Monday, January 28, 2008

Birthday Celebrations

A year older, a year wiser. If only there were an extra inch, or an extra mile of potential suitors. Alas, we've got to have some patience.

For my posh birthday meal we went here

And then, for posh drinks we went here

All in all it was a case of good company (all slags minus Common Julie and The Dame were present), as were all of my other slutty troopers/cultural boffins. And the food....the food! Lovely (Even though they did have Mango Chutney, and you know what i think about Mango Chutney).

Anyhow, woke up the following morning sandwiched between Ophelia and Aliena on my king sized bed. It's not often this happens. Both ladies were wearing my clothes and sleeping in my bed. And both of them had the audacity to ask me not to touch them. It was rather a predicament then, waking early in the morning with an erection and absolutely no side I could turn for fear of causing mass destruction. Fear not, I controlled it and before long it had subsided. And, until now, nothing was mentioned.

A big thank you to all of you who attended the par-tay.

p.s Desdemona bought me a tub of cock rub, a stress willy and a copy of Belle de jour's DVD. The girl certainly knows how to please a man.

Friday, January 25, 2008

XXX

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Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Ghetto

Me and the Notorious BIG - Nasty Girl.

'I go, on and on and on and
Don't take 'em to the crib unless they bonin
Easy, call 'em on the phone and
Platinum Chanel cologne and (oooh-WEE)
I stay, dressed, to impress
Spark these bitches interest
Sex is all I expect'


Whilst it's true that I don't usually take people back to mine, there's almost certainly a greater possibility of them making it back to the Tainted Towers if talk of Chaucer is on the cards rather than sex. Whilst my crib may be nice and big, it's just not the place I want to bring numerous lovers (perhaps due to my being over protective about my bedding). For this reason, I go to saunas, where wipeable mattresses are already laid out for me. Yes, I dress to impress. Yes, i like to 'spark these bitches interest'. No, I don't use Platinum Chanel Cologne.


'If they watch TV in the Lex, they know
They know, quarter past fo'
Left the club tipsy, say no mo'
Except how I'm gettin home, tomorrow
Caesar drop you off when he see his P.O. (heyyy)
Back of my mind I hope she swallow
Man she spilled a drink on my cream Wallows'


First and foremost, watching the tele in a Lexus is something I have yet to accomplish. And, Nissan Micras just aren't big enough to accommodate a plasma screen. Although, it has to be said, many of my sexual fantasises do involve cars, gear sticks and handbrakes. At four in the morning, a little tipsy, one can really feel very horny. That, and a little cautious - where can I take them that's warm and without leaves and twigs coming in the way? How the frig am I to get up and go to work tomorrow morning for my ten o clock? Yes, I know, for such a whore, I'm such a prude. So sue me. Although it isn't always at the back of my mind whether the other person is going to swallow, it's always something that turns me on. At least, the willingness to do it turns me on. And no, I don't have a single wallow in my car.

'Reach the gate, hungry just ate
Riffin, she got to be to work by eight
This must mean she ain't tryin to wait
Conversate, sex on the first date
I state, "You know what you do to me"
She starts off, "But I don't usually" (let's go)
Then I, whipped it out, rubber no doubt
Step out, show me what you all about'


Well, we all know how I'm partial to a slice of dodgy pizza after a night out on the lash. Uh huh. And yes, working in the morning does mean that people get down to business quicker than you can say, well...cum. 'You know what you do to me' - not a line I'd use, but nevertheless I know what the man's saying. That said, he could easy say nothing and still get whatever he wants. That, my friends, is why he's notorious. Let me also say, people who, once outside your door, try and redeem themselves by saying that they don't usually do this, can kiss my arse (in the most non-literal sense). And condoms are a must.

'Fingers in your mouth, open up your blouse
Pull your G-string down South (aoowww)
Threw that back out, in the parking lot
By a Cherokee and a green drop-top
And I don't stop, until I squirt
Jeans, skirt, butt-naked - it all work'


And as for the sex, do whatever you will. Fill every orifice, enter each hole and have the best sex you've ever had. Mind you, it's not imperative that I always cum. Sometimes that's unimportant. And if the man isn't tight enough, then I'm more looking forward to going, let's just say that.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

(Belated) Chronicles of The Dame

Note to readers: This entry has been written by a slag other than myself.

I turned a woman down the other day. We had seen a lot of one another and she was offering me it all, love, warmth, sex and a relationship. What did I do? Turn it down.

"I don't want you to be alone forever" said Mummy Dame "it terrifies me".

All my friends are well on their way to pairing off. Life partners? Who knows, but they are happy and the (majority) of them aren't interested in ditching their friends in favour of a toad in the hole. My mother is fully aware of this situation and chose to say the above with a quizzical look on her brow over a cheese toastie and a bowl of soup of all things. I find something has shifted between me and my mother, I can talk to her a little more than I used to be able too. Not a complete shift you understand but its a start.

My reply (although not verbatim) was something along the lines of: I am not choosing to stay single forever mum, its not something I desire but equally I don't see why I should settle for something that is not quite right when I believe that something magical is out there. I mean, I have been trying, I just always seem to pick wrong uns... I followed this up (bravely in my opinion) with: And I know its out there because I've experienced it.

Because of course I have, with The Doctor. I loved her, in fact nearly a year on and I still love her (much to Tainted's disgust), a fact I realised upon seeing her at the hospital just before Christmas. And more to Tainted's disgust I don't think I'll ever lose hope of her contacting me again asking if we could try again, I believe I'd do it because despite her being happy with someone else, never before have I known someone to get to me as she has Does that mean I'm stupid? Probably. Does the heart know when someone is your One? I think so. Is it the right thing to settle for just anyone if you can't find what you are looking for? Absolutely not. And, more importantly, are we wrong for taking the gamble in life and holding out for that something special (which we know exists), at the risk of never finding it and staying single forever? Yes, because at least we can say we have tried.

My mother seemed happy with the explanation given. For the time being anyway.

Yours,

-The Dame-

Monday, January 14, 2008

Charlie Wilson's War

Belle de Bengal is my ticket to the world of celebrity. Let this be known.

So it came as little surprise (though with very much excitement), that she informed me that we had tickets for a screening of Charlie Wilson's War.

She hadn't a clue that it was the premiere, or that Tom Hanks and Julia Roberts were due to make an appearance. Fine, because I did.

For purposes of clarity, the thing we did once we'd met is something neither of us are proud of.

We ate a Burger King meal(!) and attempted to make our way to the bit where they let ticket holders in.

Little did I know that, as they accepted us, we'd have to walk the red carpet ourselves.

The part which pains me the most is however, the fact that I walked a red carpet which had previously been graced by Miss Robert's presence, with an empty burger king wrapper.

For a moment I was speechless before the courage entered me to ask if there was a bin anywhere. The paparazzi gave me a look of puzzle which may, on a bad day, be confused for one of disgust. Sigh. If I'd have been them, I'd have snapped the commoner and sold the picture to the Herald Tribune.

Yes, the cinema was lovely, yes, the seats were clean, yes there was a bottle of water for everybody AND a bar of, OMG, Organic Chocolate on our seat arms.

And the film was great. Funny in the right places and a great depiction of a man of whom I knew very little. Tom and Julie did well, playing their parts with verve and interest.

If it wasn't for the Burger King Fiasco, it may have been perfect.

Lunch

We'd barely ordered our Chicken Katsu Curry when she started:

'Tainted, Tainted, Tainted! I've been dreaming about that man with the big dick. I just keep thinking about him, and how he filled me up.'

'Well why don't you go and fuck him then?' I asked, knowing full well that my friend was currently seeing another boy.

'The sex with the Boy isn't bad, she continued, but a big dick just fills you up.'

At this point, I'm sure I could see her salivating, and her eyes big and open imagining his big black joint right there in front of her.

Later on, when asked what it was about me that made her want to tell me that, she concluded that it must be because I'm somebody who would never judge her. All of her other friends, I'm led to believe, would spit and call her a slag.

Now, I'm sure this wouldn't be the case. Other people, it's my experience, are always far more open minded that people give them full credit for. Friends especially aren't there to judge you. They are there to accept you for who you are - otherwise we'd never be friends with anybody would we?

Anyhow, the Boy, at the time of this lunch, had another girlfriend abroad.

'Fuck him and FUCK him', I told her.

Monday, January 07, 2008

The Land of Lesbo

Two minutes after I'd seen her and as we made our way up the escalators at St Pauls tube station, The Dame asked me if I'd 'been drinking'.

I'd come straight from work and there was nothing alcoholic within a two mile radius of me that whole day, or even the day before. And here she was, telling me I 'smelt like I'd had a couple'.

No I hadn't.

So, an hour later and we were back at the Maison de Tainted where I cooked Her Majesty a supper of hand battered (that's correct) Fish and Chips. And this was followed by Cheesecake (Tesco bought).

And then we got dressed; The Dame distraught at having forgotten her hair gel but savvy enough to include her hair straighteners in her travel rucksack. I swear she's becoming more of a woman day by day.

And finally we embarked on our gay parade, in the rain and the cold. Because she was 'up for it'.

The first stop of the evening was Rush Bar in Soho. The second most well known Lesbian joint (Candy Bar ranks a little higher), its a first floor and basement bar and disco area.

To be fair, there wasn't really a butch lesbian in sight.

'I'm the most butch one here', declared The Dame, corona in hand, as we sat side my side on soft leather padding, oogling at the other gay women that were there.

'Look at that stunning girl over there' she continued, ' you can't tell me she's a lesbian'.

'Well, this is quite openly a gay bar isn't it, so why would she be straight?'.

'You can just tell' she concluded, a marked tone of disappointment seeping out with the words.

This is something that riles me about The Dame. She seems to think that only ugly women are gay. The pretty ones all have to be straight. But why? Just as there are gay men who look incredible, there are gay women who look equally incredible. What i fear The Dame suffers from is a devastating lack of self esteem.

'Let's dance', I said, barely unable to control my hips and shoulders any longer, but again she refused and said 'not yet!'.

And the one girl she did like, she hadn't the courage to talk with.

'If I see that girl again tonight, I'll consider it my fate and ask her out'.

What bollocks, I thought.

Now, as we have seen, there are some people in this world who have never pulled, and, chances are, will never have to. Katerina and Cassandra are, however, limited edition. For the rest of us, it can prove a long slog up the many rungs of the dating ladder. For some of us, we have to try if ever we want the chance of finding somebody sexy and potentially dateable.

With this in mind, I firmly believe that there is nothing wrong in making the first move and that, more than this, failure is something that we must all experience and learn from. The guts it often takes to say that first word is an indicator of great courage. And to imagine, had The Dame plucked up a little courage, she may have herself a date this evening with, let's call her, that girl in green jumper.

Stop 2 - It was a toss up between Candy Bar and G.A.Y and we chose the latter.

It was shyte.

Talent - Nil
Music - Campest of Camp 80s and 90s (we didn't know! Honest)

Wake me up, before you go go! Well there was no danger of that. We were go go pretty early.

Wednesday, January 02, 2008

Resolutions

I have at least a couple every year, targets achieve performance yada yada...

1) To whole heartedly attend an orgy. Or should that be, as is more usually the case, find an orgy, apply for a place on the orgy, cross fingers for success of application and then attend.

2) Dedicate much more time to that which is important. Sex and writing. Write more of my novel and maintain this blog with a view to further increasing the readership. Writing about sex often involves having it, so I intend to. Place myself in the path of slags and try to become one.

3) Do things which are odd and quirky. Rock climbing is top of the list here.

4) Attempt to learn a musical instrument. The piano, more specifically.

5) Attempt to date somebody. Try and think, at times, outside of the realms of sex, for something, dare I say it, a little more satisfying.

6) Attend only saunas which I haven't visited previously. Try not to give into temptation merely because one place has a jacuzzi and another one doesn't.

7) Try my hardest to secure the loyalty and cock of a fuck buddy.

8) Attend more award winning restaurants and maintain, as far as possible, a rampant social life.

9) Purchase that cock-ring I've been on about for, what seems, all of eternity. I mean, really!

The New Year

Happy New Year!

I'm sure many of you reading this probably don't recall much of what happened on New Years Eve. Or should I say, what happened after midnight on New Years Day.

Yes, me too. I remember the most important parts however, and that's always most important, nuh?

It seems to me that South of the river is where all the trendy people are moving. A lot of my friends have moved into my own area over the past few months. This fills me with joy. Joy at the sheer number of dinners and cocktail-drinking sessions which are undoubtedly on the cards.

And for once, I didn't have to trek into Central London to have a good time. A ten minute bus ride and I was at Lady Capulet's flat, ready to claim the house party.

Miss Best Boobs was also present, looking fitter than ever. As was Aliena who spent the night at my flat.

Whilst it may surprise some of you to know this, I haven't really been to many house parties; in fact, this was my second. That said, the loss of my House party virginity was indeed a merry occasion.

Our contribution was a bottle of Vodka and two beers. Needless to say, this paled into insignificance once we saw the drinks table - enough booze to open an offy of our very own.

Having an unmanned bar can be a disaster. You never really know how much to pour, whether the drink you are pouring has been tampered with by the local druggy (a must have for every party) and a single shot can become a double in a matter of mili seconds. And once all the mixing is done, what often remains is a muddle of shivering and (often) giggling flesh on the (by now messy) floor.

And then there was the war of the DJs. Aliena insisting on Britney Spears whilst the others preferring something a little more Indy. Having said this, once the alcohol consumption described above had taken place, any music was good music. Any music could be danced to, and we did. To the point where everybody formed a drunken circle and pushed me into the centre. Now, you know how I hate being the centre of attention don't you?


At the important hour we went outside, party-poppers in one hand and a bottle of champagne (almost each) in the other.

And when it was time, there was hugging and singing and I'm sure somebody thought it hilarious and festive to shower me in Champagne thereby ruining my hair and my newly acquired shirt. Thankfully by this point I was beyond caring and well caught up the festive mood. I recall thinking there were far worse liquids to shower under.

And this is when it all starts - the flirting, the singing, the dancing, the drinking (yes, even more of it), the running around and kissing inappropriate people and the giggling. It strikes me that when drunk, an awful lot of people would laugh at just about anything.

In terms of romantic liaisons, New Years Eve belongs undoubtedly to Aliena who had a vast number of men wrapped around her finger. Some told her she was incredibly hot, others asked for a ciggy and casually placed their hand over her bum. That said, she didn't really reciprocate any of their flirtatious behaviour. Probably because they both had partners. And this is something Aliena would not, ordinarily, do.

This hang up over attached people is something Aliena needs to get over quickly. The idea of banging your way into the new year is sexy and liberating. Who cares that he might have a girlfriend. The chances are, the day after, you probably won't ever remember his face.

As much as I love the idea holding my own house party, my love of Beige carpets would always prevent me from doing so. Unless of course, I taped bin liners all over the floor. That might work