Straight Jackets on the Left, Meds to the Right

welcome-to-my-page

(ps…the sleeves tie in the back)

∼ the nasty wench ∼

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The Twiddle Muff Chronicles

cat-tushy-coaster

After the whole twiddle muff incident, things got worse.  This will make marginally more sense if you’ve read the “Words That Make Me Giggle” post…but not much more.      (Bonus points if you guessed that’s a cat ass coaster in the picture)

Knitting sounds like such an innocent past time.  Not so fast – who knew the yarn arts had a dark side, a “mature content” section?

Turns out knitters are weird folks.

Do you know there’s such a thing as vaginal knitting?  I’m not making this up…

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Words That Make Me Giggle

I love words, all kinds of words…but there is a special category of words that simply make me giggle.  Often it’s the double entendre, smacking of smutty undertones or sometimes they just sound silly.

My perennial favorite – labelopes.  Unless you deal with Purolator on a regular basis, you have no idea what I’m talking about.  Labelopes sounds like a genital reference…what, that’s just me?  I don’t think so.  Even my driver smirks and giggles if I have to ask for extra labelopes.  In case you’re curious, the official name of the peel and stick clear plastic pouches to attach your waybills to a Purolator shipment is labelope.  Now they could have called them pouches or something else, but nope.  I would have liked to be at the meeting where they were brain storming what to call those and a guy offered up “labelopes” and the rest said sure, that’ll work (I’m 100% sure this was a man’s idea).  Now, I love a good portmanteau (not wine, but I like wine too…and now I’m thirsty) so I get the whole label / envelope mashup, but that guy is probably still sitting back somewhere giggling, can’t believe anyone agreed to use it.  Probably same guy who came up with jackelope…he’s a bit of a douche. 

The first time I had to ask the driver if he had any of those clear pouches for the waybills, he said “Oh, you mean labelopes?” with a glint in his eye.  I had no idea if a) he was serious b) that’s what I wanted or c) I should be having this conversation with him.  I make a point of ordering them online so I don’t have to ask for them but the driver still smiles and raises an eyebrow when he drops them off….’cause I know and he knows, you know?

You think I’m making this up – nope, domestic and international:

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Cockwaffles…a girlfriend of mine shared this gem with me recently. 

I checked the Urban Dictionary (hey I research this shit) and a number of other sources to find out what it is supposed to mean as opposed to what I think it means ‘cause sometimes my own perception interferes with reality.  Sometimes.  Maybe.

The definitions run the gamut:

  1. profanity (really?) when fuck doesn’t quite capture the moment or you’re looking for something a little more creative or unique
  2. the incapacity for a man to retain an erection
  3. a bi-sexual man whom switches from male to female lovers
  4. a shmuck of the male gender
  5. a man who stops calling you with no explanation (also covered under #4)
  6. standing at a urinal with your member in hand all ready to go…and you can’t pee
  7. (spoiler alert, this one is particularly strange)…a man’s penis has been inserted into a waffle iron thus making his cock a waffle – usually happens when the man accidentally falls onto the table while making waffles and waffles his own penis (I hate when that happens) or when his wife realizes he’s been a huge douchebag demanding waffles and she clamps his penis in the waffle iron (a bit much but more believable than the self-inflicted version of the story).
  8. And finally, the very literal – a waffle in the shape of a cock. Sounds like a strange breakfast idea..but it does leave me wondering if you can actually buy a cockwaffle iron or if you are forced to pour your batter creatively to pull this one off.  Fuck that shit, Eggo should have cockwaffles in the freezer section.  I am totally writing to the Eggo people.

(still looking for a good cockwaffles illustration…stay tuned)

And the most recent word – “twiddle muff”.  It’s nearly impossible not to smile when you say twiddle muff.  Even if you don’t know what it is, it’s a fun word.  Now I’m all for having my muff twiddled when the opportunity arises and circumstances permit but, alas, that’s not what it means.  It’s so much more innocent than that and even a little bit sad.  A twiddle muff is actually a knitted muff (an actual muff, not a euphemism for the female anatomy….’cause what the hell would you do with a knitted vajayjay?) for elderly people dealing with the symptoms of dementia which apparently includes being very fidgety.  They are adorned inside and out with an assortment of baubles, buttons, etc to give them something to do with their hands to soothe them. 

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However (I keep telling you, I do my homework), there are knitted vaginas out there… although, I have no idea why.  So if your local nursing home puts out the call for twiddle muffs, make sure you are creating the correct muff.  While it might be mildly amusing to have a nursing home full of seniors fiddling with knit genitalia, it has the potential to be a little confusing and the grandchildren aren’t going to be allowed to visit Nana any more.

Just to clarify, this is a twiddle muff:

twiddle-muffs-3

these are not twiddle muffs:

(that being said, you are welcome to twiddle them if you so choose but maybe in the privacy of your own home, quite frankly I have no idea what the hell else you would do with them, they are at best strange decor…that is one scary ass cushion)

In the interest of fair play and sexual equality, you can also buy or make knit penises.  And I still have no idea why. 

I’m always a little surprised and occasionally confused when I google images for my posts.  Googling knit vaginas calls up a host of weird shit that people knit…including, well…shit.  Seriously, what’s wrong with people?  Why would anyone knit shit?  Maybe someone commented on an ugly scarf “you can’t knit shit”….dare accepted.  Ok, it makes a point – but a very weird, awkward point.  That’s no way to earn your Girl Guides craft badge (pretty sure the knit vagina or penis is also unlikely to qualify for a badge and may get you booted from the troop – but if you were going to leave anyway, may as well make it interesting).

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(ps…I’m aware that the shit appears to be crocheted as opposed to knitted, let it go)

∼ the nasty wench ∼

are there words that make you giggle?  feel free to share them in the comments section

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Personalized Plate?

Ministry of Transportation Clerk:  What would you like on your personalized plate?

Driver:  My name

my-name-plate

(think maybe someone skipped a step here, might want to be a little more specific next time….or not)

∼ the nasty wench ∼

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Poultry Fornication…or Romeo got penis juice on my last pair of lululemons

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There’s a reason I don’t write fiction…I couldn’t make this stuff up.

Princess is a character in my world who exists solely on privilege and entitlement.  I used to think that she was completely out of touch with reality but I’ve come to the conclusion that she’s merely out of touch with my reality and that’s enough to annoy the crap out of me.  I will give her credit for having achieved a level of oblivion that is nothing short of mind-boggling.  She was talking to me, as she tends to…unaware that I was plotting her untimely demise.  She’d marched into the office announcing that she’d done an hour and half of cardio the night before…then asked me if I knew how long an hour and a half of cardio takes…I’m going to go with an hour and a half…oh, wait a minute…nope, make that 90 minutes.

Go ahead, ask me something else…I’m on a roll …

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tomorrow cannot possibly be Monday

cant-be-monday-cat

Tomorrow cannot possibly be Monday…

(the official end of “no pants week”)

∼ the nasty wench ∼

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Ya, I don’t think so…

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Stopped in at a local job fair this afternoon with my son’s girlfriend when we wandered near a display from a school bus driving agency. 

Their rep says “Have you ever considered driving school bus?” 

My immediate reaction was “No, no I haven’t.  The idea of being trapped on a moving vehicle with 40 or 50 kids seems like a colossally bad idea to me, nope”.  My son’s girlfriend echoes my sentiments. 

Not to be discouraged, she hands me her card and says “just in case you change your mind”. 

Color me confused. 

“You did just hear me say that I can’t think of a worse idea than turning my back on a bus load of kids?”

She’s still determined to give me her card. 

So, let me get this straight, you would consider hiring me to shepherd a busload of kids to school despite the fact that I’ve just declared in a very public forum, using my outside voice, with witnesses that I can’t think of a worse job?   If circumstances in my life ever bring me to a place where I’m willing to reconsider your offer, it will be difficult to maneuver a bus ’cause I’ll be wearing a jacket with sleeves that tie in the back (and a kick ass sparkly purple helmet).

Exactly who are you turning down?

~ the nasty wench ~

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