Once, twice, three times a lady…

I like to think that life is all about balance. For example tonight is for me to be sitting in bed with a top knot, in a singlet and undies, listening to Simon & Garfunkle and maybe some sexy Mac Miller beats, either completing old Samurai Sudoku’s that I have saved or reading, with my kitty kat snuggled up beside me. It’s quiet and perfect for me to savour the silence of the night with my loud thoughts.

Flashback to last week when I had said that to my friend that he had to find a job, our midweek rendezvous were taking a toll on me, getting far too wasted, far too often. But those nights are special and make me appreciate these nights of silence and reflection.

Late last year, I hooked up with a dude that was previously married. I knew him when he was married, I knew his wife. He was separated and we always enjoyed each other’s company when we would run into each other. I was surprised when I saw him on Tinder. I knew that he wasn’t stupid enough to be married and on there, so things must have ended. When we matched he was straight to it, they had recently separated and things were hard but they were all okay and it was for the best. I was hesitant to say the least but he was charming and funny. More to the point when you already know someone that makes things so much easier.

We spoke over a couple of weeks. He would call me and we would chat, but the majority of the time was texts which he declared that he wasn’t any good at. One night he got me on the phone and said that we was going to come and get me. We would have a few drinks and catch up. I wasn’t sure about this and declined. The next night he worked his magic and he was coming to get me. I spent hours getting ready but the pressure was off as we already knew each other and had some sort of attraction. I was nervous going to their married house. I cringe at the thought. I was actually shitting myself. I wasn’t doing anything wrong but I felt weird about it. I had voiced my concerns and he had shut them down, one by one. This guy was good.

We got in the groove with each other. He was extremely polite and such an amazing host. What was he going to cook me for dinner? Cheese board, amazing wine, intense eye contact as we discussed our lives in detail. If you have previously read this blog before, you will know that my nerves, plus alcohol isn’t my friend. I was extremely excited because we were hitting it off so well and the conversation was electric.Other than the fact there were photos everywhere of her family. I tried to ignore it, but it was mentally noted, for the conversation that would happen with my friend later. He mentioned something about partying, so next thing I knew we were raking up lines at 10.30pm on a Tuesday night. The night was getting loose and I was all for it. He passionately kissed me, between each of us rubbing the residue into our gums. It was hot. He was hot and full of passion. We went from the couch to the family room floor to finally a bedroom. I insisted that we go into the spare room because I couldn’t face, the previous marital bed. By now the drugs and wine were working their magic and I was feeling my sexy self. The sex was incredible. He was confident, funny, seductive and all of these traits were present in the bedroom. After the extreme sports were performed, I wasn’t feeling so good and you guessed it…vomited errywhere. All over the doona cover, all over the walls. He put me in the shower and then put my clothes in the wash, while he got cleaning. He was lovely about it. He said “Of course it would happen and he had often felt like that.” Total gentleman, could not fault this dude. He consoled me over and over again. It was fine. I was dying of embarrassment in the shower but was still pissed and railed so I thought that I could actually pull this off. As I now had no clothes, I walked around in a mink blanket, which I thought was pretty sexy. Turns out the pic that I had sent my girlfriend after I had explained the incident was less sexy than I had first thought, I looked like a hillbilly. I called her, explaining the eyes that I felt on me from the wife’s family, they were following me. So the next few hours consisted of, cleaning, washing, more lines and surprisingly more sex. We couldn’t get enough of each other, even though I think I could still smell vomit in my hair, which while gross, it turns out that I can still complete the task at hand, many times may I add.

I left at 5am. He wanted me to stay but I couldn’t face peak hour in an Uber. This guy was my personal hero, as he still was going to go to work after our scattered night. I silently died in the Uber, I wanted my shower, my bed and my cat not to judge me, for not being able to handle my liquor, yet again.

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Creepers being creepy

There is no easy way to say this…in the last week I have been a complete creep. I’m cringing at the thought of the creep that I have been. Creep is the perfect word to describe the behaviour that I have displayed. Why would I want to admit this to you? Wellllll, I’m hoping that I will stop it and the sick compulsion I have to continue to partake in this activity. Here goes…I’ve been a troll, although not in the way that one usually trolls online. I’ve said incredibly inappropriate things to a man that I have never met before. At the start I thought it was funny and I really do mean the things I have been saying, I do want to blow him until he can’t remember his name…but maybe just maybe I should refrain from sliding into his DM’s (Direct Messages on Instagram) and saying these things. But there has been an extreme lack of self control on my end. Lucky for me, this guy is lovely. He has told me not to stress when I get completely neurotic, even though he doesn’t know me and if I were him I probably would block me. I am the first one to admit that I have been fucking crazy, sounding extremely confident while saying these dirty things that would make anyone blush and then completely freaking out after I send them. I’m crushing hard and it’s pathetic. I know it’s pathetic. If anyone else told me that they were doing this, I would first laugh and encourage them to keep going so I could keep laughing but then I would say ‘come on dude…take it down 2845773929394 notches…you look psychotic.’ I am not this girl and I am not handling it very well…at all. So now like any good addict, I have to first cleanse myself and admit I have a problem (this post) and then start my rehab…no more contact for a bit because I look fully psycho (I will however, totally send him the link to this post as a parting gift.) So tomorrow will be the first day without contact…no more snapchats…no more slipping into his DM’s…no more boob shots without him asking…time to fully cut the cray. Wish me luck…

 

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No-Men-Bro update

Soooooo if we remember back to me not being able to last No-Men-Bro, which there was disappointment all round, except when I was climaxing. Anyway that isn’t the point. I just wanted to let my loyal readers know that my dry spell resulting from heartbreak lasted from New Year’s Day to Good Friday. But now we are back in the game…So I nearly lasted without the D for four whole months!!!!Maybe I am now destined to only have sex on public holidays though :p

Story about dating a fucked up baker is coming tomorrow…

This guy mos def lifts bro…

I have written about lovable hair pulling shorty, now I will tell you about the other Lebanese Australian man that I have dated, who is pretty much, the complete opposite of him. He was 6’4 and 103 kg’s, lets call him Unit, cause that’s what he was. I dated him years ago. I was intrigued by this guy. He was massive. We met on a dating website. we chatted for a bit and he seemed like a really nice guy. His pics weren’t anything special, amazing body, wasn’t too sure about his face, but I can get past that because he was nice. Reading that back, I sound like a shallow bitch, but that isn’t the case. When it comes to internet dating, after a while you do come with a side of skepticism. Anyway, he asked me out and wanted to spend Valentine’s Day with me. As far as I’m concerned that’s a pretty big no no, so I graciously declined and suggested another day. Why would I want to go out on a first date on Valentine’s day? My idea of Valentine’s day is watching seriously depressing movies like Blue Valentine and Revolutionary Road with pizza and red wine. I am not even being over dramatic, which is a change. I really do love those movies. The start being so promising and then life and it’s shittyness fucking things up for a couple where their relationship changes over many years. That isn’t me being a depressing psycho, that’s change and if a couple changes together or separately and then they fall apart. I am getting off topic, so we scheduled coffee in the morning a few days later.

The conversation before we had meet was pretty bland. He was a gentleman. Nothing sexual (eg. no dick pics) no dirty comments, nothing. I wore a really pretty pink floral dress and I felt vibrant and confident (okay, the confident part is a stretch, but I felt like I looked cute, still wanted to vomit though.) We actually pulled up at the cafe at the same time. This guy was fucking massive. I felt tiny beside him. It was hot. I felt like he was Shaq and I was his tiny wife.

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He gave me a kiss on the mouth, which for me is another turn on, it catches me off guard and I like the confidence it shows on their end. He pulled out my seat and we ordered coffees. So far, so good. He was lovely. We had heaps to talk about, actually we didn’t shut up. He came from a massive family and he told me all about them. He seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say and asked a lot of questions about me as well, (this can also be rare.) He had a cheeky smile and we had heaps of chemistry. I really liked the guy. He paid for our drinks, also a nice touch. He suggested that we watch a movie. I was excited, maybe we would make out in the cinema, that could be cool, old school, but I’ll give it a crack. He discussed that we would take both of our cars and that I would follow him because we were over in his hood. That is fine with me, still had not thought anything strange was happening. We started driving. I do have a rough idea of the area since a couple of my friends live over that way and this isn’t the way I would go to the movies, it’s actually in the other direction, but I gave him the benefit of the doubt. We drove for another 10 minutes and I was still hopeful that we weren’t in fact driving back to his house…which we were. I was in two minds, most of me was saying, well that was cheeky. Where as the other part was saying, well played.

We walked inside, said hi to his housemate and he showed me around. He had like a separate area of the house, which had a kitchen, bathroom, etc, but was still connected. I don’t know why it was like that, but still not that weird. The weird part was when we got into his little section, there were mirrors all over the walls. Yep. Mirrors. He was renting, so he said that he hadn’t put them up, but who knows. The thing I was most upset about was that he didn’t even put a movie on!!!!!!!!!! Now that upset me. Not enough though, because we started making out on the couch. Unit was all over me and it was hot. So hot that we moved things into the bedroom, where there was more mirrors, I might add. So we both got to put on shows for not only each other but could fully work on our sexy faces and moves while looking in the mirror. That definitely enhanced the experience as well as the fact that I was fucking a giant. We hung out for a bit but I was getting restless and wanted to bail and go and see what my friends were up to. Little did they know that the date went down better than my delicious latte.

I booty called him a few weeks later and we hooked up again, but after that the novelty wore off. I have now ticked both the giant and the mirrored walls off my sexual bucket list. I will never fall for the movie trick again though, I want movie details, not directions to your house!!!

Breaking up blows

ATM, I’m heartbroken. (At the moment Clem, not Ass to Mouth!) It ended fucking horrifically. We were in some bullshit non relationship, that meant we spoke everyday, I would stay at his house a couple of nights a week, etc. Anyway, this is all about my top tips of how to handle a break up, fuck people that say this isn’t as bad of a break up, things ended and we no longer see each other, that’s a break up to me. Sure they might be things that I wish I had done.

  1. Save whatever self respect you have and stop messaging them. (I did this, after two days of abusive messages to him. Maybe I did tell him that I poured strawberry Big M over his car and that I was going to ruin his life. Okay that definitely happened. Maybe it backfired because he knows me that well that he knew that I wouldn’t.) As we have tried the whole I’m not coming back this time before, he knew it was over when he brought up facebook and I had said that I had already deleted him. That’s when it really sunk in for him. I don’t even want to write this, but I totally sent him lyrics to a song that we both liked. My advice, don’t do that, it’s lame. Write down your lame thoughts, it will give you something to laugh about when you feel better.
  2. As soon as it happens, watch stand up specials, all day if needed. I did this, it was amazing. I also recommend to watch your favourite romantic comedies like Fatal Attraction and Gone Girl, just to remember how great it feels to be a powerful woman.

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3. Don’t cancel shit to wallow. If you already had plans and work, go. It will get your mind off the shityness you feel. Probably best to avoid talking about it and getting white girl wasted if the night isn’t about you though. You don’t want to feel worse.

4.Allow yourself time to grieve. This is shitty. It fucking sucks. But you know what sucks more? Being with someone when things aren’t working. I’m three weeks in and I’ve got thousands of screenshots to send him of funny things that I have come across but I’m not going to…

5. Get a cat.

6.Eat pizza and then go to the gym. My favourite part about going to the gym once, is the fantasy that comes with it. Next time he sees me I will be in the best shape of my life and he will regret ever fucking me over. However, I will probably be have a stained shirt on with my hair up, glasses on (recently realised that I am more blind than I thought) and look utter ridiculous while he is knee deep in vagina. Probably has 3 girls on his arm and they all laugh when they see me.

7.Talk to other boys.

8. Listen to love songs…Then listen to angry songs…Then listen to Fonsay Beyonce.

9.Delete the messages, phone number, etc. I have not done this, because of my current excellent self control and because I am a digital hoarder. I still have text messages from wrong numbers dated back to 2010. This is mos def going to bite me in the ass *rolls eyes*

10.Do something nice for yourself. And most of all, be kind to yourself.

 

 

I hope this post has provided a laugh about such a shitty time. I really wish that I had done the Big M thing, so if you are still feeling bad…go and egg his house.

To the boy this is about,

If you are checking in, I miss you, even though I shouldn’t. I miss you screwing up my face like Adam Sandler does to that kid in Billy Madison. I miss you putting me in quiet time when I won’t stop talking. And I miss you always being worried about if I am comfortable. But I don’t miss all the bullshit you put me through.

 

Please comment below on what steps I may have missed :p

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m officially a bad person

You would think I would be out of stories by now. That is not the case…at all. I think it was last year, I met this guy on good ol’ Tinder. He was half Mauritian, half Aussie. Nice chocolate skin. Majority of pics were good. He had buff arms, looked like he dressed well, one pic was of chop sticks as seal tusks (okay, I can look past that, as I love a good face in the hole.) Anyway, I liked what I saw. He would write me essays, so that is what my girlfriends and I called him.

Essay decided to take me out for breakfast at a trendy Cafe on a weekday. I was running late and he got there early so he could get the perfect seat next to the window. I was so late, therefore flustered and off my A game. But, he was lovely. He was wearing a nice shirt and had gone to a lot of effort. He was fascinating. He had just moved back from New York after spending a year there for work, he was living with his parents because he was waiting for the tenants in his place to move out, was planning on buying a holiday house, had also spent time in Antarctica, liked watching the footy and rock climbing. Basically he was kicking the shit out of life, even told me about meeting Ryan Gosling and him being the nicest guy, even though he had no idea who he was. As we were talking, there was something off about him, but I couldn’t place it. He excused himself and went to the bathroom but I didn’t realise that he had paid for breakfast on the way back. Nice touch, I thought. I thought the date would be over but took me to another cafe for more coffee and cake and then we went for a walk. I knew I wasn’t that keen, but I thought, fuck it, give this guy a chance. He held my hand when we walked (gross) that sounds so mean, but I barely know you. What about if I saw someone I knew? What would I say? Anyway, we held hands. He took me to a park and we made out. He was fully into it, I was racking my brain as to what was bothering me about him. It was like the middle of the day on a Monday, that’s how inappropriate I feel this make out session was. Totally not my scene, but I obliged*. He walked me back to my shitty car and we called it a day.

Okay, so we are half way through this story. I know I am completely fucked up. Girls would kill for this put together dude. Nice, stable, easy going, up for anything, smart, etc. Think of the Sex and the City Episode, where Carrie says that she was trying a guy on to see if he fit, not really your taste but you will give it a go. A nice, vanilla life. Mos def not my cup of tea. 

So we kept on speaking and he wanted to surprise me at home one morning by bringing me pastries for breakfast. This guy was good. I had to see if this was going to go anywhere even though I clearly wasn’t feeling it. I had also realised why I wasn’t into it. Some of his facial expressions reminded me of a guy I went to school with. I know what you are thinking, no big deal, now you are just nit picking. Actual the guy that he reminded me of was autistic, (not that there is anything wrong with that.) But I could not be with a guy that reminded me of a guy I went all through school with and had a lot of really strange memories of. I can’t blame this guy for that, so I said that he could come over for breakfast. We ended up having more than breakfast, it was a three course breakfast. He was hooked. The breakfast wasn’t bad at all. Wasn’t boring like Al-Bran and he was hoping that I was satisfied like at a Continental Breakfast at a hotel. But I could not get the similarity out of my head. So thanks for the pastries but I guess I am getting back with my ex (my favourite excuse to stop seeing anyone.) He suggested that we could continue seeing each other without my ‘boyfriend’ knowing. I said I didn’t think so. A few months later when I went back on Tinder, I received more messages asking if I was single and wanted to hook up. I felt like he thought I was Mia Khalifa, everybody’s favourite porn star or maybe I just wish that.

*I feel like ‘I obliged’ would be the name of my autobiography. Not just in relation to sex but in regards to my whole life.

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Fully-Fucked-It-Bro

A few days ago, I saw Shorty. Enough said. Actually it was one of the funniest things I have ever experienced. He accidentally did a back flip off the bed, the cat wouldn’t stop licking him and my housemate was pacing up and down the entire time. Sure it wasn’t the stuff of true romance but I do enjoy a good belly laugh.

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Join me next year, because I can pretty much guarantee that I will still be single and I will try again to have a month without sex…