Sunday Brunch – The Victory Lap

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“Gentle reminder, it’s not a walk of shame if you stop for brunch on the way” – the internet (so it must be true.)

 

The morning after. We’ve all had that nightmare of a moment where you open your eyes and you don’t recognize the ceiling, or the uncomfortable mattress you’re currently laying on, you don’t even recognize the limp arm draped across your chest or the snoring that’s coming from beside you. It was probably during those two slutty years of college, or… last weekend. You don’t want to look, you want to close your eyes and hope that the Sandman is playing one of his nasty tricks again.

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But you know in your heart of hearts, that last night after what should have been your last gin and tonic, your alter ego Mercedes made an appearance and took home this fine fella, who, after you look him over you realize, eh, you’ve done worse. He’s probably a gentleman and would open your car door for you should he ever take you out on a date (chivalry, lol!) But you know what this means, Mercedes left you lookin a mess, like your closest relative is the raccoon digging through the dumpster out back.

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Luckily that skanky bitch (aka drunk you) didn’t pack your bag and you learned your lesson after the fifth (-teenth) time you had to walk home in your stilettos and a pair of his basketball shorts. Sliding out from under the clammy fingers trying to grope you even in his sleep (gentleman, remember?) you start picking up the trail of scattered clothes like they’re breadcrumbs you left yourself the night before. After you get over the initial terror that is looking back at you in the bathroom mirror, you wash your face with a questionable bar soap and throw your hair up with the single hair tie in your purse. Stealing one of his oversized t shirts you tie it in a cute knot at your hip and pull on your black spanx, the ones without the pee hole because they can actually pass for workout shorts – and who just went to the gym? You did! (damn girl, you healthy AF). Rolling up your outfit from the night before you shove it into your purse (yes, its small enough that it can fit in there) and you leave your prince charming (does anyone remember what his name is?) to start your very respectable “I got laid” parade knowing your mother will never be proud of you. But you still cute though!

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Stay pretty. maddie-signature

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Sunday Brunch – Boy Bye

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“Gentle reminder, it’s not a walk of shame if you stop for brunch on the way” – the internet (so it must be true.)

 

Once upon a time you hooked up with a fuckboy. It happens, no judgements. And then there was a full moon, or Aries entered Mercury or maybe you’re horoscope told you someone from your past was going to come back into your life – romantically. And there he was again… the fuckboy. But this time, he was different, he took you out on a date… A REAL DATE, like out in public, with other people around (WHAT!?) And then that date turned into two and then three and then next thing you know his shit is in your house, as in permanently. How did this happen? Fast forward one fight, then two and then you break up with him… because he will always be a fuckboy (it’s in his DNA or he’s just an asshole, whatever) and then he leaves and you finally get your blessed 2nd toothbrush space back (like that space is for important people, as in not you).

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A few months later you’re perusing the mall, minding your own damn business when you see him. And you try to run or hide or be someone else, but alas, lady luck is not on your side today. So you smile and wave and oh there she is, the skank of the week threading her arm through his. Cue awkward small talk and the silent desperation to be anywhere but here because his attempt at showcasing Brittney who looked like she just finished her shift on the pole is starting to seriously piss you off.

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The next day your phone rings – a number you don’t recognize. After answering, you realize why you don’t answer calls from numbers you don’t know. Its him, he wants to know if you still have his black hoodie. Obviously not (LOL turns around in mirror admiring said black hoodie. It looks better on you anyways.) And then he says the words because his ego can’t take whatever bullshit he thinks he heard, “Seriously, it’s been like a year, I think it’s time you got over it. I’ve moved on, maybe you should too.” You bite your tongue against telling him about the multiple O’s from the man who just left your bed that morning, a foot taller, built like a god and trumped his pencil dick in every way possible.

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Naturally you decide to be the bigger person. Maybe. Maybe not. Because how the hell else are you supposed to deal with Satan’s biological son? In the nicest way possible you tell him his only real promise at a relationship will be with someone who’s not actually sure if she wants a boyfriend or if she’s really just hungry and has high hopes for change. So thanks for the memories but you need to leave… like my life… like forever. Because sweetheart, I am SO over you.

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Drink water, be kind, stay away from douchebags. maddie-signature

Sunday Brunch – The Delusional Dater

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“Gentle reminder, it’s not a walk of shame if you stop for brunch on the way” – the internet (so it must be true.)

Aloof; calm, cool and collected, put down the phone. These are the things you keep repeating to yourself over and over because you just had the best sex of your life and now he’s leaving and you don’t want him to leave, you want him to stay… forever. And ever. But you can’t say that, you can’t even allude to it because that would make you bat shit crazy, and he doesn’t need to see that side of you… yet. So as he slings on his jacket, you subtly sniff the air around him just to get one last smell of that delicious cologne that shredded your panties, you smile at him and thank him for the great night. Aloof, calm, cool and collected.

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You lay in bed with a smile on your face as you start to map out your future with Mr. Right (now) and you can’t wait for your 2nd date. He hasn’t asked you on a 2nd date yet, but you know its coming, it has to be coming, this night was just too perfect. You send a message to your group chat of best girlfriends and tell them all about your date and that you’ve found the one. THE ONE.

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The next day you consider deleting your Tinder because why would you need it anymore? His text still hasn’t come but it will, you know it will. You scroll through his photos again with a wistful sigh as you plan out how the holidays are going to work, will he come over for Thanksgiving? You want him to meet your mom, she will love him.

You keep this mindset until your best friend comes over and slaps you out of your delusional fog of bullshit and makes you realize he’s just another fuckboy (who still hasn’t text you) who gave you a great orgasm. She tells you orgasms are great but fuckboys aren’t. ‘The One’ and fuckboy are not words you put in a sentence together, the only word that should go with a fuckboy is BYE.

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Put yourself first, eat pizza and realize how fucking gorgeous you are. maddie-signature

Sunday Brunch – Nudes or Nah?

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“Gentle reminder, it’s not a walk of shame if you stop for brunch on the way” – the internet (so it must be true.)

 

Is it just me or are sending nudes the new “tell me about yourself” ?

 

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I can’t remember the last time a conversation didn’t go from “what are you up to?” to “send me pics” and you know, you know, “send me pics” doesn’t mean he wants a photo of you posing with your dog from your last hike.

So the question is… do you send nudes? I mean, in today’s world of what we call “dating” which lets be honest, the new definition of dating in the world of tinder and bumble is who is going to next end up in my bed, is there really any other way to get to know a person? I could count on one hand the number of guys that have actually told me their last name before sending me a dick pic. But really, how else are you supposed to know if he has the ability to give you a dazzling O if you don’t look at the goods beforehand?

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And in the world of dick pics, vagina selfies are an essential, integral part of the game. If you receive a dick pic, they are most likely wanting something in return, what happened to the givers of the world? It’ll take about 57 tries until you get that one perfect shot, you know, that one angle where you end up turning yourself on, like damn girl, who is you? So grab the wine and get your posing on; who knows, maybe your soulmate lies in the next, tell me about yourself 😉 (it’s all in the winky face)

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Know your worth, be kind, take care of your vagina. maddie-signature

Sunday Brunch – Side Pieces

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“Gentle reminder, it’s not a walk of shame if you stop for brunch on the way” – the internet

 

Alright, so I literally had to Urban Dictionary this shit;

Urban Dictionary: The other woman. Also see Goomad.

So naturally, I looked up Goomad: Italian Term for the broad you’re banging on the side. The other woman.

While I was on my Googling journey, I came across this catchy little tune entitled Side Pieces by Drake and Brian McKnight that I listened to probably twenty times in part because its Drake and Brian McKnight and the fact that its actually hilarious, each time making me painfully aware of how pathetic dating can actually be.

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I know you’ll never be more
And you’ll always be less
But there’s comfort in knowing that you’re okay being second best
I already got a starter but I’m looking for the rest of my team

This is probably one of those terms that was invented to cover up the negative stigma that clouds “The Other Woman” or “Mistress” (ew) but side piece well, that sounds like something you could handle, maybe even a little bit classy (lol, yeah right) and that perhaps you don’t need to reevaluate every aspect of your life.

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Have I ever been someone’s side piece? 100% I have, I don’t know if I know anyone who hasn’t been someone’s side piece at one point in their life or another whether they knew it at the time or not. Are you kind of an asshole if you know you’re the side piece and keep him in your roster anyways? Maybe. Okay probably, but no judgements girl, it’s your journey.

I ended up going out with this football player who I’d met on some random dating app and when he invites you to his house as your “first date” (we’re going to loosely use the word date here) if you don’t know what’s going to happen, well, honey, you shouldn’t be going to his house then. Naturally I texted his name and address to my girl, you know, safety and shit. I knocked on his door and in less than ten minutes of me being there, my skanky ass was naked. I couldn’t be ashamed, I had to own it; one thing I’ve learned, life is way too short to be embarrassed of your inner slut, let her free girl.

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You know how they say, it’s not the size that matters, it’s how he uses it? Well boy was hitting tens in every category. It was a memorable afternoon that had me smiling for a few days; until I realized the sweet nothings he was whispering in my ear, he was whispering them in other ears too. I wasn’t just the side piece, I was one in a harem of side pieces. There were no rules, it wasn’t a relationship, I basically showed up at his doorstep in my birthday suit begging to be touched by this sexy giant, but in the end, it wasn’t enough for me. One thing I learned from this experience was the fact that I’m not okay with fighting for someone’s attention, I’m greedy and I want all of it.

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So the questionable morals of the side piece fairy tale, should you settle for being runner up? (hell no) Remember, you’re a side piece for a reason, that reason being he’s a shitty human being.

Side Pieces – just another play in the mindfuckery game of dating. Don’t share your crown, girl; wear it, own it, you’re a queen.

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Nuts by Alice Clayton -REVIEW

BOOK DESCRIPTION: 

From New York Times bestselling author Alice Clayton, the first in a brand-new romance series telling the humorously sexy tale of Roxie, a private chef who gets a taste of love—but is it to stay, or to go?

After losing almost all of her clients in one fell swoop following an accident involving whipped cream, private chef to Hollywood’s elite Roxie Callahan gets a call from her flighty mother, saying she’s needed home in upstate New York to run the family diner. Once she’s back in the Hudson Valley, local organic farmer Leo delivers Roxie a lovely bunch of walnuts, and soon sparks—and clothing—begin to fly. Leo believes that everything worth doing is worth doing slowly… and how! But will Roxie stay upstate, or will the lure of West Coast redemption tempt her back to Tinseltown?

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REVIEW:

I know I’m going to get a great read if I pick up an Alice Clayton novel and this one didn’t disappoint. I finished this book in less than two days and couldn’t put it down.
I loved the story between Roxie and her sexy farmer Leo and had me wondering if I should take a drive down to Bailey Falls for my own rugged farmer and a jar of zombie pickles.
I love the relationship between Roxie and her hippie mom and the obstacles that define their relationship and the reason Roxie has to return home in the first place.
Clayton writes in a way where you can feel the passion the Roxie has for her food and her man; its a heart-warming story that is relateable and steamy and a wonderful, fun, easy summer read.
Even as a standalone, I thought the next novel was set up subtly and smoothly and I cannot wait to get my hands on it!
Cheers Ms. Clayton, you did it again!

STALKING ENCOURAGED:

http://aliceclayton.com/

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Denai Bound (book 2) by Tiffany Shand- REVIEW

BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Denai witch, Cate McCray should be enjoying married life with her new elemental husband, Jason. But their arrival in a new city soon has them stumbling headlong into a new case with dangerous connections to the very people that govern their world. Cate and Jason face opposition from those they once considered allies. Together with their team of enforcers, they must find the killer before anyone else dies. With danger from all sides and the threat of ancient, dangerous magic the team must pull together and use all their strength to find their enemy before disaster strikes.

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REVIEW:

Denai Bound I thought was just as good as the first novel in this series.
The way Shand writes in the paranormal sense is incredible and draws you into the story and into a world I could only wish to experience!
I was pulled into the story almost immediately; there was a seamless flow from the first book to the second that didn’t have me asking questions or confused about what may have happened in between. I love romance but I also love paranormal in all genres and I thought there was a nice balance between the two in this book.
I always love how strong Cate is and the relationship between her and Jason. A strong female lead is the be all end all for me and this story had a strong heroin to lead it. I enjoyed getting to know some of the other characters like Jade, Steve and Ian and read how their relationships were starting to build along with how Cate was learning to manage all of the power, both magic and responsibility with her title of GM and Enforcer. I also really liked the the progression of the enemy in this story (not to name names and give anything away!) however I found my emotions evoked with each encounter. Shand did a wonderful job with the mystery behind the evil in this story and really had me guessing as to who could possibly be behind chaos.
Overall I really enjoyed this story – if you’re looking for a magical, suspenseful, romantical, summer read – Denai Bound is the one for you.
*I would definitely recommend that you read Denai Touch (the first in the series) first*

 

Where to find Tiffany Shand:

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