50 Shades of Baby… Just in time for Father’s Day!


HaHaHappy Father's Day...

HaHaHappy Father’s Day…

Dear Daddy…

Once upon a time,
My Mommy and Daddy drank too much wine.
Lucky for me, Daddy forgot to wear protection.
And it just so happens… my conception!

Life as they knew it, was never the same.
A force to be reckoned with.
Little Orange Crush IS my name.

It’s all about me and what I want to do.
Feed me.
Play with me.
Now clean my poo.

I want to go outside.
Now I want to go in.
Now back outside.
I don’t care if we’ve just been.

Pick me up.
Put me down.
Now change me again.
I’m smelling kinda brown.

I’m hungry.
I’m tired.
No wait, I’m wired.

I’m happy.
I’m sad.
I’m laughing.
I’m mad.

I’m hot. I’m cold.
I’m up. I’m down.
Now change me again.
I’ve gifted you with some more brown.

What’s that? You have errands to do.
No problem. Let’s go.
In the car. Outta the car.
I promise you, we won’t get far.

I’ll scream. I’ll smile.
I’ll sit still, but only for a little while.
You’re on my time now.
And peace of mind, I do not allow.

Read me a story.
Put me to bed.
Just kidding…
I’m messing with your head.

Ok. Fine. I’m asleep in my crib.
Just remember, you have no power.
So don’t bother relaxing.
Cause I’ll be up in another hour.

My gift to you this Father’s Day,
Is quality time… just me and you.
So you can truly see what Mommy goes through.

By the end of the day, you might wish
That you’d worn protection.
Or drank enough wine,
To lose that erection.

But you wouldn’t have me.
Good times and bad,
We are better as three.

So for an entire day… just father and son.
We’ll laugh. We’ll cry.
We’ll poo. We’ll play.
Really making it Mother’s Day!

(You’re welcome, Mommy!)

Love,

Your Little Orange Crush

Mommy can swing too, Baby!


It was so nice out yesterday, my Little Orange Crush and I headed to the park. While I was pushing him on the swings, the little girl next to us was happily yelling at her mother: Swing, Mama! Swing! I pushed my Little Orange Crush… back n’ forth… back n’ forth, in a hypnotic rhyme. Swing, Mama, swing! Swing, Mama, swing! Hell yeh, I thought, Mama can swing too… With the warm breeze blowing through my hair, I fell into a hypnotic fantasy state o’ mind, with my eyes wide shut.

Tom Brady: I’ll let you in on a little secret, I am your biggest stalker fan. I can’t explain it, but I know deep down that I was put on this earth to be in with you. Letting destiny work it’s magic, we’ll take things nice and slow… savouring every moment. You can whisper sweet nothings in my ear and I will throw my head back in laughter. Your wife? Oh, I`ll gladly fend off Miss Gisele Bundchen… snap one of those twig legs of hers. Teach her a lesson in sharing… You don’t get to look like that and have him all to yourself, you greedy little…! And don’t worry Tom, I`ll give you a show that even Eli Manning can’t take away from you.

Tom Brady

Tom Brady

Brad Pitt: I’ll be honest, I’m a little worried to tap into this one. I’ve fantasized about you for so long that I don’t want to risk ruining what I know would be earth shattering, wickedly amazing sex love. So I`m content to just be a fly on the wall and watch you and Miz Jolie do your thing. From the peanut gallery off to the side, I’ll moan call out ever so softly “Oh Tristan!”. And please don’t worry about my feeling excluded… trust me, this Mama’s got her own toy with your name on it. Oh, who am I kidding? YES, YES, YES I’m totally up for a ménage a trois with you and Miz Jolie… and I promise not to record it (fingers crossed behind my back). The only thing I ask is that you name your next child after me, adopted or otherwise… which inevitably names me in your will. Wink! Wink!

Brad Pitt

Brad Pitt

Josh Duhamel: My, my… you are eye candy, are you not? I know you`re going to be a Daddy soon, so I’m willing to give you one last ride on the merry go round. That’s right, I’ll make it all about you… not for my satisfaction benefit at all! But here’s the thing, as hot as you are, I’ve always feared you might have raunchy, blue cheese smelling feet… but I’m willing to bet you mask the smell by marinating yourself in 90s Drakkar Noir.  Maybe Fergie would even be willing to serenade us with ‘Tonight’s gonna be a good night’? She seems cool like that…

Josh Duhamel

Josh Duhamel

David Beckham:Our romp will have to be like the movie The Artist:  silent and award-winningly good. We all know you are easy on the eyes, but when you open your mouth to speak, well, let’s just say you should stick to playing with your soccer balls. Oh, and please don’t smile either. No talking, no smiling… just you, your tattoos and your sexy Armani pout! Also, our silent romp will have to be a quick one… in n’ out. BaBam… Ova’. We need to be done just in time for Mrs. Posh Spice to eat her daily 3-grape limit, so she doesn’t catch us and stab me with her protruding collarbone.

David Beckham

David Beckham

Josh Groban: Oh, how sweet and innocent it’ll be. Like a couple of teens in puppy love. You can sing to me… and rub my feet… and hell, peel me a grape while you’re at it! I, in turn, I will wear my Victoria’s Secret angel wings. With your angelic voice and my wings, you’ll raise me up, alright.

Josh Groban

Josh Groban

Madonna: (Let’s not discriminate here. My swingin’ fantasies involve both sexes!) Although these days you scare me with your pulled-back pizza face and Schwarzenegger arms, I still think you could teach me a thing or two, or ten, between the sheets! All I ask is that you not wear your cone bra… you might burst one of my watermelon-sized utters only to find ourselves in a pool of breast juice. Or is that your thing? Also, maybe you would be willing to wear a bag over your head with the True Blue CD cover on it? Because, well, see my first sentence…

Madonna

Madonna

Steven Tyler: (OK. So I’m totally admitting to who my shame f@ck is.) While I’ve loved you my whole life, it’s been platonic… without quiveration. But then you came on to the American Idol scene and captured my tingling parts heart with your rock star wit and humour. It’ll probably equate to playing pool with a rope, but I’m willing if you are? All I ask is that you file down those painted horny finger nails of yours. Also, please don’t call me ‘Sweetie’ cause that’d just be awkward in a  father/daughter kinda way. And I know you’re clean and sober now, but maybe you can make an exception for the night, so we can really do it in a rock star-meets-groupie fashion? Plus, I think I’d have to be drunk to… I digress!

Steven Tyler

Steven Tyler

My fictional Christian Grey: As terribly written as 50 Shades of Grey was, I was willing to come back for more, if only to get a little more of Mr. S&M.  Take me to your ‘chamber’ and torture do with me what you wish.

I don’t know who this guy is, but it’s totally how I see my Christian Grey… You?

Totally how I envision Christian Grey

Totally how I envision Christian Grey

Whinos, this was a tough – really tough – blog post to write. Almost feeling the need for a ciggie right about now…

And so if you happen to catch me at the park with a naughty smirk on my face while pushing my Little Orange Crush on the swings, just know that Mama is swingin’ too… if only in her dreams!

Cheers,

Red Whino

P.S. Please tell me I’m not the only freak who is crushin’ on Steven Tyler after seeing him on American Idol? PLEASE…

P.P.S. Dear Big J… Don’t worry, you are my real-life fantasy man. (Surprised by my softness?!? Me too. But Big J says he reads my blog… but I think he just pretends! Just in case, I’m practising safe, marital blogging… 😉

Do I make you horny, Baby?


Spring has sprung… finally! The days are getting warmer. Little birdies are a chirpin’. The smell of charcoaled carcass on the BBQ fills the air. Corpse-coloured legs are starting to get their stride on. Tankinis and Daisy Dukes’ are being dusted off. Flip flops are a flippin’. Love is in the air.

Everyone is coming out of hibernation after a long Canadian winter. Everyone’s feeling a little frisky… busy getting busy! (Did you know that next to Christmas, April is the most popular month to conceive? Well, now you do!)

Tis’ the Season for Spring Fever! Ladies throw on their little tank-tops and push-up bras, guys flex there biceps, and everyone is all like “Oh, baby baby”… Et Voila! A seed is planted. Also, it rains a lot in April, and well, what else is there to do when it rains, right? But apparently no one is wearing their protective rain gear.

Ahhh good ole’ Spring! What’s not to love…

I’ll tell you what… Horniness! And I’m not talking about the Spring Fever kind of horniness. No… I’m talking about horny f-cking toe nails! Jeyzuz! If you’re going to impose opened-toed shoes on the world, make sure your feet don’t look like a dog’s breakfast!

Seriously, do people look at their feet and say to themselves ‘Hmmm… I think the crusty, cracked souls of my feet really bring out the thick, yellow, fungussy toe nails.’? (I just vomited a bit in my mouth.) Honestly, I was standing in line the other day, and the man’s feet in front of me looked like they were right out of Deliverance!

Every year it’s the same! Everyone strips down to their skivvies and flip flops. Fine…Great! But why can’t people objectively see what their feet really look like? And I’m not talking about genetically gross feet… like those who’s second toe is 3 times longer than their big toe! ‘Cause it’s not their fault. There is little to be done about genetically ugly feet.

I’m talking about maintenance… HYGIENE! This is within our control, and we owe it to each other to ensure our feet are presentable. Otherwise, put your feet away! And no, socks with sandals is NOT the solution!

Really, there’s no excuse for such atrocities. It’s such a simple fix… get a bloody pedicure!!!  I’ve done my due diligence and had my Spring pedi. Next I’m going to get Big J in there so they can attempt to rid him of his tribal, coal-walking, horny feet.

And who knows… once we’ve dealt with Big J’s horny feet, this Big Mama might just have a lil’ Spring Fever left in her after all…

Cheers,

Red Whino

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From Horny to Horny... $10... Me Love You Long Time...

From Horny to Horny…
$10… Me Love You Long Time…