DIRTY PICTURES

I decided to send dirty pictures for the first time. I figure for someone as sexually intrigued as I am it was about damn time I check off that box (Mom & Dad, I'd stop reading here). So I decide A) I gotta do it when I'm horny (which consumes most hours of my day anyways...so wasn't too worried about that) and B) I'm not going to tell him I'm doing this; I'll just suprise him with the pics. Simple enough, right? WRONG. Taking sexy pictures is really difficult. I'd almost venture to say it is an art form....that I have not yet mastered. The way this photo shoot went down was anything but sexy. It was comical really. So here's how it played out...

1) I try on about 6 different outfits. Okay maybe "outfits" is giving myself a little bit too much credit in the lingerie department. It was more like different combinations of undergarments. I decide on a black thong, black thigh highs, and black heels. I snap a test shot and quickly realize that there is nothing sexy about this outfit. The thigh highs are too tight on the thighs and singe them like they are some form of Nikelodeon Gak. Furthermore when I lay down, since I decide I'm going to do the shot from the waist down, these fabulous, patent leather, hooker heels hanging off the side of the bed oddly resemble the Wicked Witch of the West lying dead under the house. I had to change outfits. I change into a pair of thigh highs (don't be fooled, I really don't own that many pairs) I bought with an ex at the Pleasure Chest in Hollywood. They're like a really cheap, shitty pair, of whore hose with a garter belt attached all in one. If I recall correctly, I put them on with my ex and he laughed... However, these comical hose seemed to photograph well. The only problem was that there was a hole in the toe, but I figure if I point hard enough the toe won't be seen and my legs will look more defined...sure Leah. I throw on a pair of pink and black panties to complete the ensemble.

2) I now must figure out a way to contort my body so that is looks sexy and natural, instead of forced and uncomfortable, which in reality it was. Determing what angle to take the shot is a whole other story for another day. Let's just say I have now seen myself in ALL ANGLES. So were now about a good 15-20 minutes into my sexy photo shoot. I've got my outfit on, I figure out my positioning, I have the exact angle, I point my toe and start clicking away.

3) I now have about 30 pictures of myself that are virtually the exact same that I have to sort through. If anyone was to look through my phone I would simply not have an explanation for the gallery of photos that, again, all pretty much look alike. I would be forced to ask,"Sooo, you got a favorite?" And that's exactly what I did. I figure I can't send my dude a montage of pictures because that would be a little aggressive and borderline weird. So since I can't exactly hit up my girfriends to help me sort through half naked photos of myself, I decide I'll hit up a guy I used to sleep with...cause that's normal right. SO I send him a text that says "Hey you! I could use your help. Call me ASAP." He's slightly still in love with me so I knew he would jump all over this. So he calls, I tell him what's up, he's slightly distrubed by the fact that I'm hitting him up to help me choose pics for another guy, but whatever he obviously jumps all over the chance to see these pics of me. I send him the pics but preface it with the fact that if he should show these to anyone I will tell all of his friends how he yodels when he cums.

4. I now have my 2 pictures picked out (that only took about 30+ minutes) and a huge side of confidence. I get all excited and send the 2 winners to my dude. I anxiously anticipate what he will respond with, especially after all of the love I got from this other guy I used to bang. So 22 minutes later (yes, I know the exact duration of time that passed because I'm BAT.SHIT.CRAZY) he responds with "You should wear those more often." THAT WAS IT!!! "You should wear those more often"!!!! WTF. SO I just wasted about 40 minutes of my life trying to take these pictures, reached out to a guy I used to sleep with who now won't go away and has half-naked pictures of me to be told "You should wear those more often". I wanted to respond with "I would, but there is a huge fucking hole in the toe and they're itchy as fuck." But of course I didnt and wrote back "Next time..."

I'm Boardwalk, You're Oriental Avenue.

I find that a Monopoly board accurately displays the game of hooking-up. In both games, you decide to play, you pick your pawn, you start at GO, and you strategize a win. However, unlike in Monopoly, in the game of hooking-up you need to know where you're valued on the board. This is very important. Because in this game there is no rolling of the dice or flipping of cards to maneuver you on the board. (Imagine that you are a little person walking on the board, starting at GO) So ask yourself: Am I Boardwalk...or Am I Oriental Avenue? It is imperative that you know your value because this knowledge will keep you out of jail, away from paying income tax, and closer to passing GO and collecting $200. SO LET'S GET STARTED!!!

RULES OF THE GAME:

1. PICK YOUR PAWN:
will you flash your RACECAR, entice others by wearing a TOP HAT, or lure them in with a DOG? Like in monopoly you use a pawn to help you on your quest. PAWN: a peon, or in other words a powerless person; often used to describe someone or something that is used or manipulated. Why not? If you got the Aston Martin bring that bad boy out. It will only increase your stock. (Don't hate the player, hate the game)

2. UNDERSTAND THE 4 QUADRANTS OF THE BOARD:
One must fully understand the 4 quadrants of people and their values for two reasons: (1) you need to know where to classify people so that you know their expectations (2) you need to know where to classify yourself so you know what to expect...know your boundaries and limitations.

-Q1: Mediterranean Avenue to Connecticut Avenue: Those who fall in this quadrant tend to be peoples' last resort. They're what's left over at the end of the night. They linger around, hope you're drunk enough, and take just about anything that comes their way. They're available, cheap, no standards for the buyer, an agent is completely unnecessary, and you don't have to go very far to obtain this person. My Advice: if you're in Q1 then stick to what you know; it's probably best to let someone hit on you; and try not to take it personally...you're not fully to blame for your unfortunate classification.

-Q2: St. Charles Place to New York Avenue: Q2 is what I consider to be the generic quadrant. This is your generic male and female...nothing exciting. Whether it be their personality, looks, style, job, whatever it is they just don't stand out. People actually tend to notice Q1 more than Q2 (but not because of a positive reaction). Most people frolic in this quadrant...in varying degrees...but the vast majority of people are Q2ers. Relatively inexpensive, standard, you really just need decent credit to grab up one of these. My Advice: if you're in Q2 then you're not completely an unfortunate victim, so maybe see what you can do increase your stock. Now I'm not saying you'll be able to leap up to Q3...but maybe you'll be a more distinguished Q2...perhaps a Q2 1/2...(sky's the limit right)

-Q3: Kentucky Avenue to Marvin Gardens: Here we go, now we're in the game. Quality starts here. Those in Q3 stand out for one reason or another. They're alluring, interesting, distinguishable, and of value (to mankind). The test to determine if you're a Q3er: there is a magnetic quality to you and people will be drawn to you. Not your friends and family. I mean the general public will feel your force. They don't come cheap. Those in Q3 pick their buyer, set their price, and evict without notice. My Advice: Q1s and Q2s...don't hurt yourself. But if you're another Q3 or Q4 then go for it confidently...because a Q3 knows that there is still a step above them. Their bark is bigger than their bite. Q3s do have the opportunity to rise to a Q4.

-Q4: Pacific Avenue to Boardwalk: HELLO! If you're a Q4 then you know who you are and we know who you are. Very few make it to Q4...and at that, there are varying levels within Q4. They're unattainable, not for sale, immaculate people. Men and Women envy those in Q4. They usually only frolic in their quadrant. My Advice: BUYER BEWARE!

3. CHANCE SPACES:
You will encounter CHANCE in the game. This is the time where you will have to weigh risk vs. reward...this is where you will have to take a gamble. You have the option here to remain at the level you have progressed to on the board OR you can take the chance and try for the next level. However, should the next level not be obtainable you may risk losing the place you were at, get stuck with nothing...or worse have to take the leftovers. The choice is yours, and yours alone.

4. JAIL
Jail is anything that could go wrong. Any position that you find yourself in that you don't want to be in...that's jail.

5. FREE PARKING:
If you make it to free parking then take it. Cause paying for parking fucking sucks. So you didn't pass Go or collect $200. Get over it. Enjoy the Free Parking.

6. WHO'S THE WINNER?:
Great question. In this game there is no specific winner. You determine your success in the game. It's all about strategy.

QUICK TIPS:
1. determine your value so that you are not overvaluing nor undervaluing yourself
2. take a chance
3. if the chance fails, don't take them anymore
4. stay away from Reading Railroad...weird shit happens there
5. if you're Oriental Avenue and you get the opportunity to make it to Boardwalk (if you get the chance to hook up with someone out of your league) - don't get cocky, don't get nervous, get confident and GO GET IT. Also, make sure to see all that Boardwalk has to offer because it's only a short vacation.

Geico In Wonderland

Drugs make magic happen.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tQ_fnYhI1HU

Can You Do That????

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Do You Hear What I Hear???...You Bettaaaa.

Women hear what they want to hear. It doesn't matter what a guy says to a woman; she's going to hear exactly what she wants to hear...and then she's gonna get mad at you when you didn't hear it too. That's right, she's not going to understand what you don't understand about what she understands you said. Guy says, "I'm hungry." He means he's hungry...and hungry enough to say it out loud. Girl hears, "He's takin me to dinner...we're goin on a date...we're gettin married." But if a woman says to another woman "I'm hungry," that's not what she's going to hear. She's just going to hear that girl's hungry. So THEN she's going to call/text/email/ichat/morse code with her girlfriends to confirm the translation of the "I'm hungry." (hazzard lights should be flashing DANGER DANGER DANGER) This should be illegal. Women counseling each other is a bigger detriment to society than drugs. The money the government uses on drug trafficking should be put towards the trafficking of womens' thoughts. IT MUST BE STOPPED. Cause once a woman starts to seek out the opinions of other women, the sky's the limit for the translation of "I'm hungry." If her girlfriends say he's saying he wants her to move in...then it must be true cause her girlfriends don't lie. So now she's all dressed, told everyone that she's got a date, and she calls him: "Where are you?" He says, "I'm at the Olive Garden with Billy. What are you doin?"...We all know what happens next. Women are crazy. We are. We're completely and totally psychotic. Of course we're irrational, we are so pumped with hormones that I scare myself. The only saving grace to our psychosis: The Power of The Pussy. (i know hate that word too, but I really like alliterations) Men stick around for this nonsense for one reason: women hold the power to open the gates of Narnia...and we know it. So do you hear what we hear??? Fuck no, of course not...but you better find a way to make it seem like you do.

Welcome to Hollywood. What's Your Dream?

Welcome to Hollywood. Thank you for choosing Wish Upon A Star airlines. Please proceed to your nearest dream!!...where you will take a number, stand in line, and we'll watch to see how high you're gonna climb. Cause this is Hollywood; we're all out here on a dream. Yeah sure, you have your doctors, lawyers, financiers, etc., etc. who aren't here to follow a dream. You have the born and raised LA kid who calls the West Coast "My Coast"...but let me tell you something kid: I'm sure your daddy came out here on a dream. So congratulations, neato, I don't give a fuck cause I'm not talking to you right now. So here's the thing, some dreams come true and some don't. It's the nature of the beast. Someone has got to stop telling little kids "You can be whatever you want to be when you grow up;" cause little kid it just doesn't work like that. Let me tell you how it works: Your dream in Hollywood needs...MUST be outweighed by your talent. Otherwise, just keep on dreamin. Now dreams come in all forms. I'm not just talking to the musicians, actors, writers, and directors. I'm talking to the gold-digging girl who moved here from Omaha, the vegan homeless man in Santa Monica, and the I-haven't-touched-a-carb-in-10-years personal trainer; because there are 50 more just like you and another 100 coming up on your tail. You have to SHINE to get your name in glitter in this town. So if you have talent and a dream then step right up and show us what you got. If you have a dream and no talent to back it, then get on out. Traffic already sucks. When it takes me three lights to actually get through the light...I think: shit we got too many talentless dreamers this month. Have I ever heard the saying hard work and dedication met with preparation yada yada yada?...Yes moron, I've heard the saying and FYI all those sayings are written by the people who HAVE talent. Here's my saying: If you've got talent (meaning you can make the ordinary look extraordinary), then be in the right place at the right time and do something about it; cause once you do...you're allowed to DREAM BIGGER DREAMS. From all of us in The Magic Kingdom, we hope you enjoy your stay in Hollywood.

Melts In Your Mouth, Not In Your Hands

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Toilet Paper Roll On Top Of Empty Roll

When the toilet paper runs out you will obviously not change the roll...that would just be silly! Instead, you will place the brand new roll on top of the empty cardboard cylinder that resides on your toilet paper dispenser. AND (most likely) that cardboard cylinder has been chillin there for what has now been multiple toilet paper exchanges. If what I have just described sounds all too foreign to you, perhaps even a little shocking, then you lead an unbearably rigid life...so for you I have provided a clip-art exhibit of this mastery.
Yes, that's right...MASTERY. What you see above takes skill, precision, and a comprehensive knowledge of true laziness. Do you have any idea the level of focus it takes to get the bulky, weighted, fresh roll to stay atop of the empty cardboard without it rolling off?? Okay, let's be honest...not much, but there is something to be said for the fact that it's like these dispensers were manufactured in such a way that they are suited to hold toilet paper not fastened in the dispenser. Huge fan of options...gotta love options. So why do we do this??? Why do we not simply remove the empty roll and replace is with the fresh roll?? This confusion only becomes more baffling when you consider the idea what we are sitting on the toilet and our hands have absolutely nothing to do...now that's what I call discipline in the art of laziness at its best. After fully pondering this subject and since I cannot call on the resting soul of Aristotle (I tried, he didn't answer)...I have come to the conclusion that this is just one of those ever-eternal questions that will remain unanswered.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h05ZQ7WHw8Y

For Here or to go

So I am not sure if it's just a California thing, but you know when you go to get your coffee in the morning and they ask you, "For here or to go?" Well if you don't, then listen next time because they do. Every time they ask that I think to myself what does it really matter; they are going to put it in a crappy paper cup with a "recycled" sleeve and a lid that manages to never stay on anyways. So I got to thinking well maybe they ask because they are performing some statistical analysis which the nerd in me can appreciate, or maybe they really do give you some fancy mug with some poetic verse written across the side. So this morning when I was asked, "For here or to go?" I answered, "I don't know, you tell me." I think my curiosity must have come across in an almost flirtatious manner because next thing I know the server is leaning over the bar whispering in my ear, "Always say to go...it will save you the tax." It was like a bizarre, seductive, serenading that went on this morning at The Coffee Bean in Brentwood, or maybe it is just the most action I have seen from a man in a while. Either way, always say TO GO. It will save you the tax!

The ID

When a male bartender IDs a woman do you think it's really because they want to know how old the chick they are serving is? Well of course it is! Think about it, male bartenders tend to be between the ages of 22-29, attractive, and SINGLE. If you're over 30 and you're still a bartender it's because you've failed in life. If you are not attractive and you're still a bartender it's because you are in some seedy bar and you've failed at bar tending; and if you are in a relationship and you are still a bartender then she is cheating and you've failed at a relationship. Thus, when a male bartender IDs the hott chick before him it's not to see if they are 21, it's just to simply see what they are working with. It's brilliant, due to the fact that it has become increasingly more difficult to determine a woman's age. Especially in the "cougar" filled city of Los Angeles where Botox and Lipo are done as frequently as your biannual dental cleanings; and where the daddy's girl of Beverly Hills runs around with a $500 fake ID, a boob job, and sass. So next time you get carded Ladies, don't flatter yourself. Unless you look like Miley Ray Cyrus, it's definitely not because they think you look younger than 21. It's because that 26 year old bartender wants to know if he's going back and rockin' the cradle, or if he's going back to your kid and actually rocking a cradle.

Best Friend Syndrome

Why is it that the term Best Friend has lost its meaning? A Best Friend is supposed to be singular because Best means the ultimate; it means that there can only be one. So why are people putting an "S" beind the word friend? However, you will meet these people who have 10 best friends...How? I think I have figured this mystery out and I call it best friend syndrome, and it comes in two fold. The first issue is the guy or the gal who becomes "best friends" with the person they are obsessing over. Why do we do it? Is it because we are merely settling for less and trying to find happiness in the fact that they are still apart of our lives? Or, is it because we are secretly hoping that one day we will be able to convince them otherwise and somehow manipulate them into being with us? Everyone is a victim of this at some point and to some degree, but why do we do it? Is it because we are psychotic...probably. Why would we ever want to constantly be around someone that we want as more than just a friend, but only act as their friend? It's bizarre, oxymoronic. It's social/romantic suicide. On the contrary why does the obsessed allow the obsessor to always be around. It's almost a masochistic thing we engage in. I believe that the obsessed allows the obsessor to fill that "best friend" slot for the moment in order to fulfill their own ego. Why not, you have someone that worships you and is at your beck and call, so why not abuse them? Makes sense... Healthy, right. What we should be doing is removing ourselves from them completely. It should be an all or nothing engagement, and if it's not all then move on. You have to; and honestly do you really need another "Best Friend?" The answer is: No You Do Not. Just be cordial but curt and move on.
The second fold is even more pathetic. The guy or the gal who cannot become best friends with the person they are obsessing over, so they now become best friends with their friends. OY VEY. There are specific situations where circles collided prior, where you were friends before the obsession, yada yada...I know there are extenuating circumstances. However, for the most part the next stalking step is to become "best friends" with their obsession's friends. Why do we do it? Is it because we think if we get their approval then our "beloved" will approve of us? Or, is it because we are trying to make them jealous and we think that this will provoke them? Who knows but we do it, and it really doesn't work.

Moral of the story is find a best friend, find one of them, and make sure that that person wants to be your best friend. This part is pretty important. But really, just don't be a fucking idiot.

The Ode to .99 cents store

That leads me into our .99 cent economic theory. Of course our economy if fucked up, we have things like.....99 cent stores. What was the point in leaving that one cent out. It's not like America is running out of one dollar bills. Every other country can't even break their currency into .99 cents. What are they gonna do bite off a piece of the dollar coin? Yet we somehow find that if we give our consumers smaller amounts to spend, and they can engage in the act of handing over a "bill" they will feel as though they have purchasing power. Bizarre. I am no longer puzzled as to why our economy has gone to shit.

Comment?Please

Elijah

I think next year I am going to send a stripper to my parents Seder and have her answer the door as Elijah...the prophet

The Feingold Family Values

Perhaps it is our father, the space cadet hippie that goes by the alias name "Frisbee;" but the Feingolds seem to find blogging to be a better source of therapy then the $1,500 an hour session with some bijoux therapist or the $60.00 a week we all know we spend on our pot fix.

Check out my brother's blog http://www.billyfeingold.wordpress.com

Cheers

Farfel Kugel

So there really is nothing wrong with Non-Jews (aka Goys) coming to a passover Seder. I honestly could give a shit, but what drives me insane is when they want to know "your" story. You know those stupid ignorant questions that they just ask to pretend like they care."Why do you eat a big saltine?" It's not a saltine... Let's get real they don't really care. Honestly, I don't even care. We all know you are just there for the food and the booze, and because you secretly wish you were Jewish. I can't say I blame you. It's like when I grew up in Dallas non-Jews would ask me,"So do you celebrate Thanksgiving?" Yes I celebrate Thanksgiving you fucking idiots it's an American Holiday.

So I went to this Seder last night, which was actually a beautiful Seder, but what is it with Jews and their need to out vocalize each other. I mean I know I'm probably the worst of them all, but whose brilliant idea was it to make group or congregational reading? It's like let's get a group of already loud aggressive Jews together and then try to get them to be even more obnoxious then they already are.

Then you have the Jewish girls who complain about not being able to eat bread and constantly talk about how they can't eat bread for 8 days. Come on girls, we know most of you don't even eat bread anyways; and FYI it's not a NO CARB holiday so stop using this as a forum to pretend like you eat whatever you want yet are still a size zero. For those of you who really can eat whatever you want and still look like a mannequin...Mazel Tov because mannequins are fucking hott.

Pussy Febreeze

I would love if there was a product called Pussy Febreeze and I could have an ad for it on the side of my blog. They would sell it in CVS right next to the KY. Blue light special isle 5 PUSSY FEBREEZE

A Duck's Opinion of you is based soley..

On whether or not you have bread. Interesting right. A duck does not care who the fuck you are. They just want to know whether or not you have bread. So Figure out what a guy/girl is wanting and get it for them, or leave him/her the fuck alone. For example my opinion of you is based solely on whether or not you are funny. So if you are tool or just annoying..I'm just not going to like you. Just like the duck...if you don't have bread it does not give a fuck.

The Ejaculation Rationale Theory

So some may say that there is this chemical reaction that takes place in a woman's body when she has sex with someone for the first time. I tend to disagree. Actually I completely disagree. Women are completely and totally chemically imbalanced as it is anyways. I think the real explanation for the "Stage 5 clinger" is what I call "The Ejaculation Rationale Theory."

It goes as follows: When a guy likes a girl, they JUST want to sleep with her, period end of story. It is as simple as that. If you think otherwise then you're foolishly mistaken, and you my dear are the reason why men think women are crazy. So just stop, wake-up, and GET WITH THE PROGRAM because you are fucking all of us! So back to my point. When a guy likes a girl he is going to do anything and everything in his power to have sex with her, and most of the time he is not going to stop until he does. It's that "animal instinct" in them...or whatever the fuck you want to call it. The guy is going to say whatever, do whatever, and act however he has to. The desperate girl is going to just go home with the guy the second he shows her any attention. Guys you better hope that she is blackout because otherwise you are going to be dealing with a nut job. Any girl that sleeps with a guy right after meeting him (again unless totally blackout) is desperate and going to stalk you, so get ready. The other girl is going to play the whole "I'm not going to sleep him right away and make him work for it" game.So the theory continues. Before the first ejaculation most women are "rational" they won't sleep with the guy because they know that he just wants sex. They know that the shit he is saying is bull shit and he really probably does not even know what he is saying. The guy on the other hand just wants to sleep with the girl. So he texts her, and feeds her all the bull shit to get her in bed. So it's now 2 weeks later and the girl decides to sleep with him because its not 1940 and we aren't Morman.So unless you're Amish or have aids or something welcome to the wonderful world of sex. She's so happy she waited...right. Intercourse takes place and upon ejaculation bada bing bada boom roles reverse. The irrational guy who was saying things he definitely did not mean and the rational girl who was holding out until he was "worthy" of sex have now switched spots within a matter of seconds. The girl is now completely and totally irrational. "Oh I'm so glad I waited now he respects me and this is going to be great. We are in love." The guy on the other hand is rational, "Why the fuck did that take so long. Finally, she was beginning to drive me nuts. She better not expect to cuddle," etc.

Biggest lesson learned: The guy is not going after you per se they are going after the chase, the unattainable. Ladies if a guy likes you he WILL LET YOU KNOW. Please please stop with the whole, "well he said he was going to call me but he got really busy, and then he had to cancel because he napped too long and his phone went dead while he was napping. However, I was the first person he said hi to when he walked in tonight so he MUST still like me." Oh and please stop showing up places where they are. Trust me they know why you are there and you just look ridiculous. Same goes for guys, but men look even more pathetic. At least we know women are nuts. Moral of the story or theory is don't be an idiot.

MY FIRST POST

I am using this blog as a forum for my own personal discussion. Some may call it a diary, but I'll just call it verbal diarrhea. The posts, while they probably won't have any significant meaning (at all), they certainly will be enlightening and mildly entertaining. Why do I call my blog the smorgasbord you might ask. Easy, because it's is simply one of the greatest words in our English dictionary. Actually, I'm not even sure if it is in the dictionary, but it does best describe the unorganized, chaotic, and somewhat psychotic mind of Leah Feingold. Either way if you do happen to stumble across my blog let me know what you think.