Since I keep seeing girl-on-girl hate crimes being committed, spanning from elementary school to adulthood, I feel compelled to put my pen down and write a “Girl Code Amendment” — kinda like the Constitution of Female Behavior that should be considered law.
Repeat after me.
Thou shall not call another girl ugly, fat or insult her outfit without looking in the mirror first. Don't hate, congratulate (especially if that's how you expect to be treated in return).
Thou shall not take your insecurities out on another girl by bullying and trying to make her feel insecure.
Thou shall not be a homewrecker.
Thou shall never knowingly be the “side chick” — or ever settle for being as such.
Thou shall not flirt with a guy another friend has dated or truly cared about. Including but not limited to texting, Facebooking, tweeting and/or calling.
Thou shall not try to sabotage another woman’s relationship or reputation by spreading rumors and being a vixen.
Thou shall realize the power of the vagina and not give it up too easily.
Thou shall not let another woman leave the ladies room with toilet paper stuck to her shoe, and will be honest about whether that dress makes her look fat or not.
Thou shall never impede on a man’s responsibility as a father and his duties to the mother of his child.
Thou shall respect your girlfriend’s trust and keep secrets, not borrow clothes without asking, nor talk behind their backs.
Thou shall celebrate a girlfriend’s success rather than belittle it and hate on her about it. Because haters are just people who need love.
Chicks before dicks!
Consider this an official document in written law. Now put your John Hancock on it like the Declaration of Independence. But this is the Declaration of End-Dependence. The No. 1 rule of girl code is to never depend on a man to make us happy and whole. Our happiness is our own responsibility.
Well, I am signing a contract. Same thing, right?
The ol’ ball and chain being Charlotte … You’re stuck with me, for the next three years, at least.
Apparently I have a face for radio, considering I was given the morning show slot on KISS 95.1 with Otis. As in Ace & TJ’s old time slot.
First order of business: speech therapy. Second order of business: Learn how to quickly fill some big shoes with my little ass feet. Third order of business: Go buy five more alarm clocks.
I was just sitting behind my computer writing my column, and then Otis shoved a microphone in my face, and before I know it, we're being offered our own morning show. And just like that, my whole life game plan changed.
I have always said that my motive for being an artist is to have a voice, so that I may use it for good. I got what I always wanted I guess. I just never imagined it would manifest in a literal sense, in a career in radio. So I am signing on the dotted line like a woman who just turned 30, ready to settle down.
Please bear with me as I figure out how to transcribe this blog to the spoken word. Like speaking in tweets, 140 characters or less. And without the luxury of editing and having a filter. I have already lost approximately $17 to Otis for saying the S or F words in conversation off the record.
She got it from her mama, and I meanwhile, got it from my daddy ... the random, unfiltered shit I say, that is.
While I was in town for the wedding in which I was nearly arrested for pedophilia (not really) after "catching" the bouquet and a 5-year-old caught the garter, I did some bonding time with my old man. As in my dad, not one of my older boyfriends. And here are some of the things he said — Sh!t My Dad Says (I wish I thought to start a Twitter page and then have a book based off it, and then a TV show — but I'm not that smart):
While walking through Costco:
"Why is it when black guys walk by you, they say, 'God bless your daddy?' I'm not sneezing ... and I sure as hell didn't give you that big butt."
"Brittney, wake up! I know you're tired and hungover, but I have bad news for you — J-Lo and Mark Anthony are getting divorced."
"You lived with some hot football player and then went on a book tour with that dude famous for being an asshole. Maybe that's why you're single. You know you're not screwing 'em, I know you're not screwing 'em, but people can put the ass in assumption. Screw 'em."
After seeing an ad on TV for the new show Cyberbully:
"Cyberbullying? Who the hell cares? Just turn off your computer and be done with those shit heads."
"I don't know know what all this hoopla is about you and your sister's birthdays. All you did was be born, your mom deserves all the credit."
My phone vibrates loudly at midnight from a junk e-mail from Harris Teeter Vic card rewards I signed up for to get $10 off my groceries a week.
"Who the hell is calling you at midnight? ... a grocery store? You came up with better lies than that when you were a teenager."
And that is why I will always be daddy's little girl — that's where I derive all my relationship advice.
My friends and I keep a quote book to document the funny things we say, and the random shit that comes out of my unfiltered mouth. So here's a glimpse into my private quote book in regards to my conversations about mating and dating, and another installment of Sh!t Brittney says:
On the surprising Daytona NASCAR wins: "The Daytona race is as unpredictable as my period."
Dating advice to my 15-year-old nephew: "Try not to date girls who are dramatic on Facebook and don't keep their vagina in their dress. And keep your penis in your pocket until you're in a serious relationship. Nice talk."
"Screw the cow and the free milk — I'm lactose intolerant, more like, why buy the bull when you can get the shit for free?"
Friend: "Brittney lives on BST: Brittney Standard Time. She is going to be late to her own wedding."
Me: "That is if I even show up. I may even wear tennis shoes under my dress."
And, on doing laundry: "Separating whites and colors ... it just feels kinda racist."
You can witness my random ramblings first hand, live at The Comedy Zone that just opened in the NC Music Factory as I'm opening up for Jon Reep Wednesday, July 13 and Thursday, July 14. Come and laugh at my jokes, please, so someone will. If all else fails, you can laugh at me. Buy tickets here.
I don't know what is more rare ... a faithful man or a unicorn.
I say this because, aside from my own personal observations, I've been hearing one too many stories as of late of my girlfriends finding evidence of infidelity within their boyfriend's various communication devices. And I keep seeing women getting divorced because their husbands had an affair with the 25-year-old receptionist when he hit his mid-life crisis, like in a cliched movie. Is the young secretary the new red sports car?
And in being one of the guys, I sometimes see things I wish I didn't. Such as the correlation between a woman's attention and a man's ego. One time I watched a client I worked with go from boasting about his wife and kids to me, to kissing on some other woman's neck not even thirty minutes later, who wasn't his wife. I'm kinda losing hope over here.
So I sent a tweet: I can't decide what is more rare ... a faithful man, or a unicorn.
I got all kinds of responses:
Both are always 'horn'-y, A faithful unicorn.... 2 out of the 3 unicorns I've date have cheated on me. With eachother, no less... very harrowing experience, Both live in a far away land!
And then I got this: @KimiR_NASCAR: @BrittneyCason it's not that rare, it's just you're a "on the side" kind of chick. Seriously.
The following exchange took place between me and a strapping young lad one night at Red Rocks in Birkdale. Emphasis on the word "young."
Dude: "You should let me take you out to eat."
This which he says, not asks, as I'm in the process of eating at a table full of my girlfriends.
His cock-blocking friend: "He's only 22!" (shouted from across the bar)
Me: "crunch. crunch. crunch." (I finish chewing my food to at least be polite enough to not talk with my mouth full.) "As much as I enjoy eating, I'm sorry, I can't go out with you. You're only 22. That's like ... 15 in guy years. And that's illegal."
One of my girlfriends burst out laughing and proceeded to spit her drink out all over the table (and my plate). I should have taken him up on that meal, right then and there. Meanwhile, another girlfriend tweeted my quote with the hashtag #sh!tbrittneysays.
... What? At least I'm not saying men are like dogs by making them age up. Women just mature faster than men, and therefore age faster as well. Sucks for us.
I really would feel kind of like a pedophile to date a guy barely legal to hang out with me. I didn't even go to frat parties when I was in college, let alone now.
Or maybe it was just the way the guy handled himself like a rookie — interrupting a girls' dinner to tell me he'd like to take me to do what I was in the process of doing while he interrupted me. Even last year's Panthers' offense had better game. I'm pretty sure his boys just double-dog dared him to come talk to the cougar. I am cougar, hear me roar!
But the best part of this whole story is Michael Waltrip's tweet in response to it ...
(Re-Tweeting) @mw55 Does that make me low 30s ish?..RT @BrittneyCason: I can't go out with you, you're only 22. That's like..15 in guy years. And that's illegal!
... I guess it does. Lucky dog.
Most young girls dreams of their wedding day. And right now they're all dreaming of Kate Middleton's, for the fairytale royal wedding is coming up April 29. "What will the future princess wear?" is the big pressing question, and vendors are capitalizing on royal wedding "collectibles" from stamps to dolls — there's even a royal wedding refrigerator ... why?!
I hope they run the commercials for these products during episodes of Hoarders, because I can't think of any other market for such collectible crap.
Call me crazy (which you have every right to do) but I never had those childhood fantasies of my wedding day. Here's what I imagine my wedding day to be:
ME: "Hey baby what do you want to do today, since we both have the day off."
HIM: "Wanna go to courthouse and get married?"
ME: "Sure, can we go to Chick-Fil-A after?"
... and they lived happily ever after
I went to get a facial at Lighten Up and Face It. When the therapist got to massaging my cheek area, she paused her hands and exclaimed, “Goodness gracious girl, you have knots in your cheeks.”
Like muscle knots you get in your neck, in my cheeks.
She dug around on my face a little bit more and came to a good conclusion. “You must grind your teeth or clinch your jaw. People tend to do this when they hold in something they need to say.”
Is this a therapy session or a facial?
"Ask your dentist to check you for TMJ. You might have developed that by clinching your jaw so much."
TMJ? What the hell is that?
That night over dinner I told my girlfriends about my new disease — TMJ, asking for insight and for someone to define the acronym for me.
They told me that it meant “Too Much Jizz”
They then proceeded to tell me that you get it when you give head too much. And then accused me of being a closet head case.
"That's why you have dimples ... to store nuts in."
That’s not true of course — it’s TMJ, not TMZ.
By the way, TMJ stands for Temporomandibular Joint (TMJ) Syndrome.
I had the most horrible thought the other day.
I was walking through Freedom Park (OK, I was actually rollerblading through the park — don’t judge me) when I saw a little girl running around playing. The thought crossed my mind: That little girl could end up dating my future ex-husband one day. Assuming I marry someone my own age.
Think about it …
The last guy I was into was in his forties. I was 13 when he was my age. I wasn’t even born when he started having sex.
It’s disgusting really … if a woman dates a younger guy, then she’s a cougar or just an old maid. But when a guy does it, he’s "the man." But it’s actually kind of perverted if you think about it. I mean, this girl is like 7 years old and could, feasibly, end up dating one of my guy friends now.
Meanwhile, my fetish for older men is partaking in this problem. I would never be a homewrecker by any means, but by dating older men, I am taking them off the market for single women their own age. Are there not enough men to go around? Or do women have to share them?
I know why I date older men … I’ll spare you my psychobabble "It’s a supplemental father figure" speech. But every woman needs that in her life, and she is going to get it somehow. So, perhaps some of these guys should stop dating girls young enough to be their daughters, and start being better fathers.
I just never really thought about how it hurts the moms out there, until a cougar roared at me about it. She might not have been as violent as the girls who jumped me in high school for a different form of dating discrimination, but she made her point.
I don’t discriminate. I am an equal opportunity dater, but I also don’t want to discriminate against my own kind … women.
Newsflash: We all get older. If a man leaves a woman for getting older in order to date younger women, that’s just a sign that he hasn’t grown up and needs someone on his maturity level. And that his daughter shouldn't bring her friends over to his house.
But who cares if we grow old … isn’t that the point of sharing your life with someone, to have someone to grow old with?
I have a new-found empathy for bridezillas.
You spend all this money, time and effort into planning the perfect party. You coordinate it like a production, buy a new dress, and even put on fake eyelashes ... and then something goes wrong and your expectations became disappointments. You can’t help but get pissed — and being the center of attention makes it hard to disguise the fact that you are.
Well, my 30th birthday party was like my wedding … and got to be so big it felt like it was, with the pressure of turning 30 bearing down on me like cold feet. I had 90 people joining me to the Bobcats game, and then we took a party bus from the arena to Butter, where I spent a week trying to coordinate everything from decorations and deliveries of party rentals.
My phone blew up the entire dinner from all the people from the game calling and texting asking me where Front Court is — or that they’re running late and to leave their tickets at Will Call versus meet up with me before.
I spent my entire night making sure everyone else was having fun — and then realized, I wasn’t.
Don Lennon captures the DMB phenomenon perfectly in his album "Downtown". There are two tracks…
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