I love it when Betty uses a stupid excuse to go surfing at her favorite warm water break, 9 hours away from home.    She’s so convincing her reasoning almost makes sense.  It must be nice to be single, childless and carefree.

“Darn, I left my sunnies in Man Diego at my sister’s house,” texts Betty.

“We’re going next month, you can get them then,” I text.

“No I really neeeeeeeed my sunglasses, now,”  texts Betty.

“Don’t you have another pair you can wear for a month?” I text.

“None, that I like,” texts Betty.  “I’m gonna go get ‘em at the end of the week.”

“Can’t your sister fed ex them to you?” I text.

“Too expensive,” texts Betty.

“Betty, the gas one way, will cost more than shipping your sunglasses home,” I text.

But I could tell Betty was not listening to me or the voice of reason.

“Plus, I can go surf  Black’s Beach while I’m there,” Betty texted.  “There’s gonna be a south swell, warm weather, and there will be a lot of cute guys on the beach in board shorts.”

Tweet This Post 

I love it when there’s waves to surf.  But when there isn’t,  Betty and I always find something else to do, like play tennis.

We’re pretty much at the same skill level, so it’s great exercise and challenging.  There’s  only one problem playing tennis with Betty,  she tends  to attract a crowd.  And it isn’t  just because she wears her ghetto, white booty shorts, though I’m sure those don’t help.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!” moans Betty as she serves.

“Oooooooooooooooooooooo!” groans Betty as she returns a volley.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” exclaims Betty, running up to the net.

“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” grunts Betty, as she runs back to return a lob.

Seriously, with all that racket, I’m surprised she doesn’t distract herself.

Tweet This Post 

I love it when Betty meets a new guy.  The opposite sex is intriguing and mysterious. I’m glad it’s her trying to figure it all out, and not me.  But I like to help out when I can.

“I saw Surfer Joe again,” texts Betty.   “He had a little dog with him.   It’s probably his girlfriend’s dog.”

Betty was into Surfer Joe and I could tell by her text she was disappointed.

“Betty we don’t live in the dark ages anymore,” I text.  “Haven’t you heard of Men’s Lib?  Straight single males can have feelings,  a feminine side,  little dogs, admit other guys are in good shape (only to their girlfriends),  wear skinny jeans with appliques on their back pockets, and carry guyliner in their murses.”

Tweet This Post 

I love it when Betty travels to new places.  She always meets lots of new, fun people.

“Oh my goodness!” texts Betty.  “There are so many cute guys hitting on me at the bar!”

“Really?” I text. “Like how many guys?”

“6 or 7, I’m not sure,” texts Betty.  “There’s so many guys,  I lost count.  I must look really hot tonight!”

“Wow, that is a lot,” I text.  “Are there any other girls in the bar?”

“No, just me and my sister,” texts Betty.

“Well, you are in Man Diego the odds are stacked in your favor 7 to 1.“

Tweet This Post 

I love it when I’m watching porn advertisements disguised as car commercials.

“Test drive the all new dodge penis with ego boost engine today,” says the TV announcer.  “The all new dodge penis, has the thirst of a V6 and the thrust (driver puts hand on his stick, pause pause pause) of a V8.”

“The TV announcer moans on, “Drive one, two, or three today.

Note to test driver: Remember to take your Viagra because you’re gonna go all night

With commercials like these, who needs TV shows.

Tweet This Post 

I love it when Betty and I get to the beach just in time to claim the last available trash can. Back in the day, a surfer didn’t have to lock  her bike at the beach,  but sadly, times have changed.

Once a trash can is claimed, other surfers usually stay away.  Fortunately, there are other trash cans on the beach for surfers to throw away their beer cans, broken leashes, under wear, condoms and cigarette butts.

One day, however,  as Betty and I were changing out of our wetsuits, our trash can seemed to be the only one on the beach.

First, two guys walked up to our trash can, threw away their butts, and walked away.

“Is this the only trash can on the beach?” I ask, but they walked away laughing.

Then, a third  guy, walked up to our trash can, and stood right behind Betty, who was, by now, clad only in her bikini. I didn’t see any trash in his hands.

“Betty do you know this guy?” I ask.

“No,” says Betty, feeling a little strange, with Mr No Trash, breathing down her bare back.

“I don’t see any trash in your hands,” I say to Mr No Trash.

“You’re not looking in the right place,” says Mr No Trash, with a smirk.

Then he pulls a beer out of his wetsuit, polishes it off , throws the empty bottle in the trash, and walks away.

“That was weird,” I say.

“Yeah,” says Betty.  “I was wondering what that bulge was in his wetsuit, too bad it was just a beer……………”

Tweet This Post 

I love it when Betty goes out on a date. I can hardly wait until the next day to get all the details.  Let’s just say Betty loves to kiss and tell.

“So what did you do after dinner?” I ask.

“We played Ping Pong,” says Betty.

“You played with his ding dong?” I say spitting out my orange juice.

“No we played Ping Pong,” says Betty laughing.

“Oh bad reception I guess,” I say. “Ping Pong that’s not very sexy or romantic.”

“Oh, butt Strip Ping Pong is so hot!” says Betty.

“Betty you’ll just use any excuse to get naked, even Ping Pong,” I say. “Oh well, at least you’re dedicated to something, which is a lot more than most people can say.”

Tweet This Post 

I love it when I help Betty play the dating game, even though I no longer play the field.  Once a playa always a playa.

“So did he pay for dinner?” I ask.

“He tried, but I wouldn’t let him,” says Betty.

“What, Betty, you have to let the guy wine and dine you, and open your car door,” I say.

“No way!” says Betty.  “If I let him buy me dinner, then I have to return the favor by having sex with him.”

“What?” I ask.  “Betty, are you a prostitute now?  You’ve been watching Pretty Woman, again, haven’t you?”

Tweet This Post 

“Um, babe, thanks for shaving my ass, again.” says Boyfriend.  ”But my bum always gets dry and irritated after a shave.  Could you rub some lotion on my bottom?”

“You should consider laser hair removal for more permanent, long lasting results,” suggests Girlfriend.   “Or this relationship isn’t going to last much longer.”

Tweet This Post 

Tired sex, is what we have if we wait until both kids fall asleep. 

“Let’s not wait until the kids are asleep to have sex today,” I suggest to my Husband.  “Put on a movie, at the other end of the house, so we can have some fun, lively sex.”

“Okay!” says Husband excitedly.

Tired, exhausted, worn out sex is good, but after a while it gets soft and dry. 

Tweet This Post