“Don’t be a Dick” – Ghandi
“Send Nudes, Not Hate” – Thomas Jefferson
“Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope” – Sun Tzu

And my favorite…
“Don’t believe everything you read on the internet” – Abe Lincoln

Recently I came across what seems like a real quote on the internet and I’m running with it.
“The ugliest thing I have ever seen, is a human being without compassion” – H. Milne

Henri Milne was a French Zoologist in the 1800s. He wrote papers for the French Academy of Sciences and in his career named 5 new species of lizards. If he did actually say this then I think he hit the nail on the head. If it was someone else who said it and you know who it was then let me know, otherwise the credit is going to Henri. #VIVALAHENRI

Translated into 2019-speak…without compassion, you’re fucked.

My family has a Thanksgiving tradition that has helped my girls grow to be compassionate young women. When they were very little, I talked about what compassion means, how to be compassionate and how to show compassion. Mind you this was sprinkled into their daily diet of Dora the Explorer, Handy Manny, chasing the dog around the house and pulling all the labels off of our canned food. So needless to say, I wasn’t really expecting a speech about morality and empathy to keep their attention. To be fair, even to an adult it’s a really tough concept to explain. So I switched gears and instead of talking about compassion, I decided to show them what compassion looks like in our daily lives.

My husband and I wanted to find specific things we could do together as a family that would be fun and engaging for our young children. If I’m being truly honest, when my kids were little if I could find an activity for the family that didn’t require us all leaving the house, that was a win in my book. So one chilly November many years ago we started to “adopt” a turkey for Thanksgiving. Living in a suburban area I obviously wasn’t going to find one and take one home, although there is something mesmerizing about a creature that looks like its scrotum is hanging off its face.

For many years now, we all gather around the computer and show a little compassion that any 19^th century Zoologist would be proud of.  We each pick our own turkey (right online) and someone else cares for our “new member of the family” who is enjoying their life on the farm and not on someone’s dinner table.

After lots of research, I found Farm Sanctuary which operates a 275 acre sanctuary in Watkins Glen, New York and a 26 acre sanctuary in Los Angeles, California. They rescue, rehabilitate and provide care for hundreds of animals who were rescued from stockyards, factory farms and slaughterhouses. Each year, we go to their website and pick our turkey from the pictures and bios they provide. This year my daughter with a soft spot for “Frozen” is adopting Elsa and my musical daughter chose Hank Williams. My hubby wanted to adopt Pamela “The Lover” because he said she was the hot one. After I reminded him that jokes like that won’t be doing him any favors in the bedroom he reconsidered and agreed to adopt the whole flock.

Compassion isn’t always about writing a check or the subject of a silly meme…it’s a state of mind. Compassion is a verb. Kindness, caring and a willingness to help others should be something we all should be teaching and learning every day.

I’m going to leave you with 3 final quotes that I think sums it all up.

“If you want others to be happy, practice compassion. If you want to be happy, practice compassion.” – Dalai Lama

“Compassion is the chief law of human existence.” – Fyodor Dostoyevsky

“Living Clean and Dirty is my favorite website and newsletter.  You’d be an idiot not to subscribe” – Helen Keller

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If you’re like me, you read that in Don LaFontaine’s voice.  Did I lose you with that reference? Basically, if you’ve ever seen a movie trailer in your life then you have heard his voice.  He was the “In A World…” guy who narrated 5,000 movie trailers over the past 40 years.  There’s your rare super-random fact of the day.

Anyway, let me get back to my story…

This isn’t a sappy romance story, this isn’t a mystery thriller, and it sure as hell isn’t a story about a future utopia where computers cater to our every whim.  Quite the opposite, this is a story of the day the water came in and the lights went out.

Was that dramatic enough? Are you compelled to keep reading? Of course it was and of course you are.  Now to be fair, this wasn’t the worst day I’ve ever had. There’s currently a 3-way tie in that category and if we were to give them titles they would be “And this is why we always leave the house wearing panties”, “Funny, this almost tastes like pee” and “Jesus Dad, close the door, no, I’m not masturbating”.

Maybe I should refer to this particular day as a “momentous” day. It was the day that made me embrace gratitude and that one simple shift changed everything. EVERYTHING. So I live on Long Island (emphasis on Island) and a few years back we experienced mother nature’s equivalent to a fist in the ass…while she was wearing a watch…and some sort of jeweled bracelet…and possibly a fitbit. Rather than refer to it as “The Great Fisting of 2012” let’s be slightly more mature and refer to it as “Getting Sandy-ed”. We went from living our everyday New York life to a page right out of Amish Homes & Gardens (“In A World where the Amish published a weekly lifestyle magazine…”).

No power, no heat/hot water, no cars, no internet, no porn, nothing. 27 inches of water came rushing through my house and made it virtually unlivable in a matter of hours. The next morning we stood amidst the wreckage of our flooded house, ruined cars and decimated neighborhood; I did the only thing that a rational person would do in this situation…I cried. I cried every single day, my poor hubby was trying to keep everyone and everything together and I sobbed like a baby. I cried like Sally Field in Steel Magnolias after Shelby died.  I cried like Drew Barrymore after getting egged in Never Been Kissed. I cried like everyone in the audience watching Bangkok Dangerous starring of course, Nicolas Cage.

My entire world was turned upside down, I was so overwhelmed and just felt like things would never be normal again. How would we ever get our lives (and our house) back to normal?  I would have lucid moments of getting my shit back together but became so disappointed with myself the water works would start all over again. I was a mess.

About a week later, I had learned my neighbor had set up a makeshift kitchen in her house and there was a strong possibility there would be coffee. I brushed my teeth, which represented the only form of hygiene that my current lifestyle would allow and promised myself I wouldn’t cry.  I made it across the street and almost through her front door before the tears started coming.  She will always have a special place in my heart for the advice she gave me that day.  I walked into her home like a sobbing hot mess, she could clearly see the pain on my face and knew I wasn’t coping with our situation.  She poured me a paper cup full of freshly brewed coffee, looked me in the eye and spoke the words that changed my life.  “Oh for fuck’s sake enough already. Stop crying.”

My first thought was “Bitch, give me my coffee and you’re a shitty friend. I’ll “C” “U” Next Tuesday” (that’s a classy way of calling someone a cunt, Mom raised me right). After I had my first sip of morning Java in almost 170 hours I started to see the wisdom in her kind words.  She was right, all this crying bullshit was getting me was a puffy face. When you don’t shower for a week and you’re living in Amish-pocalypse, red swollen eyes just makes everything worse. That night in early November of 2012 when I went to bed I was still filthy and unshowered but it was the first night of my new “shift” towards gratitude. I closed my eyes tight (which made things worse because I could hear the scratching of mice from somewhere in the nightmare that was my house) and concentrated. All I had to do was find one thing I was grateful for that day. I needed to sift through all the bullshit, all the frustration and all the feelings of hopelessness and find a single positive thing to grab on to.  For a caffeine junkie like me the choice was easy, I was grateful for that cup of coffee.

…The next day I was grateful that the FEMA representative came to our house

…The day after I was grateful that my friend drove in from Westchester just to pick up my laundry for me.

…The day after that I was grateful that our auto insurance processed our claim and scheduled a time to tow away our cars.

You get the idea.

It took a long time to get our lives back to normal, but we did.  In many ways our home is even better than it was before and so is my outlook on the world. Hey, there’s something else to be grateful for!

Every night I’ve ALWAYS found at least one thing to be grateful for. Some days it’s simple like the cup of coffee or a convenient parking spot. Other days it’s more “serious” like the day my father died. What could I be grateful for that night? I was grateful that he was my dad and I had him in my life to play silly games with me as a child, teach me how to balance a checkbook as a teen and walk me down the aisle as a bride to be. There’s ALWAYS something to be grateful for. What I love about gratitude is that you can be grateful anytime, anywhere, and it’s always free of charge. Studies have shown that there are tons of health benefits to practicing gratitude like improving your physical health, making you more empathetic, helping you to sleep better, increasing your self-esteem and of course it’s awesome for your mental health. I read that on the internet so it’s obviously true.

My girls have even gotten in on the act as “what are you grateful for” is part of our bedtime routine.  I do have to admit that their gratefuls tend to be a little jarring sometimes. “My tummy has been hurting me for like 2 days and tonight I finally pooped, so I feel a ton better.”  That wasn’t one of theirs that was actually mine but seriously I felt a lot better.  So one of my daughters hit me with “I’m grateful for this girl in school who isn’t very nice to me”. I was confused why this fell into the grateful category but she went on “She’s not nice to a lot of my friends either and I’m grateful because she shows me the kind of person I don’t want to be” (Gets you right in the feels, doesn’t it).  Not to be outdone by her sister, my other daughter tells me “Well, I’m grateful that there is a Hell and that Hitler is in it burning for all eternity”.  I told her that there might not be a Hell, but there is a Cleveland which is pretty close and maybe he’s there.

So that’s today’s story.  Will it change the world? No, probably not but sprinkling in a little daily gratitude will definitely change the way you look at it.  Oh don’t get me wrong…I totally have shitty days and sometimes it’s a struggle to come up with my daily gratitude, but I always find something.  I believe we can all find something big or small to be grateful for each day.  And just remember, at the end of the day if you find yourself struggling for your moment of gratitude, sometimes just making it to the end of the day is as gratitude-worthy as that “2012 Apocalypse-Blend” cup of coffee in a paper cup.

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When it comes to parenting, my husband has a primary goal. “It’s our job as parents to teach you how to exist in society”. I personally think keeping them out of the adult film industry should rank slightly higher but I get where he’s coming from. All the life lessons we struggled through to get where we are now are the greatest gifts we can give to our children. Sure, there’s plenty they have to experience on their own but any leg up we can give them, in my opinion, is worth it. Now to be fair, just like 80s fashion choices you can’t have the good without some of the bad (acid wash jeans, really?). They certainly pick up our bad habits and “colorful” language but hopefully they pick up more of what we have to offer that’s, let’s say, “socially appropriate”.

As a mom I think for the most part I have my shit together. Oh don’t get me wrong, I get frustrated and lose it just like the next sleep-deprived mom out there. I’ve mouthed the words “Karma’s going to get you someday” when my kid’s back was turned but I try to keep my mini meltdowns on the DL. As an avid yoga fan, when one of my kids start pushing all the wrong buttons I remind myself to breathe. My yoga instructor calls it “Take 5”. Five breaths in and 5 breaths out – to the count of 5. It calms my inner demon and probably keeps Child Services out of my house. Five In Five Out…FIFO.

While both of my kids present hubby and me with unique challenges, it’s my younger daughter who definitely needs more “managing”.   Her spirit animal is apparently the Hulk and honestly if she was born first she would probably be an only child.   I love her to the moon and back, but sometimes I want to move to the moon just to get a break from her.

They say patience is a virtue, they also say cleanliness is a virtue and she doesn’t have that one either. She will go from zero to frustrated almost instantly and change from Norman Rockwell to Norman Bates. How could such a cute little girl turn into such a witch? My first thought obviously was to blame myself. Did I scream too much in childbirth? Was I demanding too much? Is this how Hitler’s mother felt? She would literally blow her stack right in front of me. I tried ignoring her screaming meltdowns watching in horror expecting her head to spin around and vomit pea soup…that didn’t help. I’ve taken away her iPad and her computer…that didn’t help either. I took away every single stuffed animal and toy in her room, but then guiltily left her one to sleep with. She brought it into my bedroom, threw it on the floor and said “you forgot one” (true story)…so obviously none of this was working. To make things worse, her temper was becoming contagious and was turning me into a banshee where I would start screaming back at her. Five In Five Out…FIFO was the only thing that kept me sane.

Nothing was working and although my good natured mommy friends assured me this was just a stage, I knew that I couldn’t listen to this shit for years or worse…let it continue and have a teenaged Attila the Hun under my roof. My only saving grace was that she just did it for an audience of one…me. No one else knew my dark little secret…”Hi, my name is Ellen and I am the worst mother in existence”.

As some of you unfortunately know all the words to this familiar song, this started to change. Her inner-Hulk started to reveal itself on playdates and at school. To be fair she wasn’t a nuclear meltdown 24/7, but when she did pop she popped big. The stares, the begging (from me) and then I got the dreaded phone call… her teacher wanted to have a meeting with my husband and me. I figured we weren’t walking in to an award ceremony for “Best Parents Ever” but you can always hope (I made room on the mantle just in case we were taking home some kind of trophy, but I think you see where this is going).   Apparently she becomes so frustrated in school at the other kids, she will scream at them until they burst into tears. Now mind you, she wasn’t a sociopath, meaning she didn’t smile while they cried, she felt bad but just couldn’t control it. I sat there and patiently listened to her teacher ask if there were problems at home or any life changes which could be affecting her, to which there were none. My only thoughts were “I’m failing…worst parent ever”. Five In Five Out…FIFO

Now back to me…I’m not a screamer but I get overwhelmed like everyone else and I’m grateful for my yoga outlet and what it teaches me, Five In Five Out…FIFO. I’m taking care of me, my hubby, my mom, two kids and two doggies and there’s just not enough hours in the day. I want to scream bloody murder and lose my shit too, but I don’t (well, mostly). I’ve learned that when life gives you lemons there isn’t always an opportunity to make lemonade.   Sometimes life takes those lemons and squirts you in the eyes and rubs them in your cuts. You have to keep your shit together and keep on living. It all sounds great, right? If only life was as easy as some blogger makes it out to be. My life isn’t perfect and neither is my daughter’s…neither is anyone’s. Most of the bad shit in life is out of our control and the only thing we can do is choose how we react to it. I recently started teaching “little Attila” that nope…life isn’t fair and hell is other people. Like her dad constantly points out to them, you need to be able to function in society even when society sucks.

I’ve started bringing my little rage monster into the FIFO fold and we’ve seen a dramatic change for the better. She’s starting to recognize when things are making her frustrated and before it gets out of hand she starts to calm herself down.   I’ve seen her in mid-conversation with her sister; she stops, closes her eyes and start deep breathing.

As happy endings go (no hubby, not that kind) this sounds like a great one. I’d love to tell you that she has completely changed her ways and turned into a shining beacon of joy and happiness. As Americans we love our stories to have happy endings where all the problems are solved, the hero wins and the villain has been defeated. Unfortunately in real life sometimes the definition of a win is no one ended up in the hospital and the cops were not at my house.

My little short-fused firecracker has certainly mellowed out when she reached double digits (almost in time for teen-dom, hooray!). She practices her FIFO and the meetings with her teachers are now more focused on her love for history and her disdain for math. While definitely not at a helicopter-mom level I still keep one Bionic Woman ear on her play dates, and I’m happy to share that she is growing into a conscientious and thoughtful young woman. I’m sure, like anyone else, she’ll have her outbursts and meltdowns and that’s OK.   My hubby says “that’s just the cost of doing business”. I have no idea what that’s supposed to mean, but he says it with such an air of wisdom that I just nod and smile (hey what can I say…he’s pretty).

I look forward to a long life filled with offering unrequested pearls of wisdom and nuggets of advice to my girls. Late night talks about a broken heart over a quart of ice cream, helping fill out college applications and reassuring a hormonal pregnant mom-to-be that she’s going to do just fine…these are all hopefully in my future. As parents we have a lot to teach our kids and as a mom of girls I feel like I have a specific responsibility in raising these potential leaders of tomorrow. The benefits of teaching both of my kids about FIFO is twofold. I’m helping them develop the coping mechanisms they’ll need throughout their lives as well as practicing myself which I think makes me a better mom and gets us all a little closer to our Happy Ending (that one’s for you hubby).

Five In Five Out…FIFO

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Goals: The result or achievement toward which effort is directed; aim; end
Selfish: Devoted to or caring only for oneself; concerned primarily with one’s own interests, benefits, welfare, etc., regardless of others.
Liquor: How a male animal cleans his mate (ok, that one might be a bit of a stretch, but I was on a roll)

Well, so now that 2016 has finished kicking our
ass I’m looking forward to my life in 2017.

We lost Prince but we got Batman vs Superman.
We lost Zsa Zsa but we got Zika.
We lost Bowie but we got killer clowns.
We lost Gene Wilder but we got Pokemon Go.
We lost The Good Wife but we got Fuller house
We lost Muhammad Ali but we got the Ice Bucket Challenge.

Yup, pretty fucking awful.

And so here we are…2017.

Last year, or maybe the last two years, became my Year of Fear. The idea was simple: do one thing every day that scares you. I jumped off a cliff into a lake, I parallel parked, I wore dangly earrings with a pair of jeans, and I started saying yes to things that made me uncomfortable. Some were big. Some were ridiculously small. But they all counted.

To me, 2016 was the slap. Now I want 2017 to be the hug.

I’m taking off my superhero cape and wrapping myself in a warm blanket of selfishness. Actually, let’s stop calling it selfishness. Let’s call it self-care. It’s not about me, me, me. It’s about putting me first once in a while. That’s the goal. The Year of Me.

Let me unpack this a little more…most all of us have been on a plane and listened to the flight attendants give their safety speech. Try to get past the visual of them blowing up the life-vest like a little pinky sized pee-pee…what do they always say?

“Put your oxygen mask on first, before helping others”.

It sounds backwards, but it makes perfect sense. Most of us are hardwired to put everyone else’s needs ahead of our own. But if we’re running on empty, we’re not much help to anybody.

It’s like when I hear, “A happy mother equals a happy child.” Personally, I’m still convinced high-speed internet has something to do with it too. But just because a saying is a little cheesy doesn’t make it wrong.

Take these “Just Because…” gems, for example:

“Just because I’m looking at you doesn’t mean I’m listening”
“Just because it’s handmade doesn’t mean it’s cheap”
“Just because I can’t sing doesn’t mean I won’t sing”
“Just because it’s a hole, doesn’t mean you should stick your finger in it” (Fine, I might have made that one up, but it still holds true. Sorry hubby)

I’m not sure when being selfish became synonymous with being a douchebag, but here we are. My answer to this is in 2017 is I’m declaring myself the supreme leader of Douchebagistan and the borders are open to all who want to embrace the lifestyle with me. Who says that being selfish makes you a bitch? That makes about as much sense as a dentist trying to have a conversation with me while she’s got a couple of metal sticks in my mouth poking and prodding.

Let’s be clear, as much as I’d like The Year of Me to consist of nothing but Netflix and an all-wine diet, I still live in the real world. I have 2 kids (3 if you count the hubby), 2 dogs, my mom and all the other responsibilities that I treasure, but that doesn’t mean that me and my needs always need to take a backseat.

I vow to myself to stop putting shit off. I love to read, sleep late, experiment in the kitchen, take a candlelit bath, and simply have an hour where nobody needs anything from me. It’s time to stop pushing me to the bottom of the list or God help us, off the list. It’s easy to lose a bit of ourselves along the way, and to that I say No Fucking More!

2017 “The Year of Me”. You can find memes galore on the internet about “Ain’t nobody got time for that”. Well then call me Dr. Nobody, because I’m making time for that…who’s with me?

The post Welcome to Douchebagistan, Population: ME! appeared first on Living Clean and Dirty.

As I’m sure you can tell by now, I love to have a good laugh.  But I should preface that with the fact that the material needs to be funny.  Back in my single days a guy gave me this card on Valentine’s Day.  Now, granted I took some artistic liberties with the card itself because the original is still probably in police evidence “just in case”, but the sentiment is the same.  He wasn’t funny, he was super creepy and he always looked like he needed a shower (not in the Ethan Hawke hot way, but more like Howard Hughes at the end when he was pissing in jars).  He would have been better off if the card had said “Happy Valentine’s Day – Clearly you’re a low-shooter and I love that about you.”  Ugh! Gross!!  …OK, now back to our blog.

The true history of Valentine’s Day can differ depending on who you ask.  While most historians agree that it’s actually St. Valentine that we celebrate on the 14^th of February, the details tend to be a little sketchy.  My favorite story is about an imprisoned Saint named Valentine who sent a love letter to the daughter of his jailer before his death and signed it “From Your Valentine”.  That’s right baby…caged heat.  While I’m sure Valentine’s Day in today’s prisons must be the butt of a lot of jokes, we have an imprisoned man condemned to death to thank for an abundance of greeting cards, chocolate, flowers and last minute shopping by forgetful husbands.

Now I’m sure that my husband’s version of the story would revolve around a celebration of the great St. Vagine, and we should spend the day on our knees pleasing it.  Knowing him, this would yield a lot of empty wine bottles and me asking on Facebook for a good chiropractor the next day.  Honestly we aren’t big gift givers in my house.  Holidays and anniversaries are great excuses to turn off the rest of the world and spend time with the ones we love.  Basically if we are wrapping up shit in the middle of the night when everyone else is asleep it’s because the dog took a dump in the living room and we are trying to destroy the evidence.  But when we do need/want something we just get it and surprise the person even more because well…it’s a no-reason-Tuesday.  More than anything we love giving the gift of experience (in the case of my two kids) or the gift of health for my hubby and me. But, hubby is only human, and there are certain landmark holidays where he starts hinting around about what sort of gift I would like.

So with February 14^th fast approaching, here’s my Top 10 lists of eco-friendly Valentine’s Day gifts.  The first list is gifts for the ladies.  These can be from your fella or even better, a gift you get yourself on Black Saturday.  But don’t worry fellas; I made a top 10 gift list for you too.

VALENTINE’S DAY TOP 10 GIFTS FOR WOMEN

1) Massage: My hubby and I both get monthly massages. It’s a great way to turn off and de-stress since we both sit in chairs for a gazillion hours a day.  Your parenting skills could use the time for a quick recharge and your muscles will thank you.  Neither of us get the “Happy Ending” kind but I guess that could relax you too, this is a judgment free blog.

2) Guided Meditation Class: My hubby encourages me to go twice a month.  There’s a local place by me who donates part of the proceeds to a local animal shelter.  I usually fall asleep half way through (last time I was even sitting up) but it’s relaxing and I love the meditation practice.  It’s like sex, sure you can do it alone, but sometimes it’s nice to have someone there walking you through it.

3) Facials: I treat myself to a once a month facial (sigh, please don’t laugh).  Every time I say “facial” in my house my hubby laughs uncontrollably.  I just learned (after getting my first one) that it’s called a facial when a man treats your face like a sperm bank and he’s making a deposit.  I love getting a facial (the spa kind) because it’s awesome for my poor dehydrated skin and I can’t believe how good it feels.  Thankfully I never got the other facial because if a guy tried to leave his mess all over my face he’d end up with fewer balls than Lance Armstrong.

4) Buy One Organic Decadent Thing:  Hubby is going to laugh at this one and say something supportive like “Oh, if you wanted to treat yourself with organic corn you could have just asked”.  Well, in this case I was thinking on a grander scale.  This past year for the holidays I’ve been eyeing some VERY expensive Coyuchi organic towels.  Doesn’t sound so glamorous at first, but you won’t hear me complain when I wrap myself up in one of these after a nice hot bath.

5) Take a Class: Do this as a couple or do it alone.  Hell, when I was single and in my 20s I bought myself a gift every V-Day (still love these cool earrings I got one year, I know me so well) so I took a cooking class in Brooklyn and still use what I learned there every day.  And if cooking isn’t your thing, try another class, a few years back I took a knitting class and this year I’m learning to sew.

6) Send Flowers:  While certainly not original, sending flowers is the “black iron skillet” of the gift giving world.  It’s a simple phone call, nearly impossible to mess up and a timeless gift.  If this is your choice, be sure to take advantage of the “tulips” (two-lips) jokes and also try sending eco-friendly flowers (www.organicbouquet.com) or even a plant.

7) Write a Heart Felt Letter:  Back before texting, sexting, email and even AIM we used to write letters…you know, with a pen.  Skip the stupid card, because you probably waited too long anyway and now all that’s left are the crappy cards with sad puppies or Batman on them.  It’s WAY more touching if you just write how you feel and if you feel inclined you can draw a little picture too…you don’t even have to rhyme (but if you can, that’s nice)

8) Symbolically Find Your Valentine’s Animal Match and Donate:  You can go to: www.worldwildlife.org and pick what animal best describes your Valentine and symbolically adopt that animal.  We love that we’re giving to one of our favorite charities, my kids love doing it and probably most important…our dogs love it because they hate competition.

9) Think Vintage: Growing up we called jewelry and clothes like this “old” but now it’s “chic”.  It looks like there’s a huge resurgence of what I like to call “the classics”, you know…like granny panties.  Check out vintage stores, consignment shops or etsy for tons of repurposed items.  What someone else doesn’t use is your treasure.

10) Make a Mix Tape: OK, technically I was thinking of a Mix-Playlist, but there’s something about Bonnie Tyler, Simply Red and Berlin that just screams Sony Walkman to me.  Make her feel young again and make her a playlist on her I-Fillintheblank.  Pick some of her favorite music from when she was young and fresh filled with hope that she can listen to now while she’s cleaning up after your kids and doing your laundry and making your dinner…sorry, a little projecting there.  Be a mensch and play that playlist on your stereo, take her hand and ask her to dance.

If you continue to scroll down you will see the men’s list, hope this helps and have a great V-Day.

VALENTINE’S DAY TOP 10 GIFTS FOR MEN

1. Sex
2. Sex
3. Bake him cookies
4. Sex
5. Blowjob
6. Sex
7. Sex
8. Sex
9. Sex
10. Sex and then let him finish the cookies (may be substituted for Blowjob)

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