Mel

{wetter is better} Single Ladies Love Lube Too (sung to the tune of “Naughty Girls Need Love Too”)

This post brought to you by Astroglide… and probably TMI. When two people move in together (or start sleeping together), there is a MESS of randomly-sized condoms, lubes and lotions, things that make you tingle weirdly, things that are flavored (yuck)… found in one another’s sex drawers (oh c’mon, you ALL have one). Let me tell you how AWKWARD it is going through items that your...

Mel

First! I’m having a lot of ‘em in this city.

First things first, enter my November giveaway for a $75 gift certificate towards your purchase at one of the awesome sites within CSN Stores. This post AKA: football and ridiculous shoe choices. A couple of weeks ago, we participated in our first Steelers tailgate since the move. I only go for the party. And to laugh and roll my eyes at girls who wear leggings-are-not-pants and five-inch heels to a...

Mel

Thank Josh Groban, No Sweetest Day.

Independent survey results show: ‘Burghers do not celebrate Sweetest Day (including one, “What the frick is Sweetest Day?” Best answer I could receive). Hopefully these needless card company-created holidays — apparently designed for Ohio and popular for Chicago residents, which is technically a bunch of ex-pat Ohioans anyway — will not cross outside the state border to its...

Mel

Exploring Pittsburgh in my blue shoes!

I already had a friend who lives in Pittsburgh, prior to my moving here. I can’t tell you how nice it is having someone to recommend random places for services that I need or restaurants and bars in which to get drunk (classily, of course). Without being all strange-eyed, wondering why I’m asking if Pittsburgh has anything that resembles a penis. So, we had a little girls night on Tuesday. She...

Mel

What I wear to look hot. AKA: when it’s 90 degrees

Check out this uber-cute black dress from China. I apparently only have luck finding the missing pieces of my wardrobe from online shops abroad. I mean, seriously, do you know how hard it was to find an ALL BLACK and ALL COTTON tank dress that didn’t cost three months of unemployment? Plus, I am a SUCKER for dresses with pockets. This is total love on a hanger right here. Paired with a long, cotton...

Mel

Penis and Roller Derby

After hobnobbing Saturday Night post-Cavs festies, it’s been realized that for the last month or so, my blog has circumvented only two topics: penis and roller derby. For the time being, I can’t promise that it won’t stop, so why not supplement the topics at hand: BALLS. They need lovin’ too… Hence, my brazen call for action for the Preterm Access Fund {CLICK THAT FOR MY...

Mel

Feeling nostalgic about dressing up.

Remember when prom dresses used to be fun and age-appropriate? This season of dresses is once again, way too sexy for 16-year-olds. Call me prudish at my ripe age of 32, but what is the advantage of looking like a hooker? Supposedly whoring yourself out to be able to pay $400 for homecoming dresses. Dresses today appear to be too much for a high school girl. Most seem to be more appropriate for black tie...

Mel

Cleveland Lust Survey

Cleveland Scene Magazine posted a survey to learn all about your sexy, sexy time (and the people within it). Dare to answer honestly? I’m super curious as to how other Clevelanders would respond, especially to the “cheating” question. Oh, Scene… just make me a judge already. There are prizes for awesome answers — but NOBODY will be identified in print or online, so pay no mind...

Mel

Resolutions. Kind of.

I have some REAL resolutions that are in a draft post right now, but here’s something to hold you over until some serious stuff posts: 1. I have a cooking resolution, although I’m unsure how to fit it in. My boyfriend cooks almost every night, BUT there’s a chance I may have to cook a few things for myself a couple nights a week. I cooked for myself for years, but I really don’t do...

Mel

Random awesomeness. And awesomeness means nudity, of course.

Before I head to vacation, I MUST tell you another awesome story of accidental nudity. After driving to-and-from South Bend in less than 24 hours to spend New Year’s Eve with our friends (and, let’s face it, Czech Absinthe), we stayed in for the remainder of the weekend to prepare for our upcoming vacation. So, on Saturday night, while packing (and AB making an AWESOME “New...

Mel

Funniest. Thing. EVER.

AB and I stopped into the amazing Flower Child today for a bit of gift giving inspiration (and of course, wanting to buy every houseware item in the store; AB wants a bongo, but knows why he cannot have one). I could browse the vintage ornament collection for hours — and I will depending on how long the decorations remain up after the holidays — his attention span was not as great as mine. And...

Mel

I dream about cookies. Crumbly bits.

Eternally* I will wonder if there were truly cookie crumbs down my top while I slept. I vaguely recall a mid-slumber freakout of “something” crawling around in my cleavage. Dream? Coincidence that I baked new cookies? One can never be too certain. *By eternal, I mean, next Spring, when I decide to finally vacuum because there are now ANTS in the bed. Although I did dream vividly about Drug Mart...

Mel

A (high maintenance) gift guide to your man whore.

I love my man whore. But after scrolling through his recommended gift guide, shit, he has, ahem, “expensive taste.” He’s a high maintenance ho! I mean that in the most affectionate way, of course. So, if you still do not know your man well enough for gift-giving practices (perhaps you should not look at this list because you should DEFINITELY not be spending this much on him), take a look...

Mel

Crazy Facebook Chick

Something very strange happened. Facebook, natch. There was some chick on my friend’s list, who I do not remember adding, who was obviously unfamiliar, and she messaged me through the site last week, notifying me of her pregnancy. I started with a “Yay! Congrats!” while I quickly tried to figure out who she was. I see we are connected through another good friend of mine, and dismiss it...

Mel

Sweet. Like cougars, but with teeth less sharp.

Yeah, yeah, hate. I read Dear Abby through Yahoo! Entertainment page every morning (because, what? newspapers? what are those?). At least I don’t read Perez Hilton or OK! Magazine. For seriously, I don’t get the obsession, as much as I don’t get the people who stand for hours outside the Hyatt Hotel in downtown anxiously waiting (and annoying me) for autographs when teams are in town....

Mel

May I borrow those?

Why on Earth would a stripper assume I like to cuddle after squishing her (ginormous) pillows into my face during a lap dance? Something about the manner of which my face scissored her cleavage? Did I nuzzle my head into her “shoulder” for too long? Perhaps I looked as though I needed a nap. I did leave abruptly because I was bored. It’s a usual Monday thought after the alcoholic haze...

Mel

What’s in the name: Mel?

On the day of my birth, I was to be: Melissa. The hospital had another thing coming, as five other Melissas were in the birth sanctuary that May 9. FIVE. So, my parents grabbed one of those baby name books, scanned the M’s, and came up with Melinda. Melinda. It is Greek for “Love Song.” I am neither Greek or a love song, but my favorite is “I’m All Out of Love” so guess...

Mel

GNO (and lesbians)

There haven’t been many nights where AB is not out with me, so when a Girls’ Night Out is planned… well, stupid things like me eating a piece of moldy bread with brown mustard smeared all over it at 2am are bound to happen. As much as I make favorable decisions when we’re out together, I am completely worthless in making careful decisions for myself. A friend-of-a-friend introduced...

Mel

Its ghost lives on… unless it’s in a vacuum cleaner bag.

I had a bit of time to write this afternoon, while I await a visitor (or is a coworker so much at ask?) to appear in the office to vacuum the giant hairy balls centipede underneath my desk. That I killed with Windex. His fault. He had a whole office to invade. He is the creature who so decided to crawl ever-so-close to my shoe. My cute little shoes that are never utilized to squoosh a bug. Never. Here are...

Mel

Cougar. Rawr!

I swear to Whomever/Whatever in the Heavens, I am getting seriously annoyed by the over-saturation of the word “cougar.” Cougars. It’s like we live in a fucking zoo. Why can’t I be a giraffe? You know, spotty. Graceful. All… Necky. Even being a Bison or something right now would be cool. But they save that cool shit for minor-league baseball team mascots. Women? We always have...