#17 – Yes, that would be my ass.

As you gather a few years under your mortal belt, hopefully, you will begin to become more and more knowledgable about which of life events are worthy of being labeled “DEVASTATING”. Of course, when you are going through such calamities, these events inevitably feel overwhelming and quite permanent. But trust me, they usually are not.

So, cool your tits.

Yes, these things totally SUCK ASS, and I also, would rather not have to experience any of them as well, but such is life.

So, stand back and gain some fucking perspective. These moments are no more than mere blemishes on the ass that is your life. There are more serious issues than life zits….like hemorrhoids, herpes and/or warts!

Your healing is essentially up to you.

So, stop fucking picking.

And, just so you know, your ass will also grow, along with your perspective.

So, grow the fuck up, pull up those stretch pants, own that big zitty ass and just get on with it.



#18 – Oh relax, you won’t fucking melt.

I actually had a boyfriend who called female farts “dropping roses.” In the end, I just called him an asshole. In any case, I don’t know what drug his nose was on, but any fart I have and will drop most likely smells like something died in my ass.

No matter who you are dating, the older you get, farting and pooping become less of a traumatic event.

Except for men. For some reason, males tend to think that a female’s digested food is released from our anuses in small, fragrantly wrapped gift boxes, adorned with bows and bright colors. The irony here, is that many men would love to shove their penises up this small exit hole where their lady friend’s shit resides and yet they cannot even think about the idea of a woman taking a dump. Wha?

So let me be clear, because I don’t know about your asshole, but mine does not have corners or a prostate. My personal orifice is not built to accommodate the passage of a pointy box, bow or not. It can however pass:

  • pebble poops
  • long tube poops
  • big banana poops
  • long wet farts
  • gentle silent farts
  • powerful rancid farts

So men be warned, when you act offended by my natural processes….
– I will fart more often and in a closer proximate to you, just to bug the shit out of you…..Pun intended.
– I will leave the door open more while taking a dump, just to get a good laugh at your expense.
– I will talk more about events that occur in and around my ass, regularly, just to make you feel uncomfortable.

Yes, I am that ornery. Anyways, I am 42 years old and if I can’t let one rip without you changing your perception of me as a person then save us both some time and just go fuck yourself?……


Yes, Really.


#20 – Natural Selection

For women, one’s 20’s is about coming to terms with societal’s need for all females to accept and master their co-habitating/breeding timeline – aka – marriage before the age of 30. Eggs are fresh, hips are spry, boobs are still perky = it’s time to breed. Feel free to roll your eyes and disagree, but the expectation is still out there, it may be less spoken, but it is an implied pressure that is still alive and well amongst the human race….so don’t bother denying it and waste anymore of my fucking time arguing about it. As you reach your mid-20s, the pressure begins to solidify with the passing of each natural abortion your body puts you through, as each egg drops you are reminded…….your 30th birthday is coming – hurry the fuck up. Single friends start dropping like flies with engagements, parties, weddings, showers and babies. The monumental, wasteful and overly indulging events seem to inevitable feed into the increased amount of mental bullshit you keep talking yourself into enduring.

  • “Oh, he only does coke a few times a month.”
  • “I LOVE his family, so I can handle his insecure, irritating ass.”
  • “Sure, I’ll support him financially, he is working towards a fantastic career.”
  • “He is so close to his mother. I love that! They talk every day, it’s a good sign.”

However, when I hit 30, my bullshit meter officially peaked, and its maturation into a highly tuned tool I now refer to as my “3 month” cut off. Since adaptation can take many forms, I realize now at 42, my selective behaviors allowed me a better perspective to protect and respect myself from committing long term to the idiots and the unworthy, thus saving me from the inevitable divorces and custody battles imploding around me.

Throughout my years of dating and not “settling down” I have had numerous people tell me I am too picky. “Val you are too choosy. You are too difficult. You are judgemental.” But if you think about the actual term – settling – is not something I find myself excited to do, in any area of my life. I am on my 4th career. I have traveled all over the world. I have been so broke I’ve resorted to a diet of mac’n cheese and ramen – But it is all MY choice. It’s all been on my terms.

Sexual selection is a “special case” of natural selection. Sexual selection acts on an organism’s ability to obtain (often by any means necessary!) or successfully copulate with a mate. After all, what female Mormon cricket could resist the gift of a juicy sperm-packet?   Many of the things that impress us most in nature are thought to be adaptations. Behavior can also be shaped by natural selection. Behaviors such as birds’ mating rituals, bees’ wiggle dance, and humans’ capacity to learn language also have genetic components and are subject to natural selection.

To prove my point, take the male blue-footed booby, whose mating ritual is to exaggerate foot movements to attract a female. Really? A high kick? That’s it? That’s all you got? Oh dear little Mr. Booby, it’s gonna take much more than fancy, Michael Jackson-like foot moves to attract this female boob….blue-footed or not.