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.

The Pencils Of Promise 2011 Charity Gala

 

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.Β Mos def not my cup of tea.Β 

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 ‘IΒ obliged’Β would be the name of my autobiography. Not just in relation to sex but in regards to my whole life.

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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…