I formally apologize to my followers for not writing anything outside of the chapters to The Court Chronicles that Ike and I have pin-balled back and forth. The truth, I have had writers block, but I had an unexpected surge of inspiration today and here you go. Last time I wrote about how to become friends with an ex, today I give advice to my male readers….
Not too long ago I met a nice young man named IB (initials: to protect the innocent, however no one really knows this guy outside of his other nickname). He was a nice young man. He was attentive, had a quirky sense of humor and planned fun and different dates. IB stood slightly taller than I at about 5’9”, had thick hair and held a close resemblance to Mark Wahlberg. I guarantee that my female followers just gave a collective sigh. So what was wrong? What made me not call him back and how did he become the subject of ridicule in my circle of friends? Let me back up to paint an accurate picture to my readership.
We had just finished getting his car washed. I know that an errand on a date is a huge no-no, but it was after the fires and I insisted we go get it washed so the ashes wouldn’t ruin his paint. On the ride back to his place where we were going to bar-b-que, he kept giving me lovey-dovey eyes and I knew the first kiss was coming soon. We stepped out of his car, and as I came around to the front he stopped me and brought me close to him. He looked into my eyes and whispered, “I want to kiss you. Is that ok?” I laughed. I nodded. He held my face in his hands and brought me close for what I anticipated would be a tender and memorable kiss. I was wrong. At least half wrong; it was memorable. Lord knows I tried to forget.
IB, God bless his heart, was an awful kisser. Every move he made was wrong and invasive. He started by securing his lips around mine as though he was one of those fish that cleaned the undersides of humpback whales. Next, he forced his tongue down into my mouth and wiggled that sloppy piece of flesh haphazardly; a move I would assume was to show me what he would do to me “downtown”…he never got that far. And then in a fit of aggression, he became overcome with passion, grabbed the back of my head and brought me even closer, causing our teeth to clink together. I pulled away; afraid he had chipped an incisor which he saw this as an invitation to kiss my neck. More sloppy saliva and now was he biting me? Ouch. After that debacle, I never called him again.
“Why don’t you teach him how to kiss?” a friend offered.
“At 32, if he hasn’t got kissing down by now, he is a lost cause,” I countered. I believed with strong conviction that there was no saving him. The damage done. My attraction for him—gone. A new nickname born. From that day on my friends and I called him The Bad Kisser.
Gentleman, I know it will be easy to laugh this article off and say, “Wow, that’s cold Inez, “ But please read on. You might learn something.
Steps to a great kiss:
1. Don’t ever ask if you can kiss someone. It is lame and cowardly. If you have us in kissing-range-closeness chances are we want you to kiss us.
2. Start with a peck. This important for the first kiss. It shows that you are tender and considerate. Not a saliva wielding monster.
3. Part the lips slightly and gently nibble her bottom lip. Make sure to part the lips slightly, as to not get her chin as well. Try to stay on our lips. I know every woman cringes when we get spit in our nostrils.
4. Tongue. OK tongue is tricky. Women don’t mind tongue done in moderation. Introduce it slowly and gently. Please do not park your tongue in our mouths. Develop a rhythm, in and out, round and round, and every once in a while repeat step three. Really is all about the attention to the lips.
Note: DO NOT kiss like they do in porn. Not good. I could go on about what they get wrong in porn but for right now I advise to never make a pointy tongue and wiggle it in front of your girl’s tongue. Not sexy.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Friday, April 17, 2009
The Court Chronicles (A Blog Novella) - Part II, Chapter 6
Click here to read Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
Sergeant Howell drums his pen on the stainless steel table in front of him. He looks over the file in front of him and looks up and examines Veronica’s face. He tries to read her sincerity as she says, “Officer Howell…”
“It’s Sergeant Ms. Nunez.”
“Right, sorry. Sergeant Howell, Garret had nothing to do with any of this and I’ll take the full brunt of the consequences. Please let him go.”
“Ms. Nunez, why don’t you let me focus on the police work? I’ll decide who stays, who goes, and when any of that is going to happen.”
Sergeant Howell gets a text message on his phone and excuses himself from the interrogation room. He tells Veronica that he’ll be right back and that she should do herself a favor and be honest with him when he gets back. She nods solemnly. The door slams aggressively as she tries to collect her thoughts.
How could this night have gone so bad? I hope Garret is ok. He didn’t have to stay with me as we waited for the cops. A lesser man would have left me curb side. He has won me over and now I doubt he’ll want anything to do with me after this night.
Veronica looks down at her hands and reflects on how blue her hands look under the glow of the fluorescent lights. A minor observation to distract her from the reality of the situation. She is now going to have to decide how much of the truth she is actually going to tell Sergeant Howell. She knows how this works. Veronica is in real danger once the police are involved.
The door clicks open and Howell walks in and sits down with purpose. He looks at her intensely for an awkward amount of time. He looks back down at the file and opens it slowly, sighing, and making a wide range of moaning sounds as he goes over the arriving officer’s initial report. God, spare me the intimidation dramatics please, thinks Veronica.
“Alrighty, Ms. Nunez lets get to the bottom of this.” Howell clicks his pen several times before he continues, “Can you please explain to me why a young lady, such as yourself, with no priors, would have five kilos of marijuana and 100 pills of ecstasy in the trunk of your car?”
“Well offic…um sir…Sergeant, can I be frank?”
“I would prefer it.”
“I want to be honest with you. I really do. I want nothing more then to explain everything away to you, but I am afraid. These guys know where my family lives and I just can’t put them in danger.”
“Ms. Nunez, prison is not a good place for a pretty girl like you. Help us out and we’ll help you out. Plain and simple.”
Veronica begins biting on her lip and twirling her hair. “OK. I’ll tell you everything I know, if you promise me that I can call my mom. I’ll also need permission to go to Arizona to bring her back over here.”
“We’ll see what we can do.”
“You are going to have to do better then that Sergeant. My mother needs to be safe. I care less if I am in prison if my mother is not safe.”
Veronica locks eyes with Howell. He can tell by the forcefulness of her gaze that she will not back down from this request. He needs this break. He hasn’t solved a case in a month and his performance review is coming up. He smoothes down the corners of his well groomed mustache. “OK. I will personally drive you to Arizona. You have my word,” caves Howell.
Pleased with his word, she begins, “What do you want to know?”
“Start from the beginning,” Howell clicks his pen.
“I don’t know where the drugs came from, but I know who put them in my car. About 2 weeks ago I went back to Arizona to visit my family and my mother confessed to me that my cousin Arturo had been bullying her to use her car. My mother takes care of my grandmother and needs to take her to dialysis regularly and had turned him down repeatedly. I called him up to set him straight and he agreed to leave my mother alone if I would let him use my car. I did for the sake of my mother. Now, it is no secret what Arturo is involved in. I knew what he was going to use my car for but I just wanted my mother to have some peace.”
“So you admit that you knew he was going to transport illegal drugs with your car?” Howell questions as he scribbles a note in her file.
“No. I knew what he might use my car for. He never mentioned specifically what he would do. He borrowed my car one afternoon for two hours. I got it back just as I had given it to him, or so i thought. I didn’t think anything of it. In fact, I had forgotten all about it until tonight.”
“Says here in the report, Mr. Galles and you were on a date. Night golfing?” He smiles mockingly.
“Garret’s last name is Galles? Yes, it was our first date. I opened my trunk to get my golf clubs when I discovered what Arturo used my car for. It seems like my cousin decided to cram as much drugs as he could in the side compartments of my trunk. The small door buckled under the pressure and the packages tumbled into my trunk.”
“How do you know your cousin had anything to do with this? How can I trust what you say is true?”
“Sergeant, I called the police as soon as I opened my trunk. Why would I do that if they were my drugs? Besides, my cousin called me and left a message saying he wanted to come visit me next weekend. I think my cousin set me up as a mule, sir.”
“Can Mr. Galles cooperate that story?”
Veronica rolls her eyes at the absurdity of the question. “No sir, the man has only known me for a few hours. We nave been sitting here at the station in separate interrogation rooms for twice as long as our actually date was.”
“OK. I’ll be right back.” Howell closes his file and walks out.
Sergeant Howell drums his pen on the stainless steel table in front of him. He looks over the file in front of him and looks up and examines Veronica’s face. He tries to read her sincerity as she says, “Officer Howell…”
“It’s Sergeant Ms. Nunez.”
“Right, sorry. Sergeant Howell, Garret had nothing to do with any of this and I’ll take the full brunt of the consequences. Please let him go.”
“Ms. Nunez, why don’t you let me focus on the police work? I’ll decide who stays, who goes, and when any of that is going to happen.”
Sergeant Howell gets a text message on his phone and excuses himself from the interrogation room. He tells Veronica that he’ll be right back and that she should do herself a favor and be honest with him when he gets back. She nods solemnly. The door slams aggressively as she tries to collect her thoughts.
How could this night have gone so bad? I hope Garret is ok. He didn’t have to stay with me as we waited for the cops. A lesser man would have left me curb side. He has won me over and now I doubt he’ll want anything to do with me after this night.
Veronica looks down at her hands and reflects on how blue her hands look under the glow of the fluorescent lights. A minor observation to distract her from the reality of the situation. She is now going to have to decide how much of the truth she is actually going to tell Sergeant Howell. She knows how this works. Veronica is in real danger once the police are involved.
The door clicks open and Howell walks in and sits down with purpose. He looks at her intensely for an awkward amount of time. He looks back down at the file and opens it slowly, sighing, and making a wide range of moaning sounds as he goes over the arriving officer’s initial report. God, spare me the intimidation dramatics please, thinks Veronica.
“Alrighty, Ms. Nunez lets get to the bottom of this.” Howell clicks his pen several times before he continues, “Can you please explain to me why a young lady, such as yourself, with no priors, would have five kilos of marijuana and 100 pills of ecstasy in the trunk of your car?”
“Well offic…um sir…Sergeant, can I be frank?”
“I would prefer it.”
“I want to be honest with you. I really do. I want nothing more then to explain everything away to you, but I am afraid. These guys know where my family lives and I just can’t put them in danger.”
“Ms. Nunez, prison is not a good place for a pretty girl like you. Help us out and we’ll help you out. Plain and simple.”
Veronica begins biting on her lip and twirling her hair. “OK. I’ll tell you everything I know, if you promise me that I can call my mom. I’ll also need permission to go to Arizona to bring her back over here.”
“We’ll see what we can do.”
“You are going to have to do better then that Sergeant. My mother needs to be safe. I care less if I am in prison if my mother is not safe.”
Veronica locks eyes with Howell. He can tell by the forcefulness of her gaze that she will not back down from this request. He needs this break. He hasn’t solved a case in a month and his performance review is coming up. He smoothes down the corners of his well groomed mustache. “OK. I will personally drive you to Arizona. You have my word,” caves Howell.
Pleased with his word, she begins, “What do you want to know?”
“Start from the beginning,” Howell clicks his pen.
“I don’t know where the drugs came from, but I know who put them in my car. About 2 weeks ago I went back to Arizona to visit my family and my mother confessed to me that my cousin Arturo had been bullying her to use her car. My mother takes care of my grandmother and needs to take her to dialysis regularly and had turned him down repeatedly. I called him up to set him straight and he agreed to leave my mother alone if I would let him use my car. I did for the sake of my mother. Now, it is no secret what Arturo is involved in. I knew what he was going to use my car for but I just wanted my mother to have some peace.”
“So you admit that you knew he was going to transport illegal drugs with your car?” Howell questions as he scribbles a note in her file.
“No. I knew what he might use my car for. He never mentioned specifically what he would do. He borrowed my car one afternoon for two hours. I got it back just as I had given it to him, or so i thought. I didn’t think anything of it. In fact, I had forgotten all about it until tonight.”
“Says here in the report, Mr. Galles and you were on a date. Night golfing?” He smiles mockingly.
“Garret’s last name is Galles? Yes, it was our first date. I opened my trunk to get my golf clubs when I discovered what Arturo used my car for. It seems like my cousin decided to cram as much drugs as he could in the side compartments of my trunk. The small door buckled under the pressure and the packages tumbled into my trunk.”
“How do you know your cousin had anything to do with this? How can I trust what you say is true?”
“Sergeant, I called the police as soon as I opened my trunk. Why would I do that if they were my drugs? Besides, my cousin called me and left a message saying he wanted to come visit me next weekend. I think my cousin set me up as a mule, sir.”
“Can Mr. Galles cooperate that story?”
Veronica rolls her eyes at the absurdity of the question. “No sir, the man has only known me for a few hours. We nave been sitting here at the station in separate interrogation rooms for twice as long as our actually date was.”
“OK. I’ll be right back.” Howell closes his file and walks out.
Friday, April 3, 2009
The Court Chronicles (A Blog Novella) - Chapter 4
Hmm. I wonder if he likes seafood. I would love to split the tuna tartar with him. God, he is totally checking me out right now. Please look at your menu, Garret. You are making me blush. At least I know he is attracted to me. I think he might have been sporting a trouser tent earlier, but that could have been my imagination. He isn’t sixteen anymore, for Christ’s sake. Wait, do guys ever stop getting random erections? Mmm, that is definitely something I’ll google later. I think it is funny how “Google” is now a verb in my vernacular. If I write it, does it still need to be capitalized? Probably not, since I wouldn’t be using it as a proper noun. I’ll google that later, too. Oh my God my mind is wandering. Is this silence awkward now? Oh here comes the waitress.
“Hi, how are we doing tonight? Garrett?”
I look up from my menu. She knows him? Oh man there is some history between these two. Garrett’s brown eyes look like saucers and I think all the color has left his face. He was a golden Eric Estrada brown a minute ago, now he looks Don Johnson orange.
“Uh. Hey, how are you?” Garrett’s voice cracked. Either he is really nervous or he is going through a second puberty. That would explain the boner. “Ma… ma…”
“Marla. Don’t tell me you don’t remember me”
“No. No, or course not. How are you?”
“You already asked me that. Better now, for your information,” Marla says bitingly.
“Oh, good to hear.” Garrett looks at me to gauge how awkward this is. He continues, “Marla, I am sorry. Really I am, but right now isn’t a good time for me to get into this.”
Marla looks at me and rolls her eyes. “Whatever. Let me get you guys a different server. I want to stay professional so I am going walk away. You were always a lousy tipper anyhow.”
Garrett laughs nervously as though her last comment wasn’t a direct jab at his character. He is struggling to find something to say.
I’ll break the silence. “So how do you feel about splitting the tartar?”
“I feel I should explain…”
Oh God is he really going to open this ex-file on the first date?
“Marla and I dated a few years ago in college. She was a rebound. I was never really into her and I totally used her for the company and sex. I was fresh off a 4 year relationship with my high school sweetheart and at the time my heart was crushed.”
Wow. How do I make him stop?
“When I met Marla I was a player and a total puto. She was developing feelings, I wasn’t in the right mind set for a serious relationship and I was a dog to her. I realized I was being an idiot and I just stopped calling Marla without any explanation. I just didn’t know what to tell her. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Aside from the attitude you just witnessed, she was a pretty cool chick…”
“Garret?”
“Yeah?”
“Stop explaining please.”
“OK. Sorry.” Garret looks defeated. “This date is over isn’t it?”
“No!”
“Veronica, I think I might have ruined your first impression of me.”
“You’re embarrassed. What if I share something equally mortifying? Then can we move on with our evening?”
“It might help.” He is starting to relax and he just flashed me that cute smile of his. He has dimples. How adorable. I want to lick them. Wow on the first date, Veronica? Get a hold of yourself.
“How versed are you on feminine hygiene products?” I wince.
“I didn’t major in it but I have a basic knowledge.”
“OK.” Take a deep breath. God why am I going to tell him this story? “I am not sure if Jay told you but I am from Arizona. In Tempe there is a lake and every year they have an event called the River Rally. People make boats out of cardboard and they race them across the lake. Cardboard is a very unpredictable floating material so you can imagine the hilarity that ensues. It is tons of fun. Well, my best friend Karina got a team together in her office, and one of her co-workers had to drop out last minute. She knew I had a crush on this guy in her suite named Mike, so she asked me to fill in. I agreed but that morning I found out that Aunt Flo was in town. God, this is gross isn’t it? Why am I talking about this?”
“No, go on,” Garrett assures me. “I mean it isn’t my favorite topic before dinner, but I owe you since you were so accepting. Besides you can’t stop now. What’s that all about? You a quitter?”
“Smack talking, huh? Alright, I’ll keep going.” I take a sip of water before I continue, “Well not easily swayed from my goal of flirting with Mike, I decide to just use the appropriate feminine product and cease the day.”
“A tampon right?” interrupts Garrett as the waiter walks up.
“Uh.” He chuckles. “Hi folks. What can I get you guys to drink?”
“Are you ok with red wine, Veronica?”
“Sure.”
“We’ll have a bottle of the house merlot, please.”
“You got it. Right away.”
“Man, talk about coming into the conversation at the wrong time,” laughs Garrett.
“Sorry about that.”
“Why are you sorry? I can talk about TAMPONS!” exclaims Garrett as he looks around the room. “I am secure in my manhood.” Patrons look over at us in mild disgust. “Continue with your story, please.”
“OK but lower your voice. Geez. Where was I? Oh right, I knew I was going to need reinforcements so I brought an extra tampon in my purse. When I got there I realized I would not be able to have my purse with me all day so I grabbed one of the tampons, took it out of the applicator, and stored it in my sports bra. I rushed over to my team and off we went; out onto the water in our cardboard boat. Almost instantly we are capsized by one of our competitors and we find ourselves in the water. We get out on the shore giggling and Mike and I lock eyes, laughing about how we failed. He looks down at my chest and says, ‘Oh you got a piece of lake trash on you.’ Before I could look down, he grabs what is the string to my tampon and pulls it out of my bra. There he is, horrified, looking at my water saturated tampon dangling in his hand!”
“What did he do?”
“He freaks out and throws it back at me like menstruating is contagious. It hits me in the face. He apologizes, sort of, and walks away briskly in the other direction.”
“Ha ha ha. It hit you in the face? What did you do?”
“Picked it up. Threw it away and flirted with another cutie. A dude that can’t handle a tampon probably can’t handle much at all. I cut my losses and figured it was best that I found out what type of person he was early on. Would I have wished to have learned it in a less embarrassing manner? Of course, but life is funny that way.”
“It sure is. Hey, I know we ordered a bottle but what do you say we go somewhere else? I am seriously scared that Marla is going to spit in our food.”
“You have a very good point. She has been shooting daggers at us from the moment I started my tampon tale. If looks could kill. Let’s get out of here. What did you have in mind?”
“Hi, how are we doing tonight? Garrett?”
I look up from my menu. She knows him? Oh man there is some history between these two. Garrett’s brown eyes look like saucers and I think all the color has left his face. He was a golden Eric Estrada brown a minute ago, now he looks Don Johnson orange.
“Uh. Hey, how are you?” Garrett’s voice cracked. Either he is really nervous or he is going through a second puberty. That would explain the boner. “Ma… ma…”
“Marla. Don’t tell me you don’t remember me”
“No. No, or course not. How are you?”
“You already asked me that. Better now, for your information,” Marla says bitingly.
“Oh, good to hear.” Garrett looks at me to gauge how awkward this is. He continues, “Marla, I am sorry. Really I am, but right now isn’t a good time for me to get into this.”
Marla looks at me and rolls her eyes. “Whatever. Let me get you guys a different server. I want to stay professional so I am going walk away. You were always a lousy tipper anyhow.”
Garrett laughs nervously as though her last comment wasn’t a direct jab at his character. He is struggling to find something to say.
I’ll break the silence. “So how do you feel about splitting the tartar?”
“I feel I should explain…”
Oh God is he really going to open this ex-file on the first date?
“Marla and I dated a few years ago in college. She was a rebound. I was never really into her and I totally used her for the company and sex. I was fresh off a 4 year relationship with my high school sweetheart and at the time my heart was crushed.”
Wow. How do I make him stop?
“When I met Marla I was a player and a total puto. She was developing feelings, I wasn’t in the right mind set for a serious relationship and I was a dog to her. I realized I was being an idiot and I just stopped calling Marla without any explanation. I just didn’t know what to tell her. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Aside from the attitude you just witnessed, she was a pretty cool chick…”
“Garret?”
“Yeah?”
“Stop explaining please.”
“OK. Sorry.” Garret looks defeated. “This date is over isn’t it?”
“No!”
“Veronica, I think I might have ruined your first impression of me.”
“You’re embarrassed. What if I share something equally mortifying? Then can we move on with our evening?”
“It might help.” He is starting to relax and he just flashed me that cute smile of his. He has dimples. How adorable. I want to lick them. Wow on the first date, Veronica? Get a hold of yourself.
“How versed are you on feminine hygiene products?” I wince.
“I didn’t major in it but I have a basic knowledge.”
“OK.” Take a deep breath. God why am I going to tell him this story? “I am not sure if Jay told you but I am from Arizona. In Tempe there is a lake and every year they have an event called the River Rally. People make boats out of cardboard and they race them across the lake. Cardboard is a very unpredictable floating material so you can imagine the hilarity that ensues. It is tons of fun. Well, my best friend Karina got a team together in her office, and one of her co-workers had to drop out last minute. She knew I had a crush on this guy in her suite named Mike, so she asked me to fill in. I agreed but that morning I found out that Aunt Flo was in town. God, this is gross isn’t it? Why am I talking about this?”
“No, go on,” Garrett assures me. “I mean it isn’t my favorite topic before dinner, but I owe you since you were so accepting. Besides you can’t stop now. What’s that all about? You a quitter?”
“Smack talking, huh? Alright, I’ll keep going.” I take a sip of water before I continue, “Well not easily swayed from my goal of flirting with Mike, I decide to just use the appropriate feminine product and cease the day.”
“A tampon right?” interrupts Garrett as the waiter walks up.
“Uh.” He chuckles. “Hi folks. What can I get you guys to drink?”
“Are you ok with red wine, Veronica?”
“Sure.”
“We’ll have a bottle of the house merlot, please.”
“You got it. Right away.”
“Man, talk about coming into the conversation at the wrong time,” laughs Garrett.
“Sorry about that.”
“Why are you sorry? I can talk about TAMPONS!” exclaims Garrett as he looks around the room. “I am secure in my manhood.” Patrons look over at us in mild disgust. “Continue with your story, please.”
“OK but lower your voice. Geez. Where was I? Oh right, I knew I was going to need reinforcements so I brought an extra tampon in my purse. When I got there I realized I would not be able to have my purse with me all day so I grabbed one of the tampons, took it out of the applicator, and stored it in my sports bra. I rushed over to my team and off we went; out onto the water in our cardboard boat. Almost instantly we are capsized by one of our competitors and we find ourselves in the water. We get out on the shore giggling and Mike and I lock eyes, laughing about how we failed. He looks down at my chest and says, ‘Oh you got a piece of lake trash on you.’ Before I could look down, he grabs what is the string to my tampon and pulls it out of my bra. There he is, horrified, looking at my water saturated tampon dangling in his hand!”
“What did he do?”
“He freaks out and throws it back at me like menstruating is contagious. It hits me in the face. He apologizes, sort of, and walks away briskly in the other direction.”
“Ha ha ha. It hit you in the face? What did you do?”
“Picked it up. Threw it away and flirted with another cutie. A dude that can’t handle a tampon probably can’t handle much at all. I cut my losses and figured it was best that I found out what type of person he was early on. Would I have wished to have learned it in a less embarrassing manner? Of course, but life is funny that way.”
“It sure is. Hey, I know we ordered a bottle but what do you say we go somewhere else? I am seriously scared that Marla is going to spit in our food.”
“You have a very good point. She has been shooting daggers at us from the moment I started my tampon tale. If looks could kill. Let’s get out of here. What did you have in mind?”
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