Posted in Content, Humor, Ideas, Life, satire, tips

Public Service Announcement



Articles are meant to share information, tips, and opinions. This one is important to my heart. It is a list of the items I think should be made to be common sense knowledge at a minimum.

Teach it in school, teach it at home, blare it from loudspeakers in North Korea, and replace all media ads with it. I don’t anyone to be able to claim ignorance anymore. We are all put on this Earth for a reason and I know what mine is.

Best case scenario, this would become criminal activity. I have about 18 laws I will recommend we take off the books if we can have these in their stead.

Kylie’s Public Service Announcements

1st offense — Warning

2nd offense — Life in prison

Backpack

You, good sir, are not a backpack. So, kindly remove yourself from being one millimeter from me while we are standing in line at the gas station. Standing closer to me won’t get me done with my transaction any faster.

I do not like feeling your breath on my shoulder. “I beg your pardon, Sir. Please remove your breath from my neck and fuck off a few feet back.”

Even with the pandemic and the six feet away rule in place, it does not stop some people. These people are primarily at the gas station and Wal-Mart for some reason.

Holding The Door

Look, I am from Georgia and no one appreciates a gentleman more than us. But if I’m 500 yards away in the gas station parking lot, please do not hold the door for me. I do not want to do an awkward run/walk across the parking lot. Then you will not be standing there holding the door for five minutes straight.

We all appreciate what you’re trying to do. God sees you and we all see you. Just cut it out, though. I am not trying to run.

Hygiene

For god’s sake, please brush your teeth and bathe. Dousing yourself in cologne does not count as bathing.

Some of us can still smell so please have pity. If you are not sure if you smell or not, ask yourself when was the last good scrubbing you had. Or ask a friend or a family member to tell you.

Lady with cardigan with her head bent and hair astray.
Photo by DANNY G on Unsplash

Cardigan

Just because I like to wear a cardigan does not mean I am a librarian. I work on the south side of my town and apparently they equate every white person in a sweater as a librarian. Make no mistake, my street CRED is unparalleled.

Cardigans are amazing. If you are hot, you can take it off. If you are cold, you can put it on. You can buy one in every color to go with every shirt that you own. Stop the hate against cardigans.

And also, calling someone a librarian is not an insult. There’s no shame in being smart or appearing to be smart. I just don’t like the ignorance of cardigan shaming.

Lottery

For the love of all that is holy, please play your damn lottery during working hours. Not right before work starts or right after work ends. We have jobs to get to and don’t have time for you to pick eight number sevens, five number threes, and eight number twos.

And please tell me how the hell you manage to have the money to play the lottery every day when you don’t, apparently, go to work. I’m talking to you, weird creepy guy that hits on me every day at the gas station.

Get a job. The chance of you getting rich is much higher that way. The chance of you scoring at the gas station is much higher that way as well.

A scratch off lotto ticket on a table.
Photo by Emiliano Vittoriosi on Unsplash

Messenger

I have touched on this before. It’s still an issue. Facebook messenger was not invented for the sole purpose of harassing women on the internet. At least I don’t think it was.

Regardless, it is absolutely the most annoying thing that has ever happened. Even though I find some small pleasure in rebutting the advances of said weirdos, I wish they would just stop already.

I’m sure there are women that have used this for that as well, but I have never heard of one in my life or from someone I know. Just last week I had a man asking me to use him financially, no strings attached. Now if I was a younger, dumber version of myself, I might’ve fallen for that.

I’m 41. I know there’s no such thing as no strings attached. So, sorry Buddy, you’ll have to spend your paycheck on yourself or some other lady that believes you will leave her alone and just hand her the money.


These are just some of the most urgent items I must fix as your new leader. I mean, someone should do something about these issues.

So call upon Congress or write me in for the next election. The choice is yours.


Posted in Humor, Life, satire, tips

The Brazilian Bikini Wax That Went Horribly Wrong

Made with Canva – Most Assuredly NOT my legs

My lady bits eerily resembled a cantaloupe with a Hitler mustache. It was definitely not what I was envisioning when I made the appointment at a local spa to have a full Brazilian bikini wax done.

I was young and newly married. Our oldest daughter was but three or four years old. Our relationship had taken a backseat to my complete and total addiction to my daughter. I felt like an amazing mother, but not a sexual being. I laugh now, because I was no older than twenty-five back then. They aren’t lying when they say youth is wasted on the young. I don’t know who “they” are, but they’re right.

So, I was feeling unattractive with my flat stomach and beautiful skin. I can tell you that 40-year-old me really hates that bitch. Anyway, I made an appointment to go get a Brazilian wax. I thought maybe if I was as smooth as a glass ball, I would stimulate some activity in the bedroom or some desire anyway.

I made an appointment with a local salon that was locally renowned for its excellence which was also reflected in the prices.

I showed up for my appointment appropriately dressed, groomed, and medicated as per my phone instructions. Please note what I’m saying here. I did what I was supposed to do.

My waxing specialist exited. She looked to be no more than 16, but said she was 19. That did not inspire me with confidence in her experience level. But being raised with manners in the south, I overlooked the lack of experience and decided to have faith in her abilities. The first lesson I learned was to always listen to that little warning bell in my head.

In my birthday suit basically, I was maneuvered into the most awkward positions available to the imagination. All the while trying to maintain small talk while someone ripped the hair off of my privates. With wax that was not hot enough. I mentioned a few times that the wax did not seem to be warm, but she seemed to be unconcerned.

When I tell you that I was in agony, I am not exaggerating. This little sadistic heifer used cold wax on my taint. I would’ve stood most of it, but when she got to the little man in the boat, aka my clitoris, I jumped up off the table like my life was at stake.

Still clinging to my manners, I said, “You’ve done a great job, but I think I’m good now. We will just leave that there.”

I high tailed it out of there and went home to sit on a bag of ice. Three days later, my vagina still looked like a cantaloupe with a Hitler mustache. I never had this procedure done again. I was very proud of myself for not yelling out Kelly Clarkson’s name during the painful parts.

Moral of the story is, don’t do a Brazilian. Or if you do, just do it yourself. With a hedge trimmer. Or a flamethrower.


Posted in Humor, Life, satire

My Life: The Musical

My Life The Musical
Canva

The Greatest Showman came uncomfortably close to replacing the Grease soundtrack as my favorite musical soundtrack.

Grease had been the only musical I had ever loved for as far back as I could remember. After being forced to go watch The Greatest Showman, I ran out and bought the first CD I had bought in over five years. Then, I went back to watch the movie again. It happened that quickly and I was addicted.

One night after my fifth viewing of the movie, feeling good, I decided to jot down what would be the soundtrack to my life.

Dancers
Unsplash

I have written the playlist here for your amusement and/or sympathy. I hope at least one would be performed by Hugh Jackman because, let’s face it, who knew he could sing like that. But, I’m not one to be unrealistic, so I have added other singers as well.

What The F*&k Is This? Song performed by Hugh Jackman with confused and erratic dancing by Sunny Heights Retirement Village

That Escalated Quickly! Song performed by Will Ferrell with John O’Reilly on drums.

It’s Not Me, It’s You – performed by Justin Bieber dressed in his famous denim/ramen combo. The song covers years 16 through 23.

I Got This! I Don’t Need Child Support— sung to a beautiful gospel hymn, the head matriarch of the Duggar family leads the song in this one.

Somebody Hold Me Back! — As performed by Mike Tyson. Some of it is kind of hard to understand, but that runs along with the theme of my life perfectly.

Things Have To Get Better— performed by the rapper known as Ludacris

Things Have To Get Better (volumes two through ten)many rappers from Eminem to R. Kelly but not the prism version.

Why Does God Pick On Me? — Performed by Morgan Freeman


Now, that I have written down my soundtrack, I only have to write the songs, get the talent, and record the album. Piece of cake.

I hope that one day I will be able to put my life story on the silver screen for the public’s consumption and enjoyment. I know it will be a while because we don’t have the capabilities to use special effects to that level of difficulty. And I’m not sure that the public is ready for a tragedy of that nature at this point. Also, whoever played me might get depressed and would definitely get injured on a near constant basis.

Keep your eyes on me, though. One day you might know my name for me, aka this Kylie), instead of a makeup Queen related to someone that hasn’t done anything but make a sex tape.


Posted in Humor, Life, satire

The Mansplanation

Mansplaining
Canva

I once asked if water had calories in it. I am not proud of this moment. I was sixteen, but my obvious confusion by the laughter, cleared up immediately once Randy explained it to me. I knew that would happen. I only seem to be able to understand the logistics of something when a man is kind enough to mansplain it. My favorite thing is when they explain the workings of the female reproductive system.

A mansplanation is much like an explanation, but done so in a manner that is easier to understand for us women. You know, because our brains don’t work like men’s do.

One time, I was at the gas station standing there completely flabbergasted about what kind of snack I wanted to eat. Then a helpful gentleman moseyed up behind me, grabbed my hips and said, “Excuse me, little lady. I’m just trying to help you when I tell you that you probably don’t need any chocolate or a cookie. There are bananas for sale upfront at $.89 each.” He winked at me and walked away. So, that is when I got my first felony.

Thousands of mansplanations later, I am a Property Manager of over 185 rental properties which includes having to oversee many different vendors and contractors. Many of which whom are older and maler than I am. Some have no problem getting direction from a woman, but others feel the need to try to argue with me and mansplain everything.

I’ve had them mansplain the way air filters work and where they go, how to reset a garbage disposal, and how to find the cheapest tampons. Yes, they know everything. There is literally no need for us to learn anything.

But without the mansplanation, how would I have learned how to put air in my tires? How would I have learned the price per pound of groceries?

I hope one day to teach my own sons the art of mansplaining. I realize I am not a man, but I’ve experienced it enough to teach it, I believe. I’m sure a man will correct me if I’m wrong in this opinion.

Maybe once society gets this under their belt, we can work on the womansplanation. I’m imagining it to make a lot more sense and to include a lot more logic instead of, “Because I said so.” It might even include graphs and references.