Archive for May, 2011

24
May
11

Jen Verrillo- Sex Detective

Penis Photo Hunt

I know that it probably seems like I talk about penises a lot, but they seem to keep rearing their ugly heads. No pun intended. Ok… maybe the pun was intended. Personally, I think they’re fairly funny looking, but it certainly amuses me when someone thinks I want to see a picture of one. It’s always at really weird times too. Once, I received a ‘Happy Mother’s Day’ text at 10 am, immediately followed by a junk shot. Not exactly what one would expect.

I think my problem might be that I’m far too analytical. I have a ridiculous eye for detail, which doesn’t lend itself well to soft core, homemade porn sent via I-Phone. For instance, a former boyfriend sent me a picture of his unit one Sunday afternoon with a racy message. Right off the bat, I thought that the lighting looked off. The penis shaped shadow on the wall didn’t make sense for high noon. Also, it was pretty nice out, and I found it odd that he was wearing wool socks and flannel boxers. My gut told me to request a follow-up photo. He obliged within minutes. A-ha! Just as I’d anticipated, he was using stock self-porn! In the second one, he was wearing jeans and some asinine looking Crocs. There was a Gatorade on the dresser that hadn’t been there before. Bastard! I must have played this bizarre version of Penis Photo Hunt for a good 20 minutes.

When I asked when the photos were taken, he insisted that both were real time. Seriously? The nerve of this guy to insult my intelligence! He was recycling images he’d obviously sent to other women and didn’t have the balls to fess up when called out. I quizzed him on the probability of snapping a photo, changing outfits and shoes and running to the fridge for a grape Gatorade before taking another… all within two minutes. I insisted that the next time he thought to send me a dick pic, It had better be slapped down smack in the middle of the current day’s Plain Dealer Metro section. He became extremely agitated and inquired as to why I’m such a bitch. What? How am I the asshole in this scenario?

I’ll admit I sent him a few pictures while we were together. They just weren’t of me. He’d always ask for nudie shots, so I’d pull one off the internet. He never specified they should be photos of me. That’s clearly his fault. I can hardly be expected to interrupt my busy evening of drinking $3.00 wine straight from the bottle to get my ass off the couch for a make-shift photo shoot. The nerve of some people! I’m sure it’s just a matter of time before he has a few too many cocktails and fires off another cock shot. I’m sure he’s learned nothing and there will be a Christmas tree or some other tell- tale sign of his deception lurking in the background. The suspense is killing me.

08
May
11

Where the hell did that baby come from?

Here’s the deal… I actually know someone personally who accidentally had a baby. I’m not talking about accidentally getting pregnant. Nope. This broad gave birth to a full-term infant without having a clue she was preggers. How is this possible, you ask? Hell if I know. I was approximately six minutes pregnant, and I had already figured it out. I’ve had a difficult time wrapping my brain around the concept of having a human chilling in your womb for nine months without realizing this tenant is there.

My daughter kicked the shit out of internal organs that I’m fairly confident are important. Getting karate kicked repeatedly in the small intestine is a lot different than the feeling one gets after too many chalupas from Taco Bell. I’ve never seen what appears to be a foot or an elbow jutting out of my abdomen after a trip to Hometown Buffet. I was as complete Pregnasaurus, wreaking havoc any chance I got. It’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard to be oblivious to someone living in your body.

The story goes a little something like this: Prego is home alone one night when her stomach starts to feel a little off. Evidently, she feels like there’s a turd of majestic proportions brewing. I don’t know what kind of digestive system you need to have when labor pain simulates your typical Sunday night poop patterns. Who knows? Maybe it’s normal for a small hand to protrude out of her treasure trove during doo-doo time. This chick obviously gets down on all fours, naked on her living room floor and yanks a child out of her cave. She calls 911 and walks around naked, carrying the baby with the umbilical cord still attached until help arrives. When I heard this, I couldn’t help visualizing a Grace Jones type of scene, where she roars and screams “afterbirth” while stomping around like a crazed monster-woman type of creature.

Prego is a Facebook friend of mine, so imagine my shock when her posts took such a dramatic turn. One minute she was discussing Halloween costume options and the next she’s talking about her son. WTF? She works at a daycare center, so I briefly wondered to myself if she’d just decided to snatch a kid one day. The baby ended up being the guest of honor at his own shower. So much for any of those dreadful games where you guess the date and time of the birth, etc. I’ll admit that I briefly took her out of my Facebook contacts because reading about all of this made me fear that I’d suddenly turn stupid just for being a part of it at all. I don’t know if ‘dumb’ is contagious, but I’m not willing to take any chances. Maybe that’s not fair, but there’s no way you can convince me that any normal woman could go through an entire pregnancy without a hint or two that something’s amiss. Nobody’s boobs grow three sizes for no good reason.




About the Broad

A humorous look at dating in your mid-thirties and the other hilarious things that happen around us on a daily basis.

 

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