Dating is so Obnoxious

written March 5 2011
In my (almost) year of being single this is what I've learned.

When you wear beautiful expensive lingerie you're jinxing yourself... No ones ever gonna see it.
Wear the underwear with the hole and BAM! You'll have to pray he rips your clothing off fast enough to not notice your trashy wall mart purchase.

Clean your home, buy the aphrodisiac scented candles, elegant bedding, and matching towels.
By the time laundry day comes and you're sleeping on that fuzzy wolf blanket that you bought as a joke at the gas station on your last road trip, the candles are nothing but a blackened wick in a puddles of wax that clearly can no longer cover the smell of your wet dog... And it took not one but four of those nice new matching towels to soak up all the mud that so called adorable dog dragged into the house after that late night walk..... Then, and only then, will the stars align and that irresistible hunk of a man will come knocking at your door.

I remember that time we ran to my truck to escape the warm spring rain and I couldn't find my keys... You pushed me up against my wet truck, my back soaked, but I didn't care. As our bodies pressed into one another, Your hands tangled in my hair, we kissed Under the moonlight... It could have been perfect.... but our teeth kept banging into eachother like teenagers stealing kissed in your moms basement... Deadening the spontaneous romance in mere seconds.

Cupid is a sadistic bitch in bed with Murphy's law. My love life is merely a comedy show meant to entertain Aphrodite as she looks down from the heavens.

The Happy Couples Kiss

Written Jan 1 2011

3 2 1 Happy New Year! The happy couples kiss. Most of my co workers are surprised when their parners sneak up to the bar to celebrate with them as they work. An indescribable joy fills the room. "Where's Your Man?" they ask, as I walk through the crowd. I slip into the shadows backstage, taking cautious deep breaths so no one will hear my sadness. There in the darkness I hear the cautious breaths of the hot blonde with the big fake boobs... I'm not the only one who hates New Years.

The Dressing Room

Written
November 18th 2010


The dressing room in the strip club is where all the action happens. It's where you will find the girls just being themselves. Back stage is the only place where we don't have to put on an act. It's where we discuss the mayhem of the night, and mock the majority of men that attend the club. The dressng room is also where we go to relax. For some this is where we go for quiet time although sometimes it's hard to avoid the drama.
There's 3 kinds of strippers.
The popular girls: Usually the money makers of the club. blonde, fake tits, expensive clothes and fancy cars. They often have some good looking boyfriend.
The alternative girls: Their music selection tells a story, they usually have more than one tattoo, and dream of being an artists.
The nerdy girls: the girls who go to school. (it's not just what a girl tells you so you'll think she isn't an uneducated stripper who was raised in a trailer park) They're the girls in the corner cramming for a test between shows.
Being a combination off all of the above is my idea of the perfect woman. Smart, fun, sexy, beautiful, independant and secure with her sexuality. (what more coulda guy want? apparantly lot more, these are some of the loneliest girls I've ever met)
The dressing room is also where we go for man advice. When you get a group of girls together in a room with nothing to do, "men" always seem to quicly become the main topic.
I can't count how many times i've seen a girl break down in the dressing room over a guy who broke her heart. I remember when it happened to me.
I was crushed. All I wanted to do was stay at home cry and eat junk food in my bed. Instead I went to work. I didnt go for the money. Or out of fear of getting fired. I went because i needed the company of the dressing room. the comfort of the girls... my family. Shortly after ariving at work I began to feel better. Soon I was laughing and decided to forget about the heartache that I thought was going to be the end of me. I did it without the help of tears, junk food or the warmth of my lonely bed. All i needed was the warmth of the girls in the dressing room.

I wanted my name in lights

Just a little attention atractor

entertainers like to seeem complicated
but we're not complicated.

I must be psychotic,
I must be demented to think that I'm worthy of all this attention,
for all of this money, you worked really hard for
I slept and laid while you worked at the dug store.
Attention is my drug
I am an addict
But i get paid to indulge in my habbit
It's all an illusion
It's all an illusion

http://www.youtube.com/user/boburnham#p/u/0/Eo9pU1q8sy8

Muffin Head March 29 2002 - Dec 20 2011

It's been one week since my Mr. Muffin Head passed away. I hate the stillness in my home. Every time I open the front door I listen to hear him jump off the couch. I strain through the silence to hear the click clack of his nails agains the hard wood floors (a sound I once hated) as he'd scurry to greet me with his big goofy face. I miss him so very much and I'm pretty sure I always will. Every morning I catch myself reaching off the side of the bed to pet him. But his spot is empty now. I took him with me everywhere. To the radio station, to the tattoo shop, snowboarding, skim boarding, trail running, parades, music video shoots, he even toured with me across western Canada, he never left my side. Now there is an emptiness that never leaves my side. I miss my Muffin.

NIce Girls Finish Last

As any smart woman knows, playing by the rules of a male-dominated world will only get you so far. Nice girls - finish last.

You believe i am more than satisfied being a girl who behaves badly. That my morals are questionable, and my attitude needs adjusting. The truth is, I think it's entirely possible to rule the world while wearing a pretty dress and stilettos.

I'm getting awful sick of drippy chicks in love with the fantasy of macho heroes. Women who get kidnapped and need saving from some villain. There are far too many extraordinarily thick-headed girls going out alone and unarmed in the middle of the night to investigate weird chainsaw noises coming from the abandoned farmhouse by the old cemetery, knowing perfectly well that a crazed serial killer is on the loose. Without bothering to tell anyone where they're going.

Apart from needing to be rescued, these chicks are so unnecessary, there presence seems mainly designed to prove that despite all the so called Hero's male bonding, he's still 100% heterosexual.
How much time can these guys spend pumping iron in the gym with their buddies, checking out each other's muscles, and still maintain they're straight?

On the flip side:
The more metro sexual men become, the less they man up. And then they're shocked when they feel emasculated when they notice that their damsel wasn't so helpless afterall, and took care if business on her own, once she was sick of waiting for him to give a damn. (let's face it, a girl can only wait so long.) She's tougher than you expected yet still soft enough to be moved by a sweet man...

So welcome to the game. A skilled balance between beauty and brains.

You will be intoxicated, it will be complicated.

Don't analyze it. Don't try to figure it out. Just shut up and take it, like the big tough man you are. And don't worry, in the end you'll still be the hero in the spotlight. Because behind every great man....

Boys, Grow a Pair

 One of my biggest turn offs:
Boys who have to brag about their car, boat, house, watch, etc to prove they're special.

Dear Boys,
Grow a personality and stop hiding behind "stuff" to prove that you have value. I don't care about stuff. You are not your "things." It's just useless junk. Grow a personality, be charming, witty, smart.
For gawds sake you are more valuable than the crap you bought. Your "things" don't make you cool. You and you alone are most likely a fantastic human. Grow a pair and stand up for YOU, not your possessions.
sincerely
Samantha

Tonight's story starts with just another day at the office... aka another night at the strip club.

Tonight in the bar a handome man tried to chat me up.
His opening sentance was about how hot his car is. He then tried to get me to go outside to see it.

I instantly laughed and decided to bust this poor boys balls for my own amusment.
I know it's a little mean, But I couldn't help myself. I mocked him,
"I have no personality or redeming quialities that would make girls like me but I have a pretty car. oh boy, that'll make you like me"

He took my razzing like a champ... or he didn't get it.
"Here I'll show you a picture" he said. "George Knows, He's seen it."

about 10 mins of banter went by. My point each time being "your STUFF wont impress me. Be a man, come out from behind your toys and talk to me like a real boy Pinocchio" I even tried to help the poor fool out. So what do you do? Do you like your job? What did you really want to be when you grew up? etc. All I could drag out of him is that his job made so much money he's getting a new toy.

I asked him his name. Let's call him BoBo.
"Listen BoBO, Introducing your self by bragging about crap you paid way too much for, your penthouse suite, your car, your boat, your glittery shirt, etc. Makes you lame. Grow a personality. Make a girl smile. Try anything other than bragging about your stuff. You're far too young for a midlife crisis. Fuck the car. It's often said men with fancy cars are over compensating for 'something' anyways."

He then went on about how he liked to work out. AND I KID YOU NOT. He flexed his bicep and begged me to touch it. I held onto the bar to keep from falling over laughing. But, the damn fool persisted through my over dramatic laughter.
"No, feel it. It's hard I promise."
So I gave in and gave his buldging bicep a squeeze as I rolled my eyes.

he continued,
"OMG I love you let me take you out. I've got lots of money"

"It's unfortunate that your so handsome, your blatent stupidity has gone unnoticed for what? 30-35 years.... Let me guess you have a line of credit. That's not 'having lots of money' that's having lots of potential debt"

"ya but it still works." he said. (that's the funniest come back he had all night, still makes me laugh)

"why would you want to take me out. I've shot down everything you have to say. I've made fun of you and treated you like my verbal punching bag. I think you're mind numbing, you're actually numbing my mind, and I want to JUMP off the roof each time your open your mouth."

"ya but you have great tits. we'd look good together."

"I'll be on the roof"