Bated Breath

The Post I'd Never Thought I'd Write

2006-12-11T21:14:00.000-06:00

I've been doing a great deal of thinking about the state of this blog, and I've come to the conclusion that I can no longer keep it up. So many wonderful things have happened in my life lately, and for now, I want to focus on those things because they make me happy. That's not to say that this hasn't given me a great deal of joy over the past year, but other things simply take precedence at the moment.

To every one of you who have brightened my day by stopping by, I want to thank you. Your friendship and support has meant more to me than you'll probably ever know. And though I won't be writing any more, you can be sure that I'll still be keeping track of all of you.

Take care of yourselves. I'll miss you.

So, for one last time...

XOXOX,

Trixie

Not-So-Immaculate Conception

2006-12-01T11:46:00.000-06:00

Am I the only one who finds this HILARIOUS? The 16 year-old girl who plays the Virgin Mary in the upcoming movie, Nativity Story, is KNOCKED UP.

I know I said I wouldn't post til the 18th, but I couldn't help myself.

Don't Hate Me Because I'm Busy

2006-11-27T00:00:00.000-06:00

Well, I hate to say it, but I've got waaaay too much on my plate at the moment to even think about coming up with something creative. Between a truckload of work and preparing for an upcoming vacation (yes, another one), I just won't have the time to post. I'd rather take a few weeks off than put up something ass-numbingly dull and insult your intelligence.

So, as it stands, don't expect to see anything new until the 18th of December. I hope you all won't forget me while I'm gone. Take care of yourselves. I'll be back before you know it.

XOXOX,

Trixie

ps...comments will be disabled while I'm away.

They're Kidding, Right?

2006-11-22T00:00:00.000-06:00

I went shopping last night for some, um, naughtier attire that I need for an upcoming trip. You know, the kind that they don't sell at Victoria's Secret or Frederick's of Hollywood. In fact, I think even Freddy himself would turn his perverted little nose up at the sight of the kinds of things I bought.

Chicago has hundreds of these tiny little mom & pop stores that service a more "exotic" clientele. Of course, being that their product is lingerie, they need to have a strict return policy. Hygiene and all, you know. However, there's strict, and then there's down-right funny. Here's an actual picture of my receipt. I swear, this is real. I couldn't make this shit up.

I'll leave you to your laughter.

XOXOX,

Trixie

The Not So Friendly Skies

2006-11-21T00:00:00.000-06:00

I just got back from another wonderful trip to NYC. I had a blast, and can't wait to get back there soon. The only part I dread is getting there.

I've been traveling a good deal lately, and I have to tell you, I'm beginning to like flying less and less. I used to get excited before a trip. I loved sitting in airports. I would watch everyone and create stories about where they were going and what their lives were like. On the plane, the seat belt wasn't for my safety, but rather something to hold me back from jumping out of my seat from the anticipation of what lay ahead on my journey. Now it's all I can do not to use it to hang myself with.

It's bad enough that we're already forced to deal with weather issues, over-booked flights, delays for repairs and security checks. There's nothing we can do about these things. One would think that being in the same boat with 300 other passengers would be a bonding experience. Yet we're constantly adding to the annoyance level by acting like complete shits and making our already miserable experience worse.

The truth is, cramped quarters really do bring out the worst in people. There are a lot of selfish people out there who, for whatever reason, completely forget about the collective "we" factor when stuck in an uncomfortable spot and focus only on the "I." I can't tell you how many times I've seen some jackass completely go off on a poor gate agent because a flight is delayed or cancelled, as if their life was the only one affected. We've all witnessed this kind of behavior at one time or another.

So, sitting on my VERY delayed flight, I began to make a list of all the crappy things that I've either seen or had happen to me while flying the "friendly" skies. Of course, when I finished it, I knew I'd post it here as another of my Public Service Announcements. I swear to you, each and every situation below HAS happened to me. If I can save just one of you, I've done my job. So here you go...

Trixie's Guide To Being a Polite Airline Passenger

DO NOT change your child's diaper IN THE SEAT between other passengers. What kind of person does this? CRAP belongs in the bathroom.

DO keep the volume down on your ipod. There's a reason they come with headphones...so other people don't have to hear your shitty choice in music.

DO NOT use your tray table, or the seat in front of you as a drum set.

DO tell your children to stop kicking the seat in front of them. Tie their ankles together if you have to.

DO NOT continuously crack your knuckles, or your gum, or you'll get my hand cracked over your head.

DO bathe and apply deodorant before your flight.

DO NOT bathe in your perfume or cologne before your flight.

DO brush your teeth before your flight. NOTHING is worse than sitting next to someone with halitosis for three hours.

DO NOT talk loudly on your cell phone before takeoff and after landing. The whole cabin does not want to hear how you fucked some guy from Jersey this weekend.

DO turn your electronics off when they ask you to. They won't take off until you do, you jerkoff.

DON'T knowingly try to carry on a bag that's too overstuffed to fit in the overhead compartment. Check that shit. I don't want to wait while they gate-check your bag.

DO observe the personal space of the people sitting next to you. I don't want your fucking thigh on me for the duration of a four hour flight.

DO NOT behave in a way that would require anyone on the plane to use the word "asshole" in reference to you.

DO sit down, shut up and let the rest of us travel in peace.

I think that's all I've got for now. Anyone care to add something else?

Happy Anniversary To Me

2006-11-17T00:00:00.000-06:00

Exactly one year ago today, Bated Breath became a part of my life. Looking back on that first post, I wondered if I had any idea how this whole thing would affect my life. I think about the person I was then, to the one I am now, and though I'm still fundamentally the same, there are a few things about me that have changed. I think it's got something to do with the words being therapeutic. Once they started coming out, everything else in my life began to get better. It's amazing the difference a year can make in your life.

I'll be eternally grateful to this blog (and therefore, myself) for what it's given me. I've been allowed to reach out, to meet so many wonderful people that I may have never had the opportunity to know had it not been for this...people I couldn't imagine living my life without now. You all know who you are. I don't think I need to name names. Sure, there have been some regrets along the way, too. There are things that I would have liked to have said - and done - differently. But I can't change that now, and my only choice is to look forward to the wonderful things that lay before me.

So, before this starts to sound like a bad karaoke version of Sinatra's "My Way," I'd like to end this with a few thank you's. Thank you for reading. Thank you for sharing. Thank you for caring. Most importantly, thank you for letting me be ME.

XOXOX,

Trixie

Screw THAT!

2006-11-16T00:00:00.000-06:00

What do you get when you cross menstrual cramps that make one feel as if they're being stabbed to death, and enough bloating to make a girl feel like a beached whale? Answer:

A very pissed off Trixie

What don't you get? Answer:

An HNT.

Do I give a shit whether anyone likes it or not? Answer:

Not in the slightest.

Rainbow Girl

2006-11-15T00:00:00.000-06:00

A long time ago, my father was complaining about a family member who was causing him no end of grief. I remember him saying to me, "Remember, Trix, you can choose your friends, but you can't choose your family." This is one time I'll disagree with him, and last evening proved why.

I went to a birthday party last night for the four year-old daughter of a close friend. I had sort of dreaded going, knowing I'd run in to an ex there (a story for another day), but in the end, I'm glad I went. I suppose I should give you a little background information, though, before I continue.

K-Bear, as I like to call her, is the child of a Caucasian mother and Jamaican and Nigerian father. Of course, she's beautiful, as most interracial children tend to be, and she's much smarter than your average 4 year old. Mom is a vegan, politically active (do I even need to tell you which party she belongs to?) and very involved in the community. Dad, on the other hand, is rather conservative, definitely NOT vegan, and prefers watching TV to protest rallies.

Mom's family is out West, and Dad's, well, let's just say that his family chose not to be in the picture. That being the case, they've created their own little family right here in Chicago. Comprised mostly of co-workers past and present, they've formed a pretty tight-knit, if not highly unlikely, little unit. We may not be blood relatives, but each and every one of us is K-Bear's aunt and uncle.

So, how to describe our motley crew, this makeshift group she calls her family? Well, let's see. There are vegan gay & lesbian couples, left-wing activists, "Joey Bagadonuts"-type nightclub managers with their silicone-breasted girlfriends, and a person of pretty much every race and spiritual belief under the sun. Basically, we're a bunch of people who wouldn't, under most circumstances, probably EVER be caught dead under the same roof. Yet there we were, getting along because we all have one thing in common...we love that little girl.

I envy K-Bear. She's growing up where the "abnormal" (as far as society sees it) is part of her every day life. She doesn't see skin color. She doesn't look away uncomfortably when she sees two women kissing. At four, she understands that love is love, no matter what nationality you are or whom you choose to commit yourself to. She already comprehends the meaning of the words acceptance and diversity.

She pulled all of us together, which is why my present to her (below), in the end, seemed so appropriate. She's our Rainbow Girl.

Ok, sure, it's a bit cheesy. Sue me.

A Question For My "Freakier" Readers

2006-11-13T00:00:00.000-06:00

Does anyone know where I can pick up a pair of undies that glow? You know, like those necklaces you see at street festivals? I'd also love it if I could find a matching glowy bra. You can e-mail me directly if you'd like. Just click the link on my side bar.

Really, don't ask why. You don't want to know.

XOXOX,

Trixie

A Political Statement HNT

2006-11-09T00:00:00.000-06:00

I very rarely discuss my political views these days, save with those that I know share similar thoughts. I used to be one of those loud-and-proud crazy people, voicing my opinion to anyone within earshot. Believe me when I tell you that I've lost more than one friend because of it.

As I've gotten older, though, I've realized that while it's important to discuss the facts, it's often the quiet opinions that speak the loudest. Voting, for example. And then of course, there's this...

I'm blue, all the way down to my panties (well, thanks to Photoshop, I am).

Happy HNT everyone!

XOXOX,

Trixie

Please, Oh, Please, Oh Please!

2006-11-08T00:00:00.000-06:00

The Donkey
Originally uploaded by TrixieChicago.

Watching this shit like a hawk. No time for posting. Back later, either really freaking happy, or cranky as hell.

XOXOX,

Trixie

Chopped

2006-11-07T00:00:00.000-06:00

Yep, it's all gone. Chopped it right off. I feel better already. Definitely more Pixie-ish, no? Please excuse the lack of makeup. It's been a looooong day.

Until Tomorrow,

Trixie

I'm Not, I Don't, I Won't, I Am

2006-11-06T00:00:00.000-06:00

Dear TD,

This letter is a long time coming, but it's not one I ever wanted to write. I feel, though, that my hand has been forced. Forced by you, and your behavior. So let's get a few things straight, shall we?

I'M NOT...
Your therapist, your sounding board, your babysitter, or your significant other. I'm not your child, mother or best friend. I'm not responsible for you.

I DON'T...
Get paid to deal with your bullshit every week. I don't have the time to listen to your sob stories or your lies. I don't enjoy having my time wasted, or making excuses for your actions to others.

I WON'T...
Take your abuse any longer. I won't solve your problems, and I won't listen to any more apologies. I won't watch you slowly kill yourself. I won't feel sorry for you for one more second.

I CAN'T...
Sit back and watch you ruin your life, and the lives of those that still care about you.

I AM...
Disgusted by you. I am tired of watching you sit there, night after night, stumbling drunk and making an ass of yourself rather than going home and trying to heal yourself.

I am your bartender, now, and nothing more. I DON'T, WON'T, CAN'T give a damn about you ever again. You have abused my good nature and my faith in our friendship for the very last time.

Trix

Kissing the Water

2006-11-02T00:00:00.000-06:00

Kissing the Water_R
Originally uploaded by TrixieChicago.

I think I'm going to forego the usual HNT, simply because I posted the equivalent of weeks worth of HNT's just yesterday. If you feel the need to see more skin, though, feel free to click on the photo above, or the Flickr badge on my sidebar. There's plenty of nekkidness there. I have also posted a few more sunset pics as well, for those of you who don't need to see my naked ass (or other parts) every day.

Now, as for the trip report I've been promising, I've decided against it. Why? Because I just don't think I'll be able to do it justice with mere words. It's something you have to experience for yourselves. I can tell you about it until I'm blue in the face, but you'll never get it until you're standing smack in the middle of it.

So instead, I'll hope that you'll enjoy the pictures, and that the images of fun and joy speak for themselves. I also hope that they'll inspire you to take the time to experience this amazing place at least once in your lifetime. I promise you, you won't be disappointed.

XOXOX,

Trixie

A Picture Is Worth a Thousand Words, Right?

2006-11-01T00:00:00.000-06:00

The Other Side of Branded
Originally uploaded by TrixieChicago.

Well, if that's true, then I've written about 42,000 words tonight...and that's barely even scratched the surface. I've got more, but out of respect for the privacy of my friends, I think I'll keep a few of the photographs to myself. However, as promised, I have posted a bunch of Fantasy Fest pics here, or you can just click on the flickr badge on my sidebar.

I hope you enjoy looking at them as much as we enjoyed taking them. We all had an amazing time, and I highly recommend that each and every one of you check out Fantasy Fest for yourselves.

I'll post some more tomorrow, along with some thoughts and stories. So, until then, happy perving!!!

XOXOX,

Trixie

Day Late and A Dollar Short

2006-10-31T00:00:00.000-06:00

Well, I had planned on writing all about my trip tonight, but that was before I got stuck at some crazy-ass awards function for work until 11 o'clock. Seriously. These things really blow. They gave out eleven awards, ELEVEN, and it took two and a half hours.

Sure, it was great to be honored and all, but 2 1/2 hours? My ass was numb after 45 minutes. We're up for a pretty prestigious award next month, where the amount of statues they give out is nearly five times that of tonight's. No wonder people are always bitching about the length of award shows. Who wants to sit through 4 hours of bad jokes, stammering speeches, and gratitude to every person one's ever come across? Not this fairy. No thanks. I think I'll be conveniently ill for this next one.

ALTHOUGH, I might reconsider, based solely on one thing. The gift bag. If the swag I got tonight for such a small event is any indication of the goodies I'll get at the next, I'll stand there and smile pretty for the camera all they want...numb ass and all.

So, as I said, no trip report tonight. Look for something tomorrow. I'm going to drink a glass of whiskey and dive in to bed.

XOXOX,

Trixie

Happy Birthday To Me

2006-10-29T17:09:00.000-06:00

Well, just got home from a fabulous week at Fantasy Fest in Key West, and I'm utterly exhausted. So tired, in fact, that the thought of writing a whole post tonight is pretty much more than I can bear. So, I'll be spending my birthday vegging out on the couch, watching crap TV and relaxing.

I'll be writing a report of my trip and posting photos of all the fun and craziness all week long. But just so you won't think I'm leaving you high and dry my first day back, I've put up a few pictures of me in the pirate costume that all of you voted for.

See you all tomorrow!

XOXOX,

Trixie

What you don't see is the jeweled pasties underneath...

Me, pouring beer for the Muff Diver.

Off To Paradise HNT

2006-10-19T00:00:00.000-05:00

Freshly painted toenails and flip-flops. You know what this means, right? Yep, I'm outta here in a few short days. Off to paradise for a whole lotta fun in the sun. So, since I'll be working straight through until it's time to get on the plane, this will be my last post until October 29th...which also happens to be this fairy's birthday. And before you ask, yes, I LOVE presents.

Have a wonderful week while I'm gone, and I promise I'll drink a toast to each and every one of you while I'm away.

Love, Hugs and Kisses!

XOXOX,

Trixie

Begging For Help

2006-10-17T00:00:00.000-05:00

I'm suffering from a severe lack of creativity lately, and I need your assistance. So, here's the deal. I'm going away for a week (beginning this Sunday) to someplace warm, sunny and crazy, and I need some costume help. I bought the pirate costume you guys chose, and I found something to wear for Red Night, but I'm stuck on what to do for the Plaid Party.

I'm begging you. Can you help me come up with something? It can be anything that has to do with plaid. I don't necessarily want to do the naughty school girl thing, and I don't look good in kilts. Got any advice?

The floor is yours.

XOXOX,

Trixie

Boozin' Rules, Updated

2006-10-16T00:00:00.000-05:00

Back in April, I wrote a post outlining how NOT to behave like I drunken, shithead Cub's fan. Obviously, a few people were paying attention, because I had far fewer encounters with idiots this past season than in any of the previous ones.

While the Cub's season (shameful, at it's very best) may now be over, I've found that many of these rules still apply. They do, however, need a bit of an update. So, I thought I'd make it a bit less season specific and mold it in to a general guideline for good bar behavior. Pay attention. I'm talking to YOU!

Trix's Guide to Good Bar Etiquette

Do NOT, under any circumstances, come up to the bar and flag me down, "OOH, OOH-ing" like Arnold Horshack without your drink order ready. Nothing draws my contempt for you more than being interrupted while filling a ten-drink order than to be stopped in the middle of it for "Uh, give me a second. I don't know what I want yet."

Have your fucking money out. You may not care that you're wasting my time, and that of another customer's by keeping me from serving them faster, but I do. Get your shit together.

Unless you're from the UK, or Australia, DO NOT call me "Love." It's insincere, and basically just annoys the shit out of me. Exception: If you're really, really hot, then it's quite alright. But you know if you're hot or not, so I expect you to act accordingly. Yes, I can be THAT shallow. Sue me.

DO NOT order a Cosmopolitan or a frozen Margarita when I've got fifty people waiting for drinks. Have a beer and a shot, and shut the fuck up. You'll like it, because I said so.

No matter WHAT anyone tells you, you are NOT sexy after 14 hours of drinking. If you can't put one foot in front of the other, how in the hell do you think you're going to get laid?

If you can't say the name of the beverage you want, chances are you're too drunk to need it.

Don't EVER ask the question, "What's the cheapest beer you have?" For a bartender, that translates to "Cheap bastard/No tip." I promise you, it's the quickest way to get ignored.

It there's an ashtray on the table, USE IT. If I see you stomp it out on the floor, I'm going to make you pick it up. Who raised you, anyways?

Ladies, tampons go in the garbage can. Why do I even NEED to say this?

Gentlemen, the urinals are for URINE. That's all I'm saying about this one.

Keg stands are great...in a frat house in Des Moines. NOT in the middle of a bar. We'd prefer it if you kept your feet firmly planted on the ground.

If you order a drink, and say "yes" to the question "Will that be all?", I expect that you are telling me the truth. If I come back and you say, "Oh, and another thing...", you can expect that I'll think you're an asshole.

Having a screaming match with your significant other in a bar, while drunk, certainly won't do anything to improve the situation. Take that shit outside.

Ordering Jagerbombs or vodka/Red Bull does NOT make you hip or cool. Anyone who willingly pays that much for a drink is just a moron, plain and simple.

For the love of all that's holy, only order from one bartender at a time. If I repeat your order back to you, rest assured, I'm filling it. You order twice, you impatient fuck, you pay twice, or you can leave.

A good friend does not hold their friend's hair back while they're puking in a garbage can in the middle of a bar. A good friend takes them home.

If you smell like the inside of a sweaty shoe, you shouldn't be out in public. (YES, this does happen.)

Behaving like a self-important bitch will NOT get you what you want. I assure you, I can be a bigger bitch than you any day.

If I say no more booze, I mean just that. NO MORE BOOZE. Arguing will not help your cause. Go home. Sleep it off. There's always another day to behave like an idiot.

I think I've covered most of my pet peeves, but If I've forgotten anything, feel free to let me know. I'll add them to the list. Happy Monday everyone!

XOXOX,

Trixie

A Very UN-Lady-Like HNT

2006-10-12T12:00:00.000-05:00

Bloggers. We're a odd bunch. I don't think a single one of us will ever deny that fact. Some are writers, trying to get published, some want a place to document the growth of their kids, some want a place to document their own personal growth, and still more just need a place to vent. We've each got our own reasons for posting the things we do, but in the end, it all comes down to one simple idea...we're using this medium as a tool to express ourselves.

Of course, there is a certain degree of scrutiny that comes along with opening ourselves up to the world. Inevitably, someone isn't going to like something you say or do. With so many people connected to one another through this high-tech highway, disagreements are a given. I find, though, that the freedom to exchange differing opinions in this format leads to an open dialog, and that, in my opinion, can never be a bad thing. How else can we learn from one another unless we open up our mouths and say what we think and feel?

There's a limit, though, to how far one needs to go to get their point across. Nastiness, just for the sake of it, is something I've never understood. Of course, I'm a bitch, as proven here on multiple occasions, but I don't believe I've ever stooped to the blatant name-calling of a fellow blogger, and I've certainly never looked at someone's blog and publicly declared the content as "insipid" or "uninspired."

This is why I was so disturbed the other day to read a post by a blogger (whom I will not name, because I believe it will lend her a credibility that is completely undeserved) who criticized certain other bloggers' choices of what to post for HNT. The main point to her post was that there seems to be a lack of "humanity" and "creativity" in our photos, and compared them those that one would take to post on sleazy adult web sites, looking for sex partners.

It's not the content that she took exception to, but the context. In other words, it's not the T & A that annoys her, but rather the way in which the photos are taken. To her, standing in front of a mirror, taking a possibly shaky photograph of yourself (we can't all have amazing camera skills...Heaven knows I don't) is decidedly less valid than those that may tell a story.

So, I went through the blogs of a few of my fellow HNT'ers just to try to see things from her perspective. I also went back and looked at several of my own photos. All I could see, however, was a group of lovely, interesting people who had the balls to share a piece of themselves, whether the picture spoke to me or not.

What I also find interesting is that the comparisons of our photos to those "lurid" ones posted on sleazy adult sites comes from a woman who, on her own blog, has pictures of her removing her g-string, simulated masturbation and, wait for it folks, photographs of her naked genitalia (which, by the way, look like they were taken by some dime store, Glamour Shots hack posing as a professional photographer). Hello pot, I'm kettle. Moreover, this person has a child, who, with just the wrong click of a mouse, could see these photos of his mother. Call my pictures insipid and uninspired all you want. I'll take that over irresponsible any day.

I, as I'm sure is the case with my fellow HNT'ers, participate because I enjoy it...because it turns me on to be brave enough to share something so highly personal with my readers. The accolades and the compliments are great, but make no mistake, I do this for myself first and foremost. I take is as a personal insult for this woman to judge me, to judge YOU. Who is she to decide what is or is not inspiring to others? I also find it insulting to the time and energy that Os, whom I consider a friend, has put in to this project. It quite simply comes down to one thing. Follow the advice that I know ALL of our mothers have told us: If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all.

If there's a silver lining to all of this, it's that I've been inspired to be more creative with my HNT photos...at least for today. So, dear blogger that prompted this post, how's this for inspiration, creativity and humanity?:

I call this photo "GO FUCK YOURSELF."

(But if that doesn't work for you, I hear Tucker Max may still be available. Ok, yeah, that may have been a little bit nasty.)

This Bitch Should Be Shot

2006-10-11T00:00:00.000-05:00

I read this story on MSN yesterday, and I wanted to vomit. Basically, this crazy woman used her infant child as a makeshift baseball bat and beat her boyfriend with it. Now the poor kid is fighting for it's life, with internal bleeding and a cracked skull.

How is it that we require people to have licenses to drive, but not to be a parent? Personally, I think this bitch should be strung up and tortured, then shot, and then tortured some more. There are some majorly fucked-up people in this world.

I'm baffled.

Stripped

2006-10-10T00:00:00.000-05:00

A funny thing happens to you when you step outside of your comfort zone and do something that you wouldn't, under most normal circumstances, ever consider involving yourself in. You learn how strong you can be when you toss your fears and inhibitions aside, and you realize what really matters in your life.

Out of respect for the privacy of new friends I made this weekend, I won't divulge too much information, but the truth of the matter is that I, your very own fairy, spent an entire weekend at a resort (and I use that term loosely, for the few of you who read this and know what I'm referring to), sans clothing. Nada. Niente. Just me and the parts my momma gave me, and fifty other naked people laughing and enjoying the company of close friends.

It's refreshing to be with a group of people who don't define themselves by what they do, but rather, present themselves to you as who they really are at the basic core of their existence. When there's no pretense getting in the way, it allows you to get to know a person in a way that would otherwise take years. Strip away the clothes, the career, and the stresses of everyday life and what you get is 100 percent purity.

I consider myself lucky to have had this experience, to have been welcomed into this circle with open arms. I don't know if they realize what they've done for me, how they have helped me to see things in a different, brighter light. But I hope to get the opportunity to show them my gratitude. These are people who's friendship is well worth the effort to keep.

File This Under: My Heart Was in the Right Place

2006-10-02T00:00:00.000-05:00

I do this all the time. I decide to start a project, get really excited about it, and then about half way through, I end up asking myself "What the hell was I thinking?" Now I'm sitting here wishing I'd never started, and without the time to write a decent post. So yeah, you're getting short-changed tonight. But I swear to you, my heart was in the right place.

Worse, I had planned to take the rest of the week off from posting because I've got some big plans for the rest of the week. So yeah, again, I feel like I'm letting you down, and I'll be feeling really, really bad about that while I'm lying in the sun, getting tan and drinking Mai-Tais.

Take care of yourselves, boys and girls. I'll be back next Tuesday.

XOXOX,

Trixie

Almost Screwed THAT Up, HNT

2006-09-28T00:00:00.000-05:00

Yep, I'm a crack smoker...

For those of you quick enough, you may have noticed that I had this posted for about a half a second yesterday until the faboulous Os brought it to my attention that it was, in fact, Wednesday, not Thursday. My brain is obviously somewhere else these days (NO, I'm NOT telling you where).

So here's the HNT, on the appropriate day. Notice the fake-bake tan. Going someplace warm soon, where tan lines are frowned upon, so...

Saving the planet to resume shortly! Happy HNT, everyone!

XOXOX

Trixie

p.s. 9 more daze!

Friends Around the World - Asia, Australia & New Zealand

2006-09-27T00:00:00.000-05:00

Hello, all! It's time to list the cities from my readers in Asia, Australia and New Zealand. Who knew I had so many new friends in the great land of Oz? I was actually shocked when I started putting the list together.

So, write to me, boys and girls. Tell me who you are and about your life. Can't wait to hear from you!

Australia, Albion, Victoria

Australia, Bankstown, New South Wales

Australia, Bedford Park, South Australia

Australia, Blackmans Point, New South Wales

Australia, Brisbane, Queensland

Australia, Burwood, New South Wales

Australia, Camberwell, Victoria

Australia, Canberra, Australian Capital Territory

Australia, Derrimut, Victoria

Australia, Emu Plains, New South Wales

Australia, Glenroy, Victoria

Australia, Greenwich, New South Wales

Australia, Hobart, Tasmania

Australia, Launceston, Tasmania

Australia, Leichhardt, New South Wales

Australia, Melbourne, Victoria

Australia, Merrylands, New South Wales

Australia, Midgeton, Queensland

Australia, Millthorpe, New South Wales

Australia, Mortlake, New South Wales

Australia, Newmarket, Queensland

Australia, Oxford Park, Queensland

Australia, Pampas, Queensland

Australia, Perth, Western Australia

Australia, Regents Park, New South Wales

Australia, Ryde, New South Wales

Australia, Sturt, South Australia

Australia, Sydney, New South Wales

Australia, Wantirna, Victoria

Australia, Woronora Dam, New South Wales

Australia, Yargullen, Queensland

China, Shanghai

China, Wuhan, Hubei

Hong Kong, Central District

Hong Kong, Kings Park

Hong Kong, Shouson Hill

Hong Kong, Wan Chai

India, Bangalore, Karnataka

India, Bombay, Maharashtra

India, Madras, Tamil Nadu

Japan, Chiba

Japan, Okinawa

Japan, Yokohama, Kanagawa

Malaysia, Serdang Lama, Negeri Sembilan

New Zealand, Auckland

New Zealand, Christchurch

Philippines, Bel-Air Four, Rizal

Philippines, Makati, Rizal

Philippines, Muntinlupa City, Rizal

Philippines, Quezon, Nueva Ecija

Taiwan, Taipei, T'ai-pei

XOXOX,

Trixie

p.s. Ten more daze!

A Public Service Announcement

2006-09-26T12:00:00.000-05:00

I know I was supposed to continue my quest for world peace today by asking my readers from Asia, Australia and New Zealand to write to me, but that has to be put off until tomorrow.

I was thinking about the state of my blog today, and how I haven't written about anything fun lately like blow jobs or G spots. Now, don't get too excited, 'cuz I'm not writing about that today, but leave it to my good friend Moxie over at Sex and Moxie to help me out. It seems that her wonderful company would like to offer all you lovely people some classes on how to get busy in the bedroom...FOR FREE, but only for the first five people who RSVP! So check out the info below and sign up to learn how to get your freak on.

Ladies & Gentleman!

MoxieintheCity.net is extending a special offer to Trixie's readers. Want to attend one of Moxie's Fellatio, Kama Sutra for Men or Women, or Lapdance/Striptease classes for free???

MoxieintheCity.net has these classes scheduled for DC, Boston, Philadelphia, Chicago, New York City, Dallas & San Francisco.

To attend for free:

Log on to www.MoxieintheCity.net

Select an event (bedroom workshop or lap/strip class only)

RSVP (DO NOT PRE-PAY) with promo code BREATH

This code is valid only if you RSVP at least THREE days in advance.

Spaces are limited. Only FIVE free admission passes (good for one person each) available.

Use of the BREATH code will ensure free admission as long as you are one of the first FIVE people to RSVP with it.

Have fun! Thank you!!!

I know this lady, people, and let me tell you, you won't be disappointed. So hurry up and sign up now!

My quest for world peace will resume tomorrow.

XOXOX,

Trixie

Friends Around the World - The UK, Africa and The Middle East

2006-09-25T12:00:00.000-05:00

I was so surprised at the response I received from my readers in Europe, that I can't wait to hear what the rest of you around the world have to say. I'm making my way around the world, a small block at a time. Tomorrow, I'll post countries and cities in Asia, Australia and New Zealand.

Please, if you see your town, write to me and tell me about yourself. This has been a lot of fun so far, and I'm so excited to hear from you. So, without further ado, here's The UK, Africa and The Middle East...

Egypt, As Sakakini, Al Qahirah

Iran, Islamic Republic of, Sina, Bushehr

Ireland, Dublin

Mauritius

Saudi Arabia, Riyadh, Ar Riyad

South Africa, Cape Town, Western Cape

United Arab Emirates, Dubai, Dubayy

United Kingdom, Billinghay, Norfolk

United Kingdom, Birmingham

United Kingdom, Brighton, Birmingham

United Kingdom, Broadway, Somerset

United Kingdom, Buxton, Stockport

United Kingdom, Cardiff

United Kingdom, Chelmsford, Essex

United Kingdom, Douglas, Fife

United Kingdom, Falkirk

United Kingdom, Farrington Gurney, Bath

United Kingdom, Harrogate, Leeds

United Kingdom, Hertford

United Kingdom, Heswall, Clwyd

United Kingdom, London, Lambeth

United Kingdom, Ludlow, Gloucestershire

United Kingdom, Martin, Lincolnshire

United Kingdom, Matlock, Derbyshire

United Kingdom, Milton Keynes

United Kingdom, Nantwich, Stoke-on-Trent

United Kingdom, Newbury, West Berkshire

United Kingdom, Nottingham

United Kingdom, Oxford, Oxfordshire

United Kingdom, Sale, Trafford

United Kingdom, Solihull

United Kingdom, Stevenage, Norfolk

United Kingdom, Stourbridge, Dudley

United Kingdom, Warwick, Warwickshire

United Kingdom, Watford, Slough

Thank you, again, to everyone who has written in so far. I'm looking forward to building a friendship with each and every one of you.

XOXOX,

Trixie

Now You See It, Now You Don't

2006-09-23T13:02:00.000-05:00

There's some odd people out there. That's all I'm sayin'.

Trixie

p.s. 13 daze!!!

I'm HUGE in Germany...

2006-09-22T00:00:00.000-05:00

I'm endlessly fascinated with my Sitemeter. I love the information it provides, such as who is currently reading, who links to me and of course, the IP addresses of the filthy pervs who find me through Googling disgusting search words. But by far, my favorite part is my ability to see the cities and countries in which people are viewing my site.

Being the curious fairy that I am, I've decided to start a little project. Over the next couple weeks, I'll be listing the names of cities and countries all over the world that have, at some point, come to my little slice of the net. What I hope is that some of you will recognize your town and write to me at the linked email address on my sidebar. I want to know all about you. Tell me about yourselves...who you are, what you do, whom you love, your dreams, your values and your beliefs. Tell me what you love about where you're from, and what you'd like to see change. Send me a picture if you'd like. If you're a blogger, let me know and I'll link to you. In the end, this is a very small world, and I'd like to meet as many of you as I can.

What I'd eventually like to see happen (though I haven't worked out all the pesky details, yet) is to create a site where all of my new friends from all over the world can come and share their thoughts and ideas with one another. Everyone has room in their life for one more friend, don't you think?

Now, keep in mind that I've copied and pasted these cities straight out of Sitemeter, so there may be a few misspellings, and I've only posted the places that have popped up more than once. That's the only way I can tell for certain that you've come to my blog on purpose.

So, let's begin with EUROPE:

Austria, Graz, Steiermark

Belgium, Drogenbos, Brabant

Belgium, Limbourg, Liege

Bulgaria, Parchevich, Plovdiv

Czech Republic, Kladno, Stredocesky Kraj

Denmark, lborg, Nordjylland

Estonia, Tallinn, Harjumaa

Finland, Ilmoissilta, Southern Finland

Finland, Turku, Western Finland

France, Cesson-Svign, Bretagne

France, Gagny, Ile-de-France

France, Issoire, Auvergne

France, Levallois-Perret, Ile-de-France

France, Montpellier, Languedoc-Roussillon

France, Ris-Orangis, Ile-de-France

France, Rouen, Haute-Normandie

France, Vanves, Ile-de-France

Germany , Beverbruch, Niedersachsen

Germany , Wrzburg, Bayern

Germany, Bonn, Nordrhein-Westfalen

Germany, Frankfurt Am Main, Hessen

Germany, Koeln, Nordrhein-Westfale

Germany, Muenchen, Bayern

Germany, Zepernick, Brandenburg

Germany,Fellbach, Baden-Wurttemberg

Greece, Sna, Lakonia

Italy, Monserrato, Sardegna

Netherlands, Amersfoort, Utrecht

Netherlands, Hoofddorp, Noord-Holland

Netherlands, Nijmegen, Gelderland

Norway, Bod, Nordland

Norway, Konglungen, Akershus

Norway, Lian, Sor-Trondelag

Portugal, So Domingos De Rana, Lisboa

Spain, Ministerio, Aragon

Sweden, Nacka, Vasternorrlands Lan

Sweden, Solna, Kalmar Lan

Switzerland, Arconciel, Fribourg

Switzerland, Farvagny-le-Grand, Fribourg

Switzerland, Mnchenbuchsee, Bern

Switzerland, Morges, Vaud

Switzerland, Murten, Neuchatel

Switzerland, Noraz, Fribourg

Switzerland, Orsonnens, Fribourg

Switzerland, Zrich, Zurich

Monday: The UK, Africa and the Middle East.

Have a wonderful weekend everyone!

XOXOX,

Trixie

p.s. 15 more daze and counting...

Ok, But Only Because You Asked So Nicely

2006-09-21T00:00:00.000-05:00

I never could handle peer pressure. Have at it.

Happy HNT, my friends!

XOXOX,

Trixie

P.S. 16 more daze and counting. I know most of you won't understand this. But someone will.

Busy, Busy, Busy

2006-09-20T09:19:00.000-05:00

I'm on a shoot in the late afternoon through this evening. I'll try, but I can't guarantee I'll have time to come up with anything for HNT tomorrow. After a full week of pictures last week, I'm sure you'll all survive!

XOXOX,

Trixie

Is It Just Me...

2006-09-19T00:00:00.000-05:00

...Or does anyone else have miserable sinus problems right now? My head feels like it's going to explode from all the pressure built up inside it, and it seems as though someone is stabbing me behind my eyeballs. My ears are so plugged up that I feel like I'm cruising at 33,000 feet. My face and neck hurt, even to the touch, and I now look like Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer from constantly blowing my nose. That's attractive, eh?

I've always had allergy & sinus problems, but this is ridiculous. I'm wondering if there's something floating around out there in the air that has me this stuffed up. Is anyone else in the Midwest having these issues, and if so, what are you taking to fix it? Nothing is working for me so far.

Off to take a long, steamy shower and get some rest. Sweet dreams, everyone.

XOXOX,

Stuffy Trixie

A Letter to Howard Schultz

2006-09-18T00:00:00.000-05:00

Howard Schultz, President & CEO
Starbucks Corporation

September 18, 2006

Dear Sir:

I write to you today not as a customer, but as a woman in need of help. I have nowhere else to turn. You're my last hope. Please, I beg you, remove the crack cocaine-like ingredient from your coffee products immediately. I'm a junkie, and I just can't say no.

Every day, sometimes twice a day, I find myself in front of your baristas, without knowing how I got there, buying another Venti Iced Non-Fat Vanilla Latte. At five bucks a pop, that's more than the cost of a single dose of rock. I know. I looked it up.

Halfway through my day, I start shaking, twitching and speaking in tongues. I have to leave work and drive straight to your store or I start getting headaches and the cold sweats. Fortunately, everyone else in my office is addicted as well, or I'd be severely close to losing my job.

Now I hear that you plan to open even MORE locations in Chicago. You're already on every street corner and in every strip mall. What's next? A Starbucks counter in the spa where I get my bikini wax? It's bad enough I have to wait in line behind Gucci-clad soccer moms to feed my addiction now.

Please, Mr. Schultz, I'm begging you. Only you have the power to stop the madness. Can't you just sell normal coffee, like, say, Dunkin Donuts or Intelligentsia? I pray for that day.

Sincerely,

Trixie

Cheer Up the Dump - Half Nekkid Week, Finale

2006-09-14T00:01:00.000-05:00

Well, it's been a fun week, folks, but all good things must come to an end. Dan, I've had so many emails from people telling me about how much they enjoyed your blog, and how you'll be terribly missed. I can only hope that this past week has been a happier one for you, that these ladies and I have helped to put a smile on your face, and that some day soon you'll decide to return to our little blog community. It just won't be the same without you.

So here's your last picture, a pose per your request. Take care of yourself, stay in touch, and remember that there are those of us out there who can't wait for you to come back to us.

The rest of the lovely ladies are in a post directly below. Silly Blogger. It will only allow me to put up five pictures per post.

XOXOX,

Trixie

Cheer Up the Dump - Finale, Additional Pics

2006-09-14T00:00:00.000-05:00

The wonderful Fab...

Beth, the non-blogger whom everyone's fallen in love with...

The stunning Ms. Smartypants...

The lovely Hoopla...

And finally, another non-blogger, the fabulous Reese, with some serious ink!

A very big thanks to all the beautiful women who have written in this week and supported the cause. You've made me smile, you've made my readers smile, and most of all, you've (hopefully) made Dan smile. What do you say, Daniel? How'd they do? Are you grinning yet?

All my love,

Trixie

Cheer Up the Dump - Half Nekkid Week, Day 7

2006-09-13T00:00:00.000-05:00

Well, boys and girls, we've got one more day to go of Half Nekkid Week. I'm almost sad to see it end. So, ladies, let's end it with a bang! Send me as many pictures as you can! One last push to make Dan grin. Oh, and Daniel, I haven't heard from you yet...you've got until tomorrow to let me know what final pose you'd like to see. Don't make me choose. This is, after all, all about you! And now, on with the show.

Me, in the tightest damned dress I own...

And one of my new favorite people and a total team player, the Kitty...

Alright, ladies. Now is not the time to be shy. Send in those sexy pictures!

XOXOX,

Trixie

p.s. Yes, I'm aware that one week is equal to seven days.

Cheer Up the Dump - Half Nekkid Week, Day 6

2006-09-12T00:00:00.000-05:00

Boy, am I happy today! Three, count 'em, THREE ladies have decided to help me cheer up Dan. I was beginning to think I was going to have to see this through on my own. Thanks to you, Os, for the second mention. Muchas gracias, Amigo. So, without further ado, let the half nekkidness/cheering up of Daniel begin!

Fuzzy, but it'll do, I think. Another one of me...

Our second non-blogger, and holy-hell is she sexy, Beth...

Ms. Hoopla, from the Great White North, and her adorable tummy...

And here's Miss Felicity in her third appearance...

Alright, kids. Two more days to go, and I've decided to let Dan choose the final "pose" he'd like to see. So, what's it gonna be, kid?

XOXOX,

Trixie

Cheer Up the Dump - Half Nekkid Week, Day 5

2006-09-11T00:00:00.000-05:00

I'm tired, and I need some sleep, so this will be short and sweet. Hope you all had a wonderful weekend, and especially you, Dan! Ladies, there's still a few days to go & I need more pics, so send them in!

Sweet dreams, everyone.

XOXOX,

Trixie

Cheer Up the Dump - Half Nekkid Week, Day 4

2006-09-10T00:00:00.000-05:00

We're combining two milestones today, my friends. First, we're half-way through Half Nekkid Week, and second, this is my 200th post. What a great day!

Again, this is posting early because my services are required at the bar all night. I'm sure you're all so very upset about having to look at half naked women earlier than you'd expected. I know you'll find a way to get through it, though. I have faith in you, dear readers.

So here's me, getting ready for work...

Another amazing picture from the Kitty...

From Amy, a lovely reader & first non-blogger to post a picture...

And one more from the fabulous Felicity!

Thanks to all who have submitted thus far. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it. We still have four more days to go, though, girls, so keep sending them in. Dan needs our support!

XOXOX,

Trixie

Cheer Up the Dump - Half Nekkid Week, Day 3

2006-09-09T00:00:00.000-05:00

I'm posting my Saturday pics a little early, and since I'll be working at the bar all weekend, I'll be posting the Sunday ones late tomorrow afternoon. Have a great weekend everyone! Oh, and Dan, are you smiling yet? Maybe just a little? Let's see if these do the trick...

Me, in my favorite men's shirt...

And TWO of Miss Felicity...

Ladies, if you'd still like to submit a picture in Dan's honor, email them to me at the address on my sidebar.

XOXOX,

Trixie

Cheer Up the Dump - Half Nekkid Week, Day 2

2006-09-08T12:00:00.000-05:00

Alright, Ladies! Where are you? Last night started out so promising, with a few pics sent in (thanks, girls), but so far today, I've only received one! How am I to turn Dan's frown upside down if it's just my half nekkid body all week? He's sure to get bored of it soon. C'mon! Where are all of my lovely friends? Have you all suddenly become shy? I dare you. I TRIPLE DOG DARE YOU. So, if you're willing to take that dare and you want me to put up you picture, please email me at the link on the sidebar. So, for now, I've got two for you...

Me in (well, almost) my favorite Levis...

...and the fabulous Tara Tainton!

One from the gorgeous Jordan...

A Week Long HNT...Or "Cheer Up the Dump"

2006-09-07T00:00:00.000-05:00

What does one do when a friend is blue?

My friend Dan over at The Daily Dump is a little bit down at the moment. Being over 800 miles away, I thought there wasn't much I could do to make him feel better, but leave it to him to come up with a clever idea. His request? An entire week of Half Nekkid pictures.

Seeing as how he's made me smile and laugh out loud on a near daily basis for the better part of a year, I am more than happy to oblige him. But I've decided to take this one step further...give him something to REALLY smile about. So here's the plan:

The lovely Os, GENIUS creator of Half Nekkid Thursday, has given me permission to ask my beautiful female readers to email me Half Nekkid pictures of themselves for posting on my site throughout the next week. So from now until next Thursday, if you'd like to help me make a sweet man smile, please, send in a picture of yourself to the email address listed in my sidebar, and I'll gladly post the pictures each day. I'm hoping that the more pictures I get, the bigger Dan's smile will get. Of course, I'll be posting one of me each day as well. If you're concerned with privacy, I assure you I will not reveal any names if requested not to.

So ladies, what do you say? Are you with me?

XOXOX,

Trixie

To get the ball rolling, here's my first Half Nekkid picture of the week...

My favorite new undies!

And here's our first HNT "Cheer Up the Dump" submission. Thanks Smartypants!

Here's one from that sexy kitty...

The Laundry List of Reasons I Hate Laundromats

2006-09-06T00:00:00.000-05:00

Last week, I extolled upon the many virtues of my new home. Yes, I love it, but it's not without it's flaws. The window screens could be replaced, the locks are a bit sticky and I'm not really fond of the tile on the floor in the kitchen and the bathroom. All of these can be fixed, so it doesn't really bother me too much.

The only real problem is that there's no laundry facilities, which means I'm stuck lugging my shit up and down two flights of stairs and carting them to the local laundromat. I know, I know, it's not really THAT big of an issue in the grand scheme of things, but hear me out, alright?

In no particular order, I give you my list of the top ten reasons why I hate going to the laundromat:

1. Families who use every single laundry cart. I realize that a large family means a whole lot of dirty clothes. But is it too much to ask to leave one or two carts for us non-breeders?

2. The "Creepy, Staring Guy." He's always there, watching the ladies fold their panties, yet I've never seen him fold a piece of his own. I'm beginning to think that he just comes there to sniff the dryer lint of pretty girls.

3. Unattended, poorly-behaved children. Whether its screaming and yelling for candy from the vending machine, or racing around in their family's many carts, there's always a bunch of brats in the laundromat. Apparently, their mothers are too concerned with telling their girlfriends how much of a "fucking asshole" their baby daddy is to bother keeping an eye on their monsters.

4. Scary, ghetto moms with 6+ kids. This one goes hand in hand with #3. I have to wonder how far a kid's going to get in life with a mother who screams "Julio, get your motherfucking ass over here and fold these clothes." at him.

5. Televisions. Why are ALL five TV's set to Spanish-speaking stations? There are always plenty of English-speakers there. Can't we have one?

6. Vending Machines. Why is there only ever Mountain Dew and Yoohoo left in the soda machine?

7. Waiting in line for the dryers. Can someone please tell me why, at a quarter per 12 minutes, they don't have enough cash to fix the dryers? It always seems to me that at least half of them are out of order.

8. The fascist laundry attendant. Whether its dripping detergent on the top of the washer, or not closing the doors to the machines when you're done using them, she's good for at least one berating and several dirty looks per visit.

9. Guitar Guy. He's always there, reeking of pot and playing for laundry money, and usually murdering a classic Dylan song.

10. Sock Man. This guy comes in every night with a box of socks, selling them for $2.00 per pair. I swear to God, I'm convinced he's tried to sell me back the socks I've lost in the dryer.

All is not lost though. I've come to realize a few things while waiting for my underwear and towels to dry...

1. I own entirely too many pairs of jeans.

2. Latina women scare the shit out of me and could kick my ass all over laundryland.

3. I finally figured out why they invented 30 pound capacity washers...

(Yeah. I'm a bitch. Tell me something I don't know.)

The End of a Season

2006-09-05T00:00:00.000-05:00

As I look out my window, I see a gray sky before me, a hint of the winter that's on it's way. The plants on my balcony are slowly losing their flowers, and there's an undeniable chill in the air. Very soon now, I'll be waking up before the sun rises, burying myself under the blanket for ten more minutes, dreaming away the bitter cold that faces me on my commute to work.

The leaves on the trees are turning, and there are turtlenecks and wool coats in my very near future. Soon there will be snow on the ground, and we'll all be digging our way out. It's enough to depress anyone, but oddly enough, I'm looking forward to it. I welcome the change.

This summer has been a learning experience for me, to say the least. I've discovered a strength in myself I never knew I had. I've realized that it's ok for me to go after the things that I want, and to say no to the things I don't. I've moved forward through difficulty, and come out the other side better than ever. Sure, there are regrets, but to dwell on those would bring me back to the place I worked so hard to remove myself from.

I deserve the happiness I have, because I earned it, created it, and I now look forward to the next season of my life.

My New Place...A Special HNT

2006-08-31T00:00:00.000-05:00

Since I've had so many requests for pictures of the new place, I've decided to show you all a part of me that no one (well, except Mona) has ever seen...my home. That's about as personal as it gets, eh?

The kitchen...

Where the blogging magic happens...

And the best part...what I get to look at every night.
Not bad. Not bad at all.

I'd show you the bedroom, but I didn't make the bed. Sorry. I know you're all disappointed. Have a happy Thursday, everyone!

XOXOX,

Trixie

P.S. Happy Birthday, Dad! I love you!

I'm Alive...But Just Barely

2006-08-30T00:00:00.000-05:00

It's done. Well, for the most part, anyways. There's still some pictures left to hang, and a few other odds and ends to take care of, but this bitch of a move is finally near it's completion. I ache in parts that I never knew I had, but I guess lugging boxes up to the third floor will do that to you.

I'm exhausted, but sitting here on my couch now, staring out the windows at the lit-up Chicago skyline, I know it was totally worth it. I love this place, and for the first time in God knows how long, I feel completely at home. I've worked hard for it, and for once, I can honestly say I deserve every bit of happiness this space has thus far provided.

So, who's up for a house-warming party?

XOXOX,

Trixie

p.s. Thanks to Andre and the guys at Aaron Brothers Movers. You rock. I don't know how I would have done it without you. At 33, I'm well past the point of plying my friends with beer and pizza as payment for carting the heavy shit.

Must've Been Smokin' the Crack Pipe

2006-08-23T18:16:00.000-05:00

Can someone please tell me why I insisted on getting a bigger place? This moving shit sucks. I just needed to get that off my chest. Back on Tuesday, unless I die of exhaustion first.

XOXOX,

Trixie

And the Winner Is...Plus Other Crap

2006-08-21T00:00:00.000-05:00

Thanks to everyone who voted on the costume selection. The "Aye, Matey's" have it (sorry, I couldn't resist the pun). This is the one I'll be getting. The party isn't until October, but I promise to take pictures just as soon as it arrives.

Anyhoo, there's a whole lotta stuff going on at the moment here in Trixieland. I'm moving in to a new apartment next Monday, so I'm going to take a break from blogging until that following Tuesday. Hopefully, things will have calmed down enough by then for me to give you all the attention you deserve.

Have a wonderful week everyone, and if any of you out there are actually crazy enough to want to help me pack, please, drop me a line. Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to get many responses to this?

XOXOX,

Trixie

Please Help Me HNT

2006-08-17T00:00:00.000-05:00

I need your help. I'm going to a pirate-themed party, and I can't decide which costume to get. I've narrowed it down to the two below. Here's where you come in. I'll buy which ever one gets the most votes, and of course, I'll post a picture of me in the winning costume for an HNT following the party. Deal?

I LOVE this one, but I hate the hat. Sorry. The hat's out.

I like the hat on this one, and the dress is a bit sexier.

Results will be counted and announced on Friday morning! Thanks!

XOXOX,

Trixie

Really, With The Boobs? Really?*

2006-08-16T00:00:00.000-05:00

*Yes, Stacy Ballis, I'm openly stealing a portion of that catch phrase from you. Hope you're not upset. Imitation, after all, is the sincerest form of flattery.

I've written about my periods here before. They hurt, worse and worse each month, and obviously, August won't be an exception. All day long at work, the only thing I could do (between trips to the bathroom because I thought I would puke) was sit in my chair, doubled over, praying for death to take me swiftly. Apparently, though, the Reaper is enjoying bearing witness to my pain, 'cuz I'm still here, and my ovaries are thump-thump-thumping away. Bastard.

I've been noticing a new trend lately, too. My boobs hurt so much that it feels as if they've been used as punching bags. No "funbags" here, I'm afraid. It's probably a good thing that I'm single at the moment. If anyone came near them, I'd be forced to chop off their hands. Yes. They hurt that much. I've taken five Advil so far, but they haven't even made a dent.

I've decided to drink a half a bottle of Jameson tonight, and pass out until tomorrow. It may not take the pain away, but maybe in the morning my attention will be shifted to a pounding head instead. Anything is better than what I feel like now.

All of this in the name of procreation. Oy. If you know me at all, then you know there's some irony there.

They've Got To Be Kidding Me

2006-08-15T00:00:00.000-05:00

While doing my usual morning perusal of blogs and news on the net, I came across an article from the Washington Post that outlines the Transportation Security Administration's new regulations concerning carry-on baggage. The complete story can be found here.

Like most of you, I'm sure, I'm not very concerned about the inconvenience of being unable to bring liquids on a plane, or checking my luggage, even though I've had bags that have ended up in both Newfoundland and Copenhagen. Better safe than sorry, right? But what I am concerned with are the facts and figures that this Post piece presented regarding the TSA's budget. Here are a few excerpts:

"The TSA, which has a budget of $6.2 billion and has seen its number of screeners drop to 43,000 from 55,000 in 2002, is one of the last lines of defense in the country's efforts to battle terrorism, particularly attacks directed at airplanes."

"The TSA should have banned liquids long ago or pushed more aggressively to develop technology to detect them because the threat from such explosives has been well-established for at least a decade, critics argue. They also wonder why the Department of Homeland Security, of which the TSA is a part, has seen its research and development budgets slashed from $110 billion in 2003 to $44 billion this year."

I did a little research of my own, and found that there are a little over 300 of what would be considered "major" airports in the US, of which, a little more than 100 are considered "International." So let's do the basic math here, folks. 43,000 divided by 300 gives us an average of 143.33 screeners per airport. Now, of course, there's probably more security in cities like New York, LA & Chicago, and less in say, Oshkosh. But seriously, ARE THEY KIDDING ME? This doesn't exactly inspire a whole lot of confidence in the TSA's efforts to keep the skies "friendly," not that I had much in them to begin with.

And where did all the other $66 billion in the research and development budget go? Well, I think we all know the answer to that question. So let me see if I understand this correctly. We're fighting a war in Iraq under the guise of "freedom and democracy" for their people, while here in the States, a mother has to take a drink of her own pumped breast milk before boarding an airplane? Something is seriously rotten in the State of the United.

I, for one, can't wait until January 20th, 2009.

Help?

2006-08-14T00:00:00.000-05:00

Ok, so, I've had something on my mind for a while. I have this idea for a new website, and I think it could be a whole hell of a lot of fun. However, before I even consider starting it, I need to do a bit of research. Here's where you come in...

Without getting in to too many details that may give it away, I'm looking for someone who can answer a few questions regarding the legality of taking photographs of the general public. If you're a photographer, or even better, an attorney with working knowledge of how NOT to get sued by posting candid pictures on the web, please e-mail me personally at bbreath@gmail.com.

xoxox,

Trixie

Computer Geek HNT #2

2006-08-10T00:00:00.000-05:00

You can see the sister HNT to this here...

And you can buy ones just like them here.

Lucky Girl

2006-08-09T00:00:00.000-05:00

I had a rough day at work today. Not rough as in "this totally sucks," just rough as in "man, how am I going to get all this done?". At the point of a near stress-out, my boss (whose timing is always impeccable) walked in front of my desk with a stupid grin on his face, waved at me and then moved in a manner that suggested he was walking down a flight of stairs. I couldn't help but laugh out loud, and his act of goofiness reminded me just how lucky I am to have my job. Even at the craziest of times, I've still got it better than 99% of the people I know.

I decided to write a list of all the things I love about my job. I thought I'd post it for all of you, not to make you jealous, but to let you know that if you hate your job, there really ARE better opportunities out there. Here they are, in no particular order:

Twelve Reasons Trixie Loves Her Job:

1. Daily Starbuck's runs are considered a necessity, not a luxury.

2. It's part of my job description to keep the office stocked with the following at all times for general consumption:
a) Assorted chocolate candies (must include Kit Kat & Trix bars)
b) Assorted Munchies (microwave popcorn, Macadamia nuts, etc.)
c) A large bottle of Grey Goose Vodka in the freezer, and a bottle of Patron Silver tequila, with appropriate mixers
d) Assorted bottles of beer in the fridge
e) Assorted bottles of wine

3. On a regular basis, my boss rides his bike throughout the office, quoting 40 Year-Old Virgin lines.

4. We order lunch in every day. The company pays.

5. I can wear a baseball hat & jeans.

6. 4 weeks paid vacation, baby, plus all federal (and some Jewish) holidays off.

7. I can scream "FUCK" out loud, and no one cares.

8. I can scream "FUCKING ASSHOLE" out loud, and no one cares.

9. If I tell my boss I have cramps, he leaves me alone for the entire day.

10. I recently received a 10% raise. Who gives out 10% raises anymore?

11. If I go out drinking with the boss' wife, SHE tells HIM that I won't be getting in to work until later the next day.

12. They enable me to feed my office supply addiction. I buy whatever I want, when I want. You should see my collection of Post-It notes.

So you see, I've got it pretty damned good. Obviously, they'll have to drag me, kicking and screaming, from this job. But if I ever do have to leave it, who wants first shot at it?

Yeah, I'm Going There.

2006-08-08T00:00:00.000-05:00

Last night, on the way back from O’Hare, I had a hellish train ride that prompted this post. Now, before I say anything else, I want to make one thing perfectly clear. I am not now, nor will I ever be a racist. The color of a person’s skin, or the nation they come from, has absolutely no bearing on my impression of them, but this really did happen to me, and I’m not going to change it so that someone(s) won’t be offended.

I do, however, have to admit to discriminating against certain types of people based on their words and actions, and I make no apology for it. I have absolutely no tolerance for ignorance and rude behavior, especially when it comes in the form of someone’s complete lack of concern for those around them. Two things happened on that train ride home that had me reeling, and quite honestly, it kept me up thinking for most of the night.

Before I continue, though, I want to explain to you how I feel about the words “black” and “white” when describing a person, because I’m going to use them rather frequently. First, I am completely ok with being called “a white woman,” because, well, I am. Actually, I’m pinkish, but it’s the common term to use when describing a person of the Caucasian persuasion. However, I have a very hard time calling someone “black” because apparently, it isn’t PC anymore. I’m supposed to say “African American,” but I have a hard time with that too.

Let’s face it; whether your family’s ancestry is Chinese, Dutch or Nigerian, if you’re born in the US, as well as multiple generations of your family, you’re an American. Let me put it another way. If a black man went to France and someone asked him where he came from, he’d say America. He wouldn’t say America, by way of Africa, just as I wouldn’t say America, by way of Poland and Italy. Why is there such a need to qualify it?

Now back to the train ride and my issues…

When you catch a late flight in to O’Hare and hop on the El to get home, the train is usually packed. Travelers on their way home are joined by airport employees who have just finished their shift for the day. Sitting behind me were two young black women, both airport employees, speaking, nay, yelling at the top of their voices. Here’s a portion of their conversation, verbatim:

“Shit, girl, my motherfuckin’ boyfriend got his ass locked up again last night.”

“Damn. What that crazy ni**er do this time?”

Everyone on the train was looking at them. Some rolled their eyes, and some shook their heads. There was a family with three children sitting across from me, and I could see the father’s face turn red with anger. So I did what no one else was willing to do. I politely said, “Ladies, there are kids on the train. Would you please tone down the profanities?” My statement was promptly met with, “Why don’t you mind your own fucking business, bitch?”

After that exchange, I remained in my seat, forced to listen the two women behind me loudly saying things like “Who does that crazy white bitch think she is?” and “That cracker-ass bitch better keep her fucking mouth shut or I’ll kick her ass.” I refused to move, not willing to let them see how upset they’d made me. No one came to my defense, not even the pissed off father. He actually looked scared. When it was time for me to get off the train, I left to the sound of the women laughing and saying, “Yeah, you better run, bitch, before we get off this train and fuck you up.”

To say I was shaking at that point would be an understatement, but it wasn’t out of fear. I knew they wouldn’t do anything to me in front of all of those people. It was pure anger and disgust that had my adrenaline pumping. Amazing, isn’t it? All of that simply because I had the gall to ask them to do what common decency states as appropriate public behavior.

These women couldn’t care less who heard them, and even less if people were offended by them. Why is the blatant harassment of people still socially acceptable? Worse, why would someone, whose race is constantly fighting off negative stereotypes, actually behave in the very manner that created the stereotypes in the first place? Help me here, people, because I’m utterly baffled.

The other thing that bothers me is the blatant use of the “N” word. Now, we’ve already established the fact that I’m white, and being so, I cannot possibly imagine how that word makes a black person feel when it’s directed toward them. But why is it ok for black people to call each other that?

I grew up in a neighborhood where being white made me a minority. My group of friends covered nearly a full spectrum of skin colors, and none of us gave a rat’s ass where the others’ families came from. Two of the boys in our group of friends, Shay and Gerard were black, not that any of us really noticed. We all just loved being together.

I clearly remember being at Gerard’s house for dinner one night, when after a silly argument, Gerard said to Shay, “Ni**er, please!” His mother heard it, flew across the room, and slapped him so hard across the face that you could see the imprint of her hand.

It didn’t matter to her that it was said in jest. It was derogatory, plain and simple, and she let him know it. So why, in this day and age of supposed enlightenment, is this ugly word still being used, and by the people whose ancestors fought so hard to have removed from our nation’s vocabulary?

Can someone please explain this to me, because I really don’t understand any of it? What is it going to take for all of us to be respectful and kind to one another? Is it really that hard?

A Brown-ish HNT

2006-08-03T00:00:00.000-05:00

My new brown Chucks, baby. F'ing adorable.

News Flash

2006-07-28T00:00:00.000-05:00

THE CHICAGO CUBS SUCK A BAG OF DICKS

You may now return to your regularly scheduled programming.

A Snot-Nosed HNT

2006-07-27T00:00:00.000-05:00

Yep, that's me, blowing my nose. I've got a wicked flu. Still managed to get some cleavage in there for you, though. Do you see how much I care about you?

Putting My Mouth Where the Money Is

2006-07-26T00:00:00.000-05:00

A) YES, I meant to say it that way.

and

B) Get your minds out of the gutter! I know what you're all thinking, but no, I haven't become a hooker.

I did my first professional voice-over today. For five minutes worth of "work" (read: speaking), I got paid two hundred and fifty smackeroos. I didn't even have to take my clothes off! Can you say "HOLY SHIT?"

I could get used to this.

Excuse Me, Did You Say 38???

2006-07-25T00:00:00.000-05:00

I suppose you could say I'm not a "normal" girl when it comes to the size and shape of my body. I'm not skinny by any means, but I really never worry about my weight. Of course, like every woman, there's a few places here and there that I wouldn't mind toning up, but I've never been one to stand in front of a mirror for hours, fretting over the size of my ass. I don't own a scale, I can rarely be bothered to work out, and while I eat relatively well, I don't deny myself a treat because I'm worried about the extra calories.

In other words, I like me just the way I am. That said, I got a serious shock this past weekend. My apathy turned around and gave me a swift kick in the posterior.

On Saturday afternoon I went to a seamstress to be fitted for a dress. Part of the process required stripping down to my skivvies and having all my "regions" measured. Now, other than buying a bra, I don't ever need to know my measurements. The last time I had them taken I was in my twenties, trying on a bridesmaid's dress with the girls, and we were all drunk. I didn't ask the old Polish lady at David's for them, and she never offered them up.

So on Saturday, Mrs. Malec was doing her thing with her tape measure around my boobs, and all of I sudden, I hear her say, "38."

"Excuse me, did you say 38?", I asked.

"Yep. 38."

"How's that possible? I wear a 34 bra. Maybe a 36."

"That's under the breast, honey. This is across the nipple."

All I could think was, "Oh my God, I'm HUGE."

So, she keeps on working. Waist 28 inches, shoulder-to-nip (yes, this is necessary) 9 inches, hips 38 INCHES??? You've got to be kidding me. Now, when I think about it logically, that's hourglass, baby. When combined with my height (5'7") and weight (130 pounds), those measurements don't seem so large, and I still like me just the way I am. But CHRIST! I guess I just didn't expect to hear those numbers. When I hear 38, I think of Mansfield or Monroe and their fabulous figures, not mine.

I guess my Grandmother was right after all. I do have "good, strong, Italian child-bearing" hips. Too bad they'll go to waste on the likes of me.

Will Be???

2006-07-24T00:00:00.000-05:00

I really don't know WHAT to say about this one.

An HNT In Verse

2006-07-20T00:00:00.000-05:00

Brassiere, brassiere
So glad you're not here
The binding, the aching I no longer fear

You see, you bitch
I've found a new friend
The shelf tank has given my misery end.

I bounce, I breathe
I wander and play
Now that your underwire has gone away

If there's anything I'll miss
It's your shape and your lift
But the freedom I feel is a much better gift

So ciao, goodbye
Adios and adieu
There's no way in hell I'll ever miss you.

Pure Fucking Brilliance

2006-07-19T00:00:00.000-05:00

I'm half-tempted not to post this, because I'm afraid you'll all leave me for her, but it's too goddamned genius NOT to share. Check out this post from Angie over at Blogdiggidy. An e-mail exchange between world super-powers? How in the world does one come up with an idea like this? Nothing I write will ever be this fucking funny, and I'm jealous as hell. Clever girl.

Enjoy!

Love, Trixie

It's My Blog, and I'll Break Up If I Want To

2006-07-18T00:00:00.000-05:00

I had no plans of addressing this topic for several reasons. First, because it's really no one else's business, and second, because I have a great deal of respect for the feelings of the now ex-BF. Unfortunately, I feel as though my hand has been forced a bit. After some rather nasty comments from someone (Yes, I'm referring to you, Chris from Sydney, at IP address 202.86.116.147, you disgusting fuck. Here's a hint, you coward. Look for a sitemeter symbol BEFORE spewing your venom. I know EXACTLY who you are.) who neither knows me, the ex-BF or our situation, I've chosen to reconsider my position and spill it.

The truth of the matter is this...I fell in love. But falling in love long distance is NOT the same as falling in love up close and personal. All you have are the words shared between you, and those words, when mixed with the desire to be loved, are a potent drug.

Let me begin by saying this, and let it NEVER be misunderstood. He was, and is, a wonderful man. I have not one ill word to say about him, and never will. He is genuine and kind, and capable of giving a great deal of himself. When this began, I knew I was lucky to have him in my life. But as I'm certain most of you know, WANTING to spend the rest of your life with someone, and actually being ABLE to do it are two different things.

You see, because of the distance, we skipped one very important step. We weren't really friends. We were passionate about each other from a short time spent together, but passion and romance does not a friendship make. We didn't really KNOW each other in the all-important, day-to-day kind of way that's necessary for any successful relationship.

Once he was here, it became abundantly clear to me that we are, simply put, different. I realized quickly that I am incapable of giving him what he needs...what he wants. The details aren't important, but the ways in which we express ourselves in person are so wholly opposite from one another, and while I wish I were able to change (trust me, I've tried) for him, the truth of the matter is that I can't. Or won't. Or both. I am who I am, and anything else would be a lie.

I felt that it was important to be honest with him as soon as I was sure of my feelings. The last thing I ever wanted to do was to hurt him. He traveled a long way, and put a great deal of trust in "us." But had I been the one to make the journey, the feelings would have been the same. When something is not meant to be, it's best to speak up and allow the healing to begin. I want it known that I did not come to this decision without a great deal of though, and that I think anyone who insinuates that it wasn't as gut-wrenching for me as it was for him is a complete moron. In the end, this WAS a mutual decision between the two of us.

The beauty of this, though, is that through being honest with one another, that missing friendship has begun to form. We're learning more about one another every day. I enjoy his company, and I value him as a person. And while there's always a part of me that thinks this break-up is a shame, and will probably wonder "What if?" from time to time, I'm certain that I've made the right decision. In the end, isn't that the most important thing one can say?

Fat Kids Piss Me Off

2006-07-17T00:00:00.000-05:00

Picture this:

You're walking up a set of stairs. Ahead of you is an extremely obese person, moving slowly, huffing and puffing and holding on to the hand rail for dear life. Every second step he stops, wheezing heavily, taking in as deep a breath as his overworked lungs will allow. His face is red. You know his heart is about to pound out of his chest.

Sad, right? Pathetic, even. Maybe you feel sorry for them. Maybe you don't. Maybe you think that they need to drop the Twinkie. Maybe you think that their pituitary gland isn't working properly. But you DO think about it, and that's my point. EVERYONE takes notice of someone THAT large.

Now consider this:

The person was no more than ten years old, and he was already double my size.

Who is responsible for this? Who do you blame for allowing a child to be that unhealthy? Of course it's possible that this child has an illness that prevents him from being active, or worse, that causes his weight to be so completely out of control. But explain to me, then, why, as I walked around a theme park the other day, I saw such a vast amount of severely obese children? I blame the parents. YES, you read that correctly. THE FAT, LAZY BREEDERS who popped these kids out.

We live in an age of children being raised by the television, the computer and the X-Box. Gone are the days of playing in the back yard with your kid. Why take the time to plan activities for your family when plopping them in front of the old boob-tube will keep them quiet and out of your hair for a few hours? Why not throw in some blue-colored, processed snack and some saccharine-filled soft drink to shut them up while you're at it? For me, it's child-neglect, plain and simple...not to mention cruel.

Now I already know what some of you will say. I've heard all the excuses, and most of them are bullshit.

"I have to work long hours to support them and don't have enough time to play with them every day."

"It's easier to take them out to dinner because I don't have the time to cook."

"My kid is a picky eater."

"My kid would rather stay in and play video games than go outside and play."

"It's too dangerous now to let my kids ride their bike around the neighborhood."

My response to all of these is exactly the same. YOU'RE the PARENT, so ACT like one.

So you work long hours, so what? If you love your child as you should, you MAKE time for activities with them. You don't have enough time to prepare a decent, healthy meal? How long does it take to cook a chicken breast and make a salad? Fifteen, twenty minutes? Your kid only likes to eat sugary, fatty foods? Stop buying the crap and stock up on some fruits and veggies. If their hungry, they'll eventually eat it. Your kid wants to play video games? Limit their time to thirty minutes a day. Think the world is too dangerous for them to go out alone? Get your fat ass on a bike and go on a ride with them!

Some of you may agree with me, some of you don't, and frankly, I don't give a shit. I'm not a parent, and I possibly never will be. But for all the parents of chubby children everywhere, the way I see it is this...what could POSSIBLY be more important than the health and well-being of your child?

My mother has always said that "parenting is a privilege, NOT a right," and I believe that now more than ever.

A Self-Imposed Time Out

2006-07-10T09:00:00.000-05:00

Dearest Boys and Girls,

I'm taking some much needed, much desired time off. I'm a bit burnt out on words at the moment. Take care of yourselves. See you in a few weeks. I'll miss you.

XOXOXO,

Trixie

A Happy Birthday HNT

2006-07-06T00:00:00.000-05:00

No, it's not my birthday. But it is an important birthday.
Sixty years ago this week, the bikini started showing up on beaches everywhere.
So in honor of that, here's my bikini HNT.

Brazilian Bitch-Slaps, Transvestites and the 72nd Airborne

2006-07-05T00:00:00.000-05:00

Well, I still have my liver after this past weekend. Not because I necessarily want it, but because I got so sick last night that I couldn't drink. Liver 1, Stomach 0. As for the rest of it, I'll re-cap in bullets. (Damn, Pat. I'm ripping you off again.)

- After work on Thursday, we went to Grant Park for the Taste of Chicago. I had the following, in order: Eli's Cheesecake (with strawberries), Sweet Baby Ray's Ribs, fried dough with powdered sugar, saganaki, and corn on the cob. I love the Taste, but man, I'm glad it only comes around once a year. I'd be as big as a house.

Side note: I heard plenty of conversations there that sounded like English, but not quite. At the risk of sounding racist (I swear to GOD I'm not), though, I have to say that I just don't get the point of Ebonics. If it's supposedly THAT close to English, than why not just SPEAK English. We say motherfucker in the Queen's tongue as well.

- Friday night was pretty uneventful. A little scrabble, a few beers and three episodes of the funniest freaking TV show I've ever seen, Lucky Louie. Best line so far? While telling his wife why they shouldn't have another baby, a very broke Louie says, "Your pussy is the gateway to financial ruin." If you haven't seen it yet, get your ass in front of your TV set and turn on HBO right now. I highly recommend it.

- On Saturday morning, we went to the zoo. A couple of interesting points to make here. First: No matter how much work you have done to become a woman, you can never hide the Adams Apple, and if you're pre-op, please do a good tuck-job before wearing a pair of coochie-cutter shorts. Nothing is nastier than seeing someone's nuts squeezed in to a pair of too-tight shorts. That said, her boyfriend didn't seem to mind as much as I did. Second: I don't think I want kids. After being surrounded by strollers and screaming and spontaneous peeing all day, I'm quite certain I've made up my mind. I don't have it in me to be a breeder.

- We had a good time at the bar on Saturday night, even though I worked. My friend from DC was in town, from this point further dubbed the Super Secret Agent, and he brought a solid group of drinkers in to see me. Greatest line of the night goes to SSA while messing with a particularly drunk woman (and Trixie wanna-be) who believed he really was a secret agent. "Yeah, I was in the military. 72nd Airborne." If you don't get that, look it up. I nearly fell over.

After the SSA and company left, the bar died down. Just a few regulars scattered around, playing darts or pool. Hayden, one of my favorite regulars was shooting pool with a friend, when out of the blue, his Brazilian girlfriend stormed in, screamed her bloody head off at him, cracked him, open handed, square across the jaw and then stormed off. The whole bar went dead-silent. When I asked him what had happened, he said that he blew off watching the Brazil soccer match with her and her friends to play pool with his buddy. Later, while talking with some of the regulars, I asked them if they'd also thought her reaction was just a little extreme, one of them said, "Well you know those South Americans. They really love their soccer." The award goes to Tony for the second funniest line of the night.

- Sunday was spent relaxing and having a few drinks with the SSA and company. No crazy shit there, unless you consider a bunch of grown men nearly brawling in the middle of Clark St. crazy.

- Went to work on Monday (yes, I'm employed by Communists) for a half-day, and then the bosses took us all to lunch at the greatest deli in the Midwest, Eleven City Diner. If you live in Chicago, don't walk, RUN there as fast as you can. This place makes me wish I'd grown up Jewish.

I was supposed to meet the SSA & Co. out that night, but the bug I've had over the past few days finally caught up to me. I spent the rest of my evening hugging porcelain.

So that's my weekend, in a nutshell. Tonight is going to be spent protecting my ears from the fireworks my ghetto-ass neighbors have been blowing up since ten this morning. Pray for me people.

Hugs and Kisses,

Trixie

tink

2006-07-01T15:09:00.000-05:00

My "I Had Something More Creative Planned But I'm Just Too Damned Lazy" HNT

2006-06-29T00:00:00.000-05:00

Yeah, so that's all you're getting this week.

Well, This is Disheartening...

2006-06-28T00:00:00.000-05:00

I'd be a bit more upset if two of my co-workers hadn't also received this today. Can someone please tell me where the actual "fortune" is on this thing? Come on! The least they could do is lie to me.

Bottled Sperm, Bare Asses & Animal Carcasses

2006-06-26T00:00:00.000-05:00

Dear Friends,

Fuck me (A statement, NOT a request.). What a long weekend. To be honest, I'm still a bit foggy. There's so much to tell, and I've so little time. I can only cover the highlights. So here goes...

At about noon on Friday, I received this text message from my friend Leadley: Afternoon cocktails?

Me: Uh, some of us actually work for a living, you know.

Leadley: Later then.

Me: Ok, where?

Leadley: Brian and Steve's new place.

T-R-O-U-B-L-E. But me? I'm always up for a challenge. So, after work, I picked up the BF, and we drove towards Uptown to meet Leadley. What transpired next can only be described as drunken debauchery gone awry.

Leadley was on a mission. See, he's petrified of flying, and he had a 10 o'clock flight to Vegas the next morning. His idea? Get as fucked up as humanly possible so that he could pass out the moment he boarded the plane. Here's what I remember:

1. Many, many shots of Jameson poured by Alex, the "flair" bartender. Oh, yeah! He also breathes fire.

2. I met Mr. Krugy! I can't wait to see the sick comments you guys will come up with for this one.

3. There were women walking around in their underwear in the bar. Apparently, they've got a burlesque show every Friday evening. Unfortunately, none of them were hot, so we left.

Everything else after that was pretty much a blur, and I still don't know if Leadley ever made it to Vegas.

Obviously, Saturday was pretty much a wash. Outside of getting up long enough to have breakfast, we slept until I had to get up and get ready for work. It was a relatively uneventful night, but the money was solid and I didn't have to tell anyone to fuck off, so there's that.

On Sunday afternoon, the BF & I went to the tail-end (no pun intended) of the Gay Pride parade. It's always a great deal of fun, and perfect for watching people in all of their hedonistic glory. Nothing but peace, love and happiness...with a little ecstasy thrown in for good measure. We saw lots of this:

And plenty of this...

Now, don't get me wrong. I LOVE gay men. LOVE, LOVE, LOVE them. But I don't need to see their hairy asses. I don't want to see ANYBODY'S hairy ass. It's just wrong, people! Can we please go back to last year's trend of white tanktops, camouflage kilts and combat boots?

After we had our fill of people-watching, we headed off to our next destination...Dolly's Revenge. This is an annual event thrown by the Greek boyfriend of a co-worker which celebrates all things "lamb." This was the first year that I was able to attend, and I'm still not sure how I feel about it.

Walking in to the party, all I could see was a gutted animal, roasting on a spit. I'm by no means vegetarian, but to be honest, seeing that thing up there, split open and roasting, nearly made me vomit. Worse yet was the fact that they were playing Yanni in the background. Neither the BF nor I could take it any longer, so we left...and got Thai food instead.

I think that pretty much covers it. Stay tuned for next weekend...I've got friends in town, and they've thrown down the gauntlet. I'm pretty sure I'll need a new liver by next Monday.

Have a great week!

Love,

Trixie

A Very Levi's HNT

2006-06-22T00:00:00.000-05:00

I figured you've all seen enough pictures of my boobs, and are probably quite bored with them. I thought an ass shot was in order, Happy HNT!

Wikipedia Rocks

2006-06-21T00:00:00.000-05:00

As I'm having a difficult time today coming up with anything even remotely interesting to write, I've decided to do a "MEME" that I saw a while back. Here's how it works. Go to Wikipedia and type in your birth month and day. The year is unimportant. List three of each of the following that happened on your birthday: events, births and deaths. So here goes...October 29th. Yes, that makes me a Scorpio.

***Note: I started writing this earlier today, needing only to finish the "Deaths" portion. However, since I had to go to a memorial service tonight, I think that would be rather morbid. So I'm going to skip that part.

EVENTS

1. In 1863, sixteen countries met in Geneva to form the International Red Cross. The Swiss always have the best ideas...The army knife, the Swatch, & Nestles chocolate. The Swiss rock...as long as you don't ask them to choose sides.

2. In 1886, the ticker-tape parade is invented in New York when office workers started dumping their wastebaskets out their office windows on the day the Statue of Liberty was dedicated. Leave it to my fellow Americans to celebrate a national event by throwing garbage in the street.

3. In 1969, the first ever computer-to-computer link was established on ARPANET, the big, bad Grand Daddy of the Internet. Weird fact: Bill Gates was born on October 28th. Different year, though. But coincidence? I think not.

BIRTHS

1. Yasmin LeBon , British Model (1964). AKA, the bitch who stole my future husband, Simon (of Duran Duran fame), and shattered my teenage heart. Coincidentally, Simon's birthday is October the 28th.

2. Niki de Saint Phalle , French Sculptor, Painter and Film Maker (1930). A woman after my own heart. Combined paint containers & firearms to create works of art.

3. Kate Jackson, American Actress (1948). A Charlie's Angel. Need I say more?

Seems to me that some pretty cool shit happened on my birthday...namely ME being born. But that's just my opinion. Feel free to form one of your own.

Tell Me Why...

2006-06-19T10:01:00.000-05:00

...I don't like Mondays. I want to shoot the whole day down.

God damn, I'm getting old. When I was in my twenties, I could work all day at one job, tend bar at night, drink until 6AM, sleep for an hour and then get up and do it all over again the next day, all without feeling like I'd been hit by a truck. I could party like the rock star I was, then crash just one day a week and never be the worse for wear. Now, though, as the early-thirties cruelly introduce themselves to me, I find it usually takes me far longer to recover from any type of fun I endeavour to have. This weekend was no exception. Bugger.

Friday night was spent recovering from the Thursday night's festivities (thanks, BF & Mona). The BF & I went to Billy Goat's for dinner (Cheezeborger! Cheezeborger!), saw the new X-Men movie (nowhere near as good as the first two) and then went to bed early.

On Saturday, we got up and went to breakfast, and then headed straight to a bar to watch the US/Italy World Cup game. While there, the BF & I invited a few strangers to sit at our table since we had plenty of room and there was a serious lack of seating. As it turns out, they were a great deal of fun, AND had an extra ticket to the Cubs game, to which they invited the BF to join them while I was stuck schlepping booze at the bar.

The weather was beautiful, so even though the Cubs lost (there's a shocker), the bar was totally packed after the game. To say I got my ass handed to me would be an understatement, however, it was a lot of fun, and I made a shitload of cash. Plus, I got the BF and our new friends totally wasted, so it was a very good night indeed.

On Sunday we drove out to the burbs for the very first meeting of the BF and my parents, and I thought it went quite well. I'm pretty sure we haven't scared him off completely. All the boys drank beer and watched soccer, and bonded over the "Girls of the World Cup" issue of Playboy magazine (which, BTW, is addressed to MY MOTHER...very weird.). We gorged ourselves on everything from kebabs to brownie pie, and laughed our asses off at the dinner table. Special thanks to Nona for telling us about scraping the dead frog off the driveway. I think I'm still gagging.

All in all, it was a fun weekend, though I'm wiped out from it and will need another night to fully recover. Getting old really sucks sometimes. And now, some random shit inspired by the events of the weekend...

Anyone who drives a Hummer in a big city (where parking is near impossible and the cost of gas is over $3.25 per gallon) is a fucking idiot, and NO ONE will convince me otherwise.

I don't know how I haven't noticed this before, but HOLY CRAP are there a ton of transvestites on the corner of Belmont and Sheffield at 4 o'clock on a Sunday morning. Where do they all come from? Boystown is a few blocks in the other direction.

Can someone please tell me how much longer this Dan Ryan expressway construction is going to last? There is absolutely NO reason why it should take me an hour and a half to get to my parents' house on a SUNDAY afternoon.

Is it just me, or are the Italians the biggest pussies in the World Cup? Get off the ground, you big baby, and quit your complaining.

OH! One more question in reference to soccer. What the hell is that canned stuff they were spraying on the players' asses (down the back of their shorts) after they fell down?

Have a good day, everyone.

Love, Trixie

Falling Out of My Top HNT

2006-06-15T00:00:00.000-05:00

I really don't think I need to add a description to this. The title says it all.
Happy HNT!

The Proof Is In the Pen...The Lion's Pen

2006-06-14T00:00:00.000-05:00

I stopped by at Vixen's place today, and she posed this question to her readers: Do you believe God exists? Now, I for one, usually try to avoid such heated topics of conversation, preferring to stick to discussions of blowjobs and recreational alcohol abuse. But the lovely Miss Vixen is hella-cool, so I figured she'd have no problem with me posting my answer here.

Last week, Reuters posted this story:

Lioness in Zoo Kills Man Who Invoked God
Mon Jun 5, 2006 08:31 AM ET

KIEV (Reuters) - A man shouting that God would keep him safe was mauled to death by a lioness in Kiev zoo after he crept into the animal's enclosure, a zoo official said on Monday.

"The man shouted 'God will save me, if he exists', lowered himself by a rope into the enclosure, took his shoes off and went up to the lions," the official said.

"A lioness went straight for him, knocked him down and severed his carotid artery."

The incident, Sunday evening when the zoo was packed with visitors, was the first of its kind at the attraction. Lions and tigers are kept in an "animal island" protected by thick concrete blocks.

My answer, then, after reading this story? Yes, God most certainly exists, and She loves to punish stupid men, just as all women do.

Happenings

2006-06-12T00:00:00.000-05:00

Well, it seems as if my elbow is healing nicely. I've got a large, lovely scab where my skin used to be. I was certain with all the alcohol I'd consumed last week that my blood would be too thin to allow a scab to actually form. Yay, me! My body has a higher tolerance for the hooch than I'd originally thought.

Since I've been a bad little fairy lately and not posting, I thought I'd at least let you know what's been happening over the past week. So, here's a tiny re-cap for you...

Tuesday:
BF Arrives. Drive straight to the bar and enjoy some celebratory cocktails. Stay out WAY too late.

Wednesday:
Wake up feeling like hell from too much booze and a lack of solid sleep. Drink 8 bottles of water and take 10 Advil over the course of the day. Go to Fat Willy's for dinner and consume enough grease to kill a small mammal. See DaVinci Code and eat so much popcorn I am certain I'll explode. I don't spontaneously combust, but pass out rather early.

Thursday:
Well rested and fully recovered from Tuesday. Get up and go to work as BF tours the city for hours. Make plans to meet Crazy Ray for cocktails at the old stomping grounds, Mother Hubbard's. Things WILL get ugly. Meet BF & Ray at bar and proceed to drink countless beers and shots (thanks, Ray-Fucker). Decide going to ANOTHER bar is a good idea. Yay! Good times! Head to O'Hagan's where more beers and shots were in order. Ray pulls his Houdini act, so BF & I decide to have a nightcap at my bar. Go home, pass out. Still have NO idea when the elbow-wound occurred.

Friday:
Wake up feeling as if I've been kicked in the head. Go to work feeling as if I've been kicked in the head. Consume vast quantities of greasy breakfast food in vain effort to soak up the remainder of the alcohol in my system. Fails miserably. Go home, order pizza, watch a movie and pass out by 9:30pm.

Saturday:
Hooray! It's the weekend! Grab breakfast at Hollywood (the Belgian waffle sucked, BTW) and then headed to the Pier to meet the fam. Enjoyed a lovely lunch with sis, hubby-in-law, BF & niece and nephew. Said our goodbyes and ran off to Grant Park for the Chicago Blues Festival. Saw a large black man in head-to-toe red (including matching fedora and shoes), and decided once and for all that ONLY large black bluesman can pull that look off. Drank a few beers. Got a call from Crazy Ray. Let the games begin!

Went to Jake's. Remind myself that nothing good can happen in a bar that has a neon skull and crossbones sign in the window. NOTHING good does happen. Very, very drunk. Walk Ray to a cab. He decides he wants a burrito instead of going home. Have a brilliant idea. Let's go to my bar! Continue quest to become winner of alcoholic competition. Decide later it's a stupid idea and want to go home. Pass out.

Sunday:
Wake up around noon. Watch "Shawn of the Dead" with BF. He makes me breakfast. Clean up, shower and go shopping. Come home, watch "A Christmas Story" (Can you IMAGINE??? BF has NEVER seen it!!!), "Forty Year-Old Virgin" and "Layer Cake." Eat leftover pizza and pass out.

Monday:
Wake up, refreshed. Decide BF is right. Theme for this week? MODERATION.

Ouch

2006-06-09T00:00:00.000-05:00

This is what happens when you give Jameson's Irish Whiskey
to a fairy.

Have a great weekend everyone!

Something Else HNT

2006-06-08T00:00:00.000-05:00

I've gotten my hands on a picture of the world's smallest wiener.

* * *

You may not want to look. It's very, very scary.

* * *

You may wish to look away, but I urge you to continue...

* * *

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Schmutz, the office mascot, and the smallest wiener I've ever seen:

Sorry, I couldn't help myself. Yes, totally cheesy. I agree. But then again, so am I.

Isn't she cute?

The Boyfriend Is Coming! The Boyfriend Is Coming!

2006-06-06T00:00:00.000-05:00

Well, the BF will be here tonight, so I'm taking a few days off from blogging for some much needed quality time. He's been away for ages...so cut me some slack! But stop by on Thursday. I've got a very special HNT planned. Take care, everyone, and I'll see you soon!

Hugs and Kisses,
Trixie

Yeah, Yeah. I'm Slacking. Deal With It.

2006-06-05T00:00:00.000-05:00

Jeez, I've been busy. Work has been kicking my ass, and when I'm not there, I'm cleaning, shopping and prepping for the BF's impending arrival. Basically, I've had no time for sleep, let alone time to come up with a decent post. That includes today. I've got just enough time to go over the basics of the weekend. So, without futher ado...

Funniest Shit I've Ever Heard as a Bartender...

Redneck Male Customer: Do y'all have Cherry McGullicuddy's?

Fabulous Bartender (Me): No. Sorry, we don't.

RMC: What about regular Dr. McGullicuddy's?

Me: Nope. But I do have Rumpleminze. They're pretty much the same.

RMC: Hell no. I can't drink that shit. I gotta drive.

***For those of you who aren't familiar with McGullicuddy's and Rumpleminze, they're minty flavored liquors, usually done as shots. McGullicuddy's is a MUCH milder liquor than Rumpleminze, but still, IT'S BOOZE.

I'm Just Sayin'...

If you're very tall and you're dumb enough to wear a yellow shirt to a bar, you should neither expect not to have a "Big Bird" joke tossed your way, nor should you be pissed of by it. It's your own damned fault, stupid.

And the Award for Best Acrobatics Goes To...

...The Drunk Guy on the Bike. I swear to God, I'm not making this up. While walking out to my car after work, I watched a drunk man on a bike run in to a car, flip over his handlebars and land on the car's hood. Score: A perfect ten.

Drunk Chicks are Funny...

On the drive home, I saw a girl hobbling, by herself, down Sheffield Ave. On her right foot, she wore a four inch stiletto. On her left foot was the matching shoe, minus the heel. Ah, vanity.

Overall, a very good weekend I think.

XOXOX,
Trixie

All Business HNT

2006-06-01T00:00:00.000-05:00

Me and my beer, and my martini at a private event for my "real job." Can you say "wasted" anyone?
Sorry for the crummy pic, folks (Christ, my face looks fat, and could my hair be any rattier?), but my camera is occupied elsewhere at the moment. It's all I've got. I do, however, like the guilty look on my face. I have no idea what I did to bring about that expression...the events of that night are rather fuzzy.

Happy Half Nekkid Thursday!

ps: On location all day, so there may be no new posts until next week. I'm sure you'll live without me.

From Now On, I'm Leaving It to the Pros

2006-05-31T00:00:00.000-05:00

This is a public service announcement for my female readers. If you get queasy easily, you may want to skip this post.

* * *

With the BF's arrival only a week away, I've been busy shopping and cleaning in an attempt to make his stay here more comfortable. Hell, I've even planted flowers on my balcony. Obviously, I also have to do a few girly things and clean myself up as well. I have to look nice for the boy, right?

Last night, I decided to "prune" my own personal "garden" if you know what I mean. Now, normally, I'd leave the waxing task to my favorite Eastern European esthetician, Sophia. But while walking through the store the other day, I found this:

"What the hell," I thought. "I'll try this myself." Why spend sixty-five smackaroos when I can do it on my own? The packaging promised that the process would be easy and relatively pain free, and the instructions, upon opening the box, seemed easy enough to follow. I've had this done enough, and I've paid attention. There's no reason why I couldn't do this.

So, I plopped the little jar of wax in to the microwave (step one), set the timer for one minute, and dropped trow. When it was done cooking, I stirred the wax until it was smooth and creamy (step two). When I was satisfied that it was the right consistency, I touched it with the tip of my finger to test the temperature (step three). HOLY JESUS! That's hot. I decided to wait a minute and let it cool.

When the temp was bearable, I slathered on the pre-wax oil (step four) and then began the application of the wax (step five) with the small wooden spatula they supplied. Here's a few of the thoughts that went through my head at that moment:

"Christ, this is messy. It's going to suck cleaning this up."

"Shit, it's stuck to my fingernail. Crap, it actually removed the nail polish!"

"OUCH OUCH OUCH OUCH OUCH!"

I was still feeling relatively confident about it, even though it seemed a bit more difficult than the instructions. So, I waited for the wax to cool (step six) and then flicked up the corner of one of the edges (step seven). I pulled my skin taut in the opposite direction of the hair growth (step eight), counted to three (step nine - I added this step on my own) and pulled (step ten).

"HOLY MARY MOTHER OF GOD!!!"

What came next was the most excruciating pain I've ever felt in my life. Along with the hair, came part of my skin, and yes, even blood. Worse, the wax didn't stay together in an even strip. So to remove all of it, I had to pull, a piece at a time until all of it was gone, and take more skin along with it.

So this is my plea to you, ladies. DO NOT, under ANY circumstances, buy this product. The packaging LIES, I tell you. It is pure evil, and must be destroyed.

For any men who have been brave enough to read thus far, I hope you realize what pain we put ourselves through to look good for you. As for me and my brutalized skin, I'm going to let myself heal for a couple of days. Oh, and I have an appointment with Sophia on Friday. After this episode, I'll never trust my "garden" to anyone but a professional again. Take that however you'd like.

Stealing a Page

2006-05-30T00:00:00.000-05:00

Seeing as how I'm utterly unable to form a cohesive thought today, I thought I'd steal a page from my friend Pat (this is NOT an insult to his writing ability) and jot down some random shit that's floating around in my head.

I'm convinced that absolutely NOTHING good can come from wandering the streets drunk at 4 o'clock on a Sunday morning. Driving home from work the other day, I witnessed two fights, one near pedestrian death by a Cadillac and a Jeep smashed in to a light pole.

If you're married to someone who works in a bar, it would be wise to NOT get wasted and abuse her co-workers. If you do behave reprehensibly, however, it would be advisable to at least apologize.

I haven't had Dr. Pepper in years, and now I remember why. Holy crap, it makes me burp like crazy. What do they put in that stuff?

I'm pretty certain Father & Sons Restaurant tried to kill me last night. A word of advice, DO NOT order the Italian Beef. You'll be hugging porcelain all night.

I tried out a new grocery store today. I've decided that I prefer my local one better. I'll take dealing with screaming Mexican children over playing bumper-carts with self-important Lincoln Park bitches any day.

Still on the subject of groceries, does anyone REALLY cook anymore? Going up and down every aisle, I saw microwavable rice bags (which I must admit, I love), complete meals in a box, pre-cut fruit & veggies, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. Meat products, in a box? That can't possibly be good for you.

Pure Beech sheets rock. Seriously, it's like sleeping on a cloud. Huge props to Bed, Bath and Beyond.

And finally...

What's with these idiots on their cell phones in the bar at 3:00A.M.? Who the hell are they calling, anyways? I've said it before and I'll sat it again...someone better be maimed or dead if you're calling me at that God-awful hour.

Have a lovely Tuesday, everyone.

Happy Memorial Day! Get Wasted!

2006-05-29T01:29:00.000-05:00

Memorial Day. A holiday in honor of our veterans' contributions to their country and the American way of life. How do we celebrate it? By gorging ourselves with smoked & BBQ'ed meats and getting drunk on cheap beer. Says a lot, doesn't it?

And yes, I'm cranky today.

A Milestone of Sorts

2006-05-26T00:00:00.000-05:00

While checking my sitemeter this morning, I found out that there have been over 50,000 visits to my little piece of cyberspace. I realize, in the grand scheme of things, that it really isn't that much compared to other bloggers out there. But it made me smile nonetheless.

Thank you to everyone who has spent a bit of time with me during their busy days over the past 7 months. I've enjoyed your thoughts, comments and e-mails immensely. I've made some good friends along the way as well, and I'm extremely grateful for what this blog has brought in to my life. I'll try my best to keep on entertaining you, or, at the very least, put up numerous boob and ass shots on Thursdays.

Love, Trixie
XOXOX

Mathematical HNT

2006-05-25T00:00:00.000-05:00

THIS:

PLUS THIS:

EQUALS DRUNKEN SHOTS LIKE THIS:

AND A LATE-NITE RUN FOR THIS:

WHICH IS WHY I FEEL LIKE TOTAL ASS TODAY.
HAPPY HNT.

I Win the Employee of the Year Award

2006-05-24T00:00:00.000-05:00

We had a little snafu with a major client from across the pond last week. Well, actually, we had a HUGE snafu, and when your business is defined by deadlines like mine is, it doesn't pay to fuck up. I spent a good portion of my Monday cleaning up someone else's mess, and the client seemed quite satisfied. Due to the time difference, though, I offered my mobile number in case there were any issues. As unpredictable as technology can be sometimes, I figured it was best to play it safe.

At 7:45 this morning, I heard my phone ring. Realizing that the call had to be from our client (because everyone else in my life knows that somebody had better be dead if they're calling me that early), I leapt out of the shower and ran across the kitchen to grab my phone. Dripping wet. Naked. Without my contacts in my eyes.

For the next twenty minutes I stood in my kitchen, freezing cold, blind, soaking wet and naked, being verbally assaulted by some smarmy British doctor in that tone of voice that only smarmy British doctors seem to have. Do they teach that "I'm totally superior to you, because I'm a smarmy British doctor." tone of voice in med school in the UK? And yes, I'm well aware that I've said "smarmy British doctor" three (not including this one) times now.

Before we hung up our respective phones, I promised said smarmy British doctor that I would take care of the problem immediately, as the program was set to air in less than 3 hours in the UK. I called my boss (who, if I were playing the blame game, would be the person who fucked this all up originally) and told him about the situation. His response? "What do you want me to do about it?"

Motherfucker.

My response was, "I want you to fix this." To which, he replied, "Well, it sounds more like their problem than ours."

Double motherfucker.

"Ok, then, what do you expect me to tell this man, since we've royally fucked this up?" I asked. "I don't know," he said. "Tell him to call me, I guess."

Triple motherfucker.

"So let me get this straight. I've just stood here, naked, wet and blind, getting my ass chewed for the last 20 minutes by someone who, although a smarmy British doctor, has every right to be pissed off at us, and your response is, 'Tell him to call me.' ??? No, here's what you're going to do. Here's his number. You're going to call him and fix this. I'm going to dry off, get dressed, put some make-up on and go to Starbuck's. I'll be a little late this morning. It's in your hands now." And, with that, I hung up.

Oddly enough, I still have a job.

Holy Hell! What's That Smell?

2006-05-23T00:00:00.000-05:00

It's been an even busier day than usual around here (you know, the REAL job), what with taping season close to beginning and cleaning up other people's messes. I've got too much shit to do tonight, and it's all being pushed back because I'm stuck here at the office until God-Knows-When, so I only have a tiny window of opportunity to write this post.

So, just a quick question for my local readers...Can someone please tell me what the hell that horrific stink was in the West Loop today? I nearly puked up my frappucino while driving to the bank this afternoon. It smelled like a combo of rotten eggs and beer farts. What on EARTH could procure that kind of noxious odor, literally coating the entire neighborhood in stench?

If you live or work in the area, and know where that came from, please, drop me a line. I want to send a thank-you note to the perpetrator(s) for making me want to hurl all afternoon.

Further Proof That Alcohol+People=Idiocy

2006-05-22T00:00:00.000-05:00

I love tending bar sometimes. Sure, the fast cash is great, but better still is the huge amount of entertainment I derive from watching people make complete and utter fools of themselves when they're drunk. This Saturday night proved to be one of the most amusing nights to date. So, I'd like to say a personal little thank you to the cast of characters who made me laugh my ass off. You make what I do worthwhile.

To "The Man of Steel":

Hey, listen buddy. I'm really sorry we has to toss you out of the bar, but for some reason, the rest of our clientele doesn't appreciate the beauty that is the "Raging Alcoholic." Personally, I have no problem with someone speaking in tongues and foaming at the mouth. But let's be honest. You really were stinking up the joint, and that is something we simply can't have.

What I don't understand, however, is why you felt the need to run in to the middle of the street to voice your protest against the injustice of your ejection. There really are better ways of solving a problem than getting yourself hit by a cab. I mean, come on! You could have gotten yourself killed, and I know you practically gave Habeeb a heart attack.

I'm glad you're ok, though. I was very worried about you for a moment there. But, you know, I think the limp gives you a little character. It makes you seem, oh, just that much more pathetic. Maybe you can work it in to your panhandling act. A guy like you needs all the help you can get.

To "Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dumber":

I know that neither of you are attractive, intelligent or charming, and therefore have no luck with the ladies. I also know that's got to be a crappy way to go through life. But seriously, guys. Do you really think cock-blocking one another all night long over a weepy divorcee on her fifth martini is a good idea? She's wasted, and wants to throw the balls of every man she sees in a vise at the moment. Do the words "lost cause" mean anything to you? But thanks for the giggles nonetheless. It was so much fun to watch.

To "The Coke Whore":

Call me crazy, but I personally think there's nothing attractive about a woman who is so coked and hooched up that you can't stand up straight. That said, it was fun watching you slur your words and hit on men that wouldn't touch you even if they were wearing a Teflon condom. I have a question for you, though. Why do you bother getting all dressed up if you're going to behave like a dime store hooker?

And finally...

To "The Pussy":
Man, I knew you were going to be fun the moment you walked through the door in your RL button down, Dockers and Top-Siders. I nearly peed when I saw you, trailing five feet behind your girlfriend while she chatted on her cell phone, carrying her Banana Republic and Gap bags in your hands. I definitely laughed my ass off when you ran to the bar, asked what kind of chardonnay we have, and then ran back to tell her. But my favorite part was when you tried to pay with your Amex, and I told you we only accept cash. You actually had to run to your prissy bitch to grab what is probably your own cash to begin with. Let me ask you something. Were you born without balls, or did they shrivel back up inside you the day you met her?

I wish you all had been there with me to witness all of this. I swear, every word is true. I'm not talented enough to make this shit up. It almost makes the cash inconsequential. Almost.

For Him

2006-05-19T00:00:00.000-05:00

Oh, the Hell With It HNT

2006-05-18T00:00:00.000-05:00

I've posted pictures of everything from my boobs to my butt here on HNT. Not showing a real picture of me seems pretty much pointless at this stage in my blog. Adios anonymity. So, this is a picture of me (I'm the one in the black) and my dearest friend Mona at the fabulous Johnny O'Hagan's, with her permission, of course.

And once again, with her permission, Mona's ass makes it's first HNT appearance.

Quick, leave a comment before I sober up, realize what a terribly bad idea this is, and tear this post down.

* * *

Lastly, Happy 1st HNT Anniversary. Here's my very first, in honor of the occasion.

Yuck

2006-05-17T00:00:00.000-05:00

I've had a shitty day. I'll be back tomorrow.

Fill In the Blank

2006-05-16T00:00:00.000-05:00

Well, it was another long and boring weekend at the bar. The Cubs got their asses kicked once again, which meant that the pickings were slim as far as good customers go. I had to throw a regular customer out, which wasn't fun, but other than that, both nights were pretty uneventful.

So, as it usually goes on quiet nights, the topic of conversation amongst the few of us there turned to sex. Here's just a random sample:

Talking with two Asian-American regulars and their buddy Ross (the whitest man on the planet), I discovered that both Mark and Kevin have "Reverse Yellow Fever," meaning they're only attracted to white girls. Ross, on the other hand, loves hot Asian chicks. Interesting.

Also, when Ross was leaving, I asked him where he was heading off to. He said, "I'm going home to have sex with Miss Michigan." I've supplied a picture of the State of Michigan. Look closely and you'll understand what he meant. Poor bastard.

Later in the evening, we ended up playing a game called "In My Pants." The object is to start the sentence with an actual movie title, and end it with "in my pants," so that it makes sense. Here was my choice:

"Who's That Girl (bad Madonna movie) in my pants."

John, the doorman's choice:

"Anaconda in my pants."

Got it? Good. Because I want to hear what all of you can come up with. C'mon! I know how creative you guys are. Let's hear it. In lieu of good stories to tell you, I've decided I need you to entertain me. I'll post your responses on Wednesday.

May 14th, 1971

2006-05-14T18:00:00.000-05:00

Her

They all thought she was crazy, but she'd been through this once already. The first time, she did it their way. This time it was on her own terms. It was what she wanted, and no one was going to stop her.

She made it herself. White and sleeveless on top, a pale yellow mini below. The yellow satin sash around her waist was held together with a corsage of daisies, her favorite flower.

She looked beautiful, and she was happy.

Him

He always loved a good suit. Tall men look good in them, and he was no exception. The last time he wore a tux, but this was so much better. He felt more like himself.

It was brown, with yellow shirt to match her dress. The pants even had a bit of a bell at the bottom. His narrow tie matched his jacket. His boutonniere was made of daisies, her favorite flower.

He looked handsome, and he was happy.

They

He watched her walk down the aisle of the small church, her long, dancer legs carrying her confidently towards him. She smiled a smile that he knew was only for him.

They said their vows, surround by a small gathering of loved ones. It was perfect, and exactly as it should be. When the pastor pronounced them man and wife, he smiled and bent down to kiss her. They looked wonderful, and they were happy.

* * *

They were married exactly 35 years ago today. They built a life together, and created a loving home. They have shown everyone that knows them what real and lasting love can be, and they set the perfect example of what a marriage is supposed to be.

Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad. I love you.

Maybe, Maybe Not

2006-05-12T00:00:00.000-05:00

I got this in my fortune cookie today. Apparently, I'm about to get what I want because I'm charming and have a great personality. So, if what I've been lead to believe is true, I won't be posting for a while. I'll be:

Sitting on a white, sandy beach at an expensive resort that I now own because I won the lottery, with a pina colada in one hand, a Marlboro menthol in the other, and the boyfriend is sitting next to me, admiring me in my string bikini because my ass is perfect and my cellulite has disappeared, all while eating a pepperoni pizza and a gallon of mint chocolate chip ice cream because I never gain any weight.

But if this doesn't happen, and I find out this fortune is really bullshit, I'll be working at the bar all weekend, making no money because the other bartender is out of town, it's supposed to be freezing and rainy AND the Cubs suck ass. And then, of course, I'll be posting on Monday.

Either way, have a happy weekend everyone.

Love, Trixie

Blame It On Mother Nature HNT

2006-05-11T00:00:00.000-05:00

Yeah, I know you were expecting shots of me in my underwear, but that's just not going to happen this week. If you read my last post, you know why that is. Happy fat & bloated HNT, y'all.

p.s. I'm fiddling around with putting some music on the blog. Check out the mp3 player on the sidebar. First up...Ryan Adams, Desire.

My Ovaries, My Enemy

2006-05-10T00:00:00.000-05:00

Author's Note: If you're a man, I suggest skipping this one.

I've never been one of THOSE girls. You know the type I'm talking about. The girls with the miserable PMS who bitch and moan are basically rendered incapacitated for an entire week each month because they got their period. I've been, well, at least up until recently, blessed with relatively easy visits from Auntie Flo.

As with everything else, though, getting older changes things a bit. Gone are the good old days. I've spent the better part of last night and today doubled-over with painful cramps, I feel fat and bloated, and I've nearly bitten the head off of every human being who has come within five feet of me. I even chastised the BF last night during an IM conversation for - are you ready for this - responding to something I'd written with a smiley-face emoticon.

I can't handle this much longer. Every month is worse than the one before. I swear to God, if it wasn't for the fact that I want children some day, I'd run to the nearest OB/GYN and have them rip out my ovaries today. Sure, I'd probably grow a mustache and become a baritone, but goddamnit, it would be worth it. You'd still love me with chest hair, wouldn't you honey?

Why can't modern scientists come up with something better than Premsyn PMS or Pamprin to combat this nasty bitch? They've got medications to combat everything from male pattern baldness to irritable bowel syndrome. Why not the menstrual cycle?

I blame it on female scientists. They know that if they create a drug that controls the ugly mood swings, the cramps and the bloating, women everywhere will never again be able to use the "I've got my period" defense. Girls will be expected to jump in the pool in gym class, women will have to be more productive at work, and never again will it be used as an excuse for getting out of having sex. The world would be in chaos!

Well, I call bullshit on that, my friends. I, for one, would gladly give up the right to use the "I've got my period" excuse if it meant I could get in to my skinny jeans every day of the month. Who's with me on this one, ladies? I'll be laying here on the couch in my fat pants, with a heating pad on my belly, awaiting your response.