Mason Jar Salads | For The Non-Domestic Women

MASON JAR SALADS – you should know cooking and meal prep bores the living sh*t out of me.

I cook my food on high as to save me time and never under appreciate take-out.

I do love eating clean though which is why I found an e-a-s-y hack to incorporate more veggies.

The one biggest regret abo


Jealousy In Relationships & Hating Hot Women?

Jealousy in relationships dries up vaginas and is a huge boner killer.

& sadly it’s a common flaw in most relationships.

All the dating articles and common society rules advise that the cure for jealousy in relationships is AVOIDING the fact you may find another human being attractive again. Don’t talk about exes – it could strike jealousy knowing that your partner has in fact touched another person’s private parts. Don’t check other people out – when you find your true soulmate and embrace monogamy it creates a barrier from ever feeling sexual towards anyone else . Don’t flirt or make jokes with the opposite sex – WHORE. Don’t ever confess to your partner if you happen to slip and check out a hottie – sometimes honesty isn’t the best policy and things are better left under the rug.


Intermittent Fasting Results: Worth Starving?

A quick breakdown of my intermittent fasting results for the past six-ishs months.

Fasting as a whole is super beneficial for health and fatloss reasons. I have never been one who could handle a 48 hr fast OR juice cleanse (kill me) as they make me go to a really dark place. Which is why I would have never guessed that I would EVER write a post on “intermittent fasting results” as I love food more than life itself. And only allowing myself a small time frame to


The Biggest & Hottest Turn Ons For Guys

You guys asked for it, I am delivering more sex & relationship posts.

And today’s topic is : what are turn ons for guys?!

Before you self indulge in reading another post about weird sex fetishes that turn guys on in bed, let’s just start with the easy basics before you start sucking on pinky toes.

That is what Aaron (my boyfriend) and I intend to answer today. I decided to do another guest post with him because you guys eat up and some are slightly confused by our uncensored relationship. Also, he likes to claim himself as a dating coach after reading 10 dating development books and getting his d*ck wet during his hoe streak. So prepare yourself for that. I will go first in order to set the mood and slowly warm you up for Aaron’s opinions as they aren’t always said in the most tactful ways. In my relationship with him and most men, you have to read between the lines.

So let’s get started.

A Woman’s Perspective of Turn On For Guys


Simply put, you need to have your sh*t together. If you look like you live out of your car and can’t manage to get a grip on this thing called adulthood, it’s a huge boner killer. When men say they want a hot a$$ chic (remember read between the lines or forever be disappointed), they want a women who is HUGE on self-care. That means a balance of beauty, wellness, fitness, confidence, and business. You got to have the whole package or consider yourself another girl on the list.

I assume most women who search “the top turn ons for guys” have a guy in mind (at least I did). If you want to erase your competition, it’s going to take more than a black g-string and some big hair. Once the the erection goes down, the logical side of men starts to analyze you apart. No man gets a chubby from a  woman that embodies the meaning of train wreck. Which is why it’s a perfect excuse to pamper yourself (spray tans, facials, personal trainers, makeup, clothes, business courses, or anything revolving around “me time”) and the results will include more looks your way.


No one gives a rat a$$ about your body dysmorphia in bed – men or women. I had one guy who didn’t want to take his shirt off before sex and I had to awkwardly give him forced compliments to motivate him to taking his f*cking clothes off! I could feel his mommy issues surfacing as the mood was dwindling.

The best trick in bed isn’t screaming like a banshee or whispering cringe lines from a porno, the best turn on is being body confident. We all have body insecurities, but in the bedroom and in the beginning stages of dating is not the time to show him the pimple on your back you have been trying to pop for three years.

Now since I have been in a long term relationship, I make Aaron listen to my in-depth sagas about my double chin and the tiny mole on my back. I locked this b*tch down and with that comes the great responsibility of hearing about any of my body insecurities at any given moment. BUT, the number one rule I have is to shut the f*ck up about it in bed. Don’t kill the mood.

When you take care of yourself (see point above), it’s a whole lot easier to go into the bedroom with body confidence. A bloated stomach from nightly runs to 7-11 and copious amounts of cheese isn’t going to make me eager to take my clothes off. The reason I feel confident in the bedroom is because of what I do outside of it. The hours spent shopping for sexy outfits, various makeup tutorials, tracking my macros, kickboxing, lifting, beauty oils,….it all adds up.


The only fashion advice I would advice is to mix it up from time to time. Guys love having fantasies of banging several variations of women. Thank god for porn when I am not feeling it at night and want to wear my robe with a pair of mix-matched socks. BUT, it’s always fun and keeps the flame alive when I role play with my clothes. A hot school girl OR slutty librarian OR basic bitch OR ghetto chic OR dominating business woman OR….the possibilities are endless. I don’t just have to only succumb to wearing lingerie in the bedroom. I can go out with a hot pair of reading glasses OR sexy booties OR tight jeans OR a leopa


Setting Goals For My Side Hustle & Hating My 9-5

2017 was the year I launched my side hustle – this extremely unfiltered blog. As we ended out the year, I had been doing a lot of planning in regards to busting my a$$ in order to make a living blogging in 2018. When people talk about their fast track to getting sponsorships and thousands of viewers, I haven’t even nailed down my instagram theme yet and just invested all my play money this year into re-vamping my website probably about ten times. It’s been a slow progress between finding time to blog with a corporate job and having my brand evolve/change over time.

I am not going to lie that sometimes it was absolute torture watching all these women on social media partnering up with my favorite brands, driving in luxury cars, traveling the world, getting clothes for free, working on their own terms, and having an amazing community of people to collaborate with. If I am being super judgy (which comes naturally), what about those girls that really bring NO content or personality to the influencer realm, but have millions of followers and money because of a boob job?! You all know I love me some nice titties, but has anyone else thought they personally had way MORE potential and assets to bring to the table?

OH, and I also am stuck in a room for 8 hours wasting my life away not living my life purpose. While other influencers are paying $20 for a salad at Whole Foods and setting their own schedules, I am using my lunch break to stand in line to use the office microwave to heat up my $3 pasta pack. My coworkers are shocked anytime I smile at work which should tell you something.

ALSO, I believed there was little time between work/another side hustle/exercise/relationships to work on my blog and then I got frustrated for having “enough time” to work on my main side hustle.

Are you f*cking annoyed yet by my whining? Yeah, me too.

That was my “a little too honest” feelings and besides it being super C-U-N-T-Y, it honestly felt good last month to let out some steam and be honest with myself. I let myself have my moment and then forced Aaron to listen to my 3 hour saga about why I hated certain bloggers and why I am better than anyone else and blah blah blah. When I was done with the b*tch fit, that is where I had gained some mental clarity and was ready to create a game plan.

Because guess what?! No one gives a f*ck about my first world blogging problems.

Overall, my blog has grown immensely and progressed in several ways. There has been a lot of positive changes over the course of this year that I won’t bore you with by going into detail. Although I worked hard on my blog in 2017, I lacked CONSISTENCY & KNOWLEDGE. It was time to get real with myself. If I was was such a great blogger, why would there only be one blog post a month and the same underbooob shot?

Does that scream success?

I am sure you all have goals (I hope not f*cking resolutions) that you want to hit in 2018 and with that comes mapping out a strategic plan. I am the QUEEN of to-do lists and routines and analyzing everything for my business which is why I wanted to share my strategy for goal setting. Goal setting for side hustles especially can be overwhelming and I have done my fair share of making it complicated. The goal is to keep it simple for 2018.


The biggest reasons my side hustles have failed in the past is OVERWHELM. I just kept frantically jumping from one project to another always feeling that I never did enough and was always behind. I know I am not alone when a goal can turn into a sh*t show followed by a burn-out phase that is then masked with shots of tequila. In order to not be that person who seems to write a depressing post every new year on how they didn’t accomplish their goals and life dealing them a bad hand, it’s motivation enough to get more strategic with goal setting.

That is why mapping out my six months has been transformational for my a-n-x-i-e-t-y. All that overwhelm OR not knowing where to start OR focusing on unimportant tasks OR jumping ahead is GONE. It’s super simple and took me about 20 minutes.

1.) got a piece of paper out and wrote everything I wanted to accomplish for the next six months.

2.) wrote out the first six months on my phone in the


Heartbreak, Tequila, Stupidity, & More Tequila

WASSUP B*TCHES- ready to talk about my super unconventional way of coping with heartbreak.

I have googled millions of “getting past heartbreak” searches and even was so desperate at one point to hire a dating coach just to figure out what was wrong with me for becoming infatuated with men who lacked looks and personality. You can’t pay your rent and have f*cked up teeth, maybe even emotionally closed off? DO ME.

Let’s just say none of my dating education from google and anyomous coaches helped numb the heartbreak. I still was a psychotic b*tch storaging various tequila bottles in my room looking up his family history tree trying to find some closure.

There is something I learned along the way when it comes to experiencing heartbreak myself and watching my other friends go through it – there is no clean and proper way you can overcome it. At least for me, it was a raging caging sh*t show. Like how did I end up driving down his street four times hoping to get a glance at him riding in his truck? Did I really just pay $650 dollars for a dating expert to tell me that he was f*cked-up & not worth my time? Do I have to cry every time I watch romance movies? Who the f*ck am I turning into?

In hindsight, I have grown emotionally a LOT since the days of having no dating game and getting wet when a guy ghosts me for a week. BUT, it would still be emotionally hard if I broke up with my current significant other, who is sort of alright and texts me back (so progress)!

I figured it was time to take a break from my self-righteous rants and to show some vulnerability. There is so much dating advice on how to properly step by step get through a breakup. On a logical level, the advice sounds like a fantastic plan. BUT, that’s the sh*t part about heartbreaks in that they are all emotional. I am super logical, barely cry at all, hate hugging, would rather kill myself than display emotion, hate anything domestic, and probably should have been born with a penis :


Today I am putting myself out on the line and giving you the real, honest version of how I used to go through heartbreak.

(you’re welcome)


If only others knew how hardcore I can stalk someone during a heartbreak, I would have had a restraining order a LONG time ago. I mean “casually” eating at his favorite spots, driving past his work on a daily basis, scouting for his truck whenever I went anywhere public, getting gas near his house, and trying to “randomly” bump into him was practically my third job at the time. I really hated myself every time I finished stalking as much as someone gets that sinking gut feeling after hooking up with a sketchy dude. It’s not healthy, but felt right in the moment – is that how meth-heads feel?


Ok, we all know that everyone says that you should block your ex on social media because it will hurt too much to have a constant reminder that he is moving on with his life and potentially inside other vaginas. BUT, I f*cking thrived off refreshing his page OVER and OVER and OVER again. I really enjoyed the pain and crying myself to sleep with his facebook cover photo. I was way too prideful to text him for an update on his life so I resorted to stalking his posts since 2003.

The plus side of following each other on social media was that I could plan my feed to exactly replicate his “dream girl” and show him those erotic nipples he was missing in his life. I obsessed over creating the illusion that I love being single when in reality I was feeling that extra loneliness as I ate chipotle for dinner the fifth time that week. If I do say so myself, I was on point with my insta and facebook…even more than I am now. I would throw in some seductive selfies while balancing it out with a family photo then leading to a girl’s night out and then showing some skin of me stripper squatting in my workout video. All the captions screaming “SINGLE P*SSY”. I was great at hiding my pain and the fact that I would spend 5 hours in the shower hyperventalating to Adele.


Tequila – my go-to choice to this day. We have gone through a lot together and had some very ugly moments. I feel like heartbreak was the biggest excuse for me to get


The Harsh Realities About Instagram Models

Before anyone thinks I consider myself a booming instagram model, I don’t…like not even close. I consider any woman who freely shows off her body on the internet and then asks people to click a link in her bio as an instagram model. I don’t care how many followers she has at the current moment.

Am I personally getting free trips to Dubai and getting paid to wear lingerie? I f*cking wish, but no. I wanted to scream with excitement when I hit 1,000 followers which most freshman girls in high school think is pathetic. Although I am not the hottest sh*t to follow on instagram (yet?), I have worked with quite a few photographers now and dabbled in modeling in order to create dope content for my blog. I have also received quite an earful on all the rules regarding instagram modeling.

…instagram models are competitive as f*ck and with that comes a lot of fakeness, we all know that. I saw a girl just the other day giving a promo code for men’s underwear, even though it threw her brand completely off. I get that you are trying to make a dollar just like everyone else, but f*ck that was so cringe to watch. Don’t even get me started on the whole fit tea sponsorship while sporting a waist trainer that makes me want to emotionally eat my feelings. We all know that stereotypical sh*t that instagram models do on the surface. You don’t have to shoot topless photos right next to people doing their family photos (sorryyyy) to state the obvious.

That is why I wanted to give you guys a sneak peek into an insider’s perspective of joining the cult of instagram models. What is it really like being in front of the camera and putting scandalous photos on the internet?! I thought that you just throw your top off, strike a pose, and hit post. It’s not that simple and there is so much PRESSURE to play by the rules of FAKENESS. Being someone who never likes to be told what to do and being put in a box, this is another self-righteous rant of how I have stopped giving a f*ck to society’s rules.


I thought the whole eating disorder and body dysmorphia issues were only associated with runway models who live off cucumbers and dick to fit into a size zero. I quickly realized that instagram models sporting that curvy or thicc look also face the same issues. Since I hadn’t had much experience in front of the camera except tilting the shit out of my head and putting my hands on my hips, it was a nightmare trying to create sexy photos when all I could accentuate is strechmarks and my double chin. It was a humbling experience to say the least.

I have met many instagram models in my life who go down this rabbit hole of starving themselves and staring in the mirror for hours crying about their thigh gap – it takes over their world. I did that sh*t when I was around fourteen, and I don’t plan on going back to starving myself for two weeks to impress a pubescent boy. The whole facade of dieting, photoshop, and pretending to look a certain way bores me.

That’s the harsh reality about getting in front of the camera, it can be self-defeating at times. I spend hours on my hair and perfecting my brows only to look like the hunchback of notre dame. It’s flawed and messy. It can take a million shots to get the right one. It’s not always glamorous. The thing about modeling is that I couldn’t let it ruin my self-esteem. I let myself have my judgy moments, but then I move the f*ck on. I also allow my photoshoots as motivation to stay on top of my nutrition and fitness regimens during the work week (check out details here). It’s not a walk in the park, but it has gotten immensely better as I have cleaned up my physique and learned my best angles.



I thought I would give you guys a behind the scenes look of what anyone can do with photoshop. When I got the photo back with my waist looking insanely tiny, I instantly asked the photographer to revert it back to the original photo. I thought I was the hot sh* t becau


Internet Nazis & Creating A Target Audience

TARGET AUDIENCE – it’s sounds like a boring term, but it’s really given me f*cking confidence when it comes to my brand.

I have various readers on my blog daily : some are obsessed with it, some hate it, some can live without it and there are even some who envy it. Despite the hundreds of people who have looked at my website, my goal is to attract and focus on my target audience. Or in other words, I am looking for my b*tchessssss.

I am not your typical fashion/lifestyle blogger. I don’t write one sentence blog posts along the lines of “omg i love this jacket and my lovelies who follow me. xoxo”. I would rather work at Home Depot (hate that f*cking place) than be a overly-nice-fake-boring blogger. I promote a bitch lifestyle which vibes with women who can talk shit + speak the truth + grab life by the balls.

MY ISSUE: I wasn’t creating content that attracted and engaged that type of target audience.

I was spending way too much time overly explaining myself and even writing defensive posts directed towards my blog nazis. I had a vague idea of my target audience which was leading to me having anxiety and overthinking a joke because I knew “so and so” would find it offensive. Constantly in panic mode when writing posts and preparing for the gates of hell to open up if god forbid I created content that was not super vanilla.

Finally, I had a f*cking wake-up call that I was putting my time and energy into the wrong people (duhhhh). I am not here to connect with conservative moms who find my blog appalling according to scriptural doctrine OR overly sensitive women who take every joke literally OR people who are here just to pick a fight to cope with their emo life.

By getting clear on defining my target audience to a T and coming up with strategies to finding more of them, I was able to put my foot on the gas pedal to being 100% authentic and inappropriate.


The beauty about having a clear target audience is weeding out the people that quite frankly f*cking suck. Those people for me are the ones who sensitivity level gets provoked by the word “d*ck”, feeling that my opinion is personally attacking their belief system, caddy comments that start with “sorry I just had to tell you that…”, and forgetting that I am just another blonde blogging about my basic life – there is no need to get worked up over a narcissistic personal blog. Keep scrolling b*tches.

When I put so much pride and hard work into my blog, it was frustrating hitting this wall of only conversing with STUPID. That is where the need to really define my ideal b*tch (reader) became important to me – a woman that I would enjoy connecting with over the internet and gets me. I asked myself these questions to creating a fantasy bff :

  • name?
  • age?
  • location?
  • $$ make?
  • current occupation?
  • career goal?
  • favorite food?
  • social media preferences?
  • relationship status?
  • personality?
  • height?
  • body type?
  • rent or own?
  • diet?
  • small or large group of friends?
  • favorite drink?
  • likes to travel?
  • prefer blog or video or both?
  • makeup or natural?
  • favorite tv show?
  • why does she visit my site?
  • why does she like me as a person?

I got very DETAILED about my ideal b*tch and stored it in the notes section on my iPhone.

It sounds really depressing and like a coping mechanism for the lack of friends in my life, but I swear successful business leaders have given me this advice countless times. By imagining and creating an ideal b*tch, it allows for me to create content that attracts those kind of readers. There is no longer this sinking gut feeling of what people will think when talking about banging men on the first date because I used to be a whore (*sarcasm*…and you would know that if are my ideal b*tch).

Just by becoming more clear on my target audience, the content I am producing is way more vulgar and ballsy. I am also getting an outpour of messages from women who love it and have taken the time out of their day to explain exactly why they appreciate my con


I Started Going Braless & Actually Love It

I used to hate when I was with women who were braless fanatics. They would wear some plunging neck-line, get hammered off one sip of wine, and apologize every second for their tits falling out of some $200 bodysuit. I get it, you are feeling yourself and sh*t. I love dressing like a slut too.

BUT, is showing nipple and letting everyone know the pigmentation of my areola worth it?

My answer now is F*CK YES.

There is a backstory to why I had a complicated relationship with going braless in the past. I have worn shorts that ride so far up my a** they have probably shown my labia, but I was just too good for showing some nipple. It’s a backwards way of thinking and I really don’t understand myself either. 

BUT, this was my reasoning, I felt like you had to have the right boobs to pull off going braless – don’t lie to me and tell me you don’t feel the same way. Yes everyone is beautiful in their own way, but some people weren’t meant to go braless. That is just the harsh truth in my opinion. I constantly doubted that my boobs were able to hold their own weight without support – currently as size D. And before you loath me for complaining about big boobs, let me give you some insight. Big boobs and gravity are not friends, in fact they are like Kanye and Taylor – they can never just f*cking get along.

So while all these hot girls from the itty bitty community are jumping up and down to “bodak yellow” at the club braless, I imagined I would be found trying to pick up my sad puppies from off the floor and try not to have one plop out on the dance floor. I am all for embracing my sexuality and showing off my body, but big boobs falling out of clothing looks like I would be willing to suck anyone’s dick in the bar bathroom – no thanks.

OK so despite all my baggage with going braless, I accidentally tried it the other day when shopping for a skimpy outfit. It is a “universal” romper or something fancy that allowed them to charge me $60 for it, but it held my tits up better than a bra. I lost my braless virginity. It all makes sense why women are burning their bras, taking photos of flashing their tits toward the ocean, the fad with nipple piercings, and being obsessed with sheer crop tops. It’s a whole new world to me, and it was a beautiful experience unlike when I actually lost my real virginity.

What I decided to do was drag Aaron downtown and have him take various photos of me sporting this romper. After about an hour of caressing my body and hair in front of senior couples (awkward), I was got this shot featured in this post that made me want to rant about how I would like to be welcome to the braless community despite my harsh judgements in the past.


I have been on a high from this whole braless thing. Although I am not ready to let my armpit hair grow and write a novel on mother earth, I am really digging this natural look. Aaron was whining about how he hasn’t unclamped a bra in a while, but he can go jerk off in the bathroom to some video of another girl doing it for all I care. There are so many options for women with small and big tits that give more support than all of our god damn $1,000 investment in Victoria Secret.


Ok, so I had this genius idea to change my profile pic on Facebook to the picture featured in this post (TITTIES). I message personal trainers for work on Facebook, and I wasn’t getting any hits with my super virginistic photo. I needed to spice things up because my job depended on it, and my new photo has been a crazy hit! Despite my success, there had to be someone that wanted to educate me on covering up and how my mother will feel about it.

B*tches please, my mother should be more scarred by my blog where I talk openly about a guy ejaculating on my foot and say f*ck every other second. No mother holds her baby in her arms wishing for her child to label herself a “b*tch blogger” and overshare her life when she gets older. I am sure the 56,978 photo of my tits is nothing new to her at this point.

Also, I knew I would be taking a risk posting a scandalous photo on Facebook where all my family and past church members would be ready to start giving me


We Had Sex On The First Date…

When I say I will talk about anything & have the whole world publicly view it online, I’m not joking. I’ve created worse content – like posting a heartbreak video on Youtube the day after a breakup OR filming myself for an entire year having seizures on the bar (aka a person who sucks at CrossFit). So shooting a lingerie photo in the woods on a college campus while freshman are being shown a visual tour & then writing a post about sex on the first date for all my relatives to read really doesn’t constitute as embarrassing at this point. In fact, it’s the new normalcy.

I know this is such a taboo topic that is awkward to read if you actually know me because some of you are already thinking about some of the guys I have slept with in the past. I am truly sorry to bring up such scarring memories of too much facial hair and dad bods, it will be a little painful for both of us. BUT, I am willing to take that sacrifice because (a) I love talking about sex and (b) I wasn’t always so god damn chill about sex on the first date.

Just because I tagged my girlfriends in every “be a hoe and f*ck like a stripper” meme didn’t mean I was comfortable or accepting of sex on the first date. In fact, I would say it was a shit show trying to play it cool in front of my friends swapping sex stories but driving home crying wondering if I was destined to be a single lady in her robe stuffing her feelings with chips and vibrators.

Growing up, there was a lot of unsolicited advice from older women in my life (most that were holding onto their marriage by a thread and probably having stale sex… if any). Coming from a very strict religious upbringing, it’s no surprise that exploring my sexuality or letting go of these stigmas around sex felt wrong. If you had a three hour lecture on how to never allow yourself or others to touch your vagina until you’re married, you would be walking around with some sexual baggage too! I heard it time and time again that sex on the first date would lead me down a rabbit hole of being pregnant at 17 & god-loving men thinking I’m a whore (hypocritical much?).

If I can stop being a sarcastic bitch for five seconds though, I think it’s extremely sad that a lot of women grow up feeling guilt and shame about their sexuality. This is one of the biggest reasons I decided to openly talk about sex and relationships on my blog. I document my experiences and share my past vulnerabilities about sex because I know it’s hard when you had so many years of people shoving down your throat their hang-ups about sex.

Guys aren’t that complicated and sex on the first date doesn’t have to be complicated either.

You should see some women’s reactions when the “how we met” story gets narrated by my boyfriend who tells everyone I basically jumped his pants the first night – their eyes get all bugged eye while doing that awkward laugh. Truth is I had ZERO regrets when we hooked up the first night. If you read my blog, you will come to realize I really don’t give a f*ck. There is no longer this weird stigma or identity attached to if or when someone inserts their junk inside me.

After finally understanding sex on a logical term, I found the solution. It was stupidly simple too.

Don’t wait to have sex.

Disclaimer : I am not saying I would shack up with the guy on the first date if I didn’t feel comfortable OR there were creepy vibes OR he dried up my lady parts. My point is that there should be no timeline on when I should have sex. If it happens on the first date or the third, it doesn’t f*cking matter. No guilt. No shame. Just fun. I will explain more down below.

Extra Disclaimer : I don’t go on dates to make friends. We are either going to have sex or were not. My motto is “if we aren’t banging, then were aren’t dating”. I personally would wait no longer than three dates, but that is just me. More info below.

Extra Extra Disclaimer : This is an article based on my personal opinions when it comes to sex on the first date when I am looking for a relationship. I will do another post on hook-ups and casual flings. Getting to the point sometime soon, I promise.