise my blogs. Take a look at my sidebar, you can’t miss it. I’m kind of ashamed of myself, but not really. You know you want to wear me.


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This weekend was weird. Yeah….

Friday, I took the afternoon off to babysit baby Colin. He was so good and delightful. I put some classical music on and he loves it. He was smiling and gooing and gaaing.

My sister was on a job interview and we’re pretty sure she got the job. The interview was about 20 minutes long and my sister said it was the weirdest interview ever. The guy had no questions and had no idea what the job was. He said, “I guess I’m the supervisor so yeah.”

Here are some Colin pictures:

My sister and I hung out at my house for a while, and then we bought groceries to cook my mom a nice dinner to celebrate her not having cancer. While we were cooking, my two other stinkies came over—Morgan and Connor. Conner didn’t want me to take his picture, but Morgan (the star) wanted a picture holding Colin. I took two.

Yeah, she’s giving him rabbit ears.

After dinner, my mom wanted to give the baby a bath so my sister and I went out to get ice cream cones. It’s been a long time since we were chilling alone together. We were cracking each other up. She dropped me off at my house around 11 PM. It was a pretty good day.

Yesterday, I got up early and cleaned. I went for a run and afterwards I walked over to the lake with a book and started reading under a big tree. It was so nice and quiet. After about an hour, I see this tall guy coming down to where I was. He looked like Harry Connick Jr., without the big cowboy hat and southern accent. He had a fishing pole and asked me if I minded him fishing near me. I said no. God, his ass was perfection.

So, he’s fishing and I’m reading and he starts talking to me about how he just moved to this town. He said he’s never lived in such a quiet town. We had a really nice conversation. After about another hour, I got up because my sister texted me that she was coming over for lunch. I said bye and the guy asked me for my phone number. I was surprised and gave it to him.

My sister got to my house as I was walking up. We lugged the baby up the stairs to my apartment. I made lunch as the baby was nestled onto my bed for his nap. We ate and talked. Colin woke up and we tried to get a picture of him to smile, but everytime I put the camera up to snap a picture he’d stop smiling. Here are more pictures of the stinky.

My sister left around 4 and I took a nap. It was a gorgeous nap. I woke up and decided I needed to go grocery shopping because I ran out of cereal. Yes, I quit the gluten free shit. It was crap. It’s a long story and too boring. Yes, way more boring than this post. Hard to believe right.

Well, here’s where the weekend turns weird.

I was picking out some endive, when this guy comes up next to me. It’s Harry Connick Jr.-looking fishing guy. I laughed and we talked a bit. He said he was in a hurry and I said I was too, so I continued my shopping. I got in line and as I was putting my stuff up on the counter, I see him get in line…..with a woman….and she’s wearing a wedding band….and they have diapers in their cart.

Deep breath.


I give up. I really do.

Steam coming out of my ears.

He sees me and I give him the finger and mouth fuck you. I got home and made dinner. And I got drunk. Seriously drunk.

I did nothing today. Oh, I made lavender shortbread cookies. See….

And that’s it.

Fucking men. Why do I let that man ruin my weekend? I know it’s insignificant, and yet here I am still fuming. So much so, that it drove me to bake to take my mind off of castrating that asswipe.

Can I admit that I actually wanted him to call me after the grocery store? Just to tell him off. How sad is that!!!!

I need a man. Not a bad boy. Just a nice one with an edge. So hard to find. Fuck.

I’ll leave you now with pictures of Stella Marie cause she’s super pretty.


Oh, and I updated all of my blogs this weekend. I know. It’s amazing. I’m going to try to be better at updating more regularly.

More kisses….

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