Friday, January 18, 2013

Channing Tatum Doesn't Melt My Butter (And Other Reasons I May Lose My Girl Card)




Sometimes I feel like it's only a matter of time before I lose my girl card.  I mean, I don't seem to get my panties in a bunch for the same things most other women do.  For example:


1.  Channing Tatum doesn't melt my butter.
Yes, you read that right.  No, I am not a lesbian.  I am, however, probably one of the very last women on the planet to watch "Magic Mike". (I still haven't seen 'The Vow".  He is in that one too, right?)

Ya'all can stop throwing stuff at me now.

Geez.  Bitches be trippin.

 



I kept meaning to watch Magic Mike.  Really.  I knew I definitely wanted to see all that man flesh up on the big screen...but it just never made it on my "must do" list.   I finally rented it a few nights ago just to see what all the fuss was about.  Now, I am NOT going to lie, I totally didn't mind watching (and, maybe, re-watching, you know, for research purposes) those nekkid dance scenes.  I AM a woman after all, and sometimes we love to watch half naked men flex their...uh...stuff.  I just don't get why Channing Tatum is such a big deal.  To me, he looks like a 15 year old boy with a steroid habit.   And his huge ears bother me.  Yes, ladies, I was looking at his ears.  And, no, I am not coming out as a lesbian.  I swear.
Not that there's anything wrong with that.






2.  Fifty Shades of Grey made me yawn.

I tried to read Fifty Shades of Grey.  I made it through the entire first book. It was a pain-staking process that started to feel like homework after awhile.  I could not finish the trilogy and I was a little concerned about those friends who told me how much they LOVED the books and told me I just HAD to read them.  And, no, it wasn't the subject matter that bothered me.  (In case you live under a rock, these books talk about BDSM and power exchange relationships.  Oooooh scandalous!)  To be honest, my partner and I do things on the weekends that would make Christian Grey blush.  No, that wasn't the problem at all. 






 



It was the juvenile writing and the unbelievable story line:
Rich bazillionaire falls for bumbling college virgin who orgasms, like, the first time he looks at her. He gets jealous whenever she talks to anyone her own age, and buys her a car five minutes after meeting her. Oh, and then spanks her ass and stuff. She questions her desires and cries for, like, a year, and the book ends with us thinking she is going to basically jump off a bridge.

In order to try to keep it interesting so I could finish the book, I invented a drinking game. I decided that every time his "penetrating gaze" made her "flush bright red" I would take a shot. I was hammered by Chapter 3.

That part was fun.






3. I am not crafty - at all.

I look at all these things my girlfriends are "pinning" on Pinterest and I know about half of my friends actually have the desire to do this stuff. I wonder "Who has time for all this shit?" I have three kids, a full time job and a man in my life. I rarely have time to sleep for 8 hours a night.


I don't decoupage. (If you had to Google that, we will get along just fine). I used to scrapbook, but I think I got one kid's album done up to the age of 5 and the other two are S.O.L. (They have online scrapbooking now. Boom.) Most of my children's photos are still in digital format. I don't sew. I don't typically bake for fun (unless it's Christmas cookies) and I don't knit or paint flower pots or any of that other stuff. I simply have no desire to sit down and make little kitschy things to put on shelves in my house. I seem to be missing that gene.



I can cook. I can sew on a button if I need to. But sewing for recreation sounds like torture to me. I don't know if I could even sit still for long enough to do it. I seem to have adult-onset A.D.O.S. (Attention Deficit "Ooh! Shiny!").

Shut up, it's a real thing.



4. I prefer action movies over chick flicks.


I love movies that have big, dirty, sweaty, muscle-bound guys chasing after each other with guns and blowing shit up. Want to bring me to tears in the movie theater? Bring the original "Die Hard" back to the big screen. Not that "Die Harder With a Vengeance" crap with the over-the-top computer generated action. The original. The one with all the action and sweat and blood in it.




Or, how about Indiana Jones? No, not 70 year old Harrison Ford with his stupid earring in one ear hobbling around the desert looking for his dentures while Calista Flockhart changes his diaper. The original "Raiders of the Lost Ark". On big screen. Scruffy archaeologist with fedora and whip saves damsel in distress. Serious. Lady. Wood.


Fuck "Magic Mike"


5. Classic cars make my motor run.

I have always had an affinity for big, gas guzzling, motor revving, room-in-the-backseat, shiny classic cars. 7 miles to the gallon? Talk slower baby. Give me a 1967 Chevelle SS over a 2012 Camaro anyday. I don't want to hear a smooth motor..no..I want the VROOM! VROOM! old school environmentally irresponsible and totally bad ass panty dropping roaring engine from Hell.






I know, I'm weird.

Can we still be friends?