My blog is one of the worst kept secrets out there. In fact I don't even really try to keep it a secret. All of my friends read it, my husband does [and helps me with my HNT pic's...thank you darling], heck even my accountant reads it. Why don't I keep it secret? Well because I don't really have anything to hide. We have an open marriage and whilst we don't go around broadcasting it, we don't try to hide it. Its just us. Yes, it does mean I do somewhat temper what I write about and who I write about but on the whole it works out well. I even told Mr Big about it, which kind of brings me to the crux of this post.
I did debate long and hard about telling him at the time. Potentially, telling him could have been a relationship killer, but I thought discovering it for himself would have been far worse than me simply telling him. I did think through the ramification of what may happen when the relationship ended and decided that if he still continued to read it and came across some long, bitchy, venty post about him well so bloody be it! A non-confrontation way of letting the other person know how your thinking and feeling...A literary 'fuck you' so to speak.
And thus the relationship did eventually end. And there in front of me was the opportunity to write that long, bitchy, venty post about him. Except what I didn't realise when I made the decision to tell him about my blog, was that I wouldn't actually be interested in writing that 'bitchy' back-handed revenge post. To be fair, I didn't write those type of posts for any of the other men that I have had in my life, although none of them knew about my blog, but then I didn't feel the same way about them as I did about him either.
There is a saying that goes something like this 'The best revenge is a life well lived'. And that is something that I have inadvertently ended up doing post-Mr Big on my blog. So I have blogged about my 'life well lived' and had a lot of fun doing it too! Pushing myself to get out there and do. I have tried some things that I have always wanted to try, like swinging, and have generally kept my life busy and fun-filled. Some of the things I have blogged about, some I haven't yet. Its been a great way of refocussing my life and I have had in the back of my mind, should he pop back for a peek, there is no bitter, lunatic rant [not that I have actually had one even outside of my blog] sitting on my pages! Just fun times and my random thoughts on stuff.
But some how this has managed to come back and bite me on the arse. How? Well there are some things that I want to blog about. Like how my looking for a new fuck buddy has been a complete and utter disaster because my enthusiasm level for it is in negative territory. Mr Damn-near-perfect was dropped in my lap and I managed to find ten really good reasons [in my mind] as to why he wouldn't fit as a FB. Whilst the theory of 'the best way over one man is with another' is indeed a great theory....just not one that's worked out well for me because I think I need to get over one man before I can find another.
I know your all sitting there wondering how this is all a problem and why I can't blog about it, right? Well as any blogger will tell you, blogs have statistic. Its what makes [most] us all into statistics whores...we love knowing how many readers visit us, where they came from, what key words they found us with or which other blogs our reader came from. Statistics so detailed we know what countries and cities you live in. You can see where this is going? Yup, I'm pretty certain Mr Big is peeking. Which is not really a big deal except....I am not writing some of things I want to because I would rather him not know. Not know that I'm not getting over him quite as fast as I thought I would and its tougher than I imagined too, hence the lack of enthusiasm for another FB. The other reason is, seeing those particular stats and visits isn't really helping me to keep him out of my mind, isn't helping me move on.
So why don't I just send him an email telling him to stop peeking? Well that just seems like a really bitchy thing to do [and he was on the receiving end of enough of my bitchiness] and I could also be very wrong, it may not be him at all! I suppose I could well have carried on, just skipping the non-bloggable bits [like this post] and you all and maybe even him would be none the wiser about any of this, but that option just isn't sitting right with me. So this post is about putting it out there, so I can just get on and write about all the bits I want to write about. I am so much better at writing about what I think and feel than actually speaking it out loud, which is why I enjoy blogging so much.
So there, its out there! Would I ever tell the next man in my life about my blog? I don't know, perhaps not. Its one of the many things I have re-evaluated about 'the other man' part of my life. That's the one great thing about life, its ever evolving, ever changing and full of surprises!
HNT: Can I tempt you...
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Temptation is the devil looking through the keyhole. Yielding is opening the door and inviting him in.
Billy Sunday
Happy HNT all.
Happy HNT all.
Random stuff...
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
This is one of those posts, where you have bits and pieces that you want say [and god knows I always have plenty to say!] but not enough to make a decent post out of....hence 'Random stuff'
- Right, notice the little box on the right hand side of your screen? yes, that's it, the new one. Now you can ask me stuff randomly and anonymously. I just know you all are gagging to...oh go....please! I need something new to occupy my tiny mind.
- From the 'Random and Strange Shit That Happens on AFF' file...I get this message the other day from a guy saying he liked my profile so much that he's copied it and is using it for himself. And sure enough, I check his profile and there, word for word, is my profile blub. It was one of those WTF? moments...Although, I did not point out to him that he really needs to delete the bit about 'no cock shots please'.
- Where have all the commenters gone? Is it just me, or is everyone else low on comments? My stats tell me more of you than ever are reading, so don't be shy....comment! Its almost bad enough to make me wish I had my anonymous stalker back again....almost!
- Blogs worth a visit: Barbed Wire Boudoir Shes sarcastic, witty and funny as hell...one of my fav reads. Sex etc Cleofaye has written some seriously, seriously good 'How to..' posts on sex. And guys, if you only read one of them, make it this one! And finally, no day is complete without a visit to Room 1509 They are French and the pictures are very, very hot!
The Hens night...
Sunday, March 21, 2010
My sister and I were recently invited to our cousins hen night. I was deeply unexcited at the prospect of hanging out with a bunch of women I don't know, along with a cousin I really don't know, wearing fairy wings and doing drunken hen night shit. But my sister convinced me that it was unlikely to have fairy wings involved, secondly, it could be a great way to get to know our cousin better and besides, we could turn it into a girls weekend in Auckland. With the fun factory increased by ten and a solemn promise from her that no fairies would be harmed in the making of this weekend off we went.
Friday night was relatively low key for us. Dinner at our favourite restaurant in the viaduct followed by a few drinks at one of those cute little pseudo-Irish pubs with a live band. We kicked around the idea of going to the strippers but decided that if the Hen night was indeed rubbish as I was gloomily predicting it would be an event best saved for making Saturday night not a total loss...what? like y'all don't go to the strippers with your siblings? You dont? ok then, moving right along...
The bulk of Saturday was spent shopping [sheesh, what else would we do!] and then getting ready for the 'big night' *cough* which was kicking off at 3 o'clock. Which was a seriously early start in my opinion, some pacing was going to be required. For all of those out there that don't know, I don't do alcohol terribly well. I am a very, very cheap drunk, a one-glass-wonder in fact. And when I hit my limit, I go to sleep. Period. It doesn't matter where I am or what I'm doing, its lights out, yup, even in the middle of sex. That's a whole other story tho.
Any way, our Aunt picked us up and off we troddled to the cousins friends house to celebrate one of the hen's last nights of freedom. We had all been told to wear all black, which was a cute concept as we all ended up with brightly coloured feather boa's while our poor cousin was stuck in a truly hideous 80's pink out fit, complete with bright pink veil and flashing, bobbling cock head-band [which her sister had picked out, who is definitely my favourite cousin of the two]
So there we were, my sister and I stuck with about sixteen lawyers [nothing against lawyers you understand but they are just a tiny bit low on fun factor] our other cousin and our aunt [really, who has their mum at their hen night!] We played the requisite hen night games, one of which was a kind of pub quiz about the hen herself. I certainly got to know a lot more about my cousin. One of the questions was, Which on this list didn't she sleep with at university? [it was a bloody long list] and apparently it was her lecturer, promiscuity runs in the family, who knew?
A few more games including carving cocks out of cheese it was time to head into town. Thank goodness, I was having pacing problems and would have quite happily thrown a whole of wine down straight by this point. Next on the agenda was a burlesque dancing lesson. To be fair this was a hell of a lot of fun [or maybe that was just the free margaritas talking] and it made for some hilarious facebook photos later on! The H on looking at them commented...Oh look, you can see your knickers, there's a surprise!
Next up was dinner. My sister and I ended up at opposite ends of the table and I thought that maybe it was a great opportunity to get to know some of the others there. Or not. I was next to my aunt, situation potentially salvageable by getting her pissed and getting all of her cougar stories out of her [she's the Remuera cougar from hell and she does it well!] but sadly she had the same idea as I, staying sober and well behaved was the way to go. Lets face it, at the wedding no one wants to be pointed out as the drunk chick who danced on the table with her top off at the hens night.
To be fair, I did try hard to make conversation with my surrounding new lawyer friends but gave up after an hour or so of trying, even my aunt was struggling with the lot we were stuck with. Dinner was only salvaged by large quantities of wine [which appeared to be having no fuckin effect, I had given up trying to be well behaved] and nipping outside to swap horror stories about our dinner companions with my sister. I think she won the horror stories game with the chick sitting opposite her, that stalks all her ex-boyfriends on facebook (she's married) and thought that all the food was 'omg gross, I cant eat that!' I got the dieter from hell. Seriously who flys all the way from London for her friends wedding and only has a diet shake on the hen night, nothing else, no food, no drinks, just the diet shake...and as a side note, I spotted her at the wedding outside drinking her freaking diet shake! I don't know whether to admire her commitment or think she's a complete freak!
Finally dinner was over and it was time to hit the pubs and clubs. Sadly walking down the road the heel on my shoe broke. My sister and I swapped looks and muttered 'oh dear, what a shame, we better go back to the hotel and get some more shoes' [and my H wonders why my suitcase is always half filled with shoes, for moments like these of course!] So with promises to catch up with the rest of them later [yeah right] we headed back to our hotel.
We get back to our room and my sister says she's in the mood to keep drinking, I heartily agreed, this night couldn't possibly be over yet! So I suggested:
Shall we go and catch up with J and her hen night? [one of my sisters friends who was also having her hen night in Auckland on the same night]
meh
Wanna grab a bottle of wine and keep drinking here and talk some shit [we are soooo good at that]
meh
Ok then, the casino?
meh
Bar down the road? [I am seriously running out of suggestions here....]
meh
Just as Im getting ready to throw a pillow at her, she asks
How far away is that swingers club you went to?
At the end of the road
Can you drink there?
yup
Are there people there to talk to?
Ah, yup they are all pretty friendly [as most people are when they want to get into your knickers]
Shall we go?
WHAT? What about the strippers?
Nope, I want to go the swingers club. When am I ever going to get another chance? Chairman Mao [her partner] would never be interested in going to one.
Are you sure?
Yes.
At this point I had this very small internal debate....Do I take my little sister to a swingers club??? Oh what the fuck, who am I to stomp on her hopes and dreams!
And the rest of the story? Well I am going to leave that to your imagination. We went, we had fun and no, in case your wondering we don't fuck together. That's just eww wrong icky! The rest stays in the 'sisters secrets' box!
Friday night was relatively low key for us. Dinner at our favourite restaurant in the viaduct followed by a few drinks at one of those cute little pseudo-Irish pubs with a live band. We kicked around the idea of going to the strippers but decided that if the Hen night was indeed rubbish as I was gloomily predicting it would be an event best saved for making Saturday night not a total loss...what? like y'all don't go to the strippers with your siblings? You dont? ok then, moving right along...
The bulk of Saturday was spent shopping [sheesh, what else would we do!] and then getting ready for the 'big night' *cough* which was kicking off at 3 o'clock. Which was a seriously early start in my opinion, some pacing was going to be required. For all of those out there that don't know, I don't do alcohol terribly well. I am a very, very cheap drunk, a one-glass-wonder in fact. And when I hit my limit, I go to sleep. Period. It doesn't matter where I am or what I'm doing, its lights out, yup, even in the middle of sex. That's a whole other story tho.
Any way, our Aunt picked us up and off we troddled to the cousins friends house to celebrate one of the hen's last nights of freedom. We had all been told to wear all black, which was a cute concept as we all ended up with brightly coloured feather boa's while our poor cousin was stuck in a truly hideous 80's pink out fit, complete with bright pink veil and flashing, bobbling cock head-band [which her sister had picked out, who is definitely my favourite cousin of the two]
So there we were, my sister and I stuck with about sixteen lawyers [nothing against lawyers you understand but they are just a tiny bit low on fun factor] our other cousin and our aunt [really, who has their mum at their hen night!] We played the requisite hen night games, one of which was a kind of pub quiz about the hen herself. I certainly got to know a lot more about my cousin. One of the questions was, Which on this list didn't she sleep with at university? [it was a bloody long list] and apparently it was her lecturer, promiscuity runs in the family, who knew?
A few more games including carving cocks out of cheese it was time to head into town. Thank goodness, I was having pacing problems and would have quite happily thrown a whole of wine down straight by this point. Next on the agenda was a burlesque dancing lesson. To be fair this was a hell of a lot of fun [or maybe that was just the free margaritas talking] and it made for some hilarious facebook photos later on! The H on looking at them commented...Oh look, you can see your knickers, there's a surprise!
Next up was dinner. My sister and I ended up at opposite ends of the table and I thought that maybe it was a great opportunity to get to know some of the others there. Or not. I was next to my aunt, situation potentially salvageable by getting her pissed and getting all of her cougar stories out of her [she's the Remuera cougar from hell and she does it well!] but sadly she had the same idea as I, staying sober and well behaved was the way to go. Lets face it, at the wedding no one wants to be pointed out as the drunk chick who danced on the table with her top off at the hens night.
To be fair, I did try hard to make conversation with my surrounding new lawyer friends but gave up after an hour or so of trying, even my aunt was struggling with the lot we were stuck with. Dinner was only salvaged by large quantities of wine [which appeared to be having no fuckin effect, I had given up trying to be well behaved] and nipping outside to swap horror stories about our dinner companions with my sister. I think she won the horror stories game with the chick sitting opposite her, that stalks all her ex-boyfriends on facebook (she's married) and thought that all the food was 'omg gross, I cant eat that!' I got the dieter from hell. Seriously who flys all the way from London for her friends wedding and only has a diet shake on the hen night, nothing else, no food, no drinks, just the diet shake...and as a side note, I spotted her at the wedding outside drinking her freaking diet shake! I don't know whether to admire her commitment or think she's a complete freak!
Finally dinner was over and it was time to hit the pubs and clubs. Sadly walking down the road the heel on my shoe broke. My sister and I swapped looks and muttered 'oh dear, what a shame, we better go back to the hotel and get some more shoes' [and my H wonders why my suitcase is always half filled with shoes, for moments like these of course!] So with promises to catch up with the rest of them later [yeah right] we headed back to our hotel.
We get back to our room and my sister says she's in the mood to keep drinking, I heartily agreed, this night couldn't possibly be over yet! So I suggested:
Shall we go and catch up with J and her hen night? [one of my sisters friends who was also having her hen night in Auckland on the same night]
meh
Wanna grab a bottle of wine and keep drinking here and talk some shit [we are soooo good at that]
meh
Ok then, the casino?
meh
Bar down the road? [I am seriously running out of suggestions here....]
meh
Just as Im getting ready to throw a pillow at her, she asks
How far away is that swingers club you went to?
At the end of the road
Can you drink there?
yup
Are there people there to talk to?
Ah, yup they are all pretty friendly [as most people are when they want to get into your knickers]
Shall we go?
WHAT? What about the strippers?
Nope, I want to go the swingers club. When am I ever going to get another chance? Chairman Mao [her partner] would never be interested in going to one.
Are you sure?
Yes.
At this point I had this very small internal debate....Do I take my little sister to a swingers club??? Oh what the fuck, who am I to stomp on her hopes and dreams!
And the rest of the story? Well I am going to leave that to your imagination. We went, we had fun and no, in case your wondering we don't fuck together. That's just eww wrong icky! The rest stays in the 'sisters secrets' box!
HNT: Hotel Part Four...
Thursday, March 18, 2010
This is the final picture in this series and it is definitely my favourite. Happy HNT!
'Do you think I'm special?
Do you think I'm nice?
Am I bright enough to shine in your spaces?'
- One Republic...All the right moves
Be sure to go and visit Osbasso and see who else is playing along this week.
I got fucked...
Monday, March 15, 2010
I want to be fucked and I want it rough...most of all, I want it now.
I want you to pull my hair, call me slut, spank my arse, I want it to hurt. Pin me to the wall, make me yours...I dare you to...
No, don't treat me nice, I know you can, but not now, not today.
I want it raw. The bruises will fade and marks will heal, right now, I just want to feel, I just want to be fucked.
I want you to let go, be rough, you know you want to, I know you can, just do it now. Bend me over, grab and hand full of hair and slide your cock into me. I dare you to...
I want you to slide your hands up my chest and pinch and pull my nipples, that's it, just harder, make me feel.
I want to scrape my nails down your back, leaving red raw marks that will last for days. I want to bite you, brand you, please return the favour.
I want you to dig your fingers in to my flesh, take whats yours, take me any way you want.
I want to you to slide your hand around my throat, just as I cum.
And when I walk away, I will feel, that I got fucked...well and truly.
This suits my mood today. A huge thanks to Kimberly for organising us all and coming up with this months topic. Please visit everyone else who is participating in this months 'May I seduce you' I am sure they have done a better job than I!
Ronjazz
Adulterous Letch
Britni
Autumn
They belong to us
Hubman
Veronica
Topaz
Dreamwalker
Gray
Bri
Spring Flower
Kimberly
Choc'ladee
I want you to pull my hair, call me slut, spank my arse, I want it to hurt. Pin me to the wall, make me yours...I dare you to...
No, don't treat me nice, I know you can, but not now, not today.
I want it raw. The bruises will fade and marks will heal, right now, I just want to feel, I just want to be fucked.
I want you to let go, be rough, you know you want to, I know you can, just do it now. Bend me over, grab and hand full of hair and slide your cock into me. I dare you to...
I want you to slide your hands up my chest and pinch and pull my nipples, that's it, just harder, make me feel.
I want to scrape my nails down your back, leaving red raw marks that will last for days. I want to bite you, brand you, please return the favour.
I want you to dig your fingers in to my flesh, take whats yours, take me any way you want.
I want to you to slide your hand around my throat, just as I cum.
And when I walk away, I will feel, that I got fucked...well and truly.
This suits my mood today. A huge thanks to Kimberly for organising us all and coming up with this months topic. Please visit everyone else who is participating in this months 'May I seduce you' I am sure they have done a better job than I!
Ronjazz
Adulterous Letch
Britni
Autumn
They belong to us
Hubman
Veronica
Topaz
Dreamwalker
Gray
Bri
Spring Flower
Kimberly
Choc'ladee
HNT: Hotel Part Three...
Thursday, March 11, 2010
There is something about the morning light that is just amazing...the view out the window was pretty amazing too! Happy HNT!
Be sure to check out Osbasso to see who else is playing along this week.
Be sure to check out Osbasso to see who else is playing along this week.
Am I already a cougar???
Monday, March 8, 2010
I have been getting an astonishingly large amount of profile views and messages lately from 18 to 26 year olds....does this mean that I am already a cougar? Dear god I hope not....I had assumed that I had a few more years to go before that happened. And really, I do want to be a cougar...when I grow up!
I'm not entirely sure why on earth these young guys think I would be the slightest bit interested in teaching them how to eat pussy and fuck....for free! Yup, that's pretty much what their messages consist of "...looking for an older woman to teach me how to please a woman in bed" My best advice sunshine...listen to what she's telling you. But given that twenty-something males are not prone to listening on any level, its fairly wasted advice. Although, I have heard a rumour that at that age they can keep it hard all night and go again and again and again....food for thought ;)
I have only really had one encounter of the cougar-kind but to be fair I really don't think he realised I was over ten years older than him [I look quite youthful for my age] Anyway, a long story short....I was in a bar with some friends and when I'm out drinking I don't like using the ladies loo's. No offence girls, but after midnight the ladies loos are fairly gross and there is always someone up-chucking in there, so I use the boys room. Lets face it guys very rarely sit down on a night out and they are nice enough to throw up outside, ergo the stalls are relatively clean.
So use the boys room I did and this young guy was obviously so impressed/in awe/in shock at my audacity that he had to start a conversation which kind of quickly lead to him daring me to kiss him, never one to turn down a challenge like that, I did [Oh and he was very hot, or maybe that was the tequila goggles talking] After that surprisingly good kiss, I had to ask how old he was. 'About the same age as you' he replied 'And that would be?' I asked. '25' Needless to say, I snorted and bolted back to my friends.
Oh and if your ever tempted to use the men's room yourself you must have a smart-arse reply for one of the twenty idiots lined up at the urinal that will ask you to come hold his cock...'Sure darlin, how do you like your shoes, damp or soaking wet?' usually works for me.
So I am quite sure, that somewhere in my future, I will be stalking 18 year olds in bars. Probably wearing a too-tight/too short animal print dress, way too much gold jewellery and make-up, one day, but not just yet...
I'm not entirely sure why on earth these young guys think I would be the slightest bit interested in teaching them how to eat pussy and fuck....for free! Yup, that's pretty much what their messages consist of "...looking for an older woman to teach me how to please a woman in bed" My best advice sunshine...listen to what she's telling you. But given that twenty-something males are not prone to listening on any level, its fairly wasted advice. Although, I have heard a rumour that at that age they can keep it hard all night and go again and again and again....food for thought ;)
I have only really had one encounter of the cougar-kind but to be fair I really don't think he realised I was over ten years older than him [I look quite youthful for my age] Anyway, a long story short....I was in a bar with some friends and when I'm out drinking I don't like using the ladies loo's. No offence girls, but after midnight the ladies loos are fairly gross and there is always someone up-chucking in there, so I use the boys room. Lets face it guys very rarely sit down on a night out and they are nice enough to throw up outside, ergo the stalls are relatively clean.
So use the boys room I did and this young guy was obviously so impressed/in awe/in shock at my audacity that he had to start a conversation which kind of quickly lead to him daring me to kiss him, never one to turn down a challenge like that, I did [Oh and he was very hot, or maybe that was the tequila goggles talking] After that surprisingly good kiss, I had to ask how old he was. 'About the same age as you' he replied 'And that would be?' I asked. '25' Needless to say, I snorted and bolted back to my friends.
Oh and if your ever tempted to use the men's room yourself you must have a smart-arse reply for one of the twenty idiots lined up at the urinal that will ask you to come hold his cock...'Sure darlin, how do you like your shoes, damp or soaking wet?' usually works for me.
So I am quite sure, that somewhere in my future, I will be stalking 18 year olds in bars. Probably wearing a too-tight/too short animal print dress, way too much gold jewellery and make-up, one day, but not just yet...
HNT: Hotel Part Two...
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Well this is about as nekkid as your ever going to see me! [Not very half-nekkid I know!] Six floors up with the amazing lights of the city below...
As I was looking down, I couldn't help wonder who was looking up and if they could see me?...I hope so!
Happy HNT!
As I was looking down, I couldn't help wonder who was looking up and if they could see me?...I hope so!
Happy HNT!
Be sure to pop along and visit Osbasso to see who else is playing along this week.
A good fuck buddy is hard to find...
Monday, March 1, 2010
Why is it that a good fuck buddy is hard to find...You would think that it would be a simple process of logging onto AFF, trawling through the multitude of messages your profile throws up, choose a man [or two] that fits your criteria, meet for coffee to check he's not a psychopath in disguise [and he is and appears to be what he says he is] and proceed to the nearest hotel to have what you would hope to be, a decent shag. Sounds so simple doesn't it?
Its bloody not! I am quite sure that it wasn't this challenging the last time around. Or maybe its me...maybe I am just being too picky...Nah, standards must be maintained!
So after barely a week I was left banging my head against the wall, wondering why I do this to myself? [Because I like to have a no-strings fuck buddy around for when I'm in the mood for it] Although, to be fair, some of the grief was entirely my own fault. For some strange reason, I thought it would be fun to do a wee social experiment and reply to every message I received...I entirely blame Riff and his ilk for this.
Their collective whining on about how women never reply to their messages made me think that it was unfair of us females to do so. And since I don't live above the equator my inbox generally wont have 150 messages in it after one day like those poor northern women, so as an experiment it was do-able. Besides, maybe I was missing out on a diamond in the rough by ruthlessly culling out every man that didn't immediately fit my criteria...
What the fuck was I thinking? Seriously, I should have my Slutty Girl membership revoked for such idiotic behaviour. I lasted three days...hey, I have perseverance if nothing else and some seriously good blog fodder, omg the stories I have for you...The moral of that wee story is, do not reply! If he doesn't fit your pre-set criteria, do not be kind, just ignore, there are no diamonds in the rough lurking in your inbox.
And I know that sounds incredibly hard to those guys reading this that are often ignored, but really, a few wankers out there really do ruin it for the rest of you. If your not a wanker, go read Riff's series on how to write a good profile and score yourself a MILF, I have no doubt that if you follow his simple 12-step program you will be successful!
So with my social experiment hastily put to one side, I was free to discard with gay abandon those that didn't fit and start conversations with those that did. Which led to....more head banging!
Then, just as I was about to abandon all hope of finding a decent fuck buddy, a wee glimmer or two appeared on the horizon...
Its bloody not! I am quite sure that it wasn't this challenging the last time around. Or maybe its me...maybe I am just being too picky...Nah, standards must be maintained!
So after barely a week I was left banging my head against the wall, wondering why I do this to myself? [Because I like to have a no-strings fuck buddy around for when I'm in the mood for it] Although, to be fair, some of the grief was entirely my own fault. For some strange reason, I thought it would be fun to do a wee social experiment and reply to every message I received...I entirely blame Riff and his ilk for this.
Their collective whining on about how women never reply to their messages made me think that it was unfair of us females to do so. And since I don't live above the equator my inbox generally wont have 150 messages in it after one day like those poor northern women, so as an experiment it was do-able. Besides, maybe I was missing out on a diamond in the rough by ruthlessly culling out every man that didn't immediately fit my criteria...
What the fuck was I thinking? Seriously, I should have my Slutty Girl membership revoked for such idiotic behaviour. I lasted three days...hey, I have perseverance if nothing else and some seriously good blog fodder, omg the stories I have for you...The moral of that wee story is, do not reply! If he doesn't fit your pre-set criteria, do not be kind, just ignore, there are no diamonds in the rough lurking in your inbox.
And I know that sounds incredibly hard to those guys reading this that are often ignored, but really, a few wankers out there really do ruin it for the rest of you. If your not a wanker, go read Riff's series on how to write a good profile and score yourself a MILF, I have no doubt that if you follow his simple 12-step program you will be successful!
So with my social experiment hastily put to one side, I was free to discard with gay abandon those that didn't fit and start conversations with those that did. Which led to....more head banging!
Then, just as I was about to abandon all hope of finding a decent fuck buddy, a wee glimmer or two appeared on the horizon...
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