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.

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.

 

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!!!

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.

 

 

Seinfeld, Milk & Mars Bars

I am sitting in bed at 6.23am on a Saturday morning, tears are flowing and I am sad that something has just come to an end after nearly a year of whatever it was. I think its over. This time it feels over. Surely its over. This story is not going to be all dark and depressing though, its going to be about my first date with this very special guy. Sure he might have had a job that I really didn’t buy at the start and later he did confess that my suspicions were true as to why he always had cash on him and two phones. He would go back and forth from his ex and call me when they were having another break here and there. Sure there might have been a wooden dildo from Bali pulled out with me, shying away from it and hoping he just pulled it out for a laugh. Sure I would bring over milk and mars bars and we would become kids and eat in his bed, that I would call the cloud, because all of your troubles would float away. Disclaimer: the wooden dildo, never came near me. But our connection was amazing. I would get lost in his dark brown eyes and laugh at his jokes. Things should have ended the first time when he disappeared for a week and then after I confronted him, told me about the love of his life. I was hurt. I sent him Seinfeld quotes of George getting broken up with someone and using the whole “it’s not you, it’s me.” This made me feel better but I wont lie, I was sad. When he messaged me a few weeks after that, I ran back and that has been the same pattern for the last year. He would message me, we would chat, we would watch movies and Seinfeld,  we would “hang out,” it would end. 1 month, the longest was two months, rinse and repeat. Same old, same old.

I’m not in love with him. But I am extremely fond of him and we just get each other. We love the same TV shows, have amazing back and forth, confide in each other and the main reason as to why I run back, is his ability to treat me like a goddess. This guy has got mad skills that drive me insane with desire. So over the last year we have been on a journey going nowhere but most definitely enjoying the ride! So we go from the worst date of my life, to one of the best 🙂

As I checked my online dating profile, I came across a profile that was hilarious. He quoted the Simpsons in it, looked super cute in his profile pic and just seemed like the coolest guy that I wanted to get to know. This feeling doesn’t happen much, so I knew that I should go with my head and start talking to this cutie. We spoke for a few days, he was incredibly sensitive, as I confided in him that my grandmother had just passed away and I was in an interesting head space. He was super lovely and it turns out that we had heaps in common. We would play stupid games and he would answer all of my questions. After a week we had decided that we would go out for drinks. I was flawed by the fact that he brought up money though and planned that we would go round for round. Don’t get me wrong, I do not expect anything from anyone. But I hate talking about money. I thought this was weird but I still wanted to go out with him.  As I had had a big weekend, I asked if we could do dinner instead. Before we were going to do that though, we were going to add each other on Facebook. This scared the hell out of me. I didn’t want him to see photos of me blind, laughing with my make up running down my face, or my arms out thinking I look like Victoria Beckham when I look like Kirstie Alley and I am not talking about her in Cheers. Against all of my reservations, I added him. The funny thing was we had many mutual friends and he knew good friends of mine quite well. We found it hilarious and I think that he was comforted by this fact. I figured that if we had nothing to talk about, I could at least bring this up. We would talk late into the night and exchanged numbers. He called me and we chatted, I was so nervous but his voice calmed me and he was so easy to talk to. I was excited to get to know him and it subsided my feelings for another unavailable gentleman. He had decided where he was going to take me, as it had excellent vegetarian options, sooooo sweet. 

I was on holidays and ended up seeing my friend – the unavailable gentleman. I got ready for the date and ended up dropping my friend/lover home. The car ride was incredible. He kept on asking details about the upcoming date and I blushed and avoided the questions. As we were friends, there should not be a problem in discussing other people. As he described the girl that he was currently dating, it seemed that everything he mentioned was the opposite of me. I was crushed, how was I going to spring back from this and be my best self on this first date? I cried the entire hour it took, from dropping off my ‘friend’ to where our date would take place. One of my greatest anxieties that I face is going to place, looking around and getting stood up. As I found a park and fixed my make up, I looked over the road and recognised my date. This made me feel much better as we could walk there together. He approached my car and kissed me on the lips. Ohhh wow! This guy was super confident and the kiss took me aback. We nervously strolled to the restaurant together. I was super excited and felt at ease with this tall gentleman that walked beside me with so much swag and a kind heart. I was extremely intrigued. We reached the restaurant and he bought us drinks. I was uncomfortable while he purchased the first round of drinks. The first glass of red went down without a hitch and the conversation was flawless. We ordered dinner and I was so nervous with the whole paying thing yet again. Although the money thing was always in the back of my mind, the realisation that we had so many things in common was lovely. This first date was getting hit out of the park. We ate a delicious dinner and then had more drinks, for which he yet again paid for. I had butterflies full of nervous energy and was not sure if he was enjoying himself as much as I was. We ended up leaving after a few hours.

On the walk to our cars, we ran into a girl friend of his, which he introduced me to. He was super polite and the three of us spoke for a while. After she left, he said something which at first, made me blush like a crazy woman. I am so glad that I got to pay for your dinner when I ordered everything. One of the last dates that I had been on, I paid for her meal and she ended up yelling at me saying ‘don’t you think that I can pay for my own meal?’ His face looked absolutely tortured from that experience and that is why he had brought up the subject of money before the date itself. The poor guy. What a mean woman, she could have gone about that situation in a hundred different ways, but she chose to yell at him? That made me like him more. What a kind guy. When we reached my car, we had a perfect kiss to the end of a perfect date..

Over the next few weeks, we would see each other about every three days. He was funny, we liked all of the same things and our chemistry was electric. We started getting intimate and while I type blushing furiously, I can tell you, just you 😉 that nobody has ever made me feel the way that this certain gentleman has made me feel, I was and maybe am still addicted to his moves. I would fully commit to being Yoko and him being John Lennon and never leave his room again…that’s how addicted I am.

When I think back to my dating history, I have had two major relationships in my life. One I look back on fondly, the thought of him makes me smile and I wish nothing but happiness for him. The other I look back on less favourably and consider that I dodged a bullet by us no longer being together. I like being able to look back at the first and feel like that. I was excited to write about this story because this is another guy that makes me smile like a Cheshire Cat. I like thinking about him, talking about him, talking to him and think he is awesome. I like that feeling 🙂

I hope all of the relationships that follow make me feel that way, even if they end. Like this one just did, in the early hours of the morning, with kind words, a dirty phone call, some tears, but no bad feelings.

Tall, dark and handsome? Part 2

Okay okay okay…So I know that it has taken me a hell of a long time to put my fingertips to keyboard and for that I apologise. So here is the final installment of tall, dark and handsome?

As I walked from my apartment to the street, it felt like it was from a jail cell to the electric chair. The constant stream of questions running through my head, how will it go? Will he like me? The usual questions that run through people’s heads before a blind date. I saw a white Jeep approaching.  I took a deep breath and approached the car. I opened the door and was waiting for a smile to greet me. It didn’t. I got in the car and we spoke nervously, so far not attracted to him. As he drove, I began to get nervous as he kept one eye, looking me up and down judgmentally and one eye on the road. This is going to be a problem. He grunted at me. What the hell, was I doing?!!?!?!?! As this was my first blind date, I forced a smile, so I would eventually feel like what I was projecting. He was taking me to Crown, of course he was going to go through valet parking, if I was meant to be impressed, I wasn’t. We jumped out of the car and I realised that he needed a ladder to get out of it. He definitely knew how to take a photo in which he looks taller. We finally saw each other standing up, I know that he wasn’t impressed but the feeling was definitely mutual. I love a pair of warm brown eyes, his judgmental eyes did not line up, as in one eye was looking at the ground and one eye was looking at the sky. This took me by surprise, while looking at him straight on. My smile muscles have never hurt more. When we walked through the casino, he grunted at me if I would like to eat anything and we continued basically looking like small children running through the casino, with him walking at least 2 steps in front of me.

We arrived at the cinema and Gold Class was full. We had not thought this through, okay, let me revise that, I had not thought this through. In hindsight, I don’t think that he was worried about the movie we were going to watch. He asked if I would like to see ‘Red Dawn’ as an avid movie goer, I was unimpressed that I had not even heard of this movie and was less keen to see it, but that was the only thing on, so he asked for two tickets to see ‘Red Down’, so I found out that he was also illiterate. We waited outside the cinema, while they cleaned it. We sat down and barely spoke, he continued to look me up and down. I retreated to another world, wondering if I should say I was going to the bathroom and get a taxi home, I will definitely never get picked up for a first date again – always drive so I can escape, I could never do that, leave him sitting there unsure and embarrassed, but loved the thought of it. He bought a bottle of water, did not offer to buy me one or tell me where he was going. This guy was most definitely a jerk. Now I may not be timid in my speech, but I am in my actions. So although, I was not at all interested, I did not want to be rude or hurt his feelings, so I smiled through it all, knowing that I could endure the next few hours and go home. As soon as we walked into the cinema, he put the armrest up and his arm around me. For someone that acted like he despised me, this was unexpected. Okay, so my brain failed. This guy was a jerk and I was cuddling up to him. I thought he might be nervous, after all the last few weeks, he had been the perfect gentlemen. We kissed, his breath was terrible, I opened my eyes while we were kissing and his crooked eyes freaked me out, so I quickly closed them again. So we continued to make out. Even as I am writing this, I cringe. He was far more interested in getting further and further, so his hands went down my top and as he grabbed and prodded me. His rough hands pushing through my layers to get through to my soft breasts. The movie was terrible. And every 5 minutes, he would whisper in my ear “lets go back to your place”. To which I would say “No.” He kept on trying to get down my jeans and every time I would grab his hand to hold it instead, he would get mad and throw my hand down and try again. The movie went for sooooo long. I could not look at this guy front on, those cross eyes were definitely a form of karma for trying to violate me. I was so thankful that the date was nearly over, but at the same time, did not know how I was going to get out of the second date if he asked. So we picked up the car, he was quite rude to the super polite valet. On the whole way home he wanted to know if he should pull over so we could hook up in the car. I said “Why? If that was going to happen, wouldn’t we go back to my house?” But I shut it down, that isn’t going to happen. He looked mad and I felt awkward. When we finally approached my house, he turned to me and said “As you have probably guessed, you are not my type.” Excuse me? I was speechless, I laughed in his face and got out of the car. I sent him a message saying “I’m sorry for wasting your time”. But what I really meant was You’re a dick.

Every time I see him on the TV or on the ground with my football team, I laugh. So the date was sooo terrible, but it always reminds me, that if I can get through that and laugh, I can get through anything. After all, its just a few hours.

So the second part of this story is now called Short, Grumpy and cross eyed.

Tall, dark and handsome?

I wouldn’t call myself a romantic. I’m not completely heartless, but my perfect proposal would be, me and (insert dude’s name here) to be sitting on the couch, he looks over at me, says “You are pretty cool, fuck it, lets get married.” Reading that back, that’s actually quite depressing. Okay, now I want to be a some sort of resort with cocktails and get proposed to in our own private pool. As you can see, I have no idea what I want. My fantasy consists of me and the person that I get excited about in all senses to be like, “yeah Bridie, this is awesome, you are awesome, this could mos def work.”

When I took the plunge a couple of years ago to start online dating, I was excited. The thought of  dating real men and going out on real dates, with people that I had never met before, well it actually scared the hell out of me, but I decided to embrace that feeling. On a lazy Saturday afternoon, I decided that I would go online and see what the boys had in store for me. I came across someone, not necessarily my type, but I thought to myself why not? He looks okay and has nice brown eyes. Okay, do not forget the fact that I said he had nice eyes…We started to chat, he was really nice and friendly. I like to think of myself as a realist, so when he told me that he worked for the football team that I barrack for, I was more than skeptical. But, I had a card up my sleeve. Luckily that card is a reliable source and more importantly, my best friend. So while I am chatting to him/completing a thorough background check on the guy, he decides to call me. I hate the phone. I hate not being able to put someone at ease in person, just by smiling at them. I hate that we don’t know each other, so I don’t know, how this conversation is going to go down. Which turns me into a frightened school girl walking home from school, with a weird man following behind her. When in reality he is just going for a walk, picking flowers and shit for his wife. No, he is not a pedophile, the girl is just irrationally scared. Anyway, I speak to him. He turns out to be a really nice guy, so I am getting keener and I am hopeful. So when my best friend states that she does not really think that he is my type, I take it with a grain of salt. He asks if I am free that night to meet him. I decline, partly because I have to go to Clem’s birthday, partly because I want to know more about him. He explains that he is then off on a footy trip and won’t be home for 10 days. Perfect, nothing will be rushed. Clem’s party was hilarious and he text me most of the night, asking for my favourite numbers as those are the horses that he will put bets on. He had explained that they would be out of range for half of the time that he was going to be away. So over the next few days, the texts are constant. He seemed pretty keen, not in a strange way, just in a nice way. He called me before I went to sleep at night and started to call me babe. I have never been a fan of a pet name but I don’t mind getting called babe. Sure there was warning signs, he said his favourite movie was Sister Act and TV show was Border Patrol. Sister Act is an excellent movie, but when you are a 34 year old man, Come on!!! All of these factors were over looked because he was a nice guy. On the weekend, I kept on getting calls from a blocked number. When I finally realised it wasn’t a debt collector, I picked up the phone and it was him. He had walked to a pay phone to call me because he had no service. So sweet. We were both getting excited for our upcoming date on the night that he got back on the Tuesday. On the Sunday, he dropped his phone in water and it had died, so he called me; once off a mate’s phone, once off a coach’s phone and then finally from his hotel phone. The guy sure was keen. I was nervous but really excited. I had basically sent out a group email to everyone I knew, talking about this new guy and creating buzz for this major life event. It was finally Tuesday, I was leaving work early and my boss had given my special jewellery to wear, not over the top at all *cringing at myself*. I went home and completed the finishing touches. I got several texts about how we were going to go to gold class and he would pick me up from home. Rookie mistake number 1. Always drive and you do not want somebody knowing where you live, as my best friend does work with him and I figure he cant really murder me when all of Victoria knows that we are going out tonight. So I wait until he tells me that he is out the front…

 

You’ll just have to wait until next week to find out how it all turns out :p