Monday, October 29, 2007

Dating tips from Phish.

I had a hell of a weekend. It was very long. And alcohol fuelled. I haven't had the lovely combo of a weekend off, and an excess pay week in a loooong time.

So I went out an let my hair down. Long story short, I hooked up with someone, and gave them my number, expecting to meet up with him sometime during the week and finish what we started.

Good plan huh? One teensy, tiny problem. I bumped into his randomly in Westfield last night. And we went for coffee. Then we went and sat in the park for a bit and watched the cats, and talked. About his ex. Alot. Then he told me about every girl he's been with since then.
  • Guys, take note. Talking about your ex is not good first date conversation. Going into detail about the whole relationship, not a good idea.
I changed the subject. We began discussing nice areas in Sydney. I asked if he'd ever been to the mountains. He said no, we'd have to go up there some time.
  • Guys, take note. First dates are for assessing chemistry, not planning futures.
Then he proceeds to tell me that you cannot trust Asians. In a very, very derogatory way. My roomie is Chinese, her boyfriend is Vietnamese. Several of my close friends at work are Asian. Fufuxake! My best friend is a gay black Asian.

I don't do prejudice. Full stop. Exclamation mark, exclamation mark, exclamation mark.
  • Guys, take note. If you want to have sex with a girl, be flexible with your statements. She may not be flexible with hers, and you want to keep her happy.
He walked me halfway home, then we said goodbye. As I walked off he called me his love, several times.
  • Guys, take note. DO NOT DO THIS!!!!
Have you ever heard the saying 'running screaming for the hills'? Well, I'm in the hills, and I'm still screaming.

Seriously, I'd prefer SR, in all of his indifferent c*ntishness, to this clingy, racist bugger.

Sunday, October 28, 2007

This is for any comments about the smut post below. Just so we don't interrupt the story.


Its Smut weekend. And I haven't got anything written. My bad. Its not that I've been uninspired. In fact, I've been mightily inspired, and I will be again in a few days. But right now I have neither the time or the inclination to write it.

So I'll leave it up to you guys. Each reader gets to submit a bit. And you can do what you will with it. But don't hog the storyline, please keep your additions to a paragraph if you can.

I'll begin.


A storm was rolling in. Wendy glanced up. What a perfect end to the night. Her date was a bust. There was no conversation. No chemistry. She doubted if he could even get it up if she had gone home with him. Which he didn't offer. She couldn't beleive she didn't wear underwear for the night. Bastard was a waste of her time.

He seemed nice when they met a t the party. Tall, quiet but gentlemanly. She must have been pretty drunk. He wasn't tall. He wasn't quiet either. Oh no, he was absolutely silent. She would have wondered if he was a mute, but his staccato answers guaranteed otherwise. An he was certainly not gentlemanly. He spent the entire evening staring at her tits, and then made her pay the bill!

She shivered out of anger, frustration and cold. The wind eddied leaves around her ankles, and they scratched as they twisted against her skin. Mark was going to pick her up. Sweet, reliable Mark. But she'd opted to walk away from her lecherous date and have Mark pick her up out on the street. She wondered how long he'd be. It began to rain.

She ducked under a tree and hoped Mark would show up before the lightning moved in too. The drops fell thick and fast. She was well and truly soaked, cold and shivering, before headlights turned into the street.


Over to you guys. Do what you will.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

I need a patch!

Seriously peoples. A patch for the internet. So that next time it dies, I won't be left completely, and utterly cut off.

My wireless internet adapter died. It worked when I went to bed on Monday, but didn't when I got home from work on Tuesday. On closer inspection it would seem that the entire card (in the casing) had been disconnected from the pins. In short, it had been dropped. And I was the sucker who had to fork out $60 to replace it, so I could update my beloved blog.

35 emails. 7 scrabble games to play. 150 blogs. 34+ comments. One tag (that I know of).

In three days! Kitty, do you know you've done 15 posts in that amount of time! If they make the internet patch, I'll send you a spare in case your internet dies too!


Where did sitemeter go? Its been three days and I jumped on to check my stats, and it's gone away. I was almost at 15000 visits!

Is anyone else having this problem?


I wore make up to work today. I rarely wear make up. And I was talking to one of the guys and he literally did a double take, without the look away bit. Funniest thing I've seen in ages!


I shopped tonight. I have new jammies. Funky ones of course. Just a singlet and boxer combo, but oh-so cute!

And a new bra set. And a hot new top. In a size down from what I normally buy there.


There's a storm moving in so I should go. Catch y'all laterz.

Monday, October 22, 2007

So I made a mistake. Duh. Who didn't see it coming really? Hooking up with SR again was a disaster waiting to happen. He's a cunt. Always has been, and still is. I think I should walk away before I get hurt.

Ah well, at least I got laid out of it eh? If I hadn't the next guy may have ended up with several broken bones by the end of the night.

Next Friday will be the last time I see Iceman, unless we swap numbers. So Friday will either see me tired but elated, or tired, hungover and depressed.

Sunday, October 21, 2007

I got tagged-ed. And since I have nothing better to do, I present to you "5 things that I do, did or like that I’m proud of, but that others may think are totally lame. Plus, I get to tag 5 people to do the same."

I got this one from Redhead in the city.

  1. I talk to myself. Constantly. Complete with facial expressions and hand gestures. Sometimes, when I'm bored, I will go to my bedroom, sit in front of the mirror, and just have a conversation.
  2. I can get through a week on minimal sleep. I seem to pride myself in just how hard I can push myself. But when the weekend comes around, I can sleep competitively. I worked last weekend. So I have two weeks of sleep deprivation to catch up on.
  3. I love to bake, but I'm obsessed with losing weight. So I either throw it out as soon as it comes out of the oven, or I take it to work, feed my co-workers and THEN either give the remainder to someone, or throw them out.
  4. I have quite a big DVD collection. But I haven't even seen half of them.
  5. I find it hard to connect with people. I can go out and make new friends very quickly, but I can't make a long term connection.
So there you have it. Proof that I'm lame. How sad for me. And now I have to tag five people to do this. I pick Kelly, Redcap, Scorpy, Ima and Josh.

Thursday, October 18, 2007

Obsessed much?

I'm watching the Lion King. At the moment actually. And I gotta say, it STILL rocks! I havent' seen it in years and years, but I can still remember most of the dialogue off the top of my head.

The Lion King was the big disney movie when I was a kid. And I was completely nuts over it. I had all the Disney Adventures magazines that had anything to remotely do with it. I had bought books from the school book club. I didn't just want to know about the plot, I wanted to know how it was made and all the special effects, the WORKS. And this was all BEFORE I even saw the movie.

I even had pictures of Jonathon Taylor Thomas from before his balls dropped, because he was the voice of Simba.

You think its sad, there's more. I collected the magazines. Yep. All the way up to number eighty something. Seriously, $5 a week for eighty weeks. Maybe it wasn't eighty. But I guarantee it was over 50. Thats a hell of a long time to collect a magazine. And I still have the little cut out characters that you could move around a diorama. I even copied them and made more, a whole pride.

Scar was my favourite character. I loved the way he moved and the way he spoke. He was dangerous. I like bad boys.

The lion roars always send shivers down my spine. Especially the scene where Nala and Simba fight in the jungle, and the end scene where he claims his territory at the end by roaring off pride rock.

But it got me thinking, the good old animated kids movie has died. I blame Toy Story. Don't get me wrong, I love the new animations, but you can't beat the classic oldies. After Lion King they made Pocahontas and that was about it. I wish they'd make another like it.

What was your favourite movie as a kid?

Monday, October 15, 2007


Oh, there are good times. Working with animals is a truly humbling experience, they always keep you on your toes and they'll teach you lessons that you thought you knew. You can meet some animals that will make you laugh, and some that will make you cry.

I remember Milo. Milo was a ginger tomcat that was at the clinic for something. It was when I'd first started on work experience, and I don't remember what it was exactly. I think it was kidney problems. Anyway, he wasn't eating or drinking while he was there. At the end of the day I was exhausted. One of the vet nurses suggested I take Milo into the consult room and give him a change to walk around.

Of course, when we got in there, the cat ignored me. I sat on the floor and petted him. He tolerated it, but didn't seek it when I stopped. I tried to entice him to eat, but he wouldn't. I talked to him the entire time. He wandered to a far corner of the room.

I called him. And he looked at me. I called him again. I could pretty much see him thinking, 'She knows me. I don't remember her, but I must know her.' He came back to me and sought a pat. Then he wandered off to his food bowl and began to eat. Unfortunately this was about 5 minutes before the consult room needed to be vacated.

Milo taught me the value of calling animals (and people) by name. Learning that lesson early on has made my career so much easier. No matter what you're doing, if you refer to an uncooperative patient by name, it does calm them, and it also gives you credibility in their eyes.

And yes, after that Milo did eat while he was hospitalised with us, and he continued to improve.

Dog was an entire male German Shepherd. He was a stray who had been hit by a car and bought in by the council. He hadn't been cared for. He had flea allergy so badly that he'd lost about 60-70% of his coat, and what remained was very sparse. He was in desperate need of a bath and a good feed. Though he was huge.

We could only keep Dog for a week before euthanasia. We put him on anti inflammatories and pain killers. Luckily he hadn't sustained any major injuries. Right from the beginning he was gorgeous. He was injured, uncomfortable, scared and in a place that he didn't know and that smelt of chemicals and fear. And he handled beautifully. I had no fear giving him his medication. You could open his mouth and play with his teeth, or take his temperature, pull his ears (within reason), and your biggest danger would be getting licked too much. Or farted on.

We put him outside in the courtyard, and he'd sit there all day. We went out there to hang washing, and he'd be all excited. We'd give him pats and if we sat on the ground, he'd sit on you, yet he never jumped. We'd walk other dogs out there and he'd just look at them calmly. We took another male dog out there to wash, and he sat there the entire time and watched us. He would howl if he got lonely, but he'd shut up when told to. I wanted to take him home.

His seven days passed. And on D-day we all stood around and shuffled our feet every time he was mentioned. We didn't want to do it. We'd all gotten attached to him. Fortunately the vets got called out to a horse emergency about half an hour before we closed. So he was left. The next day I got a call from a friend of the woman who originally hit him. She was interested in taking him. I did the leg work. I got all the drugs ready and labelled for him. She had to pay for them, but we gave them to her at cost price.

She arrived on a rainy Friday afternoon, at about 3pm. Which was our busiest time. Fortunately we had an extra nurse on at the time. I handed Dog over to her and grinned as she walked out. A few minutes later I wandered out the back to clean up, and through the courtyard fence I noticed they were still out there. I walked out to see if she needed a hand. She tried to put him the cab of her ute, but all he wanted to do was sit on her lap!

We ended up putting him in the back. It took us a while, and by the time we got him secured, I was soaked. The legs of my jeans were waterlogged about a foot high. But it was worth it. As cheesy as it sounds, I didn't notice how wet and cold I was, for the warm glow inside.

Then there was Henry. Henry was a wild crow that we used to feed. Now he was a character and a half. He found us when he was very young. He used to eat out of our hands and sit quite comfortably next to us. But he was young and naive, and we suspect he tried that with someone else, to near disastrous ends.

He hadn't been around for a few days, maybe a week or two. We weren't really worried. He was a young, wild crow. He could have been moved on by a more senior bird, or just gone off on his own accord. One day he came to us one day, and he was injured*. He wasn't able to stand on his right foot and was malnourished. He would not tolerate us to approach him for examination. We continued to feed him, and hoped for the best.

Over time he healed, and he did trust us again. But only in work uniform. He realised that we were safe for him. He grew up and found a mate. He'd bring her around for dinner, but she never trusted us like he did. He also had a few batches of chicks that would visit us for food, but like his mate, they never trusted us.

Henry would sit at the back door and call at us when he wanted to be fed. When he was feeding chicks he would take a load of food away for his family. One time I was feeding him dog kibble, because they're more balanced than the mince we normally gave them. When I stopped feeding him, I shoo'd him away. He flew off to a small puddle and dropped all the pellets I'd given him in there to soften them! Cheeky bugger. From then on, whenever I gave him kibble, I'd moisten it first.

Once I was out checking sheep, and in their water trough, I found a bread roll. A soggy, hardly recognisable bread roll. I guess it was a bit hard, and he'd dropped it in there to soften it. I scooped it out and cleaned the trough as best I could. A little later I was out in another part of the paddock when Henry dropped by for a chat. Well, he wanted to see if I had any food, but I didn't so I talked to him instead. All of a sudden he flew off. He'd spied one of the sheep having a drink from the trough where he'd left his roll. He landed in front of the sheep and it took a step back and looked at him. 14" tall Henry waddled forwards a bit, and the 90kg sheep took another step back. Then Henry flew up, and kind of fluttered in the sheep's face. Well, that was it. The sheep retreated smartly. Then he looked over at me as if to say 'What the hell was that about?'. Henry went back to inspect the roll, but found it on the ground and had a quick nibble on it. It was one of the funniest things I've seen.

*To this day, he still has feathers sticking out on his right side, from under his wing.

Once I had a mouse with a new litter. She had one dead one in the lot, so I pulled it out of her nest and left it in the bottom of the cage while I went to get something to put it in. When I came back seconds later, she was over near it. I watched her gently pick up her dead baby, carry it back to the nest, and carefully put it in. Then she sat on top of them all and looked at me.

Pip was my own pet. She now lives with my mother and is morbidly obese. She is a Jack Russell Terrier cross. A very excitable small dog. She taught me so much about how to handle animals. We got her when I was in my final years of high school. Prior to that, our pets never had obedience training. I knew at that stage what I wanted to do for a living, so I used to train Pip.

I didn't use food. I used her favourite stuffed toy to teach sit, stay and fetch. She taught me that you can use any reward to train an animal. She was a bugger for 'come' though. In the house or the back yard, she wouldn't respond. We lived on a busy road at the time with trucks constantly going by, and she got out the front. I bolted out and prepared for a merry chase. The previous dog would come back when she was ready, and from her back yard performances, I thought she'd be the same. But no, I called once and she ran happily over to me. I picked her up and made a big fuss over her. She never did come when called in the house or yard, but outside she had 100% immediate return.

She also taught that me that there are times to be excited and out of control, and times to be calm and quiet. No matter how excited she got, in you rubbed her ears between your fingers, or stroked between her eyes, she'd just stop dead. She taught me that there are ways to calm animals, that are very much the same as calming people.

Sunday, October 14, 2007


There's no question about it. Euthanasia is one of the most unpleasant aspects of working with animals. Second only to being unable to alleviate suffering. God, there are times when I wish people had no access to pets. I don't begrudge people the love and opportunities that pets bring into their lives. I get mightily pissed off at people who see pets as an accessory, or a convenience.

Even that statement doesn't cut it.

I work with animals. There's no secret about that. And it is a very difficult job. Its physically demanding and emotionally draining at times. But its rarely the animals them selves that make it that way. Its the people. The idiotic, ignorant people who buy a gorgeous, innocent pup and lock in a tiny back yard. They don't train it and it acts up. They encourage rough play as a puppy, and are absolutely shocked when it kills something. They try to defend it. Most times, its not the dogs fault. Its the owners and the upbringing and the housing and the socialising. Don't get me wrong, there are times when the owners are perfect and the dog is still nuts. You can't help that.

Or the people who get a long haired animal that either don't have the time or inclination to have their pet groomed. The coat gets all matted, and often these animals have fleas too. So under the mat of hair is itchy, hot, red and painful. And quite often there is so much bacteria living there it stinks to high hell. If your pet gets a scratch under there, they are screwed.

These people are the ones who bitch most about how much it costs to anaethsetise their pet and cut the hair off. Its much cheaper, easier and better for your pet to brush them, or take them to a groomer. They are easier to handle and if you do it yourself, it reinforces the bond.

Or people who have cats with abscesses who don't do anything. We had someone bring in a cat at3pm on a Friday with a bloody great abscess on its foot, demanding surgery. We told her that she should have bought the cat in earlier. We had surgeries already lined up, and if we did hers it would be an after hours, at the appropriate rate. She went to a different vet for the surgery.

We once had someone come in telling us their cat had an abscess. It was the day before a public holiday weekend. She asked if it was ok to wash it with salt water (WTF??? NO, ITS NOT!!!) over the weekend and hope it went away. We advised her against it, she chose to disregard our advice and she walked out, convinced she was doing the right thing. The vet and I just stared at each other, mouths open.

People who take out their pets stitches shit me. Especially since our clinic had free post operative consults. If your pet needed drugs, that was all you paid for. Someone once took the stitches out of an ear (the dog had a haematoma) a few days after surgery. They're supposed to stay in for a few weeks. The ear blew up again and got infected. Not pretty. Then they wanted the surgery done again for free, because they were too stupid or lazy to bring the dog back in for a free check up.

I hate people who have obese animals. Obese people, I don't care. Its your damn fault. But obese animals are a case of neglect. There are some great weight management diets around. Even supermarket pet foods have weight management selections. Obesity in animals is dangerous and expensive. It causes breathing problems, general unfitness, joint problems, life threatening reproductive problems in females... I could go on forever. And it shaves years off of their already short lives. But when you talk to the owners, they don't care. They don't realise that obesity is a problem in animals. Its too hard to walk the dog, I don't have the time. I can't be bothered measuring out food. I love fluffy, but I don't want to see him go hungry. This is neglect. Plain and simple. And its cruel to have an animal morbidly obese. I've been obese. And while I'm still overweight, I am nowhere near what I was. And I feel so much better for it. Don't you want that for your pets?

Then there are the people who don't desex their pets. If you're not intending to breed, get them desexed. If your not going to run the risks involved with males fighting, maintaining a pregnant bitch, raising and rehoming offspring, then for god sake don't do it. Lets mention vet bills here, before I really get into it. If your pet requires a cesarean, its a few hundred dollars minimum, and there are times when people will attempt to avoid the costly procedure by waiting. These times can see the death of the offspring and/or mother. Are you prepared to bottle feed six or eight pups every few hours for weeks? Is anybody? I love my cats, but I don't know if I'd do it.

Most female dogs increase their chances of getting mammary tumours with each heat. Then there are pyometras (don't click if you don't have a stong stomach). Basically its an infection of the uterus. And it can be deadly.

But this is the bit that gets me. Its the unwanted pups and kittens. The ones that are given 'free to good home' but often go to homes that are run by people ignorant of their pets needs and desires. They will tote the fuzzy around to look cool and caring, and forget about it at other times. Leave it with water and chuck some food at it every now and then. Let them get fleas and worms, and be hungry or overweight. Don't pay them the attention that they crave and never notice if something is wrong.

Euthanasia is hard on the people involved. If the animal is restrained firmly (but not roughly) they are a bit relaxed. You hold them to you and as the drug flows into their veins, their life ebbs away. You hardly notice that you've taken their weight in your arms. As the needle is pulled away you let go of the animal and lay them gently on the table. Its that easy. But its more than that. There's two sides. You can either say you eased the transition by being the best nurse you could. You reduced the stress on that animal, and you tell them that everything is going to be ok. You talk in soft tones and you try to be calm. Most of the time euthanasia is carried out because the animal is old, in pain, unable to move, sick or injured.

The other is more obvious. You helped take a life, and that will be with you forever. You hold an animal and its alive, and you let it go and its not. You get desensitised after a while. Though its always hard and I still feel like crying if the owner is there. My first euthanasia was an elderly dog who was in respiratory arrest. He was on the table on an oxygen mask. We could take him off, but only for minutes at a time. The owners (and kids) came in to say goodbye. The first will always be hard, but that situation, an old family pet, with the kids there, that is hard.

But sometimes there is nothing you can say or do to make it better. I hate euthanasing newborns. Full stop. And this is where the irresponsibility comes into play. It is not uncommon to neuter a female who is pregnant. Though it is dangerous and irresponsible to let the animal get to that stage, and it does cost more for the owner. In all fairness, its not always irresponsibility that causes it. Some animals mature faster than others. I've seen a five month old female cat bought in early for desexing who was pregnant.

But I've also seen mid term animals bought in for neutering. The owners, through sheer stupidity, let their bitch get pregnant. They told us she might be in 'early pregnancy'. We would not have done it if instructed otherwise. The bitch was in late second trimester, maybe even early third. They were so far developed that when we removed them, they were trying to breathe. Thought heir lungs would not cope. We ended up having to euthanaise them. So instead of the owners forking out an 'early pregnancy desex' cost, they paid for a cesarean, which is a few hundred more, and we charged them for the lethobarb used to euthanaise TWELVE pups. I still have a very vivid image of the vet nurse holding the pup, ready to inject, and it gasped. In that moment she went to pieces and I held the needle for them. It was messy, and hard on us, to bring life into the world and then, in one moment, take it away. And it was damn dangerous to the bitch too. If memory serves right, she lost a fair bit of blood.

Though, in all honesty, those pups wouldn't have had a good life.

I love working with animals, and have already written tomorrows post telling more positive stuff. But the damage caused by people's ignorance, arrogance and stupidity make the job so much harder than it need be.

Thursday, October 11, 2007

I can be cheezburger?

I'm thinking of submitting some of my kitties to I can haz cheeseburger? These are some of the better (and size appropriate) pics, along with possible captions. I'd like some input from you guys. Mostly because I think you'd be able to come up with something better.


2) Sink cat... iz activated

3) Bumblepussy will killz u

4) "Who didz that?"
or just "Whoa!"

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

About my blog.

So I get called into the office today. I don't deal with office politics well, and its causing some troubles. But thats not what this post is about. At the end of the meeting my boss said to me, privately and personally, that someone at work reads my blog.

I nearly died! I swear if my underwear wasn't jammed nine ways to my sphincter, I'd've squeezed out a dookie! The thought that someone that I see on a daily basis knew about the crush I had on Green Eyes was mortifying. Especially since thats the kind of thing that I only want you knowing if I tell you.

He advised that I be careful about what I blog regarding work. Which I totally appreciated. I told him I don't really blog about work, and I blog as a persona anyway. And it was all ok.

Its strange what I was worried about. Especially since I'd just posted about going vibrator shopping. I post quite a bit about my vibes, my boobs, body parts, masty and my (ex) lack of a sex life. I blog about how men are jerks, and quite a bit about my cats. Sometimes I post about drunken shenanigans, college stories, shopping, or the news. I do the occasional rant when work shits me, but honestly, thats to empty my brain. Its not entertaining for you. I'd rather post a picture of my boobs than blog about work. And I have on numerous occasions. Its more entertaining for you, and the comments are a bigger ego boost to me that way!

If someone from real life started reading your blog, what would be your biggest concern?

Monday, October 08, 2007

Good old porn brown

A while ago there was a pretty suggestive picture published about Madonna. Oh, you all know the one I'm talking about. Don't feign innocence. The pic of her and hubby (what's his name again?) having just purchased the strap on. And it got me thinking. Yeah, yeah. Shaddup. The cogs turn slowly.

"Hi, my name is Phish, and I'm a vibrator addict." Nah, just kiddin. I'm just a kinky biatch.

I buy my toys online. I always have. Only once have I ventured into a sex shop. A dingy little upstairs building in my current city of residence. Surprisingly, it stretched back quite aways. There were about three aisles. Crammed floor to ceiling with porn.

The staff kind of pounced on me the moment I walked in the door, and directed me to the 'toy room'. I felt like a kid in a candy store. But one who'd long grown up and discovered the joys of a bit of kink. I made my shortlist, and then decided to browse the toys they had hanging from the roof.

So I wandered out into the store with my mate in tow. And I paid close attention to the other customers. Mostly because it was hard not to notice how uncomfortable they were. I walked past one middle aged guy, and he froze. Literally. And just stared at the floor until I was a safe distance away. Or they suddenly find the ceiling to be damn interesting. Hilarious.

Um, hello! I'm in the sex shop too you know, I'm not going to think you're a pervert for browsing a goddamned magazine stand. Although you, over there by the VHS, less money on porn, more on TECHNOLOGY!

So I selected what I wanted and wandered up to the counter. And up there I was chatting to the guy. I asked him about what to use to clean it, since I'd almost used up my last bottle of cleaner*. Then he tested it. Not on me. Just, he put it through the motions, to make sure it was working. Then he wrapped it up in brown paper. Laughing as he did so 'good old porn brown.'

And it turned the cogs a bit more. What's the point in wrapping stuff in brown paper? If you're walking out of an adult store with something small and flat wrapped in brown paper, you've got porn. Who gives a shit. Like nobody on the street has ever watched porn and is judging you for buying it. At least you have the morals to go and pay for it. Either that, or you have a shit internet connection.

And if you walk out with a lumpy package, everybody knows you've got a toy. And you know what? I don't give a flying fuck. So I masturbate. So does apparently 60% of women my age and 100% of males. Of all ages. Who cares? So long as I don't have strangers discussing the merits of this product over that one, I don't.

Although, I think strap ons are a league of their own. Wrap those bastards in the brown paper bitches!

*For the record. Those people who will inevitably search vibrator clean or cleaner, use a few drops of dettol in about 10mL of water.

Sunday, October 07, 2007

This one too!

My weekend in bullet points

  • I'm feeling so gross right now. All I've eaten all weekend is KFC, chocolate and cheese. Buh-bye diet!
  • The biotch has been here for a month now. He's not looking for a place to move to. He hasn't pitched in with rent or chores, even though we told him he'd have to as of last week, he's flaked on plans and neglected to tell me. I'm feeling tired, angry, infringed upon and like a well worn doormat. And he's recently told me that he won't start looking for another month. Time to send him back to his parents methinks.
  • I'm off to see Nanny Diaries shortly.
  • I have the new Matchbox Twenty album. I'm going to update my mp3 player tonight too. Surprisingly, these two are related.
  • I've been browsing I Can Has Cheezburger. These just cracked me up!

That is all. Quite sad really :(

Saturday, October 06, 2007

Bitchslaps all round!

I'm so gonna get arse raped over this one. Which I'm ok with, so long as lots of lube is used...

So I got some action. It was quite unexpected but a hell of alot of fun. And it happened so fast too. On Sunday I did the smut post, which was autobiographical, and was about this guy. Later that night he sent me a text. Well, just a picture... of *hem* himself. If you know what I mean.

I was shocked, to say the least. I hadn't expected to hear from him ever. EVER again. I was shaking like I'd just been physically beaten. After all that happened, he chose to contact me again. Though I'm pretty sure (now, after events) that it had been a while for him. So maybe I was just the fallback fuck. Whatever. If I'm that for him, he's that for me.

Monday saw the 'favourite mistake' post. He was mine, and I was given the opportunity to make it again. Though I hadn't decided if I'd take that chance.

I let it sit for a few days while I pondered how I'd react. Would I be angry, or hurt, or horny. Turns out I was all three. When I did respond I insulted him, flattered his penis, and asked him 'why?' This was Tuesday. We were texting, and he rang me. I sat there and laughed as it rang out. I wasn't ready to talk to him.

Wednesday we discovered the joys of MMS and text sex. He asked if he could come over. I said no. It was too late, and I decided not to do 'late' this time.

Thursdays are my only free day during the week. He said he'd be over, but neglected to give an approximate time. I did a quick post, celebrating the end of celibacy, then headed out for dinner and a spot of shopping. He texted half an hour before the cut off time, asked if I was still up for it, and said he was on his way.

It was great. Afterwards we talked for a bit, just like normal. I remember thinking that I thought the self tan moisturiser hadn't worked, and all it made me do was look jaundiced and dirty. But seeing my light brown leg tangled between his omo bright white legs made me think different. He left. I didn't expect, nor want, him to stay.

I dunno. It feels different this time. There's no anxiety, no real need to have him all the time. There's no complicating feelings. Some people catch up for coffee and a chat. We catch up for sex and a chat. Its just how we are.

It was SR. Let the bitch slapping commence...

Friday, October 05, 2007

The e-Family

I have an e-family. If you're reading this, chances are you are in it!

e- Parents
Kez and Steph. Ignoring the fact that if these two will never be actual parents, because they both like a bit of penis, AND the fact that they would be the most awesomely irresponsible parents in the world, these two have really shaped my blog from the beginning. Kez introduced me to it all, and Steph I've known since my blog baby was only two months old.

Josh. Though there's nothing special about that. He's a bit of an e-slut.

e-siblings (2 of one, 3 of the other)

Crushed by Ingsoc. What more can I say? We are that close.
Fingers. He's rude, crude and damn entertaining. And when the shit starts flying, he's right in the thick of it.

Kelly. If we didn't live in different countries we'd have met up and have a gazillion debaucherous tales to tell.
Keshi. I haven't known her all that long really, but her blog is a place to kick off your shoes and have a few chardy's.
Kitty. She's an inspiration to lose weight and be as naughty as I want to be.

e-Uncles/Aunts (4)
Betty would be the fun, young aunt. She'd take you shopping, and sneak you beer at the family 'do.
Nick. What can I say. He's older than most of my regular readers.
Mutley. He's the uncle who makes you nearly wet yourself laughing with the most basic jokes. He has a great way of telling his stories.
Obesio. We'll call him dirty Uncle Obesio thanks.

e - Grandparent
Smack. Even though she's gone away, she's still with us in spirit.

Who's in your e-family?

Thursday, October 04, 2007

Something different

I'm going to do something different tonight. Instead of blogging, I'm going to have a good hard fuck instead.

See y'all later!

Monday, October 01, 2007

Some mistakes are too fun to make only once...

What's your favourite mistake? If you had a chance to make it again, would you take it?