Calm down. I’m married and totally happy (Except about the dirty dishes in the sink… right next to the dishwasher… which is empty and right next to the sink and waiting for his sour milk cereal bowl… because I emptied it.) As I was saying, I am thrilled to be hitched to a mostly clean and completely respectable Sir.
But there was a time when the peckered public wasn’t nearly so safe, when left to my immature bachelorette tactics I tried every tipsy and terribly desperate attempt to hook a man. Occasionally the bar’s lighting was just dim enough, the whiskey just strong enough that I got a date. A time or two I was so cunning a date turned into a boyfriend. These bar fly boyfriends, turns out, were as unappealing as I was when I forgot to fake-love football.
Renee Schuls-Jacobson’s So Wrong Series asks bloggers to spill their most embarrassing moments and what they learned aside from the obvious in’s and out’s of utter humiliation.
With Valentine’s Day approaching, I’m dishing on a disasterous romantic evening that was as stinky as it was telling. It was the night the legend of the ”Love Bomb” was born. For all the single ladies, duped boyfriends, and the rest of you otherwise bound or free, head over to Renee’s fantastic blog for my lessons on love, suspicious trailers, and how to know a bad thing when you sniff it.
Read “Romancing The Throne“…
(It’s not as disgusting as it sounds. Oh, yes it is. )