Well, not really. But in honor of today being Fat Tuesday and me being on what seems as an endless eating marathon, I figured I celebrate food.

I love food! I love all kinds of food (except Chinese and Mexican).

I especially love chocolate. I could live off of chocolate. No really, I could. I would lay around all day putting them in my mouth, letting them melt on my tongue and even savoring the warm juice in my mouth for a while.

I especially love them nuts. Yummmmmy.

My greatest weakness is bread. Nowadays with the low-carb lifestyles everyone seems to be following, it’s almost like you’re committing a cardinal sin when you have bread with your meal. Nothing beats a peice of bread to scoop up all the yummy sauce left on the plate. I like to stick a couple fingers inside and get right into the soft center. But alas it is much like the forbidden fruit, tastes so good…

Most of the time I like to cook at home. These days with the cold I prefer to snuggle up on the sofa with a bowl of soup and let it warm me up from the inside out. Mmmm…good to the last drop.

*_{Pictures via Funnydaze}

I don’t really feel like writing your horospokesâ„¢ today. I mean, I tried to get in the mood. I lit some incense, Windexed my crystal ball, and even stood outside in the friggin’ freezing NY cold to look at the stars. In the end, all this only made me horny and I spent much of the evening masturbating with a Homedics heated back massager.

So, now I still don’t want to write them and I’m tired. As you may have deduced, this means that you’re probably screwed this week and I won’t spend much time explaining the reasons why.

Aries (March 21-April 19)
You’re known for being generally perfect and everything, so I’m sure that you’ll be fine this week. And if something comes up, just fucking deal with it instead of bitching, ok?

Taurus (April 20-May 20)
Uh, whatever. You’re like the bull or something, which should mean that you’re like strong or something. But I’m guessing it just means that you’re full of shit.

Gemini (May 21-June 21)
You talk too much, flirt too much, and are entirely too into yourself. I hope someone kicks your ass this week, and that when you cry, no one cares.

Cancer (June 22-July 22)
Stop being so serious and family-oriented. We’re not much more than some amoebas with (in some cases) slightly higher IQs. Go backpack in the fucking Adirondacks this week and see if your marital problems still make you sleepless at night.

Leo (July 23-August 22)
Whatever. You’re great, you get lots of attention. You will always have just as many people hating you as you have admirers.

Virgo (August 23-September 22)
You are suffering from OCD and need medication. You make other people’s lives unbearable, you selfish, selfish asshole.

Libra (September 23-October 22)
Uh, stop trying to make everything perfect. You’re episodes are merely adding to the chaos around you, drama queen.

Scorpio (October 23-November 21)
You totally remind me of a mix between that fat queen that got voted off American Idol and the two black twins that were kicked off for being felons. Take that as you may this week.

Sagittarius (November 22-December 21)
I really know nothing about you. You’re forgettable. What’s your name again? Eh, nevermind. No one cares.

Capricorn (December 22-January 19)
You’re full of yourself and overweight. Most people are only goint to be nice to you because they think you’re powerful.

Aquarius (January 20-February 18)
I think you drink too much and for this reason, you will feel alone, even when you are surrounded by “friends.”

Pisces (February 19-March 20)
Stop dreaming and whining and crying. Fucking do something about it, pansyass.

Any questions?
(Well, let me answer the obvious one. This is what happens when your astrologer has a personal breakdown and really cannot muster an ounce of interest in helping you live your life.)

Greetings my faithful readers. I won’t be posting up the drunkcast this week because no time nor wifi has gotten the best of of me. In fact, I’m going out of town for a couple of days and I’m not, hold onto your chair, bringing my lappie. Don’t fret though, all will return to normal shortly. In the meantime I would like to use this opportunity to give a voice to all my readers. Do you like to talk to youself? Do you have a microphone? Have you always wanted to send us a message? Here’s your chance. Record your message and send it to us [meme at girlspoke dot com] or post the link to your mp3 in the comments.

I wanna hear what you have to say. Praise, insults, drunken gibberish…I want it all. Maybe we’ll even use your recording for a girlspoke mashup…the possibilities are endless.

I mean, the site is called Girlspoke after all. Don’t you think it’s about time that we helped you decipher exactly what kind of language this girlspeak is?

Today, we’ll take a gander at the world of the dreaded meat market–or, really any bar or social scene where a woman is prone to advances from her male viewers. So many of you boys may be jaded after too many nights of rejection. Wouldn’t you have rather she just told you no from the beginning instead of being such a bitch? Well, my dear….she was.

Here’s how to translate her subtle signs:

• Scenario #1

You say something funny.
She smirks or gives you a soft laugh.

Translation: You are annoying the fuck out of me. Under no circumstance should you take this as a hint to try again. She is not trying to be shy or cute.

• Scenario #2

You introduce yourself.
She says hi (no more, no less).

Translation: Ugh. You’re kind of ugly. Do you actually think you have a shot with me? She will only get more bitter. Pretend you see a friend across the bar and make like a tree.

• Scenario #3

You say hi and offer to buy her a drink.
She says, Umm, ok.

Translation: You’re never going to get in my pants, but I’ll let you buy me drinks all night. Just don’t hover. You never know. She may just get drunk enough…

• Scenario #4

You are simply walking by.
She grabs you and introduces you to a friend.

Translation: She wants nothing to do with you, but is looking to find a husband for her poor, pathetic, single girlfriend. Are you ready to settle down? How many children do you want? How much to you make? Car? Pets? House?

• Scenario #5

You are sitting at the bar, possibly alone, drinking.
She approaches without provocation and says something random.

Translation: I’m here just to entertain myself and my friends over there. Her and group are playing some Truth or Dare, Bar Edition. You are simply serving as a pawn in their game. However, later on, she may feel badly and come to console you.

• Scenario #6

You make eye contact from across the bar.
She reciprocates briefly, then whispers to her friend.

Translation: Dude, do you see that guy over there…don’t look! He’s still looking. The one with the blue and white button-up? Yeah. Hahahahaha! She thinks you’re out of her league and they’re laughing at you. And people around them can probably hear it all.

• Scenario #7

You groove on up next to her on the dance floor.
She turns her back to you.

Translation: OhmygodOhmygod…this fucking dirtbag better not fucking stick his VD’d crotch on my fucking ass. She’s turning away to say um, no NOT please grind on me.

Does that make more sense to you now? Totally obvious, right?
Stay tuned for the next installment of Let Me Explain… We’ll tackle what she wants you to say when you’re asked a question. Oh, and that body language. And let’s not even start on what lies behind the classics No, it’s ok. You don’t have to and Whatever.

Ah, humpday!

Today I’d like to start a new wednesday tradition. I don’t know if I’ll keep up with it but damn if I’m not gonna try. Starting today I will highlight the best of the, well, rest I guess. The best that is not me. You know, the good stuff on other websites. Sounds crazy, but there is a ton of good stuff out there. So then shut your whining, here ya go.

I’m not sure what bothers me more about this contract: the font or the egregious spelling and grammatical errors. Maybe it’s the stipulation: “All applications of lube to myself, you, or any object, will be done by you.”

What? He can’t squeeze a tube? [The Smoking Gun]

It’s not the best time in the history of the world to be a people hater. [Wired]

If the idea of watching The Bachelor makes you want to pierce your eyeballs with Bic Pens then let this lass give you the run down. [nothing but bonfires]

Bring out the Macgyver in all of you. “With just a few office supplies that you were gonna steal anyway, you can construct your own weapons of mass destruction.” [The Man Blog]

“Women who like banana-nut bread enjoy romantic and sexual fantasies…” Is that because of the bananas? Or the nuts? [NY Post]

I can’t believe I didn’t write this: “How to give Oral Sex to Bloggers in Return for PR Favors” [Jeremy Zawodny's blog]

1. Find a date

You’re better off taking the money out of your bank account and handing it out at your local bar. You may even learn that the 26 dimensions of your personality is really the 26 times you need to get rejected before you settle.

2. Buy a dildo

Mental note: dildo the size of bottle of rum = pain. Mental note 2: Make sure rum bottle is full before insertion.

3. Get laid during Mardi Gras

Somewhere between the hat and the members-only style jacket this unfortunate young man decided that striking a pose ala vogue would be a good thing. He may want to go the “hand out money at the local bar” route.

4. End a date

Looking down the barrel of a gun means the date took a turn at some point in the evening. Don’t overanalyze it this point, you’re screwed.

First off, I just know you love my PhotoShop skills. But let’s focus on what’s important here: your weekly destiny. Unfortunately, I’m catching some crazy contradicting vibes from nearly everyone. Some of you, if not all, are feeling a bit down, but at the same time, your creative, um, juices are pumping on full throttle. But I’m here to wade through the mess that is your life and make some sense of it all. Either you could just load up on those little blue pills (not that there’s anything wrong with that), or you could read on so that you don’t suffer a schizophrenic meltdown this week…

Aries (March 21-April 19)
You totally deserve a pat on the back this week, Aries. You’ve had a shitstorm of, well, shit, running your life for the past few weeks, and you’ve handled it like a damn pro. Of course, you’ve always been one to keep your game face on at all times. But if you’re feeling fragile at some point this week, try to remind yourself of what you’ve already achieved. Things are getting better and a breakdown in the midst of it is not going to help anyone. So I congratulate you, but strongly encourage you not to fucking cry.

Taurus (April 20-May 20)
You’re in a new place, whether that’s figurative or metaphoric, and you’re torn about how to feel. You’re having fun with the new scenery, but you’re missing what you’ve left behind. Your cure to this week’s schizophrenic episode is to remember that these things can coexist. You can have your cake and eat it too if you are willing to give it some time. This will not be an immediate reward venture. Of course, this does not apply to visiting that whore while keeping your trophy wife in San Francisco. That shit’s just gonna get you some hefty alimony payments.

Gemini (May 21-June 21)
I’m sorry to report that I have some more tough love for you this week, Gemini. You are kind of losing yourself in the midst of a personal struggle. You have a goal set, and you’re perfectly capable of reaching it, but you seem to be sabatoging yourself before things even start moving. There has to be a balance between work and pleausre. Just because you’re feeling anxious does not mean that you have an automatic invite to the world’s biggest pity party. Sometimes life just sucks, ok? Move on or be left behind. As wacky-eyed Thom Yorke says, you do it to yourself. (And that’s why it’s really funny.)

Cancer (June 22-July 22)
Cancer, your week of schizo involves people you love. Are you annoyed with a close friend? Maybe feeling out of touch with your family? Whatever it is, I’m sensing that you’re kind of longing for someone to chat with, but feel somewhat abandoned by those close to you. Here’s what you need to do: this disconnect is not fair and you need to communicate just that. I know you’re not afraid to use your vocabulary skills with fervor, so what’s holding you back? Don’t get sad, get fucking vocal.

Leo (July 23-August 22)
You are keeping your shit together like a pro this week. Seriously, people are wondering how you manage to keep smiling through this all. The problem is that this act is going to falter at an inconvenient moment. Keeping the facade going is admirable, but also kind of, well, retarded. Take a few moments this week, an evening maybe, and just fucking decompress. Hopefully your decompressing does not include a screaming match; I’m thinking more along the lines of some bar-hopping or shopping.

Virgo (August 23-September 22)
You’re acting a bit out of character this week. Maybe a bit manic? Frantic? Another -ic? Your typically calm and collected persona is going to be put through the ringer this week. You’re dealing with some variables in your life that are out of your control, but just remind yourself that it’a all about finding your balance. Just try to remember that a little freaking is understandable, but a lot of it is worthy of institutionalization, ok? But, no pressure.

Libra (September 23-October 22)
Libra, you’re feeling a bit excentric this week, aren’t you? If there’s an urge within you to kick things up a bit and just burst out some color into your otherwise black & white lifestyle, you shouldn’t hesitate. This itch is nature’s cure for your possible shcizophrenic break. Too much of the same makes Jack a dull boy, as you already know. What you may not know is that it also makes you kind of obnoxious and totally pretentious. Heh. So yeah, try to work on that one. Let lose in the big city or something. Maybe a strip club? A trip to Hedonism? I’d stear clear of the dirty whores, though.

Scorpio (October 23-November 21)
I knew this would happen! Dude, you had a good momentum going and now you’ve let it putter out to a complete stop. Now, while we walk to get some overpriced gasoline, let’s chat. You’re feeling unsteady, unsure, torn. I get it. But dude, there’s only so much of this in-between shit that you can waste your time with. Stop second-guessing yourself and those around you. Just fucking jump in or I swear to the gods that I’m going to push you myself. Here, I’ll even give you some gas money.

Sagittarius (November 22-December 21)
You seem a bit hyper this week, Sag. If you’re anxious to get something done, then you just need to get off your ass and do it. I mean, sitting there biting your nails is certainly not going to expedite the process. Plus, it’s kind of nasty when you spit the little nail pieces all over the floor. Someone has to clean that up, you know. Or, worse, they’ll stay there until they disintegrate and turn into dust particles that settle all over the furniture and your guests’ skin. Is that what you fucking want, punk?

Capricorn (December 22-January 19)
You are totally cute and likeable this week. Your people skills are right on target and you’ll be in excellent position to manipulate any situation for your benefit. The problem is that you’re still being a bit catty with all this gossip shit. If you’re going to be nice, do it right and stop being a closet bitch. Not only is it going to ruin your credibility, but it’s also giving us true bitches a lousy reputation. And don’t think we won’t team up and come pounce on your ass either, because we live for that shit.

Aquarius (January 20-February 18)
I think you’re happy with your life at this point, but you’re still longing for something else. The annoying part, kind of like your friends the Geminis, is that you’re kind of sabatoging yourself. I think your issue is more frustrating because you’re fully aware that you’re avoiding life for fear of its inevitable ass beatings. You may be having fun living in ignorance, but that tactic has an expiration date, my friend. Once you’re in your late twenties and beyond, it’s obvious to everyeone and yourself that you’ve simply become a pathetic loser. And there is totally everything wrong with that.

Pisces (February 19-March 20)
Ok, deep breaths. You are sad, annoyed, angry, frustrated, and totally in need of some sedation. I mean, it doesn’t help that you can hear your neigbor banging his girlfriend, or that you’ve gained 10 pounds, or even that you seem to think that drinking an entire bottle of wine will actually help your depression. Your cure for this week’s schizophrenia is to keep busy (and, of course, keep taking your meds). Nothing good can come of your stagnant behavior. So let’s start rehydrating and then hit the gym, fatty!

Make sure you read this several times throughout the week so that it increases the odds that all your personalities can absorb the information. And if someone puts you in a padded room, or even just locks you in the closet this week, please know that it’s for your own good. Plus I’m sure it totally hurts them more than it hurts you. That’s what all that padding is for.

See y’all next week!

Welcome to DrunkCastâ„¢ friday. TGIDCF!

This week we explored issues important to our readers, or at least one of them. And we exposed our softer, more natural sides. And I finally succeeded in grossing Jenna out, I was beginning to think it was impossible.

Ok, as usual sit back, pour yourself a glass of wine and take your pants off.

I know I usually give out advice, but today the tables are turned. I need some advice from all of you. Why is it that, every time I use my favorite expletive phrase, people look at me as if I’ve just cut a newborn puppy in half? All I’ve done is let the words “suck my dick” fall from my lips. OK, they don’t actually fall from my lips as much as they exit forcibly like tiny projectiles precisely honed in on their target. And it’s not so much people who look at me in disgust as it is men, particularly the men I’ve said it to over the years.

These men have told me it’s not cool for a woman to utter such a thing, mostly because I don’t have the requisite equipment for having that particular act performed on me. (That’s right, I don’t have a penis, despite those nasty rumors Meme started a while back.) But I say, who fucking cares if I actually have a dick? I live my life as if I do, which is what matters. And it’s only language, after all. Plus, it’s great language. Point out a different phrase that’s equally satisfying to say and calls forth such a strong image, and I will be all over it. (Just keep in mind, it has to be dirty — very, very dirty.)

I tried saying lick my vag as a substitute, but it seems more like an invitation than a proper bitch-slappin’, and I definitely don’t want to get jumped by the men I am trying to admonish. Blow me is also an inferior phrase. It doesn’t pack the same wallop.

So help me out with this one. Are the men I know right about this? Have I gone boldly into language territory where no woman should ever go, like the time I tried to pull off using the word dude in front a group of guys? Or am I a righteous, empowered brassy chica who refuses to be held back by predefined ideas about who is allowed to use which expletives? (Or, as Jenna would say, Is saying suck my dick so my balls?)

Oh, and if you leave a comment offering me an alternative phrase to use, better make it good. Or else I’ll be left with no option. I’ll have to tell you in no uncertain terms: Suck. My. Dick.

P.S. Had a terrible Valentine’s Day. It can so suck my dick.

Dear Valentine,
Thank you for such a wonderful day. I really can’t thank you enough! My day got off to a really great start when I got a sweet little valentine in the morning from the meter maid. Not too long after that, I got a lovely phone call from my ex in which we got in an argument about the really important yet unlabelled videotapes he’s left at my house for the last 12 months. Following that phone call, I got another–this one from my always sympathetic and completely supportive mother–who suggested I watch the Olympics that evening, as I clearly had no plans. The important thing was that I felt really good as I was still spastically hacking every 30 seconds and my cheeks exhibited, if anything, a healthy glow . All the chocolates were gone by the time I got to work, nothing left save a few heavily palmed smarties. On the way to the lavatory, I overheard my secret crush talking about the romantic scavenger hunt he had planned for the woman he just started seeing that evening. At lunch I took a leisurely two-mile walk to the local drugstore to buy more some more of those tasty cough drops. There, I marveled at all the last-minute shoppers picking over the dregs of the teddy bears. For a brief moment I actually considered myself lucky . And then, that moment quickly passed .

On the way home I listened to some heartwarming tunes that only made me cry once! As I gazed longingly into my barren mailbox, I reminded myself that, at least, I hadn’t eaten the entire pint of ice cream last night. Settling down to a scintillating evening of hacking, doing my taxes and not being able to watch the Olympics because I forgot to pay last month’s cable bill, I contentedly poured myself a glass of Nyquil and called it a night. Thank you St. Valentine. It was a day to remember.

Your pal,
Casey

Images courtesy of google