Casual Sex, Social Media & Manners

Here I am, a gal, in her (mid) thirties, still single. I had imagined that by this point in my life, I would have stumbled across my future other half - The yin to my yang, the sprinkles to my doughnut, the cream cheese to my bagel. I don't believe that being in a relationship is the be all and end all of one's purpose of existence on Earth. I just assumed that I'd have a partner in crime by now. And not for reproduction purposes either. I am pleased to announce that the old, biological clock in this old maid still hasn't started incessantly ticking as of yet. I suppose what I'm searching for is a companion. A part time lover and a full time friend. Are there any men out there searching for the same thing? Or, are all of the blokes in my appropriate side-kick age bracket still in relationships with their high school sweetheart / first wife / other generic significant other? Have their previous relationships ended so badly that they too are sworn off the opposite sex, like me? Whatis going on in this crazy,  mixed up world?

Most recently I introduced you to the Tattooed Man. A conquest eleven years in the making and this is where I'm headed with today's tale. To refresh your memory,  the Tattooed Man and I met way back in 2005. He was married and I had just started dating (I hate that phrase) fucking, I was fucking  The Orangutan. Sure we flirted, I mean I was a horny 23 year old and he had a sexy accent and a dick. What wasn't to be drawn to?  But nothing ever came of it... Until we fast forward eleven years into the future and we happen to bump into each other through work. We added each other to Facebook and have random chats here and there. We agree to meet up for a few drinks. I went to his place, drank some wine and we fucked like horny teenagers with the house to themselves. I had a great time. He had a great time. I left the next day and we continued to chat over the next few months. We tried syncing rosters so that we could arrange another time for a romp. This proved extremely hard, as we're both shift workers. The flirty banter continued as I patiently waited for my next chance.  

Which brings me to an incident that took place about a month or so ago. Our opposing footy teams were due to clash. I proposed that the person whose team lost the match would owe the other a BJ. He accepted the bet, and a few hours later, my team won. I received the following message "I will be licking you on Sat night." I checked my schedule was clear and booked him in. I even offered a consolation  BJ to which he responded "If you can get my throbbing cock out of your vag you're more than welcome".  Awww yes! Come to Mamma! The evening before the big event he requested a rain check, and because I'm not needy or clingy I told him that was cool. I wasn't cool, I was disappointed, but I had hope that we would reschedule in the coming weeks. I was wrong, oh so very wrong. See screen shots below for maximum WTF value (some details obscured to keep shit anonymous). 

What was going on? He knows that I'm keen to bump uglies and suck his dick, why on earth is he trying to palm me off to his buddy? A buddy I know next to nothing about,  other than a first name, occupation and phone number! He could be a serial killer for all I know! No thanks.  

Ten days later I did the dumbest thing a cool, casual chick like me could do. I drunk texted him to reschedule his bogus rain check!  He read my message and never replied. I was heartbroken. Well maybe not heartbroken, perhaps I was more disappointed in both he and myself. Him, because he has turned out to be just like all of the others preceding him, but more so me. I'm so disappointed with myself for letting my feelings get involved. When will I ever learn. Isn't it human nature to grow and develop our character, to learn from our past mistakes that hurt us so much? 

Which now brings me to the finale of this particular chapter of my uneventful sex life. The very next day after my massive faux pas, and every few days since, he has been posting photos and commentary of activities and outings and even an exotic holiday on Facebook, complete with tags of his new female companion. *face palm* It reeks of bad manners and insensitivity. Meanwhile, he had at least two opportunities to let me off the hook when I was throwing drunk self at him. That's not the worst bit. The worst part is even though there's fresh meat on the scene, he still remains active on the dating website we're both on. I wonder if she knows? Perhaps that will be another story down the road. For now, I'm left pondering, should I call the mysterious Mr M? He could very well be the key of turning my uneventful sex life into the rampant dream that I crave. He might even be the chocolate chip to my cookie...

Do you have a 'To Do' List?

Last night I had the opportunity to tick another name off my 'BoysTo Do' list. He's been on there for some time. Since 2005. 11 years. I never thought I'd cross his name off, but here I am,  and I have!

I met this fella at the same time that I met The Orangutan. You know,  he's the bloke I moved to the other side of the planet for and is also the same bloke that ripped my heart out and shat on it. The newest notch on my bed post is the Tattooed Man. Originally from Queens, New York City. And yep, he still has his accent. Sweet!

The three of us started working together and did our training together. The Tattooed Man was married back in '05, but this didn't stop us from having a big old flirt. We were employed on a casual basis so when the job finished up The Orangutan and I went off to England and I lost contact with the Tattooed Man.

We bumped into each other once or twice along the road, he had actually started working with a friend of mine and we reconnected at a party in around 2008, before once more going our separate ways, after a major flirting session of course.  In August last year he popped into my mind for some reason or another. I did a quick search on Facebook and sent out a friend request. He accepted,  I was stoked.

A few months ago, he popped up in an instant message on Facebook. We began chatting back and forth, it turns out that we are once again, both working for the same large organisation. All be it, in very different roles,  but they sometimes overlap as I travel for my job. Lo and behold, I ended up at his office!  We got to chatting and reminiscing about the good old days and before I knew it, it was time for me to leave. But before leaving we agreed that we needed to go out for some beers and a bite to eat, so that we could catch up properly. I planned on having a few drinks working my flirty mojo and drawing him into my lair.

We had planned to met up two weeks ago on the Saturday evening of his birthday weekend. It seemd that he had gone out with his buddies the night before and was out partying until 5am. Needless to say he was hung over so badly he couldn't get his arse off the couch. I was cut.

On Wednesday we began a serious flirt fest back and forth over text. We came to agree that I would go to his house for a few beers after he finished work at 11pm last night (Saturday ).  I spent the day pimping and preening myself. I moisturised and de-fuzzed, which is a big deal for me because I very rarely de-fuzz for anything or anyone, just ask my friends ! Just after 11pm, I sent him a message asking if he was ready to rumble, to which he replied 'Hell yeah!'. I put on my sexy red bra and slipped on myzip front dress, no knickers and off I went!

I was so nervous. My heart was thumping, it kind of felt like it was beating to an odd new rythm and my hands that are usually super warm were now cold and clamy. I managed pull myself together by the time I got to his front door. As I approached the open door I gave him a little shout to announce my arrival. He smoothly answered the door with a big grin as he said, 'Hey baby doll, come on in!'.

He offered me a drink, quickly adding that he only had manly drinks on hand - scotch, rum, vodka or gin. None of which I drink. He managed to rustle up a bottle of red wine from somewhere and filled a glass almost to the brim! We sat on the couch, he with a scotch on the rocks and I with my very large red wine. We chatted along for over an hour, the conversation easily flowed. Then all of a sudden, he took my wine from my hand and pounced!

We must have been kissing on the couch for a good 10 minutes before his hands wandered between my legs. He was like a kid on Christmas morning when he notice that I had not worn any underwear, he quickly rose to his feet and pulled me to his bedroom.

We both stripped off our clothes and he gave me the old American ho-down throw down onto his bed. It was rough,  hard, and furious. There was hair pulling, ass spanking and choking. I fucking loved every minute of it, and lapped it up like a kitty cat drinking milk from a saucer.

We shagged multiple times into the wee hours of the morning. Between rounds we lay down on the bed, held hands and just talked. It was bliss. Eventually we were both spent and slowly fell asleep.

I left 12 hours after I had arrived. I love rough sex. I love when the guy takes charge. I love being fucked hard. He was well worth an 11 year wait. And you know what, I can't wait to go back for more!

Eulogy for my Mobile Phone

Well friends, so it has come. The day that I must say goodbye to the handheld mobile telecommunication device that has served me for almost three years. To my HTC Desire 310, I dedicate this...



I still remember the day I went into Dick Smith’s, looking for a new, stylish phone to replace the clunky fucker I had been carting around, and that had died. All I wanted was something that would not get lost in my handbag and ring loud enough that I could hear it. You had seduced me with your custom ring tones, deep, metallic blue back cover, and multitude of apps available the Google Play Store.



We had our share of problems. I remember dropping you, face down on the tiles at Altona Gate mere minutes after taking ownership of you.

It wasn’t long before the Accuweather widget was dropped onto your home screen and your cute Tinkerbell case kept you safe. I still remember the new phone engulfed my nasal passage as I rushed to free you from your cardboard prison.



We had great times, you and I. You had next to zero storage space for apps. I remember you would power down for no reason. Your Apps would crash. After about a year, I thought I had been forgiven for dropping you multiple times and splashing water on you, but I know you never forgot.



Battle scars aside; you served me well, and seemed to enjoy playing little jokes on me. I would slam you against the coffee table sometimes when you shut off while I was commenting on a Facebook status. I’d go absolutely mental with rage. I know you were afraid when I threatened to pull you apart and set you on fire, but you knew I wouldn’t let go of you. I did throw you across the room many times, but I loved you just the same.

You always enjoyed ringing when I was very busy. Your Yakety Sax ring tone will always live in the memories of all of my friends as the most annoying ring tone - Ever.



Earlier this year, your components started wearing out and I knew our time together was almost up. Your camera lens was scratched and couldn’t snap photos very well. People called you such insensitive things, and those words hurt us both, but we carried on.
This morning at 6:30am, you couldn’t load the Facebook app. You just didn’t have enough oooomfff left in you to run my life anymore. I ran CCleaner app to try and unclog some memory or space or whatever it is that enables you to do the things I want you to do. I switched you off for a Reboot. You then got stuck on the start-up screen, and when I found you hours later in my handbag, you were overheating and hot to the touch.



I took off you back cover, removed your battery and micro SD card for future placement in a new phone. I went ahead and did a factory reset – Nothing. With tears in my eyes; I pushed your power button for what I knew was the last time. As your display went dark and fell silent, I recognized the end of an era. You are no longer with me.



You will rest peacefully in the drawer of my bedside table, the graveyard of all mobile phones past. Now I know, you will be substituted, but never replaced. RIP old friend.

 

Very single and more than ready to mingle!

Why is it so hard to find a root in Melbourne town?  I'm convinced that there are no spunky, single guys left on this planet. 

Where does a 30-something-year-old gal go in 2016 to find a bloke? I'm over the whole online thing - it's  so lame! Tinder is shit and full of creepy cunts. My office has nil suitable potential mates. I feel like I am stuck between a rock and a hard place.

According to popular belief, I'm currently in my sexual peak. I'm not entirely sure what the heck that means, because I've been a crazy-horny nympho for most of my adult life.

I've learned to release my sexual frustrations whilst flying solo. I should have bought shares in Duracell years ago, due to the amount of batteries I've gone through over the years! Although, recently I lashed out and shouted myself two new Lelo toys - top of the range, rechargeable and highly recommended; should you be in the market and a couple of new dildoes - moulded directly from the shafts of two of my favorite porn stars.

But let me tell you, there's a massive difference between getting yourself off with a vibrator or rubber dong and getting your box smashed by a real dick, attached to a sexy man.

I think it's the mental connection that I'm yearning for most. I don't believe that it's healthy to not have that skin on skin, primal connection with another human being that you only experience when you're fucking like a wild animal. 

What if I get too accustomed to my Lelos and silicone dicks? What if when I do eventually hook up with some random, he isn't able to satisfy me the way I could be satisfied in the past? I was the kind of girl that just needed a kiss on the neck, or a finger traced over my pussy to get a flood happening.

I need to stop piss farting around and get myself laid! My plan for this year, is to get laid as much as I did when I was in my 20's.

If you have any spare, handsome, single guys hanging around, let me know. I'd be happy to take him off your hands!

Watch this space.

A blow job a day, keeps a mistress at bay!

I finished work at 3pm on Friday afternoon.  I made plans with a friend from my old department to have our nails done and grab a bite to eat. As you may know, it's near on impossible to get your nails done and talk on the phone, so when I was mid buff and my phone rang, I let it go through to voice mail.

After my nails had dried I dug my hand into my bag to retrieve my phone. The missed call from earlier had been made from a private number, I assumed it was someone calling from home or work. I dialed my mail box to listen to the message. It was full of static  and I could barely hear what the voice on the other end was saying.

I replayed the message on loud speaker to decypher what was being said. From what I could pick up, it was some woman named Jody who was accusing me of sleeping with her boyfriend! She advised that I should stop sleeping with him or she'd kill me. She ended with, "Got that Ok? Thanks, bye!". So polite of her.

I laughed so hard I nearly pissed my pants! Who the fuck is this crazy bitch!? How did she get my number? And more importantly,  who the fuck is it that I have supposedly fucked? I must have sexsomnia, because I haven't had sex with anyone other than myself in over a year that I am aware of!

If anyone knows an crazy, angry bitch named Jody, who's other half  has been stepping out on her, please let her kmow that it's not me that fucked him, but maybe she should throw him the occasional BJ and maybe,  just maybe, he wouldn't need to cheat on her with someone like me!

I loved you best...

About 6 weeks ago, I lost my best mate of almost 19 years. I remember when we met, he fit into the palm of my hands. You were there by my side when I lost my Mum. You were always there. I miss you every day. R.I.P Billy x

So this is where we part, My Friend,
And you'll run on, around the bend.
Gone from sight, but not from mind,
new pleasures there you'll surely find.

I will go on; I'll find the strength,
Life measures quality, not its length.
One long embrace before you leave,
Share one last look, before I grieve.

There are others, that much is true,
But they be they, and they aren't you.
And I, fair, impartial, or so I thought,
Will remember well all you've taught.

Your place I'll hold, you will be missed,
The fur I stroked, the nose I kissed.
And as you journey to your final rest,
Take with you this...I loved you best.

The little things...

In less than one month I turn 32. My Mum died when I was 18 years old. I hardly think about her anymore, aside from those 'special' days - Birthdays, anniversaries, Christmas and such.

Tonight I took a huge tumble down the dangerous back step of our house. I was on my lying on my back on the cold hard concrete bawling my eyes out. I managed to get myself inside the house to clean up and assess the damage.

Still sobbing, I hobbled into the lounge room to put my feet up. The only thing I could think of whilst I was applying was iodine to my stinging wounds was an overwhelming need for a hug from my Mum and for her to pat down my hear and kiss me on top of my head to make me feel better. This made me sob harder and louder that my sobs turned into a wail. I snapped myself out of it and concentrated on tending to my grazes. 

I'm all good now, a few grazes here and there, it's mostly just a bruised ego. I still wouldn't mind a hug from Mumma Bear though.

Reasons why I have evolved from catching PT and own a 5.7 litre V8

1) I can chain smoke and listen to the radio in my car.
2) The Park & Ride facility is like the set of Wolf Creek in the morning - pitch black, in the middle of nowhere and scary as fuck.
3) I don't have to sit next to incontinent pensioners wearing itchy jumpers in my car.
4) I have consecutively held a valid driver's license since the year 2000 and do not need to be supervised whilst on the roads.
5) Parking is only $2.84 more expensive that catching the bus per day.
6) I drive in a straight route in my car. I have no need to stop every 50 meters and pick up randoms.
7) It takes me 17 minutes to commute home from work in the car, compared to almost an hour on the bus.
8) FUCK PUBLIC TRANSPORT!

Sex is like Pringles. Once you pop, you can't stop!

Urrgghhh, It's true! Once you pop, you can't stop! Once again I've opened up the flood gates. After a very long time - 7 months and 14 months prior to that - was the last time I had sexy times with a dude. That's a looooong time! And yes, you've probably guessed by now that I met up with Old Mate the other night and it was awesome! I had actually forgotten how good sex is. It was also a tad awkward. 

Walking up the stairs to the bedroom was the worst part. He made me walk up first - Probably so he could look at my bare arse up my dress. I had chosen to go commando on the night, as I didn't really see the point of wearing undies when they weren't going to be on for very long. Also, It made for a nice surprise for him when I bent over to put my bag on the floor and my short dress rode up over my arse. Anyway, back to the awkwardness. There were photos of him, the Mrs and the little fella hung on the landing wall. I closed my eyes and kept ascending the staircase. I got to the top of the stairs and stopped as I didn't know where to go! I sure as fuck didn't want to end up in a nursery! He finally joined me at the top and switched on the light and pointed into his bedroom. I stepped into the darkness and he flicked on the telly for some subtle light. I would have gone for a lamp, but he is a dude at the end of the day!

And sure enough, my no underwear trick did it's thing. I bent over to place my bag on the floor, my dress rode up and he ran his finger tip across my ass cheek and slid it into my pussy. Hello! Instant wetness! I span around like a ballerina and almost as if it were in the same movement I pulled my dress up and over my head. I dropped it to the floor and began to unbutton his shirt. Fuck buttons! So annoying, I gave up and made him do it while I took off his pants. He took a step back to take in the view of me standing in just a bra. I reached behind me and undid the hooks. I did the classic stripper move of pulling down my bra straps slowly, one by one and magically held my bra on by my nipples. I pulled his boxers down from his waist and let his dick spring free. It was like Christmas! It's funny over time how you can forget what dicks look like. I forgot how long it was and couldn't resist gently stroking it! He ripped my bra off  and threw me down on the bed. 

We did our thing and lay back for a while because my body was weak and exhausted from orgasming so many times - I think it was 7 at last count but I can't be sure! We had a little chat about how things could have been in a parallel universe. Where his baby boy and it's mother did not exist. Clearly I would never enter into anything more than a casual, sexual relationship with this guy in this universe. I mean fuck, let's face it! He had just cheated on the mother of his 5 month old son, as if I'd want anything more serious with  a man who I know is prone to straying! I've been there, done that and don't intend on going through that pain and heart ache again.

I'm getting off track! What I wanted to get across in this post was that sex is FUCKING awesome! Since popping my cherry again on Wednesday night all I can think about is cock! I still have that after sex vag soreness, it's not a bad hurt, but in fact a really good hurt. It's where you smile to yourself as your mind flicks back to visions of your re-virginated pussy being pounded by a very willing cock, that hasn't been inside a tight, wet pussy for well over a year! And then you get wet again and have to excuse yourself from your desk to go to the bathroom to mop up the flood that's now inside your undies.

Yes, once you pop you can't stop. I guess I'll be dreaming of The D again tonight, wondering when the next time I'll feel one fill up all of my holes.

Loose morals...

So, tonight, a blast from the past pops up on Skype. I don't think I've ever written about this one before, I'll just call him Old Mate. We met online and went out a few times. I learned that he was recently out of a long term relationship that basically become boring and samey and eventually fizzed out right around the time she moved inter sate for work. He was left behind in Melbourne with their Shar Pei. 

He was a nice guy. Very easy to get along with and talk to, our conversations was never dull. Things were going well for around six months until the ex moved back to Melbourne and they decided to salvage their past. I was cut for a minute and then got over it. It didn't stop him messaging me here and there wanting to hook up. I was strong said always said no.

After a while, contact stopped. I thought he finally got the message after I hadn't heard from him in over a year. Bingo, bongo! He popped up on Skype again. He and the Mrs were having a baby. He didn't seem to happy about it. He thought she got pregnant on purpose. I told him that that was an unfair thing to say - It takes two to tango after all. 

I spoke with him not long after the baby was born. It was a boy, I don't recall it's name. He was born early and had to stay in hospital for quite a while. Old Mate seemed genuinely worried about the little fella. It turns out that things between him and the Mrs were on the rocks still. She was spending a lot of time away from home with her parents in her home town in New South Wales.  After he told me this he also told me that he missed me. I told him that it was too late for anything more to happen between the two of us.

Fast forward about four months to tonight were he tried putting the moves on me again whilst the Mrs and the little fella were away. It's been a while since I've seen any action and I found myself actually being tempted to pop over for a 'drink'. He only lives around the corner. I could be in and out and tucked up in bed in just over an hour if I really wanted to. I had to cut the conversation short. I'm not that kind of girl anymore. I don't want dodgy sex karma to sneak up on me one day and kick me up the arse. I told him that I had to head off and get ready for bed. That was a lie. I had to run away from temptation.

I logged out and had a cool shower. I needed to chill the fuck out. Later on, I logged back into my lappy to find the following message: "Can you think about a catch up in the next couple of nights? Just think about it don't dismiss it . . I'm not a bad guy and you are clearly amazing xx". What am I supposed to say back to that? My head says no but my vaj says yes! What's a girl to do?

Good Luck Kel

Have you seen the movie Good Luck Chuck? Allegedly Chuck (Dane Cook) is cursed. Women sleep with him once, and the next man they meet will be their true love. I think I have the same curse. Sitting here, thinking of all of the guys from my dating past, most of them met and married the next girl after me. 

There was Mr X. But to be fair, he was seeing both of us at the same time. He is now married and has two kids. There was the Best Man at my mate's wedding. We banged on the wedding night in Queensland, had a few random hook ups back in Melbourne and the next thing I hear through the grapevine, he's engaged! He too married my understudy and they have since had a daughter. I stopped seeing The Traveler when he took off to Africa to do some volunteer work. He met and fell in love with a fellow volunteer and from what he tells me, "she's the one". I'm sure there are a few more, in fact I know there are but I think you get the idea.

So fellas, If you're looking to find true love or 'the one' all you have to do is fuck me and hey presto! You'll meet the girl of your dreams!

How you ruined me...

Just so that you know and don’t get a big head; I am over you. I have been for a long time. What I’m not over is the fact that you destroyed me and my ability to ever fully trust another man again. 

You were my very first serious relationship. 

I hate that you broke my heart the way that you did. I hate that you did it whilst I was so far from home. I was lucky that I had made such good friends and support group in England. You’re lucky I didn’t punch your fucking lights out.

I hate that you continued lying to my face, even after I had busted you cheating on me. I hate that the whore that you cheated on me with rubbed it in my face. I hate that you didn’t try to stop her. I hate that you went running off to her the night I busted you.

I love that your Mum and Dad took my side and thought of you as a monster.

I hate myself for accepting your pathetic apology and agreeing to get back together. I hate myself for saying yes when you proposed. I hate that you broke up with me in a text message from the other side of the world 5 months later after not hearing from you for nearly 3 weeks.

I hate that you got back to your life as normal, with not a care in the world. I hate that you are up to fiancé number three. I hate that you’re both coming to Australia. It’s not big enough for the three of us.

I hate the way you make me feel about guys. I wish I could get close to feeling about someone else the way I once felt about you. I wish I had never met you. 

I hate that I have trust issues. Not only do I not trust men, I don’t trust myself. I don’t trust myself to let go and to fall in love again. When I get close, I shut my feelings out. I never want to feel the way you made me feel. I am broken and you broke me.

 

My 'Love' results from an online personality test...

Love

Settling down doesn't have to be boring. Connecting with your true love match is just the start of a whole new adventure. So get ready to let your hair down!
As a Warm Heart, you’re very down-to-earth when it comes to love. Often it is the simplest pleasures that bring the greatest joy. For you, romance often evolves from a close friendship. You want a love that feels safe and secure and believe in building strong foundations based on trust and understanding. You are a deeply loyal person and you expect the same from your partner. A true relationship is about committing to share your life and leaning on each other in good times and bad. Quiet one-on-one time is important too. You like to dive in and get lost together in those magical feelings.

1. Keep the magic alive in a relationship by spending quality time doing something that you'll both enjoy.


2. Be bold. Don’t feel that there’s some perfect ideal that you need to live up to. You are an amazing individual. Celebrate that yourself and you’ll quickly find that you’re not the only one who thinks so.


3. Do something different. Rent roller skates and wobble around the park hanging out to one another for balance!

I'm ready! (I think.)

I've kissed my fair share of frogs and now I think I'm ready for my Prince.

After going a bit feral when my heart was ripped out, stomped on, set on fire and finally urinated on I think I'm ready to try another relationship. There! I've said it. I'm ready to open my heart again to another man.

And before you go off on one; no, my biological clock is not ticking yet and I don't want a shotgun wedding. I just want to find a nice guy to spend time with. A dude that uses his brain to stimulate mine. A dude that makes me laugh and that does not take life too seriously. Someone that is kind and and that will appreciate me for the little things that I do.

I'm over the whole Internet dating bullshit. It's loaded with freaks, geeks and all in between. I'm sick of being hit on by men with wives and families. Guys that are double my age. I am not interested and I don't have Daddy issues, so move along.

Now I just need to work out which pond to look in to find my future Prince...

Light Bulb Momnet!

It has finally dawned on me that you truly don't know what you've got until it's gone! It's only taken most of my adult life thus far to come to this conclusion. Better late than never I guess?

How many is too many?

 

Yesterday I watched a movie called 'What's your Number?'. It's about a chick in her thirties, living in Boston; who's having a mini mid-life crisis. Her younger sister is getting married before her, her dropkick boyfriend recently dumped her and she has just lost her job. On the shame train home from losing her job, she digs through a box of personal items she comes across a magazine with an article that states that the average number of sexual partners for American women is 10.5. The article also goes on to say that women who have had twenty or more sexy-time friends will have difficulty finding a husband. She quickly digs through her box and starts writing down her list. She comes to a final number - 19. 

She decides that the next person she sleeps with will be her future husband. She pretty much fucks that up the same day by sleeping with her ball scratching, finger sniffing ex boss. She cannot believe what she's done and so that she doesn't get over 20 cocks, she decides to revisit them all. She enlists the help of her man whore neighbour to track down the original 19 fellas and in the process starts falling for him. She refuses to sleep with him as she sees him as another time wasting douche. Long story short, they find all of her exes. None of which are right for her to be with as they are either dead, married/engaged or just plain old weird (puppet guy). She eventually gives into her feelings for the man whore neighbour and allegedly the live happily ever after.

It got me to thinking, how many cocks for one girl is too many? 5? 10? 15? 20? 40? 100? From what I can remember from similar what's your magic number conversations my posse of girls, it seems we average between the mid teens to late twenties. We are all just into our thirties, assume we all had our cherries popped at age 15. This means at this stage in our lives we have been rooting like rabbits for at least fifteen years. Assume that most girls start out with a teenage love. A boyfriend they are with until they turn say, twenty. There's 1 cock and 5 years. Once we turn 18 and discover booze and partying our number of sexual partners dramatically rises. I'd say that in your early twenties a chick could easily sleep with at least 10 guys. Drunken one-night stands were pretty common in my day. I doubt that I could even give an accurate number of how many people I've slept with. 

I was somewhat a good girl until my ex broke up with me. He was my number 12. I went a bit boy-crazy after him and at age 26 after thinking I was going to be planning a wedding and spending the rest of my life with this one fella, the picture in my head was shattered and I found myself single, living out of home with my promiscuous, gay best friend. It was at this time that I discovered online dating. Starting a new relationship was the last thing on my mind I just wanted to fuck my little heart out to get my mind off the wanker that broke it.

Online dating is like shooting fish in a barrel. I must have clocked up at least ten to fifteen cocks in about 6 months. I can't remember the exact number (or names). Between my housemate and I, the front door of our house was like a revolving door of a busy office building in the city. There were dudes coming and going at all times of the day and night. Ahh, the joys of shift work, giving you the flexibility for a cheeky midweek rendezvous here and there. Bliss!

It was always safe sex. I knew that banging some random nameless guy was not worth contracting an STD for. I've calmed down a lot since then. That was a wild 18 months. My promiscuity came to an abrupt end when the house mate and I had a fight and I moved back home with my family. There's not a faster way on earth to kill your sex life than to move back home with your family!

The long and short of it all, I don't know how many cocks I've had. I estimate it's somewhere in the region of 25 to maybe 35 but probably more. Too many? What do you think? What's your number?

Relationship Bench Warmer

So, The Gentle Giant has found a new lady friend. Again. And again, I've been ditched. I have come to realise that I am his relationship bench warmer. You know, someone he gets along with, can ask questions to occasionally fuck whilst there is nobody else around to do these things with. There have been at least three times that I can recall that I have been called up to play from the bench.

I'm sick of being treated like a door mat by this guy. He drops me like a hot potato every time a new skirt is on the scene. I'm over it. I am worth more than being some one's bench warmer when he's bored and has nobody else to play with.

He claims he misread our relationship and asked why I sat back and said nothing. I don't know why I sat back and did sweet fuck all. I can give spot on relationship advice to anyone that asks, but when it comes to myself, I guess I just lack the confidence in myself to practice what I preach. I think it comes down to the old adage, once bitten twice shy. I don't wear my heart on my sleeve. Sleeve hearts have a tendency to get knocked about.

I've come to realise after writing my last blog, that I was not in love with him. I was in love with his brain. I like clever dudes. They stimulate my head and keep me on my toes. I'm just going to have to find another clever boy with less of the head fucking stuff going on. I want a dude that wants to be with me for me, and not just until something more exciting comes along. I'm better than that!

So Mister, that's it. When your latest relationship turns to shit, don't come running to me for advice on healing your broken heart. You're a big boy, I'm sure you can cope on your own. There will be no more keeping this chick on the hook. I think once and for all I finally have you out of my system. Good day to you Sir!

Bring on my Birthday celebrations this weekend and perhaps a new fella to focus my energy on! Another year older and wiser me thinks.

What the Hell is Love Anyway?

I've been friends with a guy for just over three years now. Occasionally we fuck, we mostly chat and we hang out, drink beer and that's about it. We have both been hurt in past relationships, which I think makes us very wary of future relationships. We've both been lied to, I've been cheated on and I'm pretty sure it has given me trust issues. 

When we chat he asks me questions. Random questions. Last time he kicked off question time with "Are you looking/waiting for a partner to come along or, are you deliberately planning to be a spinster indefinitely?" As if anybody sets out in life to become a lonely old spinster! I told him that I'm not actively searching for a partner and I'm definitely not planning on turning into a spinster, but I am preparing myself for that option if that's what life has in store for me. I'd love to meet a nice guy that I can trust, develop a relationship with and maybe fall in love again. Afterall, that's what life is about isn't it?

He seemed to accept my response and moved onto his next question. "How is love measured?" How the fuck would I know?! The only person I have ever loved and has ever said they loved me ended up stomping on, setting on fire then pissing on what ever love we had. Love is not my strong suit. I don't think I know  or have experienced enough love to be able to comment on the subject.

I enquired as to why he was so interested in love that day. He told me that it wasn't that day and that it was an ongoing investigation. I asked him if he was seeking love and he replied that he was currently on a journey for knowledge about love for now. We discovered that love is a mixture of many different emotions, that involved positives and negatives which include loss and that having loved and lost, we've learnt to be a bit more cautious with the whole love thing.

We agreed that trust is a huge part of love and that before being able to fall into love you must trust one another, otherwise it's just lust. There is no way you can build a strong, loving relationship without trust, it's a keystone of sorts.

I found a quote online "Love is an untamed force. When we try to control it, it destroys us. When we try to imprison it, it enslaves us. When we try to understand it, it leaves us feeling lost and confused." It seems to fit what we had been discussing.

Since having my heart crushed I actively decided it would be emotionally easier (and safer) to never love again. I haven't thought about love since. I put it out of my mind and focused on healing my broken heart and pretty much having emotionless sex with dudes I know I'd never fall in love with.

It's now that I find myself wondering if I could fall in love with him. I trust him and value his opinions, he seems to value my opinions too. Maybe we are supposed to just friend zone each other. Oh who the fuck knows! My head hurts!

Inappropriate Day to Propose

I don't know why I'm cut but I am. I know I shouldn't be but I can't help it. Maybe it's because I believe I should be happier than him after the way things ended between us.

Six years ago today I discovered my now ex, then current English boyfriend had been cheating on me. I was 10,000 miles away from home. My best friends and family were a 24 hour plane ride away. I had never felt so heartbroken and alone all at the same time. Let me start back at the start so the point of this story clicks into place.

Initially we were friends whilst completing training and working at Melbourne Airport but a relationship soon blossomed. We were inseparable. We pretty much spent every minute of every day together until his 12 month working holiday visa was to expire. He wanted to be back home in England to celebrate his 30th Birthday. Our temporary contracts at the airport had wound up so we made the most of what little time we had left together. 

The day had come that we had to say goodbye. It was one of the hardest things I had ever done. He had packed his things the night before and I drove him to the airport in the morning where it had all begun. He checked in and we hung out at the plane station until it was time for him to wander off through those big, grey doors. My heart sank. My eyes welled up and I ran back to my car bawling. I couldn't breathe let alone drive. I sat and smoked a few cigarettes in a vain attempt to compose myself.

My mobile beeped alerting me to a received text message from him. From what I can remember he just wanted to let me know how much he appreciated me being a good friend and telling me how much of an awesome chick I was. It was the last three tiny words that floored me. I LOVE YOU. Nobody besides my family and friends had ever verbalised that sentence to me before. I immediately called him and told him that I loved him too. It was soon time for him to board the plane and then he was gone.

 When he got back to the UK we spoke on the phone each day. During in one of our marathon phone calls he suggested that I move to England for a year. I looked into visas the next day and saw that I was eligible for an Ancestry visa. I got a passport and visa and got my ass on the plane as fast as I could!

After being on opposite sides of the world for four months we were reunited at Heathrow. I was drunk/hung over, wearing pyjamas and hadn't showered in a day. I must have looked a right mess but he still met me with open arms and a big kiss.

We drove back to his family home in a beautiful little village in the English countryside where I met his Mum and Dad. They were so sweet, loving and open to me from the moment I stepped foot into their house. 

 I got a job at a local pub and met some really lovely, life-long friends. He was working long strange 24/7 rotating shift hours. About a year into my stay in England I discovered that he had a profile on a dating website. I was horrified. I confronted him about it but somehow he managed to make me believe that it was an old profile that he had on there and that he just had just forgotten about it and promised to delete it - which he did that night after work.

Things went back to normal between us and we carried on with our busy lives. A few months later, I noticed his behaviour changing. His shift times remained the same but he was coming home later from work. I was a tad suspicious but I gave him the benefit of the doubt until one morning after seeing him out the door to work I went back to our room and noticed some torn up pieces of paper on the floor next to the bin. I picked them up to throw them away when I noticed some interesting and heart breaking words on the scraps of paper.

After I taped it back together, the handwritten note read: "What we did was wrong. I have somebody who loves me. She deserves better. I got greedy, I wanted someone as beautiful and as intelligent as you in my life. The last thing you need now is me, even if that's what I want. I'm going to break up with The Opinionated Little Miss. I will be going to Oz with her for her B'day, I owe it to her. But when I come home it will be over." I immediately texted his lying, cheating ass and told him that I knew he had cheated on and that he needed to get home ASAP.

He managed to get out of his shift a few hours later. He was white as a ghost and very sheepish when he walked in the door. I told him what a piece of shit I thought he was and that it would at his expense to change my flight back to Oz booked for April to be changed to the next available. I didn't want to be anywhere near him and I most certainly did not want to have to share a bed with the cunt that cheated on me for the next two months.

This all happened on the 10th of February 2007. Six years ago today. Today he is in Paris with his latest girlfriend.  He proposed to her. She is now his third fiancée. I wonder if she knows what kind of a dishonest, cheating douchebag he really is? Good luck lady. You'll need it! Just remember Sweetie, I got three diamonds, you only got one ;)