No-Men-Bro: Day 4

Soooo I’ve traded dick for sugar. Yep that’s what today has entailed…sugar. I’m going to look like Mama June by the end of this month  

 
Fuck my life…still no dick. Still no soft drink. Killin’ it. 

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No-Men-Bro: Day 2 & 3

No-Men-Bro day 2: Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Its only day 2 and I already fucked things up. No, I was not walking and fell on a penis. I was day dreaming and taking screenshots of memes to send to my friend in a month because I am not talking to him. Nek minnit he writes to me asking if we are talking…so I respond and then we are back talking. I can’t believe that I lasted a day *MASSIVE EYE ROLL* Oh well let’s hope he doesn’t pull moves on me through the month, even though we have decided to make our friendship non physical (I will not confirm or deny that I was just singing Olivia Newton-John.) I then played sexy (actually I felt frumpy) taxi driver to another guy that I used to date, who is now my friend. Both dudes have been featured on the blog before :/ Anyway, I dropped him and his friend off at another friend’s house. I hadn’t met the dude that we picked up before. He was tall, a bit of bogan, but seemed like a decent bloke. Since I didn’t have an extra long weekend, I went to work, but told him to call me if he needed a lift and I would pick them up. Flash forward to my friend and I sitting around, eating snacks, drinking wine and watching Netflix. Well we had had a glass of wine, he messaged, I said we would come and get them. The guys were wasted so we went out to our local that’s open until 4am. We got kicked out of there at closing time and ended up back at my party palace. More drinks and shit talking prevailed. My friend is absolutely gorgeous so naturally my friend’s friend wanted a piece. Because she is so lovely, I didn’t know if she was keen or not. Got to about 5.30am and they left. My friend and I didn’t hook up. Sex: 0. Me:1!!! YAY!!! Didn’t even kiss him on the cheek… BOOM BOOM. I am killing it. (Shhhhhh, I know it’s day 2, technically, fuck you, it’s day 3.) Finally I could ask her what she thought about him or if she was just being nice. She usually says no straight away. She didn’t. My imagination goes straight to me being her maid of honour and I look good, my friend is his best man and we scoff that it was all because of us that they found true love. Anyway they look good together, I won’t even lie. *Pats self on back, friend reads this post and is instantly turned off :(* Sleep for a bit, win money on Melbourne Cup, have breakfast with hipsters at 4pm down Chapel Street, drop friend off, see other friend for more coffee, am shaking/might vomit/or heart might stop from too much caffeine in such a short time. Go home, still buzzing, clean house. Then I do something that I never do unless I am getting taken to pound town, which is shave my legs, exfoliate, moisturise, wash and dry hair. Basically take the time out to make myself feel like a real person that is silky smooth. Maybe there is something to this No-Men-Bro.

Please note: When I was driving, I fully drooled over a beautiful specimen walking at the lights. Forgot that he could see my eyes because I was wearing glasses not sunglasses. I turned into a full creep. I would have climbed him like a tree…its only day fucking 3.

Also: didn’t drink soft drink while drinking. Killing it.

No-Men-Bro

As it is the 1st November and the guys are getting their Moe’s tavern on, I have decided that I am going to give up sex for a month by participating in No-Men-Bro (I just made it up). My friend said I should document it, because I am a dirty freak and this month may actually be quite difficult/hilarious. I had decided last Friday because I am extremely over dramatic that I was not going to talk to the guy that I am in a extremely confusing friendship/fuck buddy/feelings filled whatever with, so that should make this easier. Maybe. So here we are Day 1. Sex 0. Contact with men 0,except by text. May have napped with my cat for most of the afternoon, but it is Sunday, so don’t judge me.This month’s mantra is “Do you, boo.” Which is what my friend constantly says to me. So yes, this month will be a self indulgent month to focus on important hippy things, like mind, body and soul, (also giving up all soft drink). Of course the honesty system does apply. But I am just assuming that Netflix will help, please god. So let’s see if it is like the episode of Seinfeld where George and Elaine both don’t have sex and George becomes really smart and Elaine becomes extremely dumb. I really hope that I’m George.

Feel free to comment and tell me if there is anything that you have/would/could give up for a month…

Just another night of losing bile and brain cells…

Last year, I slept with a dude that I went to high school with. He fed me by candlelight, told me that I had always been the one and then we made love on rose petals and we both cried when we came. Ewwww how boring is that?!? I nearly put myself to sleep. That wasn’t how the story went at all :/ I got a message from this dude I went to high school with, saying that we should catch up. We caught up for coffee in a hospital, which I guess is a kind of weird place to catch up,  spoke about people we knew and about old times. It was really lovely, he’s a great guy. Fast forward to an evening of hanging out, he slept over, zero funny business, lots of funny movies and cheap laughs. It had been such a long time since we had connected on any level and it was nice to know that we still liked each other as the adults that we had become (even though, let’s be real…I’m hardly an adult.)

The next catch up session things got a bit loose when there was a bottle of scotch brought over, a lot of music doco’s…yada yada yada another bottle down, I am not pleased to admit how we acquired the other bottle. But I drove us to get it, and then McDonalds…At the lights we pulled up next to a cop car and I thought my life was over, as me not driving would be like a Greek tragedy. But we made it home safely, the only accident we were involved in was my upholstery getting ruined by the Coke he spilt, but that turned out not to be a thang in the state that we were in. There was lots of reminiscing, maybe some dancing by the stereo. I thought I was feeling fine and I was alarmed that it was 7am, we had had 2 bottles and I was still coherent…nek minnit its 10.30am and I wake up alone in the bath…uh oh. I get out of the cold bath, and see vomit all over the floor of my room. FUUUUCCKKK. I feel like I’m going to die and I have no idea what happened to him. Or me. Or between us…I don’t feel violated at all, because I probably jumped him and forced my drunken self on his ass if anything did happen, I mean. Dammit! I’m too old for this shit. Moments from high school are rushing back and I haven’t changed since then. Something that no 28-year-old wants to admit to themself, while sitting on the cold floor, next to the toilet bowl. All I know is, I spewed everywhere, I’m naked, he is gone, his phone is off, I’m going to die from alcohol poisoning and shame and I have to back it up tonight with another party. This isn’t a “hehe I got so white girl wasted and blacked out hehe” ditzy lie. I seriously can’t remember those three hours and it never came back to me. I lost significant brain cells. He doesn’t return my calls for hours, I try to clean up the vomit…that smell (vomits in mouth) the most unfortunate part of the story is that I have to meet my parents in IKEA because I have missed our lunch date. There is no hot water, which I am really confused about, because that has never happened before and it is the worst time for it to happen.

I message my friend to pick me up. I use her shower and she accompanies me to the Shopping Centre. Now I don’t love IKEA on a normal day, so today I feel completing boxed in and will either vomit or shit myself all over everyone on a Sunday, that’s not a great feeling as I lie to my mum saying that it isn’t self-inflicted and I think I have caught a bug. It was the longest two hours of my life and I spent the rest of the afternoon feeling sorry for myself at my friend’s house. I was also worrying about going to this party that I was meant to attend. The thought of alcohol was still making me spew and the self hate was at its worst. Thank God for my friend, she dressed me up, did my hair and make up and I started to perk up. We arrived at the party and I started on the water, being around people and retelling last night’s tale was making me feel more human as we all wondered what had happened during the black out hours.

So I didn’t hear from him for a while, but he is all class. He told me not to worry about it and that everything was all good. I was still mortified as he did not tell me what had happened. He told people that we had caught up and was the perfect gentleman…except for my best friend. While they were at a party, my best friend sent me a pic of the two of them. I shuddered as I knew what their conversation would have been about. So three months later some of the pieces were put together which were, that I had indeed thrown up all over him while we were having sex. Yep, thrown up on him. Yep, that happened. Yep, dirty drunken pisswreck vomited while fucking a dude that I use to make out with in high school. If there was a time to die from embarrassment, it would be now…however, at our next meeting I was just as pissed hehe don’t hate the player…hate the game. I am sure you are not surprised to hear that we did not catch up after that…he may or may not have fled the country.

My little puffer fish

I feel like everyone has that someone that they hate fuck/are indifferent to. This angel is no different. I have my sad clown fish that I’ll will refer to as Dom. I was less than impressed when I met him a few years ago. Clem had told me what a nice guy he was, but when I saw him, he was wasted and staring at my chest like my breasts would be his next meal. The next night the tables were turned, I was the obnoxious drunk guy. I called him a miserable cunt while we sat next to each other, looking each other up and down, being far from impressed. So I was not surprised, when I was minding my own business, licking the window at the back of the room, that he was telling Clem that her friend was a dick. To which, I kept on yelling that ‘I’m still in the room.’ It was such a funny night.

I will then fast forward to the night of pub’s Christmas Party. I tease Clem and say there were only two women at the party, myself and my then girl crush. But, of course, Clem was there rocking a $2 grey jumper from Kmart and was getting chat up by a 60 year old man in the corner. So I had my pick of the bar and I wanting a piece of the sword fish. I fought off the advances and Nurf bullets (Kris Kringle gifts) and walked Dom back to the pub where he lived which was a block away. We walked upstairs to where the magic happened.

I was anxious to get back to the party, so the stereotypical gender roles were reversed when he was asking me to ‘hold him’ but I had already thrown my leather jacket over my shoulder, lit my cigarette and said  ‘look dude, I’m out’ and left. I know, badass, right?

I got back to the pub and Clem asked why I was so sweaty. I gave her the eyes and a head gesture to shut up, but she asked me at least 10 more times in front of her boss. I was mortified. I forgot about it and we continued as though nothing had ever happened. Partly because he couldn’t remember that it actually did happen.

A few months later, some girl was hitting on him, so I wanted to show her that she was contending with me, so she left in a huff. I could now claim my prize that I only wanted because I had had some competition. Actually, I was indifferent but in an awkward situation. I had started a tab and left my credit card at the bar and had no cash on me to get home. Plus, I had just had a fight with my unattainable love and decided the best thing to do, would be to put out and stay at the pub.

The next morning my friend came and got me and I basically looked like we had had a one night stand and he was taking me out for breakfast after the fact. But he just lucked out and only got the breakfast part.

It had been ages since anything had happened. 0 awkwardness, except for the telling everyone that I had raped him at my birthday (slightly embarrassing). I still see him and it’s more than an underwhelming response that we greet each other with. Occasionally he rings me and I will take his drunk ass home, because I worry about him.

I wasn’t well a few months ago and joked to my best friend’s that I would be out of the game for the next six weeks so something better happen in the next two days. I went to see Clem at the pub in my track pants, hair up and no make-up to be seen, I was definitely there to pick up. So I dropped Clem off. Then Dom and I drove into an abandoned park and made out. But now we are back to complete indifference. It is so strange. I doubt anything will happen between us again, which is fine or whatever. Yawn, Lol.

A letter to my Unicorn

Dearest Unicorn,

Hi! How are you? Soooo I guess things have changed since I last saw you over a decade ago. I glanced over at you, numerous times when we were at the same party a few weeks ago. You have not changed much in the looks department. Still the same smile, still gorgeous.

When I saw you, I reverted back to my schoolgirl self. Shy and unsure of myself, hence why I did not come up to you and say the things that I have said to your family and my friends. I am not sure if you know why I call you my unicorn? Well you are one of them at least, I have two. But in regards to the other one, I mainly talk about his Dad and that I would mos def have a crack at him. I call you that because on the night where we could of hooked up, we did not. Actually, I did not even really know that you were hitting on me or think in this universe that you even wanted to hook up. I was young, cold, drunk and we were hiding in a shed. The stuff of true romance. In my memory, I look on point, my brown hair blowing in the wind, looking sexy. Yet, my makeup would have been smudged, my lipstick non existent, hair was probably wet with sweat from dancing to the sick beats at the pub.

I was completely naive. So ever since I found out we could have, I have wanted a piece.

Things I have said to your family include, “I will stepmum the shit out of your nieces and nephews.” I use the dramatic approach for maximum humour. I then described in great detail what I would do to you. But really I just want to live out my school girl dream of making out with you, cause you basically are sexy as fuck and therefore my unicorn. I feel so juvenile in writing this letter that you will probably never read but the world needs to know about the power of the unicorn.

Unicorns are usually different for guys and girls. Girl’s unicorns are usually a piece of ass that you could have had but things did not work out for a number of reasons, yet you both were keen. Guy’s unicorns on the other hand are more like dream girls, that things haven’t worked out but it’s because she is not usually keen. It’s a tough world for unicorns.

So yeah, I would probably say that you continue on being my unicorn. I hope you are happy and well 🙂 and I promise that when I keep on getting drunk and see your family, I will continue to say inappropriate things that I would never say in person because even though we are older, I will always be the shy, unsure girl that you used to know.

xxx

If you don’t have a unicorn…here is charlie the unicorn…he’s a pretty rad unicorn.

A cautionary fairy tale…

Once upon a time, there were three fair maidens that ruled the land. Wait, wait, wait. Once upon a time, there were three hilarious, intelligent, sexy females that ruled the streets of Melbourne. In a bizarre coincidence, these three ladies all dated or lusted after 3 dudes that worked in different shoe stores, which is actually really weird.

The first maiden we will call Messarella. Messarella was trying to distract herself from the throws of life and decided to go on Tinder to build up her self esteem and date random dudes. This was never a problem and she usually had 4 on the go at once. So one day she swiped right to a basketball player that came from Adelaide. They had a mutual friend, so that provided her with some comfort. He was a manager at Footlocker. He would text her day and night and he was a bit of a sexual deviant. When they met up however, he looked strange and complained so much. As Messarealla wanted to keep herself occupied from the 3 other gentlemen she decided to keep him around for a while. It was the perfect situation, he would only stay for 2 hours and she was so sick of him by that time, she would count down the minutes after he had made her scream to him leaving. They tried to go out on a date once, but she felt like she was the mother of a 4 year old. Alas, the glass slipper didn’t fit and he probably went back to jerking off in the back room of the store or the public toilets at the shopping centre he worked at. Definitely not Prince Charming. More like Prince Deviant.

Barbarella, was the second maiden. She also found herself occupying her time on Tinder and she and Messarella sent endless screenshots back and forth. The ladies found Tinder to be somewhat of an interesting sport.  It was there that Barbarealla swiped right to a tortured artist who worked at Converse. She was intrigued by this scrub, who never had an money and lived with his sister who had a husband and a child. She would try to help him sort his life out, by listening to his problems, making lists of real estate inspections for him to go to, just by generally being amazing to him, while he was scrubbing it up and being utterly depressed. They had a few fun nights, getting messy but the cloud of misery that surrounded this guy, was not far away.  He ended up meeting a girl with a stupid name, but who looked exactly like Barbarella and ended things with her. Of course, the new girl he met wasn’t nearly as fun or easy as Barb is and she played mind games with him and totally dumped his ass, so of course he came back to Barbarella with his tale between his legs. However, Barbarella was smarter than this and smashed the glass slipper, and tried to stab him with it.

The third maiden was Hiprella. Unlike the other two ladies, she had met had met Mr. Adidas in the flesh. He would touch her up once a week at his school. Ok, maybe I should clarify that. She would go to the Tafe where Adidas was completing a massage course, she would blush at the thought of his strong hands. Whenever, Hiprella went shopping with another maiden, the other maiden would look in as they walked past the store to see if he was working. These two were teenagers again. If he was working, she would go and buy shoes from him and he was so generous to give her his discount. It was kind of hot. Hiprella would talk to him on facebook and they actually became quite close. Hiprella was getting quite keen on Adidas and decided to tell him that she wanted to hook up with him. He was keen and there was some interesting texts that went back and forth. But after a while, he stopped replying to her texts. He deleted his Facebook account and went MIA. So there was some recon work that had to be done to find out what the hell was this guy playing at, because it is weird to fall off the face of the planet, especially at this time of the interweb and foremost they were friends. Hiprella ended up finding him, but never got an explanation as to why he suddenly shut everyone out of his world. We suspect that he got a girlfriend, but that doesn’t excuse him for bad manners. So Hiprella bought those beautiful pink runners with terrific support and they still have more than enough tread on the bottom to walk on him when they run into each other in the shopping centre.

Therefore, lets teach our daughters to love shoes like Carrie does in Sex and the City. Not to fantasise about men who might help her put them on, because three out of three bad encounters with dudes that work in retail shoe shops should be a cautionary tale. Next story, we will go all Sleeping Beauty on it and talk about the time that I got slipped a date rape drug and woke up with a homeless man. Just kidding, I slipped him the roofie 😉