Inner Thighs 'n Things

Well alert the church elders, it's 1000 motherfucking degrees outside and my inner thighs have actually lit on fire due to a chaffing related incident. Truth is, summer months are a real bitch for those who enjoy meals and happen to have been blessed with the pleasure of losing weight all over their entire god damn body EXCEPT FOR THEIR INNER THIGHS. (It's me I'm referring to, just in case you're an idiot).

Actually, come to think of it, the last time I wore shorts was in the summer of '87 and I just found them, located right up my ass. One minute I'm wearing shorts and the second I start walking... poof just like that, my inner thighs hoover them right up into my lady bits. I'm always too nervous to wear shorts particularly in public since I'm so afraid I'll be watching the news and they'll have a segment on the obesity epidemic and they'll feature the lower half of my body on it. You know what I'm talking about? Anytime the news has a story on weight they always have these sneaky clips of people walking down the street, but they only feature the lower half of their bodies so they remain anonymous. WHERE THE FUCK ARE THESE CAMERAS HIDING? I'm sure as shit I'd recognize my own ass eating my shorts.

Anyway, I could probably write an entire post on my adventures of my shorts disappearing into my body,  but I have more pressing issues such as  How many calories are in meatballs? Is that a rash? Oh I totally shouldn't have google image searched that. I wonder if I can pay my rent in high fives this month? How much do stamps cost? Should I be an organ donor? When will boneless, skinless chicken thighs finally go on sale? Where are all my condoms? There's no way I slept with that many people since New Years Eve! Wait, when was my last period? I should probably watch 'I Didn't Know I was Pregnant 'on TLC, those women are smart! I wonder if I wrote a cheque for 1 million dollars to myself and deposited it, how long would it take the bank to notice? I should probably get orthotics. Whoa! Why the fuck are orthotics so expensive? I'd rather have fallen arches and a bad attitude. Why do I always have to spell out WED-NES-DAY when I'm writing it? What if a plane crashed into my apartment right now? I'm in my underwear and they'd find me in my underwear beneath the rubble. I should put pants on. Man, I really want Kraft Dinner. I wonder if that Asian lady at the nail salon was really talking about me while she did my nails. She seemed so angry. I don't know what I did. I totally should have shaved my legs but I'm just so lazy. Maybe I should get a motorcycle. I feel like women who ride motorcycles are super bad-ass and respected. Mmmm Tostitos and salsa would be soooo tasty right now.  DATING. Yup, my 97 attempts at taking a hiatus from the online dating world have failed miserably, (and I always need someone to sext with) because I get lonely rotting on my couch from Monday-Thursday. US SPINSTERS HAVE A LOT OF TIME ON OUR HANDS, I TELL YA. And truthfully, there are only so many motivational quotes I can find on Pinterest that keep me from sticking my head in my oven on a daily basis.

My mother on the other hand, thinks I date way too much and since my father passed away, her and I have been spending an inordinate amount of time together, so she has plenty of time to provide me with a running commentary on my love life. Wait- can I call getting dick pics from strangers on the Internet a 'love life?' Yes, yes I can. I for one call it flattering that men go out of their way to give themselves a hard on after looking at my profile pictures and reading about how I'd like to have a family and settle down one day...(And it's no secret that talking about the future always makes men's penises erect), so I'm assuming my profile gives them a stiffy in a jiffy and they need to grab their iPhones STAT to snatch a glorious picture of their little one eyed monster, and make sure they get it to my inbox ASAP!

Okay, so back to my mom thinking I'm a whore. A few weeks ago I was telling my mom I had a couple dates coming up and she looked at me and rolled her eyes with complete disgust, "Amanda, you know, those men on the computer are going to see your picture and think 'oh there's that cyber-slut Amanda'. And they'll probably start putting your name on bathroom walls and write 'for a good time call this girl."

 

Now I don't want to brag here, but how many of you have been lucky enough to have your own mother call you a slut? Don't be jealz.

 

Ugh.

 

The latest scandal/saga/nightmare from a suitor in the online dating community is brought to you by the jackass below, who chose his ass as his profile picture. Literally...his ass. And you know what's crazy? So did I!!!  #destiny. It's just too serendipitous for words, really.

(That's a pic of cottage cheese/which also doubles as my ass. However, I have been doing some squats lately only to find my cottage cheese is being lifted higher. #YOLO.

Anyhoodle, let's take a look at the message that launched me into the fiery pits of hell one summer's eve.

#blessed

 

I was also shocked to learn we were a 0% match.

Oh and let's not forget about this jerk off as well ...Essentially, he asked me if I sold hard dicks, so naturally I had to respond.

(That was a Breaking Bad reference, so no need to alert the Feds, I don't sell meth).

Omg. His hilarity was just too much for me to handle, so I ate a jar of Nutella and slammed my head off my coffee table to curb the laughter. 

And just when I thought love was dead...

 

 

I've decided that writing doesn't quite articulate how I feel after this 2 year long dating spree, so I made a video which captures my truth.

 

 

Until next time, bitches.

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