To Die By Your Side Is Such A Heavenly Way To Die...

I used to think that love would be something that would come easily.
It did come easily.
I've fallen in love several times, each time more intense than the last. Each time realising that love isn't something that just happens, just like happiness isn't something that just happens... It continues and it either grows or wilts and fades away...

My parents for instance. They were my true life fairytale.
Met at a New Years party.
My mother was there feeling a bit down, she'd recently been dumped by her fiancee, the supposed love of her life.
My father was ten years older than her.
Less than eleven months later they're getting married and my mother is already 2 months pregnant with my sister.... (I'm not going to say the figures but they're almost at their ruby anniversary now )

I thought this was true love. Fast, intense and lasting.
Until one day I asked my parents how my dad had proposed.... Expecting some grand story I was severely disappointed....
Dad: I didn't ask her to marry me...
Me: What do you mean?!
Mum: Well, we just decided to get married.
Me: You...decided?
Dad: Yes, we wanted to run a pub together and in those days you had to be married.
Me: ....

Pretty much the day when my dreams were shot down.
Anyhow. I soon realised that love isn't really as simple as everyone would like you to believe.

Like now. I want to be with someone so desperately. It just isn't that simple...

Sex Toys and STI's

I recently had an experience of tackling the subject of Sexually Transmitted Infections with a new love interest.
(Do you notice how I start all my stories with 'recently'?)

Now. Before you take this as some kind of new-angle take of writing a blog about the more serious things in life or trying to 'teach' others new things, I'm not.

This is how the situation should have gone...

Me: I think before we do anything together sexually we should both make sure we're free from sti's.
Him: Yeah, I think that's a good idea.

This is how the situation actually went.... (Condensed and simplified)

Me: I want to suck your dick.
Him: I want to go down on you.

Half-naked times commence.

Me: I want to have sex with you.
Him: Okay, let me get a condom.
Me: I'm on the pill.
Him: Errrm....
Me: Oh... Are you worried about the other thing?
Him: Yes.
Me: I see. Well. But.... I don't understand, you just went down on me... If you're gonna get something... You can get it from that as well...
Him: What.

At this point I explain that sexual fluids are sexual fluids and have to break it to him that you can still get aids just from giving oral sex. Sigh. Making him feel stupid. Feel like a bitch.

Him: Well, since my last STI check-up I've used a condom everytime I've had sex.
Me: Yes but I've only had sex with a girl wearing a strap on since I last had a check-up. And she's a porn star. They have to be checked all the time and be safe....I'm pretty sure you can't catch an STI from a strap-on! (Sigh. I'm being a bitch again.)
Him: .....


And now it's almost Christmas. I have to try and get a sex-test around the Christmas period.

It's going to be ages before I can have sex.

I feel like I'm living in a, safe-sex at the holidays, booklet...

Father Christmas's Guide To Safe Holiday Sex!  

I think I'm onto a winner...

Lovers Come And Lovers Go

My lover. You know. The one with the girlfriend.

That came to an end point of late.

Not because we had some huge argument or because there was some kind of Coronation Street/Eastenders show down of all parties involved.

It was just because he didn't have time for me as well as her.

In this I'd like to state that I ended this. Not him.
I draw point to this to make it clear;

Never, ever, let a man have you hanging on.
Never be with someone who gives you less than you want.


Sorry to be a bit more of some kind of 'girl-power' ego personality than usual but you know, it's life and go suck on my dildo if you don't like it. Hmph.

First, Second, Third?

I was thinking about my first kiss the other day. Nothing too inspiring or thought-provoking. Not exactly a core-shaker.

However, I've just thought about my 'timeline of events' and I've just realised that actually, that can't have been my first kiss. I think I was mistaking it for my first boyfriend...
Yep, went out with the guy for 3 weeks before getting bored and finding someone new.


So what's the problem, just a little misunderstanding, understandable considering it was longer ago than last month...

Well, now trying to recall...Who the hell was my first kiss?


There was a guy I was 'going out with', nicknamed him 'Kent'. (The clue's there, I'm not giving away his identity.)
I remember we did...other stuff... Did we kiss? We must have done. Kissing comes before everything else right? Hmmm....


I realise this kind of mental block may not be an inspiring topic or even very amusing.... Who was your first kiss? Do you remember it unlike me??

Irony...

...Is when you basically just have an argument because you realise you're falling in love.

Aside from that I had a cracker of a compliment from a guy a while ago...


'It's like Lego penis and vagina.'

A Weekend In Another World

I spent some of a recent weekend with my current love affair.

We lived the life I want.


We sat in the sunshine, we drank summer drinks, we went for dinner, we strolled through beautiful places, we kissed behind rails of clothes in shops....


So, just to turn this away from sounding like a stupidly gag-inducing post I'd like to clearly state now. We fucked.


We fucked so much we tore the sheet on the bed.... (Sorry hotel people.)




Later on, after a much needed sustenance break, we resumed with our antics.

We are just as amazing in bed as we are out of it.


And then something even more magical happens.... Remember that kiss under the fairy lights? The perfect moment for a kiss? Yep... Well, this is more magical...

He comes. While inside of me. (Yes I know this isn't something that's magical.) I'm in a kneeling position on him and he's sat up. 
He comes. And then I come. He sets me off. I almost knock him out in my shuddering orgasm. (That's the magical part.)


Something out of a novel right?
Well, what makes it more magical for me is that... I never come in sex.

This isn't down to my partners I'd like to say. I fully enjoy sex but I don't enjoy it when someone's spending their time trying to make me orgasm and I'm like, seriously, this is great but my clitoris is used to vibrating rabbit ears. Let's not spend so much time on it that it becomes awkward.

And let's face it. Who the hell wants sex that's just about one person. You might as well be masturbating. On your own.


So, in the past. There have only been two people who have achieved this magic. (Yep, decided to carry on using 'magic' as my appropriate metaphor.)

They've both been long term boyfriends.

The first, I'll just point out, was when I was 16/17.
I didn't even know what an orgasm was. And we weren't even having sex. But this happened on three separate occasions until my best friend and I had a talk and she confirmed that indeed, I'd been having orgasms. (Something that was rather an amusing in-joke between us.)


The other, last happened, sometime in 2009? Is that right? (Like I'm asking my vagina that question....)



Where this whole event gets worse is when I'm talking to one of my friends about it. (The same one who thinks my life is 'hilarious'.)
I confess that this has only happened with people I've been in love with and that even then, it was never so.....synchronised.
She gasps. (Maybe.)

'This basically means you love him!'

I protest. Of course it doesn't. I can't describe my feelings really, although I do admit that having a best friend and then having passionate sex with them does basically make it a relationship kind of feeling.
But, no! It's not like that....

She just looks at me and says 'You're in trouble.'


And of course, she's right.


Damn.

Week In, Week Out

Oh the wonders a week can bring.While out for a rendez-vous with a girlfriend (It was our anniversary) we'd decided to stop in on a bar, before going home, as a colleage was out for their birthday.

I'd been there for less than ten minutes (But who's counting?) when I noticed a guy sat at one of the tables.

Oh yes, I recognise that person, I'm sure it's one of Sparkle guy's friends..... Oh yes, that's it, I met him a few weeks ago....But wait.... Oh, oh yes, that would be Sparkle guy, sat there, with his back to me....


However. Sparkle guy lost his sparkle a couple of weeks ago and it turned out that he has no more sparkle than any other man. It's just very unfortunate that he happened to break my hope as a result of it.
So, like the with-it girl I am, I carried on like there was no pink elephant in the room. I sipped away at my wine (Ok, I gulped, I'd had a shock) and involved myself in the group conversation about.... Well, I wasn't really listening... I just kept my peripherol vision wide open in case he turned and noticed me.


He didn't ever turn round. And instead I started to burn holes in the back of his head by staring at it. I promptly addressed the time and urged that we should leave.

So that was a slight disaster that took me straight back up to being on edge and slightly paranoid of seeing certain individuals like this out and about.



You'd think my week couldn't get any worse right? Well, you're wrong. (Obviously, as this post is continuing.)

My working days have been lightened up dramatically by the sighting of this cute wild rabbit that I affectionately named Peter. (As in, Peter Rabbit.) (As in, not very original.)

So, I've been seeing Peter for the last few weeks. Usually on my way home from work and then I started seeing him in the mornings as well! Nibbling away at the weeds/grass (Yes, I really am talking about a real rabbit.) and doing general rabbit things.

I've started saying hello to him and he's started to get more relaxed, basking in the sun when it's shining or just by carrying on munching away at some dandelions.



Now, a couple of days ago, I was on my way home, wondering if I'd get to see my favourite rabbit (alive and fluffy type) when I realed back in horror! I shouted OH MY GOD! (so loudly that I'm quite glad no one else was around...) and my heart started pounding.

Someone had come along and cut the grass! All of it! Gone! Nothing for Peter to hide behind or underneath. Nothing for him to eat. I am distraught.

I haven't seen Peter since the grass has been cut.

I'm worried for his safety.


And that, that just topped my week off for me. I hope other people have had better things to happen or to talk about than something as pathetic yet completely unfortunately true as my weeks events?

Peace

A Walk In The Park

So.

Following on from my last post I'd just like to give you an experience I had recently.

I had a day in London with a current affair a while back. It was wonderful. Tense. Exciting.


He held my umbrella for me. Very charming. (Doesn't take a lot to impress me.)


We'd been pressed into each other's personal spaces all day. ALL DAY.

If there's one thing I do adore about the London tube system it's that. What an excuse to press up against someone. (Hell, if strange men can use it as an excuse to press against me then I'm going to use it as an excuse to press against someone I know!)

What a thriller. It's like some kind of exhibitionist tantric foreplay.


Eventually, after getting wet (in the rain), having dinner (and being the most charming couple to the waiter), drinking cocktails and the abuse of busy tube services we went down Southbank, along the river. (Romantic).

It gets worse. We get to an opening in the path and within all the bricks of the path are lots of small spotlights in blue and white (colours open to correction). There's a few benches in a kind of semi-circle and some classic, round, bushy trees. (You know the type, the ones you usually draw whenever trying to draw a tree.)
The trees have blue fairy-lights all over as well.

So, to quickly set the scene, lights, everywhere, it's dark, it's the riverside, there's not many people and it's warm.


He chooses that exact moment to pull me to one side and kiss me. Under the lights that are like stars.

Do you realise how sickeningly romantic this is? Yes, you must and what's more is that you're still reading this which means you're either just waiting for this is get funny or to a point (maybe you're reading this blog by mistake) OR you actually appreciated how romantic this is.

 

Gag.

Karma Bites

I'm going to be reincarnated into an ant in my next life.

My karma in this life is really becoming something that can't be recovered from.

I thought things were going so well. I've slowed down on drinking. Stopped fuelling the drugs trade. Stopped antagnoising jehover's witnesses....

Only one thing still doesn't seem to have become a deep issue for me...

Sleeping with other people's boyfriends.

I know. I'm a terrible person. Really. Hence the bad karma.

Now. If this was a friend's boyfriend. I could never do it. Wouldn't even think of it. Dream of it. Ponder the idea. I just want to make sure this is clearly recognised; I'm not disloyal.
In my twisted logic I just think that they should not make themselves available. Plus, if it's going to happen with me, it's just as likely to happen with anyone else.

I put myself in their position as well. And really. If I don't know the person and they stayed out of life. Well, they're just a face.




Yep. An ant. Definitely an ant. And I'll get stood on when I've just carried a small piece of dirt for a mile.

DEALBREAKER

You can’t get hard

Things were great…we like all the same things…you speak Spanish…you’re a socialist… I’m half in love with you because of your political ideology, and you’re tall, which is a huge plus. So I work my charm, and finally get you to invite me over. We have a couple drinks, I begin to get a little drunk, and next thing you know, we’re making out. I’m sort of pulling all my best moves and when I ask you if I should get the condom, you say yes. Okay well thanks for wasting my condom, you chode. As you’re trying to squeeze your playdoh (LOL JK playdoh is stiffer) in, I realize that isn’t going to work because my vagina isn’t build to take in globs of skin. I ask if everything is okay, and you say it’s because you’ve been drinking, uh….okay… so you insist on keeping the foreplay going and I play along because I haven’t had sex in over 5 months. All of the sudden, your little soft self decides to slap my butt…several times…umm, okay…. Maybe I would forgive this if you could have actually gotten me off. All this messing around, and your little downstairs friend still doesn’t want to give me the time of day. I’m pissed and want to go to sleep, but for some reason, you still have hope in your broken penis.


I wake up the next morning, and as I’m all dressed, you finally are ready. So I decide to give you another chance and waste my last condom. Things work out, and I get my mediocre fuck. As I lay down, I notice a guitar, and ask you what you like to play. You say, Guns ‘n Roses and Nirvana… yeah… I’m going to catch the next bus…





I’m offended that you still haven’t talked to me since, but then I remember that in my sexual frustration towards your malfunctioning dick that I called you a child molester for fucking a girl that is 10 years younger than you. Oops.





-Written by twogirlsonecup (Courtesy of http://dealbreaker.tumblr.com/)

Mess Of Words. Clash.

I'm not going to lie to you all. (All, I say that like there's more than one person reading.)

Anyway, I'm not going to lie. I am terrible at keeping on task/updating/doing anything productive.
I actually have two posts, half written, in my drafts, waiting to be finished off. Signed off with a dot if you will. (Yep, just made up an expression of my own.)


It was recently my birthday anyway. I can't say my perspective and outlook on life has dramatically improved, have to say.

I did leave my sunglasses down south though.

Yes. I did fly the nest to visit pastures new.


(Well, I certainly seem to be speaking like an elderly person.)

I have to say as well, I co-hosted a radio show last week. Very exciting right?! (No, still not famous.) (Our mums are our biggest fans.)

Anyway, I came out with these two cracking sentiments;

'Tallyhoe ol' chap!'

And

'Give it some welly!'

So yeah, beginning to think I'm absolutely ready for a life of cats already.....



In other news. I finally had sex! Not a huge deal, not like it was my first time....with that person.
I needed it. Let's just say that.

Sorry to be so crude but to be honest, the relationship I've had with my vibrator of late has been very turbulent and I think it's really happy that I've finally given it a break. I genuinely feel disliked by my own toys.



Anyway, there was less of a point to this post. Many things have been happening recently that I really need to construct into some good group of words.
Like Dreamy guy. I have mentionned him before. He's dreamy. He makes me swoon. I got to see him. But I will talk about this another day!!

Love And Other Things

Well, first of all, on a love-related note....

Sorry, did I say love? What a joke.

The one person I love doesn't have enough balls to be in a relationship. He's had his chance.

And the one person who I could fall in love with... well, I'm not sure for sure but I'm pretty confident that he's not into the idea either.

And I've cut both of them off. I'm not stupid, I know the way to find out where you stand. Don't contact them, be off the visor and see what happens.... (Doesn't mean I have to like to results.)


So, my relationship is with my vibrator. And it isn't even a great relationship.

I demand it after weeks of not giving him any care or attention (Yep, decided it's a male vibrator.) and then use and abuse him until his batteries have worn down.

This mainly equates to about ten times in a row until both him and me are shuddering and worn out.


I've also agreed once more to an attempt of someone to set me up. Now, if anyone has read my previous posts, you'll know that I have completely written off the idea of being set up, many a time.

Why now? I'm bad at saying no. Really. Bad.

I've also protested that this double-date affair is going to be a non-date. No mention of any kind of set-up or date or being single or relationship, etc, etc, etc.



Yep. I think I've fallen for it once again haven't I? Totally being conned aren't I? Great.

I Dream A Dream....

I've recently come to describing a certain person, in my head, as dreamy.
(May I clearly point out, I'm calling them dreamy in my head- The person is not in my head).

I see his face and I literally swoon. I don't even know how to describe the act of swooning... Perhaps as a mix of swooping and groaning?

But dreamy? What point in madness must a girl be at when she's calling a guy, American Style, 'Dreamy'?

Maybe it means that I've had a brain-transplant with Barbie? And don't get me wrong, I love Barbie. I have her as a friend on FB, she's lovely. But that's how she describes Ken.

Maybe it means he's the guy for me? Or maybe it's just lust. I don't think I've been in lust for a long time...

OR, maybe it's that, finally, after all this time, I've actually lost my marbles.


Yup, that seems more likely.

Mars? Venus? Maybe Just Earth?

Men are easy creatures to figure out. I think where people, women, go wrong is that they (women) over-complicate them (men).

I mean really, I think the only frustrating thing is that sometimes I know what a man's thinking before even he realises it. Then it becomes tricky.

In all though, I find 'I thought so' a better phrase than 'I told you so'.
No one likes this phrase. No one wants to be under the impression that someone else thinks they can run your life better than you. (Although, let's face it, as an outsider, things are so much easier!)

Yes, wouldn't things be easier if there was a part of you that could see it from the outside. Truly see it. Not any of this 'What would I do if someone else was in this situation'. No. Proper outside perspective.

But then again, I'm not so sure I like the thought of telling myself 'I thought so.' Ignoring someone else is one thing but yourself?

Perhaps that's really why men and women are thought to be parts of a whole. You need someone else to tell you 'I thought so!'


P.S. Dear readers. I'm sorry for my lack of inspiration. My single-girl self has been lost in a relationship. I thought I could keep up the pretence but unfortunately, like my cleavage, this is one thing I can't fake. I promise to do better if you give me another chance. Madison.

One Potato, Two Potato.... Potato's? I Was Talking About Men.....

I'm beginning to think that my love life is destined to be disastrous.

After holding out for the one man who makes me tingle, you know, the one you think might be the one of all ones, things take a dip...

Just as I'm becoming acclimatised to the idea of Mr Tingle being no more than an illusion, a mere mirage in the desert so-to-speak, well, of course! Suddenly everything becomes more complicated than trying to understand a family tree on Jeremy Kyle.

That's right, another man comes along....

And he... he makes me swoon... Yes, like a princess in a fairytale. Or, a more modern version; like a girl finding a gentleman who holds doors open for her and such. (Yes, this is my weak spot- someone with old fashioned manners) (Can I live in the 50's please?)

So, this guy, he's like Mr Sparkle. He is more than a shining star. He is beautiful, like the North Star in some kind of other-worldly, religious symbolism, angel way.

'What's the problem?!' I hear you say.  'You've got another man, a wonderful one, everything worked out!'

Well, let me tell you, I wouldn't be writing about all this if everything had 'worked out'.
No, because just as I start to think that, guess what happens?

Oh yes! Mr Tingle comes bounding straight back into my life with more charm and gentleman-like qualities than I've seen in years.

And quite simply, I have no idea what to do.

So, there's no nice end point to this entry because, well, who knows what's going to happen? (Please, if someone knows, tell me!)
As they say in American; 'Stay Tuned!'

Sex On The Third Date...

Unfortunately I have had little humour in the past while due to working extremely anti-social hours.
I do figure that I need to really update though.

So, to give you the scenario I present one of my friends.She committed the ultimate cardinal sin and slept with a co-worker at the work Christmas do.

Yes. Total cliche/typical.

(When she told me initially I almost fell over laughing.)
(It gets worse.)

She then tells me that she's been hiding behind towels and other such displays all day. Groan.


The next day she tells me they're going on a date.

Yep, her thoughts, just like mine are that; What the hell do you do on a date?!
We are English girls. There are no rules for us English.

We have the usual American ones; don't sleep with a guy on the first date, don't talk about ex's til the third date, don't eat something messy, don't talk too much about yourself, yadda yadda yadda.

But we don't really follow this.
Us English folk like to do things the opposite way. We like to be silly and stupid. If things are too formal and planned it becomes monotonous and dull.

Also how boring is it when you feel like you want to really have a connection with someone and it just becomes so forced?

It goes against every 'dating rule' but to sleep with a guy initally and then get to know them just seems like the best way round.
You find out you have chemistry, the chemistry leads to sex that leads to connection-like hormones being released and instantly all awkwardness is out the window. You don't have to worry about how to act because now you can be completely yourself.

This may sound completely wrong and devoid of any sense but if it doesn't feel right initially then it won't be right.

The point I'm trying to make is;

We shouldn't be acting or forcing anything and we should be trusting our instincts a lot more.

A Hard Man Is Good To Find (Part 2)

So basically. I've ran out of places to find men.

I tried to work out what bases I hadn't covered, let's see....

• Bars and clubs- No hope in hell here. No matter what anyone tells you, people in clubs are only after one thing; A night of fun. That's all. Even if he makes you breakfast, he's just being polite.

• Internet dating- Alledgedly this is actually a very successful way to meet someone but again, it's full of so many men wanting again, just a night of fun.
  Also, when you're desperate enough to go to the internet for men think how desperate a man must be to go on the internet for a woman. Doesn't seem so great now does it?

• Through friends- I'll be honest here, this is sometimes good, especially when you have the time to get to know the person before deciding if it's something you want to take further.
  HOWEVER! In my experience, having friends actively set me up seems to fail and flail. You think your friend knows you? Really? I bet she's just enjoying herself playing cupid.
  Also, what happens when you realise you don't want to take it further and then have to see them everytime you go out with your friend? Tres awkward....

• Work- I find this is to be one of the Golden places to find someone. Again though, this has major, major flaws to it.
  For one, you have to be accepting you may have to work with that person if things go wrong. Personally though, I think you have enough time to bide to decide if the person is worth this gamble.
  Secondly, in my case, I work in women's retail fashion. There are no men here! And if there are any in our shop, they're buying for their partners. Boo :(

• School- Who's never found a boyfriend from school? Unfortunately, unless you're at uni or under the age of 18 you're only equivelent to this would be an evening class.
  I've been to an evening class and I can tell you now. Don't bother.

So, to conclude; I can not think of anywhere else that I might be missing. Please enlighten me sweet world? Are we really to believe that we're to find our true love while stuck in the rain waiting for a taxi or that they're one day going to move in next door to us?
I think I have more hope of growing a pair of wings.

It's official, good men don't turn me on

I've fallen into a pattern recently with 'The Good Guys'.

Everytime I think that there's a possibility that I'm not going to get screwed over (not in the good way) there's a shift.
Sooner than I can say 'Karma Sutra' a mental chastity belt has landed right over the top of my Agent Provocateur's.

Before long I've placed so much meaning on it that even a Purity leader would be questionning my reasons.
I start thinking that I've just lost my sex drive and it's down to being part of the 'Prozac Nation'....

And then I end up answering the door to a Jehover's Witness not wearing any underwear and telling them I've just been having sex for the last 5 hours.

Progress? I think not.

How can you tell these days who's worth your sweet time?

These days my thoughts on whether a man is suitable for me are based on remedial things such as whether he's a cat or a dog person.
If a dog's behavior is anything to go by (which let's face it, dogs and their owners are usually like twins) then I'd rather pass on a long, wet tongue falling about in my mouth with drool hanging down my chin.
Or worse yet, being licked.
On my face.


Call me old-fashioned but I'm still impressed with a man who can take me places. Literally. Obviously I'd like him to take me to a higher realm of intense pleasure but other than that I'm still bowled over by a certain gentleman working towards his pilot's license.
Yes, he flies planes! I do realise that he doesn't actually have his own plane and he's in copious amounts of debt from this but still. He flies!!

If he can handle a device of that size and intricacy then he's already got one up on all the men who can't even handle a tin-opener.

Relationships? Who wants one of those?

What is wrong with me? There must be something built into my senses, do not fall for the good guy.

It's the worst clichee and completely outdated but I fall for the bad boy every time.


Part of me thinks that really I'm just too scared of meeting someone perfect. I have too many flaws and strange habbits that could easily lead someone to hit me over the head with one of my many spiked stillettos.


No one tells you when you have to grow up. For years I've thought that I've just been too scared to leave my childhood behind and bam! Guess what, I'm now in my twenties and still watch episodes of care bears to relax.
Does one usually have to give up such childhood pleasures in order to succeed in a relationship?




Can I still stay up til the early hours of the morning eating popcorn and ice-cream? Will I no longer be able to get away with eating sweets for breakfast? Would I be able to continue wearing as many colours in one outfit as possible?



These are just some of the questions I'm faced with and I don't think I'm ready to try and answer them.