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Girls Gone Wild

My Most Mischievous Moment

June 17, 2012 by Cady McClain

Ms. Cheevious Note: Continuing in our series of guest articles I’m thrilled to welcome Cady McClain, two time Emmy winner, author, artist, musician, funny lady and all around Ms. Cheevious gal as this week’s guest contributor (you will soon learn just how mischievous she can be).

Let’s give Ms. McClain a warm welcome here in Ms. Cheevious-land: Read, enjoy, comment and share this article with everyone you know.

xoxo

Ms. Cheevious
Editor in (Mis)Chief

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My Most Mischievous Moment

Painting by Maria William & Available for Purchase. Used by Permission
Painting by Maria J. William available for purchase (www.mariawilliam.net/joy.html). Used by Permission

My most mischievous moment was … when I ended up naked in a rooftop pool.

It happened quite randomly. I was attending a baby shower. Who would have thought in less than 5 hours I’d be drunk off my ass, naked in a pool on the roof of the SOHO house in NYC?

It’s true, the baby shower simply wasn’t “doing it” for me. I guess I’m not terribly sentimental about other people’s children. In fact, it’s really hard to care less. Their parents seem to care quite enough, thank you. So I will admit it. I WAS BORED. Bored out of my mind. The guy who sat next to me at the table, the one guy who seemed a tiny bit interesting took off early. Maybe he didn’t want to get hit up by a bunch of wild women, who knows. I couldn’t blame him. More than one of us was looking for trouble that night.

And so it happened that I found myself lingering at the bar with my heavy drinking German girlfriend – let’s call her Olga, wondering what would possibly take the sting out of all the reminders that neither one of us, already in our late 30’s, were married or anywhere close to considering something as unsettling as a baby shower. Across the room from us, her friend, a mad English woman who we shall call Madame X, was on the prowl, fingering her blackberry in a mad attempt to summon someone to entertain (or more likely) fawn over her.

The Englishwoman Madame X, saw my German friend Olga and me and suddenly stopped texting whatever was so important, focusing in on me like a laser beam. She stomped over with a curious half smile on her face. Something was brewing in her eyes, but I was too naïve then to truly understand the expression.

“I am inviting my friend over. He is in town from Ireland. HE is WITH ME, OKAY?” She announced this with no provocation or to no argument from either Olga or myself. Then she continued, much to our surprise, “SO DON’T GET ANY IDEAS, ALRIGHT?”

“Alright! Christ!” I said, “I don’t know what you are talking about but, what-ever!” I was intrigued now, that was for sure. I think perhaps that was her aim all along – to stir up trouble. “What are we doing?”

“I DON’T KNOW,” was her already-well-into-her-third-martini reply. “BUT HE’S COMING.”

I turned to Olga. “Well, OKAY. If we have a ‘special guest,’” I rolled my eyes for emphasis and to make Olga laugh, “Maybe we should do something interesting.” I don’t really remember whose idea it was to go to the pool but once it was suggested we all agreed it was a good move. It was the idea that defined ‘who was into a round of fun’ and who was not.

At the mention of “The Pool,” the few baby lovers left lingering decided to toddle off to whatever baby thing gave them a thrill while the rest of us (single women) headed to the roof – where champagne was being served and the heated pool beckoned.

SOHO HOUSE NYC

It turned out to be really lovely weather for October, and for some reason there was no one else there but us. I wonder why they let us stay. We were not exactly behaving ourselves, but we were ordering drinks – lots of them. It was fun to watch the other girls (there were about six of us by this point) saunter around the pool and show off for the waiters. We had scared off any normal men. It was at this point the poet arrived.

He had long, shaggy blonde hair and was tall with a muscular build. A handsome chap, the kind that looked like there would be no taming him – in fact, quite the contrary. He was a “use it/you and lose it/you” kind of fellow. I could see why Madame X thought it was important to tell any Irish looking dame like myself to back off. We were, shall we say, each other’s “type,” and by that I mean we both knew what alcoholism and depression looked like first hand. You recognize it when you grow up with it, and you don’t ever live without being aware of those who have it and those that don’t. It’s a little family gift, a turd of love. I have learned that the attraction to other people who are similarly gifted the turd, is not love, nothing of the sort. It is simply “recognition of a similar self” – nothing more nothing less. However when you are young and stupid, it feels like sexual attraction. It’s one of God’s cute little tricks to beat you into admitting you know nothing.

Madame X announced she was going into the pool and promptly ‘dropped trou.’ She had a pretty body, small breasts that lie upon her chest like little cupcakes begging to be licked, and a fine round rump. I liked looking at her.

“Fuck it,” I said (as I have so often), and also shed my wears. Now – if you don’t know me, you need to know I am one part ‘uber conservative priss’ and one part ‘wild hippie child.’ I cannot control which one or when either one is going to come out – it just happens. Tonight it was the hippie. Let’s just say I was into some free hugs. Almost all the girls jumped in right after me, but Olga was not unleashing her largess. She preferred cocaine and cigarettes to naughty behavior, unless of course, she was fucking someone famous or infamous. This she enjoyed until she could get back to her cigarettes whom I suspect will turn out to be the love of her life.

We swam for a long time. It was someone’s (mine) bright idea to get shots of tequila. I think I was missing my so-called boyfriend at the time who lived in another state of body and mind – one that didn’t include coming into town to hang out with me and my friends. He liked tequila a great deal, almost as much as he liked pot. Tequila shots and champagne, however, don’t like anybody.

I don’t think I blacked out, but I don’t remember when the poet swam up to me and we began some sort of dialogue. We didn’t touch, but it’s an undeniable fact that we were both naked. We simply swam up and down the pool, talking. It was really lovely. A poetic moment, of sorts: the warm water running over my body, his blonde pubic hair wafting in the chlorine, his body standing over me as I floated and we talked about something philosophical and restful and intriguing. I didn’t want to fuck him – really, I SWEAR. It would have seemed like too much work. I was tired of all the emotional exhaustion that comes from fucking, anyway. I just liked talking and we happened to be naked. Some people would understand that. Others, like Madame X, did not.

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING, MISSY?” Came the bellow from down the pool. I stood up looked at the poet and realized, oh yeah… this was the guy I was supposed to stay away from. It was an, “Ah shit,” moment, because I knew no one would believe me when I said I was enjoying the conversation.

“I think I’d better, uh, you know,” I said. He nodded and looked pissed. A pleasant moment ruined.

I watched him push his body down the pool towards her. She kneeled and tried to touch him, which he brushed off. Then I had to stop watching. I found a towel and dried off, talking to Olga who looked like she saw a very familiar play begin to act itself out again. It was hard to see her friendship so tested, as she had been a good pal to Madame X for many years.

When I got my outfit back together I noticed the poet had left. “Where’d the guy go?” I asked Olga, who shrugged. He wasn’t the only one. Apparently while I was off pulling my pants out of my wet ass, he and a few other girls had taken off. Madame X had been tearing into each one of them as they walked out. The tequila had made me too drunk to notice. She turned her fury to me.

“HE’S LEFT! YOU SEE WHAT YOU DID?” She stomped over like an angry toddler and sat across me on a lounger, crushed. “YOU SEE? I TOLD YOU TO STAY AWAY FROM HIM AND NOW HE’S LEFT.”

“You know, we were just talking. There wasn’t anything going on. He’s nice. I don’t know, maybe you should call him.” What a stupid girl I was. In way over my head with a diva, I went for the soft sell. I should have left then, but I didn’t. I thought I had to make up for something, had to be a friend and explain my point of view. MISTAKE!

“YOU KNOW, I HAVE CANCER!” She screamed at me. “I HAVE FUCKING CANCER!”

Now you need to know this too: my completely insane, uber-dysfunctional mother died of a long, disgustingly hideous and vomit inducing trial with cancer which lasted from my teens into my mid-twenties, so when she pulled that card, I was frozen by her statement – frozen and thrown back into those years when my mother had screamed the same thing at me in order to control my actions and drive me into being her 24-hour nurse/husband. It was then I KNEW I had to get the fuck out of there. BUH-BYE.

After I begged Madame X’s forgiveness, Olga, having had enough of the opera, agreed to come with me and we got into a cab headed downtown. I managed to hold it together for about five minutes, after which I promptly puked all over the New York Post Olga had so thoughtfully bought with her newest pack of Marlbouroughs. I could see some guys in the next car over laughing their heads off as my body convulsed into a second heave. Not a fun moment.

While Olga took my giant German Sheppard for a walk I puked again in my very own porcelain toilet. According to Olga, my dog took the biggest shit she had ever seen a dog take. So big she had to dig in the trash several times for paper and plastic bags to pick it all up with, as I (selfishly) had managed to use up all of her newspaper with my vomit. Olga deserved a medal. Years later, we would talk about this night as if it were something hilarious that happened as opposed to horrible and tragic and I would laugh along with her while knowing inside it was, except for the moment in the pool, as disconnected as I had ever been. I don’t know, some people find pain funny.

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Cady McClain Ms. Cheevious ContributorABOUT CADY MCCLAIN
Cady McClain is a two-time Emmy winner for her work on “All My Children” and “As the World Turns.” In 2006 her blog, “Confessions of a Mad Soap Star” received over 2 million unique visitors. She is currently writing for ANDMagazine and Policymic.com as well as on her own website www.cadymcclain.com. She is also currently writing a memoir titled, “Murdering My Youth,” represented by Michelle Humphries at The Martha Kaplan Agency in NYC.

Check out her “Suzy F*cking Homemaker” and “Reading Twitter with Cady” videos and more at www.youtube.com/blueglitterfish.

OTHER RECENT ARTICLES BY CADY
Policymic.com: http://www.policymic.com/articles/7821/how-50-shades-of-grey-and-violent-porn-might-be-perverting-women-s-sexual-identity
ANDMagazine
:  http://www.andmagazine.com/content/phoenix/12289.html

MORE WAYS TO FIND CADY
Soap Comic Kickstarter Campaign with Mansion Comics:  http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/mansioncomics/whispering-hearts-an-illustrated-soap-opera-magazi
Web Site:  http://www.cadymcclain.com
YouTUBE: http://www.youtube.com/user/blueglitterfish
TUMBLR: http://cadymcclain.tumblr.com/
Twitter: @realcadymcclain and @HomemakerSuzyF
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/CadyMcClain

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All Blog content copyright 2012, LISA JEY DAVIS aka Ms. Cheevious

Filed Under: Celebrities, Chicky Fun, Girls Gone Wild, Girls Night Out, Uncategorized

Are You Ms. Cheevious?

June 10, 2012 by MsCheevious

The title of this article is literal. I really do want to know whether you embody all of the qualities of mischief, therefore making you a Ms. Cheevious girl or guy. But in asking the question “Are you Ms. Cheevious?” it makes me think of what would be a very clever slant to another article. That article would tell you all about how I was asked by an adoring fan whether I was the real Ms. Cheevious. Isn’t that just simply fabulous? Just the idea! But that means “Ms. Cheevious” would have to be super uber famous. So we’ll reserve that story for a day when the mysterious moniker of “Ms. Cheevious” is super uber famous. I can dream, can’t I? After all, unless people read the blog regularly, watch the videos on YouTube, follow on Facebook or actually click the pics on my Twitter profile, how would they really know what I look like? I use one of my paintings as my Avatar, for goddsakes! It could happen. The Ms. Cheevious avatar could become more famous than the me underneath and behind it all. Ahhhh, that’ll be the day people… and mark my words people, that day is coming. I’ll use this article title again. It will be the one and only time I will allow the use of a title more than once. But I digress.

As to the real question of “Are YOU Ms. Cheevious?” well, I can help you out there.  If you possess at least two of the below listed qualities of mischief, then you my dear are indeed a Ms. Cheevious guy or girl. Welcome to the fold.

But first, the definition (with Ms. Cheevious modifications, of course):

mis·chie·vous/ˈmisCHivəs/
Adjective:

  1. (of a person, animal, or their behavior) Causing or showing a fondness for causing trouble in a playful way: “two mischievous kittens”.

Noun:

  1. a person or animal who exhibits the qualities of the adjective (above), or who also exhibits any of its synonyms and the synonym’s synonyms.  “Mischievous (also pronounced MisCHEE-Vee-əs) loves company”

Synonyms:    naughty – impish – prankish – playful – wicked – rascally – puckish

THE LIST

 

1. You never get hangovers. It’s true. I’m told I have some extra enzyme in my blood that enables me to drink without getting hangovers (except on rare occasions – like this past Saturday night – hangover #2 in my entire life – when you mix Jameson’s Irish Whiskey, Coffee, Chardonnay, vodka martini, vodka tonics and “The Killer” from the Firehouse in Venice Beach (Vodka, Peach Liqueur, and Arnold Palmer – Iced Tea and Lemonade)).  The rare times you do get a hangover, it is a god-send. Otherwise, you would drink way too much, and all the time.

2. You have “blonde moments”. You do not have to be blonde to have these moments. This is true if you have ever phoned or texted someone and not recalled doing so (and not while tipsy), gone searching for your purse that was hanging on your arm all along (sunglasses sitting on your head, keys already in your hand – you get the picture), or forgotten where you parked, and were late to the next event because of it.

3. You are naughty AND nice. To you, all really IS fair in love and war.  You love breaking the rules, but not if it’s going to hurt someone else.

4. Your middle name is “Trouble”. You don’t just have a fondness for causing trouble.  It’s on your calling card.  And your reputation precedes you.  If there is fun to be had, and frivolity can possibly ensue, you are there to be sure the fun IS had by all, and frivolity commences immediately. You even have some friends who refuse to spend too much time with you, for fear this sort of “trouble” will rub off on them.

5. People feel good around you. You know how to make people feel special, and you derive much pleasure from doing so. You’ve been told that you make someone important feel good, calm, loved. This is key.

6. You have minions. Yes. If you have “people” who will make things happen for you, for others (on your behalf), for themselves (on your behalf — that’s the best one), then you have minions. Use them in good health.

7. You dress to impress. To impress yourself, your loves in life… whatever.  You care.

8. You’re sexy and you know it. You should have written the song, not LMFAO.  It should be your mantra. Party Rockin’ in the House Tonight!  Yes. You are comfortable in your own skin.  You feel sexy, therefore you are sexy. You know how to take care of yourself, and you do it.  But you also know how to cut loose and enjoy every moment.  Which leads me to the last item.

9. You Enjoy Every Moment. This means you will get the absolute most out of every single moment life has to offer.  And it’s not up for debate, like  “what about if someone dies?” Because… really?  If someone dies?  Everyone dies people. No one gets out of this thing alive. The trick is to enjoy every moment while you are still alive.  If there is a time to cry, by GOD you will cry your heart out and get the most out that too.  Enjoy.

Love you people! Mmmmmphhhuuuhhhhh!!!!!

xoxo,

Ms. Cheevious

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All Blog content copyright 2012, LISA JEY DAVIS aka Ms. Cheevious

Filed Under: Friends, Girls Gone Wild, Girls Night Out, Hip Chicks, Sheer Utter Silliness, Uncategorized Tagged With: avatar, Facebook, Firehouse, kittens, lisa jey, Lisa Jey Davis, LisaJeyDavis, LMFAO, Minions, mischief, moniker, Ms. Cheevious, MsCheevious, paintings, synonyms, uber, Venice Beach, Vodka

Half-Naked Dance Party

June 3, 2012 by Jewels

Boys and girls, Ms. Cheevious will be off galavanting around the world for the next several weeks. I’m sorry, I just don’t have time for the blog right now. It happens.  But I’ll be sure to post some fabulous pics from the road. To top it off, while I am  jet setting to Paris and Athens, my alter-ego Lisa Jey Davis is stuck at home in Southern California, but she is under the gun to actually FINISH the book she’s been laboring over.

In light of this, all my split personalities and I have asked a few select, and talented bloggers/writers we know to step in and write some guest posts.

First up: A lovely, talented dating and relationship blogger we love, According to Jewels. Sit back and ENJOY people!

xoxo Ms. Cheevious

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Anyone who follows me on Twitter (@According2Jewls) has no doubt seen my weekend tweets about my half-naked dance parties.

Half-Naked Dance Party

This is not mere titillation meant to gain more followers, though if it happens, I’m fine with that.

I actually enjoy a half-naked solo dance party on a regular basis. Think I’m crazy?  I beg to differ.  It is a ton of fun.

It is exactly what it sounds like. I strip down to my bra and panties (sexy, lacy ones of course) and pump up the music. This is typically accompanied by a glass of wine or two and a lot of laughing. My “Dance Party” playlist goes on shuffle and then it’s fun-and-games time. Those people who dance in their car while singing at the top of their lungs… yeah, I’m one of them. They (like me) don’t mind if someone sees them being silly. They know you can see them. They just don’t care.

Well, my dance party is a more private version of this.

There are times when this is my main event of the night: There’s no going out, and no real reason for said party, other than wanting to let lose. Those nights I may even slip into some sexy sleepwear and write between dance breaks. I’m typically writing posts for my adult blog during this time, and that side of Jewels loves her sexy time. What better way to get in the mood for writing about “adult topics” than to turn on some sultry tunes and slink my way around the room working my hips like a want to be Shakira? You write sexy when you feel sexy and I love doing both of those things.

Then there are times where my Half-Naked Dance Party (HNDP) is just the warm up for a night out. That is when I get a little crazy and do my ‘pump-up-the-volume’ or ‘pre-game’ rally to get ready for the night. Imagine me, glass of wine in hand, music turned up, throwing items around my closet, and searching through a mountain of shoes for the missing mate to my favorite pair of ‘goes with everything, super comfy’ heals. I will be singing along to “It Takes Two” by the infamous Rob Base and DJ EZ Rock while I apply eye shadow, liner, and mascara… finishing off with a shiny nude gloss. I promise that at some point the urge to truly dance (again) will overcome me and I’ll do that annoying “OH MY GOD, I LOVE THIS SONG,” drop my mascara wand and dance madly in my room alone. Yes, totally alone (I’m known to both talk to myself and dance totally alone).

The nights when my HNDP is that warm-up before going out, I always arrive at my destination feeling sexier and on top of the world. I just carry myself differently. I am fun, flirty, and a more fabulous version of myself.

On the nights when I simply stay in and write after a HNDP, you can believe I produce some seriously steamy, sexually driven, confident, powerful pieces those nights.

The important part is that I’m singing, dancing, smiling and happy the whole time. I’m enjoying myself and more importantly I’m enjoying being in my body. As somebody who hasn’t always been comfortable in my own skin, this is huge for me. When you haven’t always loved your body it’s amazing to embrace it, flaws and all, and feel sexy doing so. Half-Naked Dance Parties started out as a practice in learning to love my body, but now, well now they are just a crap ton of fun! 😉

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About our Guest: According to Jewels
According to Jewels is a writer/blogger who tackles topics ranging from relationships, sex, and dating, to being brutally honest in life and raising the bar on people’s behavior. Drawing from her own life experience and profiting from the dating/relationship drama of friends, she calls women/men out on their ridiculous behavior, sheds light on love/sex misconceptions, and entertains in the process. Read her two blogs at AccordingToJewels.com and Naughty-Nothings.net (an adult blog).  She can be reached at AccordingtoJewels@yahoo.com.

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Get on down here to post your questions and comments people! Let’s show Ms. Jewels your Ms. Cheevious support!

Love you people!!!!! Mmmmppphhhuuuhhhh!!!!

xoxo,

Ms. Cheevious

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Don’t Be Shy! Leave A Reply!

Register to receive my blog posts via email on the Ms. Cheevious Home page. Be sure to confirm when you receive your verification email!

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All Blog content copyright 2012, LISA JEY DAVIS aka Ms. Cheevious


Filed Under: Chicky Fun, Girls Gone Wild, Girls Night Out, Hip Chicks, Single Life, Single Women, Uncategorized Tagged With: According to Jewels, According2Jewls, AccordingtoJewels, Half Naked Dance Party, HNDP

10 Things Girls Secretly Wish About Guys

May 16, 2012 by MsCheevious

I received some interesting comments in response to my article “10 Things Guys Secretly Wish About Women” here on my site, on Facebook and via personal emails.

It was a fun post to write. I really wanted to explore the subject because I feel as though women tend to believe (and promote) ridiculous notions about themselves. It is tiring and embarrassing being held accountable by men for ideas floating around (which sound good initially, but end up falling flat) like ‘women should “become” successful or fashionable or fit, because that is what a man wants’, or even worse, that certain behaviors are okay because we are – well, female – for goddsakes. Not true. Clinginess or nagging is unattractive no matter what sex organs you possess. Yes, there are certain things we can do to rock our partner’s world. The article definitely addressed some of those things (like supporting their passions, even if it involves watching, listening or sacrificing our date night to sports almost every day of the week). Reminder. It wasn’t a list of MUSTS – just what guys secretly wish. Likewise, this is not a MUST-DO list for guys. Guys can take it or leave it with no judgment whatsoever. They may never get lucky again, but hey – it’s their prerogative.

In all fairness, however, women deserve equal time.  I covered things for the guys, so by-god my girls and I get our day in Ms. Cheevious-land too.  Plus, some of you wrote and asked me to do it.

One of the things that crossed my mind when I decided to write about this was “are you friggin’ KIDDING? Women? The list could be endless!”

I admit I think we are a little whacky and our wishes about guys are all over the map.  With men, whittling it down to ten things seemed pretty easy – and I probably covered it pretty thoroughly. They’re pretty simple human beings.  Food, sex, laughs, eye candy and activities they enjoy (reading, athletic, channel surfing – choose the poison) are probably about it for them. Not so for women.  A quick Google search of the things women wish about guys delivered 579 million results.  That’s the actual number people.  One such result was a Facebook page dedicated to the 257 Things a Girl Wished a Guy Knew.  Wow. I wouldn’t want to be a guy.

If you haven’t noticed yet, WE’RE VERY DIFFERENT.

Female_Male_SymbolsThere are some really important differences between men and women (aside from the obvious) that make it truly impossible for me to list ALL the things women wish about men in this article.

EMOTIONS. We women are complex creatures who are not only willing to allow emotions a place of prominence in our decision making processes, we are  hardwired to do so (hormones, cycles, etc). Most men (not all, of course) are simple individuals (see above).  They know what they want and need, and they try to make that happen.  Simple.

BRAINS. Women think differently than men. We access our left and right brains simultaneously. Men use one side at a time. This benefits us often (we’re amazing multi-taskers), but it can backfire as well.  If, for instance, we are compelled by logic (left brain) NOT to text or call the guy — AGAIN — often (at the very same time) the right brain in all its creativity and imagination (fueled by those ooey-gooey, yummy emotions) offers up just as compelling an argument to do so, i.e. ‘but I really like him.. and…[imagining] wouldn’t we make such a cute couple? If I show him how cute I am, he’s bound to see how cute we would be together. I’ll text him this cute picture right now…”

BODIES. Our bodies are different, and have different needs. We possess extremely complex, multi-layered va-jay-jays (and our not-so-complex, but equally tantalizing ta-tas). Men have some pretty basic elements to their physiques – a penis and its – ehem – cohorts.  Once you’ve explored every nook and cranny, there AIN’T much else to discover.  But no one knows or holds the keys to the kingdom when it comes to every undiscovered secret of the great female organ. Not even the woman possessing it. So then, why would anyone expect that from any man (who simply wants food, sex, laughs and enjoyable activities)?

I could go on, but I think you get my point.

Still, in the name of equality, and in an effort to be just as thorough for my girls, I’m diving in.  LORD help me.

1. TREAT ME SPECIAL NO MATTER WHO IS AROUND (DON’T TREAT ME DIFFERENTLY WHEN YOU”RE AROUND YOUR FRIENDS). That’s just weak.  Be good to me.  Period. Not too difficult. Don’t disrespect me. If you need guy time, I get it. Just don’t treat me like one of your locker room buddies when they are around (insults, jabs and wise-cracks about bodily functions included) and expect me to crawl all over you later that evening.

2. DON’T BE A JEALOUS  OR POSSESSIVE NANCY. That’s even weaker.  Be confident in yourself and in our relationship, no matter how gorgeous you think I am (and thank you, by the way, but it’s not a threat to you), or how scandalous and untrustworthy other guys may be.

3. DON’T BE A SLOBBOVIAN WHEN YOU GROOM YOURSELF. You did NOT just clip your nose hairs and leave it in the sink, did you?  Puh-leeez.  I am not your maid, or your mom.  I love seeing you when you’re well groomed (translation: when you look and smell clean and are the HOT guy I am attracted to).  I don’t want to know (or see or smell) how it happened, especially when it’s etched into the grout.

4. IF YOU ASK FOR DIRECTIONS WE WILL LOVE YOU MORE. You might even get a little extra somethin’ somethin’. This one requires no further explanation. Just ask, for goddsakes.

5. SUPPORT MY PASSIONS. Just as I watch and try to enjoy – or fake it  –  your sports, your dune buggies, motorcycles, model airplanes, etc… at least on occasion, I want you to do the same for my shows, my occasional trip to the mall, antiquing…. even daisy picking.    Yep…once more… with feeling.  The “Real Housewives,” “The Bachelor,” “Grey’s Anatomy,” “Revenge,” are all now part of the deal. And those daisies won’t pick themselves. But seriously men, if we agree to extend each other a hall pass for such activities, well, at least smile and act excited for us as we head out the door to our next chick flick.  When we see you next, maybe even ask about it, and try to act interested.  Don’t let your eyes glaze over.  Hopefully in return we’ll do the same while you’re on your way to hang out with the guys at the Sports Bar all day on a Sunday, or when you launch into a ten minute diatribe on the NFL draft and the doom of the first-round draft pick’s career.

Shopping is done

6. CELEBRATE MY SUCCESSES WITH ME. Don’t be threatened, even if you are out of work. My good fortune is your good fortune.  We’re a team.  If that means you are on Windex or Pledge duty, well, I’ll cheer you on too.  I’ll be that support you need, but don’t ruin things by handling my good fortune badly.

 

7. CUDDLE AND TOUCH ME MORE. I’m not saying it has to be all the time.  But geez, how about once in a while?  Maybe after a hard day, while we watch TV, anytime the time is right… caress my cheek… stroke my hair… squeeze my arm gently… hug me…  put your hand on my leg when we sit next to each other…  Once in a while will do.  Just do it.

 

8. MS. VA-JAY-JAY LIKES “SPECIAL” ATTENTION AS MUCH OR MORE THAN MR. WINKY. Because I am built so that you can please me in a multiplicity of ways, I don’t complain when I don’t get that specific attention.  Just don’t make it rare or never.  NOT ACCEPTABLE. Not only that, sometimes we actually want, or NEED to have that full-throttle orgasm that just won’t happen by the traditional means.  You may have to get creative yourself Mister.

9. SURPRISE ME. Let me know you are thinking of me when I’m not around. Buy me some flowers or do something as a token of your affection… at work or at home… in a restaurant — For no apparent reason.

Whistle While You Mop

10. BE MY MAN. And all that entails.  Chivalry is not dead, and contrary to popular belief – I still like it. I am strong, intelligent, independent and an incredible success story in my own right. I’m not looking for a knight in shining armor, necessarily, but if you want to walk on the street side of the sidewalk, and open the door for me, I won’t mind.  I would also greatly appreciate and probably become your love slave, should you find occasion to defend my honor, and do so.  I’m just sayin’.  I don’t need a man to rescue me, but I do appreciate him showing that he can, that he cares  and that he is willing, should he see the opportunity.

So there you have it. I did say there was no way on EARTH to cover everything, didn’t I?

Check in next time for something frivolous and delicious.  I’ll be over here conjuring it up…

Love you people!!!!! Mmmmppphhhuuuhhh!!!!

xoxo,

Ms. Cheevious

WATCH the related video: http://youtu.be/V_eCt04xKak

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All Blog content copyright 2012, LISA JEY DAVIS aka Ms. Cheevious

Filed Under: Blogroll, Chicky Fun, Dating, Girls Gone Wild, Hip Chicks, Relationships, Sex, Single Life, Single Moms, Single Women, Uncategorized Tagged With: Chocolates, Cuddling, Flowers, Jealousy, Male Grooming, NFL, Possessiveness, Sex, Shopping

What to Do About What They Didn’t Teach You In School

April 9, 2012 by MsCheevious

I apologize that I am starting your week off with this piece of news – especially since now that Easter and Passover is finished, we are happily diving in to Spring… but – well – You are getting older.

Yep. It’s true. No one gets out of this thing without getting older and aging.
I know. Yawwwwwn.

I’ve already heard from the peanut gallery:  “But Ms. Cheevious… we want to hear about something fun that you did in Hollywood!!!”  and “When will you be the same funny blogger we have come to know, love, worship and obey?”

I know.

I KNOW.

Indulge me while I share this important information. I realize that the “Lisa Jey Davis” side of me is not as fun ALL THE DAMN TIME as the Ms. Cheevious side of me, but you would never know just how fun life could be, if you were never faced with real-life shit some of the time. Right?

Just because I’m talking about getting older here does not mean this post is not for you, or that it’s boring, no.  I don’t care how you size it up, but I am never boring.  Slow? Maybe. Blond and ditzy at times?  Definitely.  Boring? No. Nada. Niet. Never.

The truth is, if you are a SMART young thing, you’ll pay attention to this, so that you will still manage to be HOT, GORGEOUS, HEALTHY and FUN when you DO get older… like forty years from now. So listen up.

Last week, I talked about all those things that start happening when you get older and start to go through menopause (from here on out, called Orchids). Similar to puberty (now called Daisies), you’ll start to have some erratic mood swings and acne breakouts.  You’ll suffer water retention and weight gain (particularly if you do hormone replacement therapy) and your hair and skin will change texture and consistency. BLECH!!!  I know.  And the worst of it?  You could be at risk for dementia! So here is what you can do. Watch the video below. It will answer all of your questions. Be sure to post comments below, and if you have any remaining questions, I will be sure to answer them (just make sure you request to be notified when your comments are posted or you’ll have to keep checking back).

If your browser won’t show you the above video, then watch it here.

Tune in next time for Things Guys Secretly Wish About Women.

Love you people!!!!!!! Mmmmphhhhuuuhhhhh!!!

xoxo,

Ms. Cheevious

PS) Please check out and comment on the related vlog on YouTube here if you’d like.

*This youtube channel is NOT to be confused with my Ms. Cheevious channel, which has more comedic funny videos.  You will be visiting the Lisa Jey Davis vlog channel if you follow the above link to YouTube.

———————-

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All Blog content copyright 2012, LISA JEY DAVIS aka Ms. Cheevious

Filed Under: Aging, Anti-stress, Chicky Fun, Daisies, Death and Dying, Diet, Girls Gone Wild, Health & Wellness, Meditation, Menopause, Orchids, Puberty, Stress, Uncategorized, Weight Loss Tagged With: aging, daisies, Lisa Jey Davis, menopause, orchids, puberty

Sh*t Girls Say — If They’re Ms. Cheevious

March 15, 2012 by MsCheevious

I’ll admit. I had to do it. I cannot watch something like “Shit Girls Say,” which is so hysterically funny without thinking, ‘HOLY CRAP that sounds an awful lot like a sweeter version of me!’ I’m sure that’s what was intended.

But I think I’m pretty funny. Is that bad?  I’m pretty harmless in my narcissistic view of my hilariousness. I simply crack myself up. What harm is there in that? I’m sure I turn some heads as I walk past folks in the market or on the street chuckling out loud at something I just said out loud to myself, but who is it hurting? That’s all I wanna’ know.  A little nuttiness never hurt anyone.  As a matter of fact, my man M.C. Nugget and I make a habit of exhibiting nutty and weird behavior on a regular basis.

Before I get rolling on that whole tangent, let me get to the point of this post.  I think you will really laugh (or at the very least, mildly chuckle) at the first clip I have for you – my muse, if you will, when it came to putting together “Shit Girls Say if They’re Ms. Cheevious”… And then you’ll see that very video (and either laugh, cry, or mildly chuckle).

The difference between the two is that the first was professionally produced.  It was also scripted and performed by a dude in a chick’s wig, who is very funny, alongside a star – like – um, JULIETTE LEWIS.  You’ll know her when you see her.

My clip is REAL SHIT. Things I said without being prompted, which were caught on video.

After you’ve enjoyed both of these short clips, I have a little project we can ALL participate in.

I’d like for you to help me write a new video via the COMMENTS section on this post, which WILL be scripted and performed by a few of my best and hottest gal pals (also actresses). It will be called Shit Ms. Cheevious Girls say.  If we get some great phrases here, when it is up on YouTube, I will enable ads on the video, and any proceeds made from those ads we’ll donate to a charity of our choice (we’ll vote on that when the time comes).

Watch, Enjoy, and put your thinking caps on.  I’ll throw out some suggestions after the clips to get the ball rolling in your brains.

SHIT GIRLS SAY, EPISODE 1

If you can’t see the above Youtube window in your browser, please click here

SHIT GIRLS SAY – IF THEY’RE MS. CHEEVIOUS

Again, if you can’t view the above video window in your browser, click here

BEFORE YOU COMMENT:

Now, in terms of coming up with comments.  This video will be scripted, and I’d like to use my “Girls” as some inspiration.  By that I mean the girls in my paintings, which you can see some of them here on my website (left border) or those I will actually use are here: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150193003761734.291906.119215056733&type=3.

The “Girls” all have names, and I’d like to give them personalities.  If you’re inclined feel free to specify who would “say” your comment.  I’ll hand pick some gorgeous girlfriends who are also actresses to represent some of the girls and act these out.  Here are some ideas that have been thrown around for Shit Ms. Cheevious Girls Say, and remember:  You MUST think Ms. Cheevious-ly.  And think about all areas of life – health, fitness, medical, career, leisure, entertainment.  Whatever!  And remember:  Ms. Cheevious girls are EMPOWERED, INDEPENDENT, LOVING, FUN girls.  So here are just a couple to get you started!

1.  Does this dress make me look too skinny?

2. Do you remember that thingy that I wanted to BLOG about?

3. O.M.G. Girlfriend!!!!

4. AAAAAAAHHHHHH (screaming & jumping up and down because they find JAMESON’S or Grey Goose Vodka on sale at the grocery store).

5. Dude your boobs look GOOD in that!

If you want to see more specific phrases that we are USING, I’m compiling them on a private note on Facebook, and can share them upon request.  Just ask! Now put your minds into high gear, and let’s all create a really FANTASTIC video, shall we?  You will get credit (you’ll be credited as you are listed here on the blog, if we use your quote) in the video credits, so get rolling.  Put those ultra witty, razor sharp, naughty, nice, sweet, funny thoughts down below!  I can’t wait!

Then, boys and girls, stay tuned next time for something entirely different.

Love you people!!!!! Mmmmmmppppphhhuuuhhhh!!!!

xoxo,

Ms. Cheevious

———————-

Don’t Be Shy! Leave A Reply!

Register to receive my blog posts via email on the Ms. Cheevious Home page. (Be sure to confirm when you receive your email!)

BECOME ONE OF MY MANY FOLLOWERS (MWAH HA HA HA) IN ALL OF THESE GREAT PLACES:

FB Like Tumblr
Twitter     FB      Videos  Tumblr

You can also follow my man M.C. Nugget on Twitter

All Blog content copyright 2012, LISA JEY DAVIS aka Ms. Cheevious

Filed Under: Blogroll, Chicky Fun, Dating, Friends, Friendship, Girls Gone Wild, Girls Night Out, Hip Chicks, Living Life, Relationships, Sex, Sheer Utter Silliness, Single Women, Uncategorized, Work and Career Tagged With: Juliette Lewis, Ms. Cheevious, Ms. Cheevious Girls, Shit Girls Say

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