Get up sex machine

I spend the majority of my life with conflicting thoughts. Who is hotter, the guy from Preacher or the guy from The Handmaid’s tale? Should I eat low-fat to save calories or eat full fat because it doesn’t contain the same chemicals? Who should I write about next? The guy with the baby dick or the guy that made me blush like a schoolgirl in his presence? I have decided to discuss the guy that gave me butterflies.

I’m not overly romantic. I currently believe that most people settle, because to be in a couple is what is expected. For the first few years it may be love but I don’t know if I believe in… forever. People change, you compromise yourself. The shit they did in the beginning was cute but then you grow to hate their little quirks and slowly get filled with resentment. Someone is often more in love than the other. Maybe I’m wrong. I don’t claim to have the answers. Anyway, what I do find extremely hot is longing. People caught up in the moment, trying not to give into their most basic primal urges. IT’S HOT. In the 2005 movie version of Pride and Prejudice, Mr. Darcy helps Elizabeth Bennet into the carriage simply by offering his hand. As he walks away from her the next shot is of his hand, he stretches out his fingers, like his flesh had awoken, just by touching her hand.

We live in 2017 and I just spoke about my favourite scene being as small as two people touching hands. (Is something wrong with me?)

There are a few similar scenes in the Handmaid’s Tale. June and Nick next to each other facing forward while their fingers graze each other, followed by separate shots of their eyes closed while they react to the moment. Throughout the first season there are so many moments of want and need for each other, the brooding glances, without any words. I get sucked into it, the butterflies from stolen looks. Being restricted from your basic desires. The need to reach out and explore someone else, feeling the heat of each other. It is something that we often take for granted when and if we are in a relationship for a long time, because we tend to not take the time to carefully explore each other. Soooo, I think that I’m attracted to feelings of lust, rather than love.

The following story is my version of it. The giddiness I felt from being in the room with a someone I had just met and the weeks that followed.

Over Easter this year I worked…worked every day in a kitchen at a bar over the comedy festival. It’s my favourite time of year. I love to laugh (that is such a redundant statement) but stand up is my thing. I try to get to as many shows as possible over the month but that wasn’t possible with all of the work that I was doing. But luckily the bar that I worked out ran free comedy, I thought we knew the majority of the amateur comedians that were performing at the pub but we met a few newbies over the time. It was the third weekend and the first Saturday night for the second group, Clem and I were having a great time, but I was a bit homesick and missing my niece and nephew. I decided to make them cool gifts, to let them know that I was thinking of them. Some of the regulars were there as well as some of the lingering comedians that were playing pool. One dude that was playing pool with them was hot, but I wasn’t too phased, I was actually more excited about the gifts that I was making the kids. We weren’t paying much attention to the comedians and one of our mates brought an extremely drunk dude in, who we hadn’t met before. He ended up dropping the gift and it smashed…absolutely everywhere. I was furious and so upset. He was such a dickkkkkk. Not too long later we kicked everyone out because I was over it and just wanted to Christian Bale (leave.)

The next day we rock in and a guy thanked Clem for letting them stay behind while they drank and played pool. She told me his name, it didn’t ring any bells. It seemed that there were plenty of comedians that we did not know. His name was Tom. His eyes looked right through me, he was fucking gorgeous. He was extremely polite to us and hilarious. He would intimidate James Brown and have me in tears of laughter. I instantly had eggplant emoji’s in my eyes. This guy is stunning, funny and thoughtful. His voice was low and raspy, which was helping  the desires that were playing on a loop in my head. After some Facebook research, it turned out that he had previously lived with people that I had grown up with, which was so weird.  I looked forward to my shifts and to seeing him, while trying to play it down.

I would walk out of the kitchen into the bar and there he was. Our eyes would meet before my head would drop down, the colour rushing straight to my cheeks to betray me. I would carry on with what I had to do before returning to my sanctuary that the kitchen provided. Depending on where I was, I was sometimes greeted with a kiss on the cheek or when he was leaving. On a Saturday night, he was wasted and I was extremely forward, (not face to face of course, but sneaky Facebook Messenger). He left with some dudes to go to another pub and watch the premier league, Clem and I were meant to follow after we had shut the pub. I followed them out and on the corner, he came back and kissed me before leaving. I pinched myself, did that really happen? Writing about it 4 months later, I am second guessing myself all over again. I couldn’t wait to get the next pub. But it didn’t happen…

The next day was the last night of the festival…I am not the most competitive person, but when a girl walked in and was so obviously keen on Tom, I started seeing red. The Kill Bill music was in my head. Who was this girl? I was getting ridiculously jelly while watching them play pool. Luckily I had other distractions, like the fact that we had now run out of a beer. Yep, a pub with an event on without beer. Nothing on tap and the fridge was emptying very quickly. So now there were three of us in the running. The other chick was an extremely dominant comedian, that scared the shit out of me, I get the feeling that she was banging a different comedian and was up for a threesome. There was the three of us with the elusive Tom in our sites. Hmm this was going to be tricky.

The guy that ran the festival was being a bit of a dick to Tom, so he didn’t want to be there. He wanted to finish his show and leave. I liquored him up for his final show and the night seemed to go really quickly. I was hoping that his mood would change and he would end up staying.

When he was leaving he followed me behind the bar, entering the other room. He was saying goodbye while I was begging him to stay. He went to kiss me on the cheek, but I moved and his lips found mine. There was time for a few stolen kisses, before stopping as we weren’t the only ones in the room. My smile reached my eyes…I wanted more. The kisses although totally satisfying, weren’t enough. I needed him and I needed him badly. However, I was pretty psyched that I was the one that ended up kissing him. I only realised later when we were chatting online that the other chick had taken him home last week when they were drunk. I was mortified. I felt so stupid. He downplayed it, but I would soon find out that it didn’t really matter. As I didn’t realise that this would be the last time that I would see him.

He left…

The man with the deep brown eyes, moved back interstate to his family. He packed his things and said goodbye to his friends. We didn’t have time to catch up before he left. Why would we? We had only known each other for just over a week. Now I sometimes send him, highly inappropriate shit by message but he is so sweet, he just laughs it off… like I am sure he will do with this blog post. So now I am left with memories of a few stolen kisses and sideways glances while all I wanted him to do was bend me over the pool table.

Those fucking eyes. *sigh*

 

 

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.

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…

 

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!!!

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.

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.

 

 

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.

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…

NO-MEN-BRO: Day 5

I was so productive this morning, I got so many things done that I had been putting off. Fast forward to this evening and I’m a total bitch. Yep, we are there, I don’t know if I need to sleep for 92235939394 hours or be thrown up against a wall in a fit of passion…hmmm maybe both. Either way I am ending the day with a massive Liz Lemon eye roll.

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.