Mel

A Rant: why Content Sites anger me…

I was notified of this link through a sister derby league via their Facebook page: The Odd Sport of Roller Derby First things first… odd? What’s “odd” here is your review of roller derby. You’ll see by the several dozen “thumbs down” and comments from other passionate roller derby ladies that I am not alone in feeling angered about this article. I have so many...

Mel

PT: Of ancient artifacts

Excavations can be fun! Err… don’t Google that anywhere near the words “sex,” “penis,” or “flashlight.” Trust me. Em & Lo gave me this historical piece of penis today: Ancient Dildo Dug Up Huh. Imagine that. There was a purpose for small penises… in the years before Christ. Live Science discovers more ancient phallic relics....

Mel

Best email while on vacation!

This time next Sunday, many of you will be official members of the Burning River Roller Girls!! For seriously, I am SO excited and SO ready. Nearly six months of training in wRECk and SOZA Fitness and with some of the best Fresh Meat girls — and the moment is finally here. I’ll be gunning for longest commuter because, well… you know. That Pittsburgh thing.

Mel

And don’t let the door hit you.

As some of you have realized over the last couple days, AB & I are moving. Moving away from the annoyances of Cadillac Ranch on college ID night. Moving away from the distraction of the seemingly never-ending, frantic sounds of the Sax Guy. And UGH those damn honking buses on the Healthline. Moving away from our gorgeous, wall-envied many-windowed corner loft on East 4th. And the scary, scar-producing...

Mel

PT: Animals love oral too

Scientists discover that bats have oral sex. While that headline in itself should be intriguing, the fact that bats have oral sex DURING PENETRATION just blew my fucking mind. Must. Continue. Yoga. Apparently this is done to prevent the spread of STDs. Of bats. That’s what you get for being polygamous. Regardless of your protection of choice, remember the fellatio motto, dear female bats:...

Mel

PT: Missing

No, not me, silly hard-ons, King Tut. As in, King Tut’s penis. It is missing. Have you seen it? I mean, I don’t know about you, but that’s the first thing I want to do when an old crush dies — I want to see his penis. Partly because he never let me see it; more so because What Happens to the Penis When You Die? I found an answer to the latter portion of that question at...

Mel

But you should see how I order a pizza!

I take the prize in many areas for Best Girlfriend Ever and would probably even be a good choice for a housewife, if that was truly my calling — you know, save for my arachnophobia and the watering of plants above my reach and my preference for truffles, not Bon Bons. But what lends very little to my contribution to a successful relationship is my cooking. My parents are good cooks. They seem to...

Mel

Vacation Notice

For my clients (and people stalking me): I will be on vacation from Thursday, July 22 through Monday, July 26. During this time I will have access to emails via iPhone for any important matters, but will not be “on the clock” for projects during this time. Please understand that I will not have access to my server or its documents and relative work files while I am away. Any projects currently...

Mel

PT: Holidays and Hot Dogs

All the thanks to today’s Penis Tuesday goes to my mother. Yes, my mother. Many cheers to the woman who made this perverted mind all possible — and prompted by a Facebook comment, nonetheless.  Our regular family summer road trips were to Conneaut Lake Park (in Pennsylvania, our favorite amusement spot as kids). We were season pass holders, went camping, and even as really young kids, we went...

Mel

I am not ignorant.

I think I’ve surprised myself as to how long I could stay mad today. And the surliness is beginning to strain the muscles in my forehead. So, I think I’m done now. You know, for sake of  the lessened elasticity and propensity for wrinkles in my 30+ face and all, not because I am not still angry. That is all.

Mel

Shopping for things I don’t need. Like, compliments.

I keep my relationship fresh by consistently updating my underwear drawer. Because of what derby and daily workouts has done to my body, once the boyfriend has returned from his weekly travels, it starts the “No Pants Weekends.” It only works while I can physically stomach the sight of my ass and legs. Or I use this all as an excuse to get sucked into Gabriel Brothers with my sister for three...