Today’s blog is one of particular quandary and response to it will be vital for my field research.  I place mass responsibility on my three F’s, to help me with this problem I face this very day.  The three F’s are my friends, family and fans, for those to you who aren’t up to speed with contemporary lingo.  Actually I just made it up, but I rest assured you people have the ingenuity to figure it out on your own.  I often joke around about stalkers, mainly because I like to pretend that us sexy vixens have so many of them, but this time I’m serious.

It all began about a year ago when I had an inkling for some mint chocolate chip ice cream, half-churned and 1/3 the fat….made by Dreyers.  It was late of course, when all my natural cravings like to sprout about like the ravenous beasts that they are.  I drive myself two blocks to a store that rhymes with Lafeway and procure my treat.  One thing stood out to me during my excursion to this namesake….the clerk who rang me up.

I’m not one of those morons who can’t pick up on commonsense things like compliments, stares and glares, vibes and moods.  I’m as vigilant as a hawk when the sun sets.  I’m a natural-born observer, which makes me as bad ass as I am.  This clerk man was new and I would be the one to know since I frequent this store three times a week for the last three years.  He was oddly nice to me, saying things like “I like your outfit, you look nice,” and “can I help you out to your car with this?”  The problem with these complements/offers was that I was wearing a man’s double X t-shirt stained with mustard from the corndog I had eaten for dinner and the only bag I had to carry to my car was one….with my ice cream in it.  “No, I’m good,” was my response.  As far as this creep is concerned “No, I’m good” would turn out to be a phrase I have now coined.

‘Hmmm…a little strange,’ I thought, brushing my shoulders off.  ‘I’ll keep an eye on that one.’  Now, over the course of the last year, and I am not embellishing like when I say things like I weigh 120lbs or I don’t ever fib, this clerk creep has followed me around Lafeway every single time I am there.  Here are some examples for those of my three F’s who are taking notes and analyzing this freak.  A few weeks ago I was walking into the store while he was walking out and halfway through the parking lot making a B line for the carts in that thing that houses them.  As soon as he saw me get out of my whip, he immediately and so obviously turned right back around from his chore and followed me in, hustling a little bit behind me to ‘catch up.’  Then he proceeded to follow closely behind me, checking prices with his little gun.  As I reach for some wheat thins, slightly behind a display making a small, but minor roadblock for me, he says “do you need help getting those?”  Alerted and annoyed I respond with a, “no, I’m good.” 

On several occasions, and by several I am speaking of at least 15 times, he has seen me in line of another clerk’s and yelled to me across other customers “I can help you here Miss!” And yes, he was talking to me.  Is this happening right now?  “No, I’m good.”  At this point in time I’ve sort of turned into a raging bitch, but in my defense I can’t even help it.  My theory is that the ruder I am to him, the less he’ll stalk me.  Clearly, this approach is not working, as he still gives me the heeby jeebies.  I no longer make eye contact with him and no longer engage in even the simplest of small talk.  I’m sorry if that’s rude, but it is my natural reaction to dismiss his advances and refrain from interaction to the maximum degree.  That’s how I roll.

What you have heard is just the beginning of a long list of weirdo things this clerk does.  For instance, every single time he manipulates me into using his line at check out time, he gives me my receipt in such a way that he always, always tries to touch my hand.  It is so repulsive and reinforcing at this point that I am contemplating driving 15 miles out of my way to grocery shop.  I live in a small town and there is no other Lafeway nearby, let alone a Sinco or Fithtway.  I am shit out of luck, so I have to deal with sicko and his sicko tendencies that, to me, are definitely borderline Lifetime movie material.

Creepy clerk also likes to ask me a lot of questions.  I’m not sure what frightens me more, the fact that I reply with the least amount of words as humanly possible to his questions with no eye contact which to any person is certainly pretty rude, or that he doesn’t care that I do that and keeps on at his pursuit.  Now, when I enter this Lafeway, the first thing I do is a routine eye scan, monitoring the room.  Like an even more skilled hawk then me, this guy seems to know when I enter this establishment.  He walks behind me at any chance he has and when I look for which line he is working in, I can see him already looking in my direction.  I never ever go in his line and I often reject his offer to ring me up.  “No, I’m good.”

My most poignant concern is that he’ll follow me home one day.  I live literally walking distance and who knows where creepy clerk lives.  I cease to use my own Lafeway card, so I use my aunt’s because I fear he can look up my information on the Lafeway headquarters computer, thereby discovering where my abode is.  To some, this may all seem harmless, but I assure you, it is anything but.  He is alarmingly creepy and it is with my sincere hopes that he graduates from community college and trails the corporate office route for Lafeway.  In a perfect world, we should all be allotted the convenience of convenience shopping with little no fear for our safety.

I look forward to your responses and if anyone would like to experience a thrill ride, I usually do my shopping on Mondays, so you could just come with me…push my cart or something.  My e-mail is ms.annieh@yahoo.com so please send your input that way.  I wish you all a wonderful day and when in doubt, “no, I’m good,” is a perfect response to any freak annoying the shit out of you.  This is Annie McVixen, and I say: listen, learn and do!

Today’s Topic is:  Official Operations & Strategies of Defense          Friday, 2-26-2010

The Sexy Vixen Clan is so elite that special measures have to be taken in order to protect and secure each and every member on a daily basis.  One moon very long ago the Vice-President of this conglomeration wrote an esteemed document that has been long forgotten.  Now is the time for it to be unveiled once again and to be shared with all.

****Official Operations & Strategies of Defense***

This confidential document outlines descriptions of possible threats to our supreme society as well as strategic information pertaining to our policies of defense and security.  It is of the upmost importance that only the sweet sweet eyes of the SVC members see this document.  We can not afford for these articles to slip into the wrong hands, one can never be too cautious.

 *“Other Women”- Other women that could be considered a possible threat would have the attractiveness level of 10 or above.  Due to the fact that they would be creeping close to our attractiveness level (perhaps on an unattractive day) they hold potential to challenge progress that we have made with male specimens and in extreme situations they could snatch them from our grasp.  In a situation such as this we would only be able to rationalize the outcome by assuming that the male involved was either delusional or hallucinating.

* “Ugly Women”- Women who do not possess any sort of attractive qualities are at high risk to develop jealous tendencies.  We must be careful around such volatile creatures and recognize that they could lash out and inflict physical harm upon us at the drop of a hat.

* “Low-lives”- These particular individuals tend to be at the low end of the totem pole.  More often then not possessing such qualities as poorly maintained hair, less than average attractiveness levels that are commonly masked by asinine amounts of make-up, as well as flaunting larger than life body parts (aka tits and ass).  These bottom feeders will do anything at any cost to steal your potential prospect.  They’ll slut around, sleep around and scrounge around.  Be on your toes near these hizzies, they are known to have extremely high levels of aggression and typically engage in violent acts.

Defense Strategies:

 *If assaulted (verbally) then dig deep into that vast vocabulary that all vixens possess and insult and demean them, thereby defending your vixen honor.  Never under any circumstance shall a clan member compromise her superior status by stooping to levels that question her quick wit and class.

* If assaulted (physically) in a public arena turn the other cheek, not only will you save your outlandishly attractive features from potential deformities, but you will also maintain your status as a damsel in distress.  Men will flock to your rescue and possibly allow you to obtain up to two or three times the amount to phone numbers that you would have prior to this atrocity.

*If assaulted unexpectedly, we recommend using techniques such as swift strikes to the attacker’s trachea, chest or abdominal regions.  All will be affective and debilitating.  In extreme situations such methods as physical removal of earrings and other piercings may be advantageous to a successful outcome.

Protection of Honor:

As a member of the Sexy Vixen Clan there will be without a doubt at least one significant incident where you will have to defend your honor or that of one of your sexy counter parts.  Let it be known to all devious hoochies and douchebags that the SV’s will not tolerate any of the following acts and that we will retaliate with extreme force and without mercy.

* Rumors- Any stories or lies told about any members of the SVC that demean us or lower our colossal stock value.

* Slander- All outburst or acts of gossip that cause people to doubt the sexiness or integrity of our clan.

* Gossip- Any such allegations that would lead others to see us as less than outstanding citizens who happen to obtain a divine level of sexiness.

This long lost memorandum was discovered amidst all my paperwork from years and years ago.  What once was a contemporary piece of work is now a literary masterpiece.  So for all of you out there questioning the seriousness and integrity of this conglomeration (SVC) please note you are actually at risk of being on the receiving end of some ass whoopin’.  We defend this clan as we would a small baby bird, fallen from the nest above a Maple tree in my backyard two summers ago that I named Blue.  Thank you for always staying so true to the McVixen Blog, and until I get back from Winefest 2010 at the beach: listen, learn and do!

Guest Blog: Laura                                                                 Thursday, 2-25-2010

Vixens: 
I regret to inform you that Annie MicVixen has fallen ill.  She will not be able to participate in this daily blog we all anxiously await. 

Though I am proud to say that today she has asked that I stand in her shoes.  Duty calls, and here I come with the announcement of my up and coming book, Teaching Old Dogs New Tricks: Taming the Animal Within.  While this book isn’t intended for your sparkling eyes, it will bring each of you one bounding leap closer to wearing a sparkling rock on your flawlessly manicured ring finger.  

Please keep Annie in your thoughts and prayers today.  I will keep you updated on her condition.

While I have your attention, I would like to remind you of my impending birthday on Friday, March 12.  You can find my birthday registry at www.neimanmarcus .com 

 


xo, Laura




Gentleman: 

Welcome to the first day of your bright futures.  I would like to begin by thanking you for taking this and allowing me to shape you into the men we all know you can be.  Further, I would also like to congratulate and commend you for delving into this rigorous educational process of self-actualization, and personal growth.  Through this educational resource guide you will gain a wealth of information that will inevitably contribute to a more joyful and fruitful existence.  This program is one that is interactive in nature; through a series of quizzes, readings, exercises and exams you will gain the knowledge and experience to embark on a successful future with a Sexy Vixen. 

Step by step I will guide you through a series of courses and activities that will surely prepare you for those difficult and trying times that we all have in our personal and romantic lives.  The first and most critical stage of this process is to build a solid foundation on which to achieve these skills.   

Once your slate is clean you will begin to examine your faults in order to progress on to the lessons that follow. When your mind is clear and your heart is open you will begin to improve yourself in a multitude of ways; first through identifying your financial status and exploring ways to improve upon it, then by optimizing your body through physical fitness, in essence raising your stock value.   

At last graduation day is in plain sight, now it is time to learn how to meander peacefully with and court the rarest of Gods beautiful creations, the sexy vixens.  This final goal will be achieved through conquering lessons such as, “date planning 101”, “how to worship a sexy vixen”, and second to none “staying faithful and the benefits of doing so”. 

To encourage clear comprehension of the detailed information that will be covered through this 8 chapter guide I have devised an analogous system that will help you understand these complex topics.  Each lesson will be illustrated through analogies that will draw parallels between various wild animals and the important subject content.      

Without further ado let us begin our magical journey together… soon

Sneak peak - Chapter 2: A Guide to Wall Street  

“A rare as well as beautiful specimen, the jaguar is a near threatened species.  Not only is this majestic creature the only member of the family panthera to thrive in the America’s, it also far surpasses any other cat in size.  Let us carefully examine this next passage then attempt to understand the similarities between the jaguar and a financially successful human male:

Melanistic or black jaguars often confusingly labeled ‘Black Panthers’, a name which is also applied to black leopards.  In this melanistic form the cats are more difficult to separate, however the jaguars large head and stocky forelimbs are often a good way to differentiate between the two cats.

The jaguars head is described as large, which is typically consistent with the swollen ego of a successful man, do not confuse this statement as a complaint it is merely an observation” 

“A man of monetary success is a jack-of-all-trades, an entrepreneur if you will.  This rare and sought after treasure excels in a surplus of facets.  Similarly the Jaguar is a versatile creature, a climber hunting its primate prey in the trees of the Amazon, a swimmer exhausting large caiman from swampy wetlands, and finally at the days end being most active at nightfall (Stamina)” 

Please remember to sign the guestbook so we can keep you abreast of my book release, Teaching Old Dogs New Tricks: Taming The Animal Within, as well as other new products and upcoming events.

All My Love - Laura

Today’s Topic is:  The Golden Girls                                 “Hump Day” Wednesday, 2-24-2010

What a dreamy set up.  Sunny Florida, a pastel furnished household, 3 best friends and an old woman all living together in the 80’s.  This is the story of the Golden Girls: Rose, Blanch, Sofia and Dorothy.  Once an extremely popular sitcom is now a perfect source of reference to what I like to call ‘dating debacles’.

We start with Rose.  She is the sweet, ditzy and romantic hopeful of the bunch.  If she wasn’t 300 years old, she’d probably dawn blonde hair and a fake set of tits.  Her dating life is always in shambles and she constantly wonders if she’s doing something wrong.  Her insecurities play a significant role in her ‘single’ status, despite the dorky guys she dated.  I found myself rooting for her the most, mainly due to her innocent stature and mild disposition.  I felt as though her feelings were similar to that of freshly strewn chicken eggs.  While she had once been married in her earlier years, she remained intricately entangled in a love affair with sweets.  She battled from long bouts of estrangement issues, hence keeping her from finding love.  If I wasn’t 5 years old when this show aired,  I would have suggested she gone to therapy and tried to find the inner vixen I know exists somewhere in her frail shell of an existence.  It just goes to show that no matter how sweet, kind and generous you are with a man, it’s just never enough.

Next I have you the vixen of all vixens, Blanch.  This Southern speaking woman, clad with big hair, big boobs and a larger than life personality was the ultimate she-player.  Floating from one man to another, her dating life resembled a game of ping pong.  She had no problem with intimacy or showing her feelings, but lacked a filter.  Amongst the several problems she had with men, the most unambiguous drawbacks were her unreasonable expectations.  She figured once she lured a man into her bedroom that they’d fall passionately in love and her search would be over.  I know it was the 80’s, but her life experience beforehand should have afforded her the know-how that that just doesn’t occur in reality.  Blanch was resourceful and eventually decided to use her crash and burns to her advantage, using men for their money.  She used her sex appeal to acquire extravagant gifts, vacations and jewelry.  In a sense she ‘gave up’ on finding love, all the while secretly pining away for it.  Unhealthy, yet productive would be my diagnosis.  Blanch was the premier cougar.  If her quest was truly to find love, I would have suggested she pinpoint the most important qualities she admires in a man, find one who embodies them and hold out on the ass before she knows his class.

Little old woman Sofia.  She quite possibly had venom running through her collapsed veins.  Her three most admirable qualities were her spit-fire antics, her embellished sense of humor and hilarious lack of respect for Rose.  Although her dating life appeared bleak parallel to the younger, more vibrant ladies in the house, she knew what she was doing.  Once in contact with a man, she put him in their place and never quivered.  Hesitancy on a man’s part did not last long with Sofia.  She probably had a bumper sticker on her Hoover Chair that read “If you don’t like what you see, get the f*** out of my way.”  She had a no-bullshit mentality that seemed to suit her short stature and heavy wrinkles.  Perhaps men were entranced by the oddity of her ways, but they sure did hang around.  My only suggestions for Sofia would be to soften up a smidgen because no one likes to see thorns on a rose.  I bet behind doors this woman yearned for change, yet due to her impending extinction she felt complacent in the bed she had made.

The star of the show was Dorothy.  One could argue me that, but in return I’d have to say that they are dead wrong.  She was the eyes and ears of her fellow dumbass friends and senile mother Sofia.  Her dating life could be compared to a derailed train or an airplane with mechanical difficulties.  She had a manly disposition probably due to her strong build and deep voice, yet seemingly wanted to be with a man.  Her storyline featured her having a long-term marriage to this man who abandoned her years before.  One may question if this was a cover-up for her true lesbian identity, but Stanley was indeed real.  Before he comes back to avenge his mistakes, Dorothy dates many men.  Her relationships always tend to appear middle of the road.  They were never ‘wham-bam-thank you ma’am,’ but they also never amounted to anything substantial.  My take on this is that Dorothy never got over Stanley and therefore could never commit to anyone else.  Her issues run deep and strong, like ant tunnels under the velvety earth.  She spends the majority of her life fixing Blanch and Rose’s hot messes, soothing them like children after the heart ache of breakups and one night stands.  The only person who sees right through Dorothy’s rough exterior is her own mother Sofia, but it also takes one to know one.  If I had a one on one with the he-woman herself, I would suggest she focus more of her energy on releasing her fixation on this Stanley man.  She can’t possibly waste away her prime years for dating, her 70’s and 80’s, on this hallucination that her 86 year old estranged husband is going to change his ways.  I think it is safe to say that the ship has sailed away and her hopes and dreams for him are on board.

Oil and vinegar are these women.  What a dynamic group of pussycats for one television show.  The creators of this whirlwind conception are owed great thanks.  Many women in the 1980’s watched this show and I’m willing to bet almost anyone could identify with either Rose, Blanch, Dorothy or Sofia.  Each woman in her own right deserves praise and acclaim for portraying such real-life examples of contemporary vixens thrust upon the dating world with no armor or protection.  It goes to show that no matter what decade it is, dating ain’t no joke y’al.  With all the hindrances that are men and their disappointing and confusing ways, have no fear because Annie McVixen is here.  I have the answers and solutions you have been looking for.  Too bad I was only 5 years old when the Golden Girls needed me the most.  So go ahead and try to stump me but until next time poodles: listen, learn and do.

Today’s Topic is:  A Cease and Desist Order: Calling all cougars      Tuesday, 2-23-2010

Dear Cougars,

Let me start by saying, I hear your pain.  Your 20’s and 30’s are a thing of the past yet you are still lacking the missing piece of your life you failed to find in those years.  Some of you are divorcees and some of you are stubbornly and eternally single, but there is no reason for your flailing and surly attempts to stalk our younger men.  Granted, there are several different rhymes and reasons for your actions, but I guess what I am trying to say is: enough is enough.

Let’s face the marbles, you can’t really compete physically with most of us young gals.  I realize that there are a remote few Demi Moore’s out there and to that I take my hat off, but the reality is you are seducing our young suitors with your financial stability and generosity with your liquid assets in exchange for knockin’ some boots.  Clever, yes; sustainable, no.  Most of us SV’s (sexy vixens) are ready to stop fiddling around with whomever we choose and are now ready to begin the settling down process.  Mind you it is the same settling down process most of you didn’t achieve, therefore bestowing unto you your current status.  So really, you should be able to relate to that sensibility and recoil. 

Here is the central problem.  The men in our range who are ready to refrain from their old douchebags tendencies and focus solely on a relationship with us are bulldozed by your promises of extravagance with little to no effort on their part to receive it.  They are becoming accustomed to something gaudy and unrealistic.  I’m sure their mothers’ wouldn’t respect the fact that you are un-doing all the hard work they put in for the last 25 or 30 years trying to show their young sons how to work hard for what they want in life and reap the benefits of their commitments.  I know you are thinking something about all this, so I’ll go ahead and address it now.

It’s not any secret you’ve been holding hostility toward us young vixens for awhile now.  We see it in your mugs when your husbands, or should I say ex-husbands, cock their heads when we walk by your dinner table.  I don’t blame you for having frustrations with that, but your anger has been misdirected.  Blame shall be placed upon the causation at hand, which is not us for being supple and gorgeous, but your husbands who you have failed to ‘shape’ and henceforth control.  I know for some of you revenge is at hand, so you lure our young lads in with gifts of x-boxes and rent payments, but since you’re older you should be the wiser.  However, if that was so, it’d probably be you writing us a letter then wouldn’t it?

Back to my main point, you need to cease and desist.  I’m not a time traveler, so I cannot help you render null and void your past mistakes and attain a different fate.  And we are no longer in need of the men in your demographic, because now we want to settle down and procreate with men our own age for reasons stemming from survival of the fittest.  You should feel at liberty to date your men again and if you adjust the chips on your shoulders, they might just want you too.

Take a look at the big picture.  You may possibly be responsible for an unavoidable chain on events that will sooner or later affect you too.  Let me elaborate.  In the event you insist on spoiling these young lads with monetary glory, they will become slothful and unmotivated.  These chaps will teach their children who will teach their children and all of a sudden a vicious cycle of  ravenousness men will prevail thus curbing the list of potential suitor’s for your own daughter’s and grandchildren to select from.  Do you really want that fate for your familia?  I didn’t think so.

No one said the cycle of life would be easy.  God knows us vixens aren’t looking forward to being your age, although we rest assured our fates will not mirror yours.  We aren’t asking for much, all we ask is you cease to taint our men and desist from perpetuating a nasty cycle only you are capable of inducing.  You want to be the wiser?  Sure thing.  You can accomplish this by abstaining from your frightful behaviors we have been identifying lately with our future husbands and figure out something else for yourself.  If it’s ass you want, there are male escorts.  If it’s attention you crave, there are male strippers.  If it’s love and affection you desire, there are men your age or if that’s a no-go, vibrators.  But please, this is your last warning: Cease and Desist.

Sincerely,

All SV’s far and wide

ATTN:  It’s not like this was an easy advisement to write.  It’s not always a two-way street, but if someone had to write such a memorandum, I definitely understand that as the SVC President it’s my affair.  It’s not an easy job, but I take my duties seriously and somebody’s got to do it.  Dazed and confused and need some illumination?  Feel free to shoot me a ‘lil ditty.  Love always, Annie McVixen.

Today's Topic is:  Texting                                                         Tuesday, 2-23-2010

I am an avid text messenger.  I find texting allows for many freedoms.  You have options with this form of information delivery, in essence a lot of control.  There are many pros and cons about this mode of conveyance.  I will detail a few of each.

Relationships are hard work, everyone knows that.  But what some do not know is that through my sexy vixen knowledge, you can simplify almost anything.  So, when my friends come to me with situations of all shapes and sizes, I ask them one thing…“is what you are stressing over worth it?”

It’s pretty simple.  A lot of what I will relay to you has to do with picking your battles.  Nobody wants to date a hot mess drama queen so get your ass together!  I have you two primo examples of typical circumstances that can arise when dating and what I suggest you do about it.

I have a beautiful friend named “Susie.”  (I’ll leave her identity unknown)  She has been dating this guy for upwards of a few months.  They seem to be getting along great but recently she’s discovered that he is pulling away.  He has gotten comfortable with her over the course of those months and she feels like he’s stopped trying to impress her.  She constantly informs me that she wants to tell him to shape it up, but doesn’t want to nag him about it.  I ask her what I ask all my friends, “Is he worth it?”  She replied with a sigh and a “yeah, I think so.”  “BAM!” was my reply.  First and foremost, if you are unsure of continuing a relationship with someone at such an early stage in the walk, then you might as well kiss it goodbye.  On the other hand, if she feels as though there is great potential in him, I’d have to urge her to dig a little deeper.  Because she had a half-yes answer to my question and was agreeable to the fact that he has potential, I tell her this.  “Communication is key.”  We break it down for him.  She feels a little un-stimulated with their interactions which can later lead to more serious problems if left un-treated.  So I tell her to explain to him how she feels very specifically.  Then wait for a positive response.  If he reacts with either annoyance or accuses her of being a nag then he needs to peace out because communicating one’s standpoint should not make your partner annoyed.  He is not validating her feelings, so why bother with him?  She doesn’t want a neglectful man in her life anyway.  On the other hand, if he reacts positively with either an “I’ll work on it” or just imparts his feelings toward the situation thereby communicating in return, than I told her to wait around and watch for a change.  If a change is applied through bouts of effort on his part to make her feel more special to him than great, but if he manages to not step up his game with her than  a cease and desist order should be applied in a timely fashion.

Although it is not typical of me to speak from the other point of view (a man’s point of view), I do have a special case with one of my guy friends.  The other day I get a call from my boy “Peter.”  He just started dating this girl casually and really digs her.  He’s trying to play it cool with her, as to not jinx anything special that could potentially and gradually transpire between them.   He finds himself holding back things he wants to say to her in fear that it may sound too serious or sentimental.  He is starting to feel the weight of his secret feelings bearing down on him in an unhealthy manner.  As he was telling me this I told him to stop right there.  First, I tell him that whether or not she’s not allowing him to feel comfortable enough to tell her things or if it’s more of a personal insecurity on his part, omission of communication is dangerous and treacherous grounds.  It sets a bad tone for the whole relationship.  In Peter’s case, he happens to be a great communicator but for some reason this girl wasn’t making him feel at liberty to express his feelings.  I told him to shape up or ship out.  There is not enough time in life’s hourglass to withhold feelings that will only debilitate the growth of a relationship.  It’s not healthy for his psyche and it wastes both of their time.  I told him that I thought he was acting like a pussy and what’s the worst that can happen?  She’ll either A) think his strong feelings toward her are amazing and she’s just been waiting for him to open the flood gates or B) she may think he’s farther along then she is and might pull away.  If it is case A then awesome, a bright future awaits.  But if it is case B then it will initially suck.  I told him it was worth the risk because he deserves a girl who feels the same way about him.  Taking the leap into explicit openness with her is worth finding out the truth, that way he can move on and find someone clearly better than the stupid bozo he’s dealing with now.  After a couple chuckle sessions via my elaborate collection of blonde jokes and being a general ra-tard for him to lighten the mood, he decided to give her a ring.

You see, nowadays there isn’t a lot of time to waste.  If you want something, you need to go balls to the wall and figure out how to get it as simply as possible.  Unfortunately, some people won’t shape up, thereby their fate is to be shipped out.  At the end of the day, sailing isn’t all that of a bad thing because there are more boats waiting to be docked in your harbor!  Need some relationship advice?  Hit me with your best shot people (annie@sexyvixenclan.com).  Listen, learn and do! Hugs and kisses, Annie McVixen.

Today’s Topic is:  10 Things I bet you never knew about me         Wednesday, 2-17-2010

Amongst being multi-faceted, charming and adventurous, I am also surprisingly weird.  I’ve always professed I would rather be considered weird opposed to being normal and boring, so I’m willing to bet this list of the top 10 things people probably don’t know about me will confirm it.  Friends and family will recognize some of these things, so go ahead and take this opportunity to go down memory lane with me.  And away we go…

#1:  I ran away when I was 4.  Okay, let’s realize something here.  I am the youngest child of 3.  Not only that, but my brother and sister are 4 and 6 years older, with their gap only being a year.  Needless to say, I wasn’t given the rightful attention and accord I thought as a 4 year old I deserved. I took it upon myself to get that attention, so I grabbed my Cabbage Patch Kid and some cookies and decided to run away.  Considering I wasn’t allowed to cross the street by myself and was generally afraid of going outside for fear I would be abducted, I hid under my parent’s bed.  After about an hour of an eerily quiet house my family started to panic.  I had my parents, siblings and even neighbors looking far and wide for me.  It was my sibling’s job to check under all the beds in the house but because I had fallen into a deep, deep slumber under my parent’s bed they didn’t see or hear me.   My mom can still recall the intense panic that only a parent could understand.  I think I made my point.  Mission accomplished.

#2:  I was in 5^th grade and decided I needed a little publicity.  Going through my sister’s room on a daily basis I had found a 17 Magazine.  Flipping through it I came across a section about embarrassing moments.  I thought most of them were pretty lame.  The articles were comprised of stories that reader’s had sent in about their own lives that were mortifying to say the least.  I thought to myself, “I can top that.”  So my 10 year old ass that had never even liked a boy conjured this elaborate story about some high school prank gone wrong that included a football game, nudity and a loud speaker.  The details are a little vague, but I received a letter in the mail 2 or 3 weeks later informing me that I was going to be published.  They sent me a copy of the magazine and a t-shirt.  I thought I was the shit.

#3: When I was in 3^rd Grade someone had the bright idea of signing me up for cross guard.  Whether it was a teacher or my parents, I’ll never remember.   Cross Guard entailed me not only standing outside in the freezing cold of winter with some dumb ass flag, but it also included me getting up 1 hour earlier for school.  I wasn’t happy about this, so I came up with a plan to get fired.  I remembered a couple years before of hearing about this kid who got a mild case of frost bite.  Now, to a 3^rd grader who only knows that frost bite includes your extremities turning blue and falling off, I had secured a healthy fear of ending up with 9 fingers.  So on one particular morning, I came into class in tears because I was convinced I had a case of frost bite.  Then another morning I came to class in tears convinced I had a case of frost bite.  It seemed to teachers and to my parents that no amount of persuading could be done to show me that I certainly did not have frost bite and the chances of me getting it were slim to none. They sooner thought it a better idea to take me off cross guard.  I won.

#4:  My parents sold the house I grew up in when I was 13.  While my dad was building our new house out in Oregon City, my parents moved our family of 5 into an apartment building near my grade school and my sibling’s high school.  Well, let’s just say I didn’t have a lot of parental supervision during this year.  Both my parents were extremely busy getting ready for the new house so I had some time after school to myself.  One particular afternoon I was hanging outside with my friend Abby and some Mexican neighborhood kids.  This one kid, Fredrico decided he wanted some Burger King, so he hopped in this dad’s car and went to grab some grub.  You see the only problem I saw with this was that he was 12.  Apparently I didn’t have balls the size of Fred’s, but I thought if a 12 year old could drive then why couldn’t I?  I was a year older mind you.  I grabbed my dad’s keys to his Dodge Dakota, locked them into the ignition and prepared to reverse.  I guess your not suppose to slam on the gas, so what happened was that I smashed into a work van.  I ran inside, placed the keys back on the table and went to my room.  I never did get in trouble.  My parent’s decided my terror of the unexpected was punishment enough.

#5:  Back when I still lived in SE Portland, my parents were okay with me walking to the Plaid Pantry, the Drug Store and Starbucks.  Each of these businesses were within a 5 block radius.  One afternoon, my cousin Laura and I made our way to this little store called Rogers, next to the Drug Store.  This was the particular year that some kidnappings were taking place in the surrounding neighborhoods, so we were advised in school to keep an eye out for suspicious men duos, especially one’s driving blue trucks.  On our short trek to get some candy, we spotted this blue truck and some weirdo freaks giving us the up and down.  I was immediately alerted and told Laura to walk fast.  The men pulled their truck over, parked and started to follow us.  We ran into a Papa Aldos (now known to us as Papa Murphy’s) and asked to use their phone.  They pointed us to the book store across the street where I called my mom in a panic to pick us up.  The men drifted off behind US Bank and we never saw them again.  To this day I claim that we were almost abducted, although no one else believes us.

#6:  I have been pulled over by Police 3 times in a 24 hour period.  Laura and I went on a road trip after college to San Francisco.  To make a long story short we decided to go to Shasta on our way home.  Suited up in our bikinis with our legs perched out the windows of my little red Mazda MX3, we were pulled over for speeding.  The officer asked us where we were going with OR license plates and we informed him we were on our way to Shasta from San Fran.  Thank God he pulled us over because he cocked his head back, laughed and proceeded to inform us we were Southbound and about to arrive in San Jose.  Oops.  He let us off.  The second encounter with police was on foot when I decided to walk up to a cop with a beer in my hand in the campgrounds of Shasta.  He let me off too.  The third meeting with the California po po was the next day when we were all pulled over on a boat on Lake Shasta for lack of life jackets.  What a trip.

#7:  This is my favorite one.  When I was a Sophomore in High School my friend Kristina and I were at my new house listening to the radio when we heard an announcement.  A local radio show was hosting a contest in downtown Portland, a Barbie look-a-like contest.  As it dawned on me it so too dawned on her that I had to enter this bitch.  My mom’s friend Cindy, my mom, Kristina and I decided I would enter…it was that weekend.  I bought the littlest and tightest hot pink mini dress you could find, 4 inch silver sparkled encrusted stilettos and a boa.  We put bright blue eye shadow on me with magenta lip stick and crimped, yes crimped, my hair.  Placing my long blonde hair into a high pony tail I looked just like a Barbie Doll.  We drove down to this Hotel that was hosting this contest.  I signed in and waited until it was my turn to walk the runway.  Taking a look-see around the place we quickly noticed a couple things. First, I was the youngest contestant by about 10 years.  Second, there were about 13 drag queens running up against me and lastly, my dress was see-through.  At the end of the day I didn’t win, but I was told by the consensus of the crowd that I definitely should have won.  They gave the trip to California to a drag queen named Shirley.

#8:  I’ve camped in Alaska.  Just kind of a weird place to have a) gone to and b) camped in.  While I was there, I was almost killed by both a Moose and a massive porcupine.

#9:  I once peed my pants at a Rodeo.  It was my third year in college and some friends and I were home for the summer.  We all decided to attend this super popular rodeo up in St. John, Oregon.  Unsurprisingly, we spent the majority of the evening in the beer gardens.  Apparently those cowboys treat there ‘lil ladies right, because every single one of us girls was three sheets to the wind by about 8 O’Clock.  One thing about beer…it makes you have to pee a lot!  I stumbled over to the restrooms located behind the gardens, but in front of the vendors.  For the 17^th time, I pull down my jeans and pee.  Well, at least I thought I had pulled them down.  As I go to pull up my jeans, I realize that I have pissed all over the back of them.  If anyone has dealt with wet jeans before, you know that they are impossibly hard to put on.  I had to wait there until the girls came looking for me.  Thank God one of them had a hoodie that I tied around my waist.  Pretty sure we kept drinking.

#10:  Not that there is anything wrong with the Dirty Dirty, but I just wasn’t meant to live there.  The second I graduated from college I made the executive decision to move.  Apparently an executive decision can be a bad one because I moved to Conway, Arkansas.  Yes, there was a guy involved, but he wasn’t the main reason I relocated.  I wanted to be adventurous and I’ve always had admiration for the South and more specifically southern hospitality.  Well Arkansas is right smack in the Bible Belt of the southern states and I’m a little Catholic girl from Portland, Oregon.  It didn’t really work out.  Two weeks after my excursion across the country, I followed my warm tracks right on home to the Oregon Trail.  I felt like a pioneer.

These have been The Top 10 Things I Bet You Never Knew About Me!  Until next time, this is Annie McVixen and I say: listen, learn and do!

Today’s Topic is:  Rudeness                                                                         Monday, 2-15-2010

Partly due to the drinks I consumed last night I can’t think at full speed.  Pondering the blog topic today I had trouble choosing a subject because I had a serious brain functioning problem.  Then a light bulb turned on and I realized, “Omigosh, so does that dumbass I was driving behind today.”  I shall take this opportunity to pay tribute to all the dumb ass people in this world and why they need to stop being so rude!

I’m tired, so I clearly wanted to get home this morning in a flash.  I patiently wait at light after light until I’m t-minus 2 minutes from my sweet abode.  As I slowly turn into the turning lane to take a left onto my street, some station wagon in front of my literally cuts me off to the point where if I hadn’t slammed on my breaks he would have surely hit me.  I first gasp in shock, then wait for the ‘I’m sorry I almost killed you wave.’  I never got that wave.  Annoyance turns quickly into anger as he then decides to go 15 mph in a 25 mph.  Everyone knows you go at least 30 mph in a 25 mph, so I’m getting the feeling he is trying to make me pay for his mistakes.  I didn’t know whether to be angry at him after I sat and pondered over it.  I decided because he was driving a fire engine red station wagon that this fella probably had a whole different set of issues far more serious than cutting a person off and not apologizing.  It is after he takes an immediate left onto a street thereby getting the fuck out of my way that I decide 4 minutes instead of 2 minutes really wasn’t that big of a deal.  But overall, still plenty rude.

Following the suit of my past weekend debacles of facing rude and inconsiderate people, I have you another example.  So I worked promotions at this huge Lawn and Patio event, where there were 8,000 attendees per day.  I was working a beer booth, slingn’ brewskis from here to high heaven, 10 hours a day, 3 days in a row where I stumbled into some dumbass people.  Okay, this is generally how it works.  You either A) want to order and then pay for a beer or B) you walk right on by me and make your way on down the road.  No, these beers aren’t ‘on me.’ No, my boobs are real and they made me where this shirt, it’s called a uniform.  No, I do not have to give you a 2 for 1 deal because this is your third trip to me in the last 3 hours.  No, I do not know your sister’s boyfriend’s mom’s daughter and you cannot have a free cup.  I just think people are clueless.  Sometimes I wonder if there’s a gene for common sense and what percentage of Americans or people in general possess this gene opposed to the large mass of degenerates who evidently do not.

There was another problem that arose at this soiree.  Dirty looks.  I realize that this is Portland and the mass population of this city is overweight and miserable, choking down their depression meds with slurpee every 30 seconds but that shouldn’t be a legit excuse for giving strangers the ‘I’m gonna kill you’ glare.  You are probably expecting me to say women were giving me dirty looks because I think I’m so cute, but although that is true, I was actually referring to the looks people were giving each other.  When you are working at a massive event, seeing over 24,000 citizens, you get to do a lot of people watching.  People are rude!  I saw some eerie things this weekend, disturbing things.  One incredibly callous thing I witnessed took me everything I had not to sucker punch this asshole right in the cabeza. 

I was positioned right in front of the food court, next to this cute ‘lil thing named Donna who was giving massages for a dollar a minute.  I had nothing else to do during my down time than to watch her work some serious magic on people’s necks and shoulders.  Waiting patiently for her turn, this older lady sat quietly in line.  She was a homely thing, yes.  She happened to be extremely obese and a tad rough around the edges, but not in a gang way, more of a ‘hard-life’ kind of way.  My heart went out to her.  Anyway, this nasty old man came up to me as this woman climbs onto Donna’s massage chair.  He orders a beer and mumbles something I can’t quite make out because I am trying to thwart my attention off his ugly mug and stank smelling breath.  I feel bad for ignoring him so I turn around and ask, “I’m sorry, what?”  He proceeds to speak up and say, “You’re lucky all you have to do is pour beer, you could be massaging that fat nasty bitch.”  Blood has now drained from my face as I stare blankly at this mean old man.  Mind you, she is about 2 feet away from my beer booth, so close by that I could extend my arm and touch this woman.  I think he realized he was out of line as he backed up his last statement with “that was kind of mean, huh?”  I shake my head yes, as to not make matters worse.  The woman plainly heard.

Stop being rude people.  Nobody is the same, and some people are less fortunate than others.  I am no angel and I have had my share of making fun, but never to that extreme.  See, I make fun of people who deserve it.  There’s a difference.  That’s where that common sense gene could have come in handy for this pathetically clueless man.  If his parents had only conceived a child with mild manners and a ‘shut-off’ mode in his chemically imbalanced brain, we could have been able to do without that above calamity and that lady probably wouldn’t’ have gone home and cried.

So, at the end of the day, pointing out another’s short-comings really just makes you look like an ass.  If that’s your cup of tea then great, but realize that you’ve just made yourself my perfect target.  Until next time y’al: listen, learn and do!

Today’s topic is: Stop making us look bad!                                    Saturday, 2-13-2010

Some sore subjects need to be addressed and I have no problem doing so.  You could compare dating in Portland to what I assume would be equivalent to drowning in water but at a slower pace.  The datable ones are diamonds in the rough around these parts but the dooshers are a dime a dozen.  With these said circumstances, we vixens are having a hell of a time deciphering what we should do.

All one would need to do for proof is to go down to Old Town on any given Friday or Saturday night.  Portland’s skid row is swarming with overly testosteroned bullies, the gays, fat chicks in little dresses and the hustle and bustle of the middle class Abercrombie and Fitch wearing douchebags.  Where are the normal people hiding?

I have a theory.  I think many would agree that there are far more good-looking gals in Portland than there are lads.  Keep in mind I am referring to singles.  Ok, with that said, men clearly have options, while the women have to either fight for the normal guy or wait around and settle for less than she deserves.  I see a balance issue arising, and I’m not super keyed up about it.

What has finally happened is that guys caught on to this reality and like many other things in their lives are abusing it.  I’ll break it down.  There are always the slutty girls who will go home with you after the club closes and give her goods away with out blinking an eye; then there are the religious goody goodies who don’t have sex; then there are the stuck up pretty girls who are probably the most depressed people in the world because the guys in Portland are afforded the luxury of choosing to do without their drama all the while still getting ass from the other chicks; and then there are the wildly insecure ladies, attractive or not, who settle for these guys who treat them like shit but stick around because they think no one else will want them.  Oh, and then there are the sexy vixens.

Stop making us look bad!  And you know who you are.  As women, stop giving guys everything they want.  Don’t put up with their lying and stop being sluts.  If you keep giving your goods away for nothing then guys will start expecting it.  Then when a normal girl comes around who respects herself, it’s as if the guy was smacked upside the head and they don’t know what to do with her.  When a guy has something amazing in front of him and his first reaction is to then run away because it’s too good to be true, than I think it’s time for this issue to be addressed.

We are creating a danger zone people.  Minds are being tainted and all morals are out the window.  I know people are getting married later in life these days and heck, I’m not talking about finding a husband, I’m merely talking about finding a suitor!  Guys need to be ‘shaped.’  Rewarding for good behavior has never let a dog trainer down so maybe we should take a front row seat in the day in the life of a 3-month old golden retriever and its owner.

So here is what I suggest.  Ladies, stop lowering your standards just because the plethora of men in this town treat you like crap.  Hold out for the good guys and once they come a knockn’, don’t get over excited and mess up a good thing.  We shouldn’t be blown away when a man treats us with the accord and respect in which we deserve.  It’s a sad and pathetic reality when that happens.  And guys, stop being douchebags and put some effort into it.  If you treat us like humans, like upstanding women, then you too shall see a better days.  Women love to reward men for good behavior and guess what, you could get sloppy ass from a drunk bar star, but more than likely this gal won’t give you the clap!

So I’ll say this one last time, stop making us look bad!  Girls quit your slutty excursions around town trying to get a man to want you by sleeping with him and guys stop using those girls for ass.  Sooner or later we are all going to have to get along, because damn it this is Portland and I probably know your Mother.  She’s probably my mom’s best friend’s sister.  Until next time or when I feel like writing again, this is Annie McVixen and I say: listen, learn and do!

Today’s topic is: Projection, and why it’s so awful                 Wednesday, 2-10-2010

Have you ever been in a relationship with someone who you feel is completely off their rocker?  I have.  And if the answer to this question for you is, yes, than have you ever felt like you could never win with that person?  If the answer to that is also yes, than I am willing to bet you have been the victim of a little thing I like to call: projection.

Projection can come in all shapes and sizes.  Usually it will sprout about due to someone’s defiant insecurity within themselves that they need to displace in order to feel better.  I will redirect this topic and focus solely on projection within a relationship between a man and a woman.  I have come very familiar with projection and I am elated to say that I have finally pinpointed, dissected and figured it all out.  I used to think I was going crazy, until I realized that due to my flawless genetics, that’s quite simply an impossible option.

I have you an example.  I dated this guy named “John” off and on for two years.  He lived a couple hours away for the better part of our relationship so I already had little room to catch on to his lies and falsities.  However, the substantial amount of time we dated allotted me the privilege of catching him in some serious inconsistencies.  Basically, he had a girlfriend in his hometown and when he would come to visit me he would have his cake.  In the duration of our courtship he would accuse me of flirting with other guys and cheating on him.  This was not the case because for some reason I was head over heel s for him and in no way would I lay that on the line.  Quite the opposite was going on.  I was going above and beyond to please him, and still I got no credit for my generousness, but instead ridiculed and accused of lies.  I was baffled by his lack of confidence in us and his fear of committing to a relationship with me.  I could give you reasons from here to Tim Buk Two as to why he said we wouldn’t ‘work out,’ but the truth was he was a grade-A duesche.

My experience with Johnny boy is a perfect case of some hardcore projection.  He couldn’t commit to me, he had a girlfriend.  He said I cheated on him because he was cheating on me, and obviously on her.  He said he couldn’t trust me because I was a flirt, but that’s what he was doing behind my back at the clubs.  This guy had issues that certainly stemmed from the white trash water he was drinking in his little home town and the inflictions on his brain functioning for doing so.  I rapidly caught on to this tragedy of a situation and dispelled his ass.  I strongly recommend if you recognize this bullshit, to then apply some discretion and direction to your debacle at hand.  You have 3 options and I only condone two of them.

Option 1:  You can flip his shit.  You can do some detective work and expose the secrets he is hiding.  You’ll have the luxury of his attention while you bitch him out and call him names.  You will temporarily feel better for doing this.  The downside to this option is that he probably won’t care and because you’ve now screamed at him he will move on a little easier.  If he apologizes and sincerely wants you back, I guarantee this problem will revamp at a later time.  A cheater is a cheater, no way around that pickle ladies.

Option 2:  I was once advised to dump a guy discretely and this advice came from another man.  My friend Tyler told me the ultimate revenge on his cheating ways and ugly projections unto me was to dump his ass, but there was a catch.  He said I could never tell him what I found out and I had to keep it to myself.  I won’t lie, this will require momentous amounts of will power from you, because surely you will be so steamed at your man that refraining from tearing his head off will seem almost impossible.  Tyler reassured me that if a woman used a reason such as “I’m just not really feeling you anymore and I don’t want to lead you on,” that it would do serious damage to his ego and would create a whirlwind of insecurities for him to stress over down the road.   After a lot of reflection on my part, I have decided that this is the option I hope all you ladies choose when faced with a decision to dump your loser boyfriend.

Option 3:  Stay with him and work it out.  Obviously this is the option that I do not condone.  He is a manipulator at heart and the proof is in the pudding.  As if lying and/or cheating wasn’t bad enough, but Slumdog Millionaire has also tricked you into thinking that he actually believes your lying and cheating on him when clearly it’s a projection of his own guilt.  That’s evil.  He is not even worthy of being your taxi driver or garbage man.  

Amongst all the wonderful things I love about myself, I really admire my ability to learn from my mistakes.  Some may say that I am full of shit because they’ve seen me date douchebags after douchebags, but I am here to say that it was only a recent discovery and elucidation that has brought me to this hurdling moment of clarity.  Thus, I am no longer full of bullshit and this advice is priceless. 

Ladies, I hate to break it to you but in 2010 and as far into the future that I can see it becomes ever so clear to me that we will all have to kiss a lot of frogs before prince charming comes along.  This is okay, because kissing is fun.  But honestly, learn from my mistakes with dating a manipulative man who makes you feel like your going mad.  You aren’t going mad, you are being mistreated and for that your day of glory will be that much sweeter after you’ve dumped his punk-loser ass!  Until next time poodles: listen, learn and do!

Today’s topic is: How I feel about Valentine ’s Day                      Tuesday, 2-09-2010