Tag Archives: Victoria Secret

Women Are Disgusting

I will admit it without any hesitation.

Women are disguisting.

For all the whining and carrying on we do.  Seriously.

Put the windows up! My HAIR!

Don’t kiss me!  I just put on my lipstick!

Don’t sit on the furniture!

Take your shoes off!

Do I have anything on my teeth?

Is my hair out of place?

Did you see her?

Does my ass look fat?

WATCH IT!  I just got my nails done!














If you don’t believe me.  Walk into any women’s restroom.  Any day of the week.  Any time of the day.  Any where.


What the hell?

I have never seen anything like it.

One should hope the worse thing experienced in a women’s toliet is exiting with paper stuck to your shoe!  Not.  Even.  Close.

First, let me tell you, it’s not a restroom. It’s a room filled with filth, disease, mayhem, absence of any barriers and worse of all ….a lack of common courtesy.  The men’s room is aces above what females exhibit behind public doors here.  Honestly, cleaning crews probably wear hazmat gear at the end of the day.

How do I know the men’s rooms are aces above what is available in ladies rooms?

I’ve been in them.

Come, walk with me.  Put down your cigar.  Put down your chardonnay.  Sorry, reds give me a migraine so I’m white wine only – bear with me here.  Or you can down your shot of Jameson – one of my favorites.  Of course don’t dare me cause I will take you up on the dare as some will attest to.  But, again, I digress.

Come with me as we walk into a public restroom designated for women.

Open the door, ignore the confetti of towels on the floor.  Walk past the sinks.  We’re headed to the stalls.

First stall – you push open the door and they didn’t flush.  Toliet paper clogs the pot, which multiple people have already used…not one flushed.  Or tried to flush. Great.  That’s just great.  NEXT.

Second stall – open the door and there’s piss all over the seat and not just a drop or two… someone turned on The Golden Shower.  Oh hey and there’s plenty of toliet paper all over the floor.  NEXT.

Third stall – there’s someone inside sitting silently…obviously waiting for you to leave so they can finish pooping.  Awkward, but what are you going to do.  HEY!  There’s a book called, “Everyone Poops”  I suggest you buy it and get over it.

Fourth stall –  there’s two empty toliet paper rolls on the floor.  Never a good sign.  Sure enough.  NO paper.

Fifth stall – clean.  You go in, shut the door.  The door doesn’t lock.  But you know, it’s not unusual.  You have a system and get to business.  Then as you’re getting the paper ready to clean up…. several things catch your attention.  It could be the unwrapped sanitary items in the bin – sitting in plain sight like some weird art project by Norman Bates….just nasty and then there’s the disguisting wipes off of someone’s finger of whatever on the stall wall.  Really? Come on ladies!  Just foul, foul, foul people.

As you go to flush the toliet, with your foot – you notice……pee on the floor.  PEE.  ON.  THE.  FLOOR.

Now trying not to touch anything, let us march out to the sinks.

We may or may not wash our hands but by god, I am going to fluff my hair and apply fresh lipstick….before heading out to greet you, my beloved.  Because, I am your Princess.  Your oh so perfect Queen.  Right?  Of course!

Yeah right and monkeys are going to fly out of my ass.

Now, let’s exit the restroom.  The woman has annihilated a stall – single handedly but yet won’t touch the handle to the door upon exiting.  FEAR – she might catch a cold from germs or the Ebola virus.  Let us throw out one last act of defiance – with a paper towel she’ll grab the handle of the door and without a thought, crumple it up and then aimlessly toss it in the general direction of the trash can.  Hence, a mountain of paper towels like Everest that grow with the passing of each hour.

Other things that are ridiculous in ladies rooms?

Being in a stall and little kids climbing under to look at you.

All the moaning and groaning of women pulling up and down their panty hose,  panties and various bodily torture devices designed to keep us looking smooth and svelte.

The sighing of sitting down on the toliet.

At work, women, for some reason and I’ve only ever seen this where I work….put toliet paper down the length of the door to cover the crack so nobody can see them.  Really?  What woman is peeking in between the cracks?  I’m not visiting the bathroom on a tour – I’m going to pee and then get back to work.  If you think your YaHoo is so precious or you’re spending so much time in there posing that someone it going to want to stop and look at you – W O W.

It’s a common, common, common occurance for woman not to flush.  Are they saving water?  The toliet seat cover didn’t flush.  The toliet paper they used to cover the seat didn’t get flushed.  The turd didn’t flush.  All the STUFF didn’t go down.  Why is it woman can’t do a courtesy check and double flush if necessary?  We’re double checking our fucking cleavage, hair and teeth but can’t take a second glance at the toliet to see if our pee and paper have been disposed of properly?

I just don’t get it!

It’s disgusting.

It’s disturbing!

Steven King could make a horror film out of it!

Those ads in Vogue this season are so hot – with the girl leaning against the nasty toliet in her Lucky Brand Jeans, looking all hot and bothered.  I so want those jeans.

OMG and did you see that one ad that Calvin Klein did with the couple making out in that ladies room with pee all over the floor and the trash?  I so want my man to do that….NOT!

And did you see that latest Victoria Secret ad with the wings?  Fantastic, she was seated on the sink with all the trash and toliet seat covers all over – that was so cool.

Nothing about any of this garbage reads sexy, hot, sultry or beautiful.

What woman thinks this is acceptable?  Someone has to clean up after you!

I’m not the first woman to let this cat out of the bag.  It turns my stomach every damn time I go into a public restroom.  It’s not a restroom it’s like the fourth level of Dante’s Inferno.  I’m not kidding.  I spend more time circling his damn Inferno….

All I can say is this…..


Listen up…..chances are your woman is pulling the wool over your eyes!

So please, do yourself a favor…. the next time we chastise you for farting in front of us….remember this blog!  Ask her if she does a courtesy flush.

Don’t Judge Me by My Underwear

Living in Juneau, Alaska has it ups and downs.

For me a downside would be shopping.  The opportunity and variety are lacking.  Juneau doesn’t have a big shopping mall.  No Macy’s, Nordstroms, not even a Target or Old Navy.  No Barnes & Noble, Pier One or REI.  No Victoria’s Secret, Walgreens or basically insert the store name here:__________  we don’t have that one either.

Whenever you get out (meaning, to the lower 48 states) you always, always, always shop.  Spending an extra day or two in Seattle to hit the malls is not uncommon for a Juneauite.  Since we’re a cooler climate, shopping when you’re on your winter vacation is best as sun dresses and tank tops aren’t going to do you much good here for the majority of the year.

If you don’t shop while you’re outside – then you’re stuck with two options:

1.  Mail order

2.  Local stores

With mail order, you try and try until you get the size right.  Sending back, exchanging sizes, receiving new packages.  What would take the normal person an hour or two on a Saturday down south, can take upwards of a month in mail order time.


But if you’re shopping for personal items such as …..lingerie, mail order can be the way to go.  It’s unlikely you’re going to find something in our two main shopping outlets:  Wal-Mart or Fred Meyers.

If you’re unfamiliar with Fred Meyers.  It’s literally one stop shopping.  Go in the left hand side of the building and buy all your “fresh” (for Alaska) produce items – continuing through the store you have your average grocery, stationary, clothing, housewares, hardware, gardening and firearms sections.

Normally, I don’t buy my “small clothes” at Fred Meyers. I like to have a selection of styles, colors, shapes, materials and sizes.  When you wander through a real store, the options are endless: bikini, thong, hipster, tanga, boy short, brief, g-string!  Full coverage, push-up, demi, padded, lightly padded, racer back, front closure!  And not just one or two colors….but shades of colors, patterns, lace, ribbons, animal prints, ruffles, mesh, feathers, cut outs, rhinestones!

I love options.

The other day I happened past the lingerie section at Fred Meyers.  It’s actually located next to the greeting card section.  Weird location.  It probably works well at Valentine’s Day.  Makes it easy for the men.

Anyhow,  I happened to be looking for a Father’s Day card for Eric…. “from the pets” and when I turned around, to continue my shopping, I noticed the cutest poka dot bra and panty set.

Okay, this is as random as a lightning strike in Juneau.

It’s cute.

It’s matching.

Got to have it.

Picked out my sizes and continued on my way.

When I got home, I realized what I thought meant “one size fits all” on the bottoms was really something else and I had selected the wrong size.  NEWMAN.

I tuck the receipt and item back into my bag and make a mental note to stop by the next time to exchange.

Three trips later, I am still waiting to exchange the item.


It’s the same guy at the exchange counter!  I don’t want some random guy to know what kind of panties I wear!  For me, THIS is embarrassing.  I know what you’re thinking…..

He’s not even going to notice.

Yeah, right.  How is he not going to notice when he has to find the sales tag to zap into the system?  Can you explain that to me?  Then he’ll see I wear X style (no, I’m not telling you what kind) and look at me like, “really?”   It’s not like there’s a whole heck of a lot of fabric there to begin with – of course he’s going to see what kind of panty it is.

Then he’ll know:  oh she’s one of THOSE women.  Of course, being one of THOSE women could be anything from granny panty wearing to g-string lover.  Why do I care?  First off, it’s creepy to have a stranger know what you’re wearing beneath your clothes.  Of course, who cares what any of us are wearing or not wearing under our clothes.  If I decide to share my intimates with you – then so be it.  Yes, I do wear that kind …. and that kind and that one too.  Men, only have a few options – women have many.  I prefer to keep them guessing.

Having to return this item to a strange man is as uncomfortable for me as it must be when you needa price check.  The cashier yells over the intercom:

 I need a price check on this jumbo-tron combo pack of Rhino Rubbers and Ecstasy Oil.

Of course, when I return the panties, the question will undoubtedly arise….

What’s the reason for return?

Insert my eye roll and….wrong size answer here.

Just let the floor open up and swallow me at that point.

Really, just like they have self-service check out – they should have self-service return counters.   What a time saver.

Why should it bother me so much?

I explained my predicament to Eric.  He said it’s obviously the guy’s job – to handle the returns.  Yeah, no shit.  But what the hell….does he LIVE there?  Three times – it’s the same guy.  When are they going to put a woman up there?  Seriously.

Eric said he’ll take it back for me.  Tell the guy it didn’t fit.  I not surprised he’d do this.  I’m actually contemplating going that route, not only because it’d be funny but I’d really like to get my money back.  Of course, with my luck, it won’t be the guy and I’ll be able to do the return on my own.  Eric will want to go ahead with the return just to mess with the employee – I can see it now.

No, I’m not worried about not having the proper size panty for the exchange.  On my second exchange attempt, when I realized this was going to be a process, I went ahead and bought the proper sized panty.   I would have been disappointed if I had to return the entire set because I didn’t purchase the correct size to begin with.  In the end, it’s all in the details.

Of course, should that have happened, the returns guy would have said:

You know we can do measurements for that.