Creeeepy

I'm the girl who drinks milk straight from the carton. The one who you will find dancing on the tables after a few cocktails, underwear optional.  I believe in the 5 second rule when food hits the deck.  I have even been known to swig beer from a complete stranger in a bar.

Some of you may find this type of behavior gross, unacceptable, or even crossing the line.  I have some advice for you:  lighten up, man!  It's true, I don't have many boundaries.  But I do have some.

You may find this hard to believe, but there are actually a few things in this life that I find repulsive.  Things that seriously creep me out.  In offending order of least to greatest creep factor, they are as follows:

5.  High School Senior guys who totally scam on the incoming Freshman girls.  I realize that we're only talking about a 3-4 year age difference here, but there is something just plain WRONG with this scenario.

Picture this:  14 year old Hope, a sweet, young, fun-loving, naive, and innocent cutie pie, who listens to Taylor Swift and goes to Church every Sunday.  In her free time, she knits scarves and blankets for the homeless.  She believes in world peace and pink nail polish.

Now, enter High School senior, Stud:   a sexually-driven, testosterone oozing, football playing, 18 year old dude, who drives a truck with a FLATBED.  We all know how this story ends.

Yeah, yeah, I know what you're thinking right about now...isn't there a 13 year age gap between Tom and myself?  Yes, in fact, as Tom graduated High School, I was exiting Kindergarten.  But this is MY blog, and I make the rules, and there always an exception.  Besides, it's not like Tom was stalking me in Kindergarten...he was too busy scamming on Freshman GIRLS!!!

4.  Clean children creep me out.  I'm talking like squeaky clean.  Like an entire Gymboree ensemble, complete with matching ice-cream cone hair clip, and ruffly socks.  WTF?  My motto is this:  if you are under the age of 12, you should be filthy.  Appear unkempt, with matted hair.  And be riding that fine line of looking as if you live in a trailer down by the river.  Childhood is about having FUN.  Who has time to take a shower?

3.  The offensive tramp stamp comes in next.  Call me a wuss for never taking part in more body modification than a pair of pierced ears, done at age 6.  But we, as a society, NEED to DRAW the LINE somewhere.

And you know what?  That multi-colored butterfly, fairy, Disney character, or Japanese symbol that you get inked into your skin at age 21, sure as shit, doesn't look that way at age 61!

I don't like to see the tramp stamp anywhere.  Period.  It screams out 'dirty girl'.

At the bar, peeking over a pair of thong panties, it's like watching a suffocating butterfly attempting to take flight.  At the beach, where the stamp in its entirety is displayed for the rest of the world to gaze upon.  I don't want to see TINK flying above your crack.

I cover my stretch marks so you don't have to endure those, please show me the same courtesy.


2.  Onto the next creepy thing:  too much 'work' done.  Plastic surgeons can fix ANYthing now.  Got a forehead that hangs down so low, you can't pass the vision test at the DMV while renewing your license?  BOTOX!  Got boobies that resemble wet tube socks that just came out of the washing machine?  AUGMENTATION!  Got a tummy that you must stuff into your grandma panties even though you've lost 100 pounds?  Not referring to anyone in particular here...TUCK IT!

Listen up people.  The whole point of having some body part fixed, lifted, or refreshed, should NOT be obvious to the average onlooker.  That's like saying I can walk into the doc's office looking like Jimeny Cricket, and strut out looking like Hugh Jackman.

MMMMM....Hugh Jackman.


1.  This brings me to the most offensive thing that creeps me out to my very core.  Being close to 40 years old, I welcome an occasional whistle from the passing car.  Don't deny it ladies, you know it makes ya feel sorta hot.

But what's up, when some dude thinks it's his duty to cat call me while I am very obviously PREGNANT?  Creeeepy.  I think it's appropriate to use the same verbiage I scream out to my 4 year old when she is about to run out into oncoming traffic:  NOT OKAY!!!!!!!

The slimy offender, with no moral sense,  is riding in some sort of truck, or raised vehicle, to obviously compensate for his small manhood.  Usually there are garden tools,  paint buckets, or a pit bull riding  shot-gun.

Hey man, I'm just trying to get my four mile waddle in, while keeping the garden hose intact... just be respectful.  I will repeat, this is NOT OKAY!

Except maybe, coming from a High School Senior...