Tag Archives: douche canoe

I Am A Total Douche Canoe.

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In the last 48 hours, I’ve gotten five messages from readers who fall into two categories:

A) Girlfriend: Where the fuck are you? Are you shacked up with Northman and having too much freaky sex to write? If so, yay for you, but you’re a douche canoe for not telling us ALL about it.

B) Mom: Where on God’s green earth are you? Are you ok? Is Northman ok? Are y’all having a spat? Did something happen with your little ones? Did your computer get the virus? You know I know how the computers do that with the Google and whatnot especially with all those dirty pictures you post. Now, whatever it is, you don’t have to write about it, but let us know you’re not lying dead in a ditch somewhere without clean panties or a sweater on for heaven’s sake.

So, first, thanks, y’all. Thanks for worrying about me even if it makes me feel like a total douche canoe for worrying you. And thanks for writing in, which was completely the kick my sorry ass needed to get in gear and explain myself. Here’s the Siri.

(I don’t think we can call it “Here’s the 411,” anymore. Now you go, “Hey, Siri, what the number for the sex store on 4th Ave?” and she goes, “You slut. It’s in your contacts list.” So, “Here’s the Siri,” is way more 21st century than, “Here’s the 411,” and you know I’m aaaall about being up with the times, yo.)

Alright. So, when last we met, I wrote y’all some erotic fiction. Ok, that’s crap. I wrote y’all some smutty porn fabulousness and it was damn awesome and led to some seriously naughty conversations with Northman, so even if you hated it, I fucking loved it, and it’s my blog, so yay for me. After that, I was just waiting for some inspiration because you know, I don’t just write about nothing. I mean, I write about my seriously crazy life and all the weird crap that happens in it. Usually, so much weird crap happens that I have plenty to choose from and I share about a fifth of it with you. But for some reason, early last month, nothing happened. I mean NOTHING.

Nothing funny happened, so I didn’t have any “Donkey Vagina” stories to share. And Northman and I were out of sync for around a week, so there was nothing on that front. Which sucked. Even the douche canoe next door with his fucking motorcycle was oddly quiet. And y’all don’t read my blog for deep introspection, so yeah, I had pretty much nothing to tell you.

After about a week, I sat down and tried to make myself think of something to write for y’all, and I had nothing. Nada. Zero. I started several new drafts and just, yeah, fucking nothing. Writer’s Block. 

So I decided to give it a rest. Here’s where I fucked up. I should have sent out a notice: Hey, web dwellers. I’m not dead. I’m just taking a little sabbatical. Only I’m not getting paid for it like professors do, but then again I don’t get paid for writing my blog, so I guess it only makes sense that I don’t get paid to not write my blog either.

I fully admit to being Cathy: The Asshat Captain of the USS Douche Canoe for the last month.

But I didn’t send out a notice, and so I’m a douche canoe. And I’m sorry. Let’s hug it out, bitches. 

((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((Yeah, I’m sending you a cheesy cyber hug. No copping a feel. Actually, go ahead. I’ll take what I can get these days.))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Alright. We good? Sweet. So here’s the rundown on your favorite characters who are actual people in my life: 

  1. Northman (obviously): Northman is in my good graces like you would not fucking believe. If my good graces were chocolate, he’d be covered in it like some kind of human Twix bar or something. This analogy is lame, but it also works because you know, licking…biting….yum. Fuck, I’m out of blogging practice.
  2. Jerry (when did we last talk about him?): He’s around. He’s like … well, fuck, y’all. He’s just not that important to me. Don’t know why I made him #2 on the list except that sometimes I think he’s full of #2, which is why he’s not that fucking important.
  3. Penny: Penny. Penny. Penny. What can I say about Penny? (Yes, I did that on purpose, BBT fans.) Penny’s life is so hilarious that I WISH she would write a blog, only she’s a terrible writer, so it would have to be more like a podcast of our conversations so y’all could get some remote clue as to how flippin’ hilarious her life gets. But in the immediate: She’s fine.
  4. My minions (who are always number one on any list except this one because I don’t write about them much): Fucking awesome. 

So, ok, web dwellers. That’s the scoop. I’m off to worship Mr. Coffee a bit. Also, fucking, hello?!!? True Blood comes back on the air in JUNE and there’s a new Sookie “Bad Decisions” Stackhouse book out this week. When I have time to read it, I will tell you what kind of idiotic things she does this time. Also, my favorite blogger, The Bloggess, released a book, web dwellers. And if you don’t read it, I won’t be your friend anymore.

 

Douche Canoes: Some paddling necessary

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In honor of the two-month anniversary of Confessions of A Sexy Mom and the phenomenally overwhelming response y’all have shown me via your THREE THOUSAND PLUS site hits in that time, I offer to you a little vocab lesson, Sexy Mom Style.

A Douche Canoe is such an ass-hat as to be eligible for President of the “Summer’s Eve Product Impersonator Club.”

Douche Canoe: Damn near always a man, this term describes someone who far exceeds the range of and capacity for arrogant obnoxiousness common to the far more typical douche bag

  • Known for frequenting overpriced bars with emo bouncers and holding up single fingers to any approaching women so as to Tweet their disinterested followers from their Crackberries®, these exceptionally notable ass-hats are ideal specimens for those researching the very upper limits of douche-baggery in humans. 
  • One who is such a gargantuan douche bag as to necessitate a vehicle no smaller and less unwieldy than a canoe to tote around the figurative amount of douche-baggery he carries in his literally tiny brain.
  • Using the term in a sentence: That douche canoe just cut me off while simultaneously texting and smoking, causing me to slam on my brakes and get stuck behind his smog-spewing ass-hat-mobile. And when the light turned green, he was so busy texting that he took too long to notice, causing me to have to sit through another light cycle. THAT is a douche canoe.
  • Alternate terms include fuckwads, ass-hats, ass-clowns, and anyone who refers to himself as an “agent.” For further definition of “ass-hat” or “ass-clown,” refer back to our friend the pre-first-date barking man.
    • Y’all know I love Jenny Lawson, AKA: The Bloggess, and I first saw this term on her blog, so props to Jenny for improving my vocabulary and giving me a word to describe men who think all women should look like Victoria’s Secret models even though only five men on the planet look like Armani underwear models.

      Even David Beckham doesn’t actually look like this. So why do these douche canoes think women should always be in matching bras and g-string panties (Note: Not always smart for a given outfit) with DDs and less than 4% body fat?

Skype Sex: This activity involves two (or more, I suppose, but that’s just not how I roll, web dwellers) consenting adults engaging in mutual self-gratification via an Internet video connection. During said event, each participant actively facilitates the achievement of orgasm(s) by his or her partner by speaking, moving, behaving, or otherwise performing in a manner the partner finds sexually desirable.

  • Point of interest: All douche canoes are dickheads, but not all dickheads are douche canoes. You know, like, all politicians are liars, but not all liars are politicians.

    Using the term in a sentence: Waving your dick around, jacking off in front of a webcam, and then getting dressed does not constitute Skype Sex, but it does mean you are a dickhead who is also a gigantic douche canoe.

  • Alternate terms include cybersex, video sexting, and Date Night With Northman (But he’s not a douche canoe. Ever.).
  • See Skype Sex 101.

Friends With Benefits: Sometimes abbreviated as FWB, this relationship is defined by the involvement of a sexual component into an otherwise platonic friendship.

  • Without the commitments or obligations inherent in a monogamous relationship, nor the expectation on either friend’s part that such a romantic involvement will result from said encounter(s), two (or, again, more, but not in my book) consenting adults engage in sexual activities up to and including coitus (why are you still not watching The Big Bang Theory?) while maintaining and often enhancing their friendship but having no further expectations or obligations from/to one another.  
  • Paramount in this arrangement is that the two people involved actually be friends before entering such an arrangement. If they are not friends, it’s just casual sex. That is, you can’t be Friends With Benefits if there are no friends involved upon whom to bestow those benefits.
  • Using the term in a sentence: I have an acquaintance who wants to be Friends With Benefits, but I simply cannot have Skype Sex with him because he is a raging douche canoe.

Can you tell I’ve kind of had it with preening, self-important douche canoes this week? Write in and tell me about the ass-hats in your life. And let me know what you want to hear about in the coming month. Thanks for reading, web dwellers.

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