Three days, three men

[Floomps into your cubicle with her coffee.] You would not believe what all I’ve done this weekend. [Looks for boss.] Is he in yet?

See, in real life this scenario would not be true, because my actual boss, Thousandman, is always in before me. He’s very no-nonsense and industrious. You can imagine the joy he has supervising me.

I did a lot this weekend, including juggle three men, although not literally, because have you met my upper body strength? “Well, these pickles are apparently just gonna live in this jar, forever unopened.”


Here is not a man, and not anyone I juggled. And yet she informed my weekend. This is Slutty Pancakes, whom you’ve met here before. She’s moving to California, here she comes, right back where she started from (which is on fact not true. She’s from here), and she had a little going-away bash Friday. On my way into the bar, I met a creamsicle-colored cat who was like an orange version of Lily, except she ran to me all friendly and then swatted at me.

“You are the reason people don’t like cats,” I warned her as I stalked off. “keeeep on walkin’, bitz!” I heard her meep at me.



It was the kind of bar dogs come to. And hi, I’m June, I’m not sure we’ve met but I enjoy a bar that allows dogs. Insert disparaging remark about m’looks here.


On Saturday afternoon, I had a first date, and also it appears I only attend places with concrete floors.

Yes, I’ve been dating another person casually, but in my attempts to not be an anxious attacher–a thing I’m still obsessed with reading about and learning and so on, and go ahead and ask me about anxiously attached people; I now have my PhD in it–I’m abstaining from putting my eggs in one basket. So Saturday I put my eggs in the basket of a very tall photographer originally from LA-ish, who it turns out lives two miles from me. We spent several hours extolling the virtues of both our homes, past and present, and he is our people. You guys would like him.

“I get a mention, don’t I?” he asked. Then we got into a discussion on what his blog name would be. “Why not just use my name?” he asked. So if I continue seeing him, we’ll be using his actual name and also his social security number.


Then on Saturday night, I got up with another guy, who is a bass player, and I’d like to tell you this is my first bass player but it isn’t. I have dated so many musicians that at this point they could form a band and even have, like, Pete Best types to back them up should they be unable to perform their duties. Although Pete Best came first. Whatever.

I’ve dated

  • lead singers,
  • Marvin the guitarist,
  • another guitarist in college (I mean, he’s not in college now. You know what I mean),
  • two bass players,
  • three drummers (drummers are big with me)
  • and a triangle player.

I made up the triangle player part and — oh! I forgot another guitarist I dated for like half a second. What the hell was the name of his band? It was like Why Ask Why or something. Oh god, now he’ll Google his band one day and be all, THAT bitch. I’d forgotten her.

Oh my god, anyway.

The point is, this guy is a bass player who mentioned his daughter is in college majoring in, like, bass playing (is that a thing?) as well, and at one point he got up to go to the bathroom and she was playing in another room. How hilarious is that? I mean, okay, you’re not reaching for your needle and thread to stitch your sides, but really, it was pretty cool. And that is what that picture is of 11,000 paragraphs ago, is her band playing while we lurked in the doorway.

I got home pretty early, really, and when I did, Steely Dan did his safari impression, where he leaps onto my “jeep” and I play a terrified passenger.

steelee be a lion. feeer steeleee.

In fact, I asked the bass player what kind of music he liked and he said, “Steely Dan.” You can imagine my delight in announcing who my cat was.


Here’s your old pal June, in pajamas at 9:00 on a Saturday. I just met the bass player for drinks, and by drinks I mean green tea, as he had to, you know, play bass somewhere. You can see I may have popped in to Ulta after, as they were having a sale and Dear Kaye, Oh my GOD I waited till I was out of makeup. And I didn’t even buy all I wanted, such as new mascara or eye shadow. Am still digging out dregs of the old stuff.

I did buy new lipstick, and DON’T EVEN ASK me what kind, because I’d taken my small, sexy purse with me and didn’t have reading glasses, so I couldn’t read a FUCKING THING at Ulta and had no idea the names of anything I got. But I purchased cuticle cream, a pinky nude lipstick that I like, because I don’t know about you but I buy a lot of pinky nudes and come home to discover I’ve once again purchased the corpse lips look for myself, but this time it’s just the right shade. Anyway, I know someone’s gonna bug me about what kind, like we have the same pigment or something so whatever I bought is going to be the answer to your lipstick prayers, but the damn thing is still in my sexy date purse and I don’t wish to get up to OH HANG ON. GOD.

Urban Decay. Sheer Liar.

What an unfriendly name.

I also bought deodorant and razors, because I’m full of fun.

On Sunday, Ned asked me if I wanted to see a movie. Okay, he doesn’t really count as a date. But he paid. So.


And he also bought me ice cream. Back there is a sign saying, You aren’t supposed to have ice cream here. Don’t eat it here. Cut it out, guys. This is for the pretentious coffee shop.

Well, then get some goddamn TABLES for the ICE CREAM place, then. Anyway, rebel rebel, you tore your dress. And you know what a rule-follower I am. Maybe you don’t. But I get very nervous about not following the rules. But Ned said oh, please. I’m president of a company. I’ll sit where I want.

Okay, then.

We saw some movie where Kristen Stewart is a medium. I think Ned just wanted to torture me with Kristen Stewart. Also, every movie Ned ever took me to has had a vomit scene, and this one had a barfing ghost. I am not even kidding you.

In summary, I saw men thrice and had sex nonce. Which, go, appealing June.

Okay, I gotta go. It’s time for work and I’m in a robe, and unless they’ve changed my title to Elder, is not gonna work.

Your personal friend,


65 thoughts on “Three days, three men

  1. Um. Musicians are so sexy. I’ve dated my fair share and, in my experience, they drip with passion. I especially love drummers and bassists. They’ve got the rhythm thing down!
    (fans self).
    Slutty Pancakes is hot!
    (fans self).


  2. Also, I love Slutty Pancakes’ pinkish hair. That’s the perfect color for her skin tone/eyes/coloring! Very attractive on her.


  3. OK, I was a music major and have a degree in music, and have never dated a musician! What’s up with that? Well, my ex sings with a chorus, and has a great voice. That’s it.

    Also, you can get a Bachelor in Music Performance: Bass (just like I have a Bachelor in Music Performance: Piano and Voice), which, unless your talent is one in a million or you have big connections, that Bachelor’s degree will be very useful in your job at McDonald’s. I’ve been a Legal Secretary for 28 years, with a music performance degree. I am also a church organist and play for weddings and sing, but trust me…they do not pay the bills!


  4. I was really surprised someone got mad at another for detailing her sexual encounters. It didn’t sound at all like bragging to me! We’re all fans of June and should consider each other somewhat friends and be happy for each other.


  5. First name last name social credit card number security code and billing address. You can trust us. I can’t get the image of juggling men out of my head. I am sure I’ll have some sort of weird dream about it tonight.


    1. Maybe he could include a credit card number with the security code from the back. We could all get some cute new shoes!


      1. Well don’t I look silly. I read your comment as social security and missed the credit card part. Everyone can move along now. Nothing to see here. Hangs red faced head down and shuffles off.

        Liked by 1 person

  6. Gwen Stefani wore mile high red heels on The Voice last week. They were so cute with the jeans and vest she had on. I tried to fucking google (or google fucking) what kind the heels were and came across this heel primer. I am so confused now, Ima go in the corner, curl up and suck my thumb.


      1. I love spool heels/King Louie heels. They look tall and heel-y, but are really stable because they flare back out at the bottom. I kind of wish they’d come back in style.

        Every time I see stilettos, I’m reminded when my sister and I were kids and on vacation in Florida with our parents sometime in the 60s. We were outside playing somewhere and a huge spider ran toward us. My Mom took one of her stilettos off and impaled the spider. My Mom was bad-ass! The spider seemed dog-sized at the time, although I’m sure that was because I was only 4 years old or so.


  7. When you are president of the company, you have a keen responsibility to keep that company going, so you show up for work, on a regular basis, and actually do work, to keep said company going. Also, too, if you are CFO pretty much the same.

    SD, official greeter at the Gardens household.

    I would LOVE to be able to wear cute shoes like that, but at my age comfort is the goal and not falling, off my shoes.


  8. Love the shoes. How high are the heels? I am cleaning out my closets and found the cutest pair of shoes which I have worn maybe once and I want to wear them but have no where to go. FML!

    I dated a guy in college who was in a band. He drove a 1960s Ford station wagon with flames painted on the side and was really dreamy. I found out after a couple of months of seeing this really cute singer in a rock and roll band that the only reason he was dating me was because I made him look tall. He was 5’5″ and I was 4’11”. We were the tinies. Anyway I was heartbroken because he met my friend who was 5’9″ who stole his heart and evidently did it for him sexually. I would come home to find them in compromising positions all over the house. She confided in me that he was hung like a horse and was very proficient in all things oral. Guess I missed out.

    Then later in life I dated a man who played the piano and the saxophone. He was gorgeous and I was smitten. We lasted less than a month when I found out that while he was very much into me his wife wasn’t into him being into me.

    That is the extent of my musicians. I always wanted to date a drummer but never did.


  9. I so wish I could wear heels like that. I’m like a newborn deer trying to walk when I put on heels. Your nude shoes match your nude lips.


  10. Does air guitarists count toward your boyfriend list, Joob? And lead singer, sexy! Did he look like Prince or Lenny Kravitz or 1990s Eddie Vedder?? Did he strut like Freddie Mercury? Okay, haven’t had too much coffee yet so that’s about all the sexy lead singer references I can think of. Give me a couple glasses of wine and I’m sure I can curate a mighty fine list. I’ve always wanted to use the word curate. [crosses that off bucket list]


      1. Well I am mad as hell that you posted you had multiple orgasms! I mean really if you are going to come in here a rub in it our collective faces the least you can do is give the details Harlequin Romance style. You know heaving bosoms and throbbing members.

        Liked by 1 person

  11. I don’t own WordPress, so I pretended to be a reader, went on Facebook, found my blog link, got fired, clicked through, opened up that read more thing, and scrolled through the comments till I saw Leave a Reply and here I am.


        1. Wow, someone pissed in your cheerios this morning. I really hope your day gets better. I’m having a shitty day too but I’m choosing not to take it out anonymously on random people on the Internet.

          Liked by 1 person

      1. Quite the opposite. My day is going great. I just don’t think it was very kind of you to rub it in someone’s face about having sex and multiple orgasms when she was sighing about being alone. Why did you feel the need to share that if it wasn’t to be boastful? I, for one, don’t care if you had the best sex of your life this weekend.

        Liked by 1 person

        1. I find a lot of comments on here obnoxious. I don’t feel the need to anonymously point out those obnoxious comments and make the commenter feel like shit. I choose to be an adult and simply ignore those comments.


      2. I guess I’m a rude bitch too Laura Lee because I saw no slight in your comment either. Not having sex is not uncommon, it’s not like Dancer said she didn’t have enough money to eat this weekend and your reply was that you not only ate like a glutton, but you went to the grocery store and then walked right to the trash and threw that food away!

        BTW, were any of those orgasms via received oral, worm fucking ex-husband be damned?!

        Liked by 2 people

        1. I do wonder if the backlash would have been less severe if I had posted it as its own comment instead of as a reply to dancer.

          Also, would people be losing their shit if June announced that she had multiple orgasms this weekend while dancer spent the weekend sexually deprived? I think not. Granted this is her blog but really, we’re talking about sex, not the ability to feed our families as GreenInOC so wonderfully pointed out.


      3. In reply to anonymous… Technically she didn’t say she rubbed anything in anyone’s face, I just inferred that from multiple orgasms. I could not resist that joke for the life of me. And GOOD FOR YOU, Laura Lee!

        Liked by 1 person

      4. Just arrived and was going to JOKINGLY say “well, now I have to hate L Tap…..”, because jealous. But now that all hell has broken loose and people are cranky, I will not say that, and also, the fact that L Tap calls herself L Tap convinces me that Laura Lee is delightful, and I wouldn’t hate her no matter what jealousy I had!

        So go on with your bad multiple Oing self, L Tap!


  12. Men in bands are hot, just saying.
    Are you on Ultras mailing list? Last month they had awesome deals, everyday something was half off or buy one get one free. I wonder if the deals are different and we can share coupons, my mind is now blown.


  13. Oh, you know what? If I go directly to this here bl-website, I get the comments. If I come here from the Facebook link, no comment option.


  14. Dear Joooon,
    There is no place to comment from my phone. Please have Ned, President of the Company, check on this. ASAP.

    Love this post! Does SD jump on all cars? Or just yours?


      1. Would if I could, lady. Would if I could. It’s not there on the mobile version – at least not on my phone. I have a big Menu button. Which just makes me hungry.

        Liked by 1 person

    1. Really not ever. In fact, I’m the one who says things like, You’re president of the company. Just don’t show up. Who’s gonna care? And this is why he’s the president of things and I am not.

      Liked by 1 person

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