I do wish people wouldn't talk to me whilst I'm trying to pee. I find it slightly off-putting, especially when it's my boss' boss. He's got really nasty, floppy, public schoolboy hair. Big cock tho, so it's all swings and round-abouts.
That wasn't what I was going to talk about. But actually it's probably a damn sight more interesting.
So, yeah, another weekend has disappeared down the pan. It was ok. Bit quiet, but I guess you need ones like that now and again. We had The Boyf's ex-boyf (that's a mouthful, and apparently he is too, but I try not to think about it) down for the weekend, with his current squeeze. They wanted to visit the Motor Show, and we wanted to take them out on the town for a night. Amazingly we managed to drag them to a bar on Saturday night and they actually appeared to be enjoying it. However I was a) driving, b) tired and c) too hot, and that made me a grumpy little shit towards the end of the evening. And then I had to sleep on the floor, wedged between the sofa and coffee table. The only good bit was getting on the sofa in the morning for a cuddle with The Boyf, only to find him feeling very randy and more than eager to pin me down. You can guess the rest.
Sunday night I was gagging to get out and have a drink, but The Boyf wasn't feeling well and vetoed the idea. I did have the option of going on my own, but it didn't seem very fair leaving The Poorly Boyf at home whilst I went out and enjoyed both myself and anyone else unfortunate enough to catch my eye. I'd have had a drink or two and then ended up getting in trouble i.e. I'd have snogged someone, or better (I mean, worse. Depends on your viewpoint). And anyway, apparently The Boyf wasn't feeling so poorly that he didn't want to shag me again later in the evening.
Not all of my postings will end with me getting shagged. Although I wouldn't be complaining.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Friday, July 21, 2006
Pants On The Outside
We're having a pretty good week, The Boyf and I. Well, he comes home from work stressed out every day, whilst I just come home bored out of my mind. What's worse? We laugh because he always comes home and tells me about all the things that have happened in the school, and then he says "How was your day?" to which I always reply simply "Dull". But is having alot going on and being stressed really worse than doing a job with no satisfaction where I can honestly feel my brain turning to mush? No honestly, I can. The inside of my head makes a squishy noise when I shake it these days. Probably.
Where was I? Oh yeah, apart from the whole stressed/bored thing our week's been good. When you've got a job that doesn't really interest you (hands up about 95% of the population) you have to fill up your free time with things that are fun. So, on Wednesday we hoofed it over to ExCel to have a wander round the car show (preview day so no crowds). I say "we" had a wander; I'm a bit of a car freak so ran around being excited about the freshly unveiled Honda Civic Type-R etc, whilst The Boyf followed diligently behind, trying not to look too bored. After that we went to see a-Ha in concert. And bloody fantastic they were to. I must admit that I wasn't expecting them to be very good. I see to recall seeing them on tv at Live8 and thinking they were bloody awful, so I was very pleasantly surprised.
Last night we went to see "Superman Returns" at the cinema, and again I was pleasantly surprised by it. This was the summer blockbuster I had no interest in, up until I heard they'd used some of the original score and had tried to give it the same feel as the Christopher Reeve films. It passed the one simple test I'd set it. When I walked out of the cinema in 1978 with Marie (my original fag-hag), having seen "Superman", both of us spent the walk home with our arms out pretending we could fly. "Superman Returns" made me feel the same way, although being all grown up I limited my running around with my arm out to just the short walk from cinema to car. Ok, so the plot's a bit wobbly (in fact, I don't remember it actually having one - all I saw was lots of CGI), but who cares; Superman can fly!
Wheeeeeee!
Where was I? Oh yeah, apart from the whole stressed/bored thing our week's been good. When you've got a job that doesn't really interest you (hands up about 95% of the population) you have to fill up your free time with things that are fun. So, on Wednesday we hoofed it over to ExCel to have a wander round the car show (preview day so no crowds). I say "we" had a wander; I'm a bit of a car freak so ran around being excited about the freshly unveiled Honda Civic Type-R etc, whilst The Boyf followed diligently behind, trying not to look too bored. After that we went to see a-Ha in concert. And bloody fantastic they were to. I must admit that I wasn't expecting them to be very good. I see to recall seeing them on tv at Live8 and thinking they were bloody awful, so I was very pleasantly surprised.
Last night we went to see "Superman Returns" at the cinema, and again I was pleasantly surprised by it. This was the summer blockbuster I had no interest in, up until I heard they'd used some of the original score and had tried to give it the same feel as the Christopher Reeve films. It passed the one simple test I'd set it. When I walked out of the cinema in 1978 with Marie (my original fag-hag), having seen "Superman", both of us spent the walk home with our arms out pretending we could fly. "Superman Returns" made me feel the same way, although being all grown up I limited my running around with my arm out to just the short walk from cinema to car. Ok, so the plot's a bit wobbly (in fact, I don't remember it actually having one - all I saw was lots of CGI), but who cares; Superman can fly!
Wheeeeeee!
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Wizard's Sleeve
Right, before I go any further perhaps I should warn anyone of a more prude-ish disposition to follow this link instead of reading any further...
Right, with that out of the way I'm free to tell you about my night of bumming. The Boyf and I went for a beer on Sunday evening. We'd been visiting family all weekend - his up in the Midlands on Saturday, mine down in Kent on Sunday - so we were desperate for a beer and a dance. I have to say that where we went was chock full of sexy guys. It seemed like every man I I have a crush on was in there. All of which was giving me the horn. Of course, The Boyf always has the horn, so at about 2.30 in the morning (so much for the early night), we finally dragged some American guy back to our place for some bum fun. (I say "some American guy" cause I have no idea what his name is).
I've been moaning recently that I'm not being fucked enough, and I guess word had got round. Apparently as far as America. So I ended up spending the rest of the night either biting the pillow or closely studying my ankles. He was a big guy, and had plenty of weight to put behind his pounding. Yesterday at work I had to try to find lots of things to do where I didn't have to sit down. Which is just as well, cause if I did I'd probably have fallen asleep. Serves me right for moaning.
Which has all made me think about why we do these things. I mean, was it all worth having to put up with an annoying American? He was good at The Bumming, but I got precious little out of it other than an arse that felt like a ripped-out fireplace. Anyway, I didn't get the feeling that he knew how to do anything other than put his dick in a hole. Sorry, replace the word "put" with "slam". And for that I had to endure a 'don't do this, don't do that' attitude. It wasn't like I was trying to bake a cake or paint his nails, I was just trying out different positions and stuff. Blimey, Americans can be whiney.
Hmmm, is this the kind of thing I should be writing about? Shouldn't I up the intelligence level and be awfully witty?
Right, with that out of the way I'm free to tell you about my night of bumming. The Boyf and I went for a beer on Sunday evening. We'd been visiting family all weekend - his up in the Midlands on Saturday, mine down in Kent on Sunday - so we were desperate for a beer and a dance. I have to say that where we went was chock full of sexy guys. It seemed like every man I I have a crush on was in there. All of which was giving me the horn. Of course, The Boyf always has the horn, so at about 2.30 in the morning (so much for the early night), we finally dragged some American guy back to our place for some bum fun. (I say "some American guy" cause I have no idea what his name is).
I've been moaning recently that I'm not being fucked enough, and I guess word had got round. Apparently as far as America. So I ended up spending the rest of the night either biting the pillow or closely studying my ankles. He was a big guy, and had plenty of weight to put behind his pounding. Yesterday at work I had to try to find lots of things to do where I didn't have to sit down. Which is just as well, cause if I did I'd probably have fallen asleep. Serves me right for moaning.
Which has all made me think about why we do these things. I mean, was it all worth having to put up with an annoying American? He was good at The Bumming, but I got precious little out of it other than an arse that felt like a ripped-out fireplace. Anyway, I didn't get the feeling that he knew how to do anything other than put his dick in a hole. Sorry, replace the word "put" with "slam". And for that I had to endure a 'don't do this, don't do that' attitude. It wasn't like I was trying to bake a cake or paint his nails, I was just trying out different positions and stuff. Blimey, Americans can be whiney.
Hmmm, is this the kind of thing I should be writing about? Shouldn't I up the intelligence level and be awfully witty?
Thursday, July 13, 2006
(Body) Hair Is Good!
There was a letter in the Metro today in which a woman moaned about being surrounded by men wearing sleeveless shirts on the Tube and displaying underarm hair. She thought it was disgusting and "not manly" and she thought that men should shave their armpits. Armpit hair is not fucking manly??? What fucking planet does she come from? We will not shave our bloody armpits. A nice bit of underarm hair is more than welcome on any carriage I'm travelling in.
My advice to her; get cabs!
My advice to her; get cabs!
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Sweat Gets In My Eyes
So, what's up today then? Well, it's a nice day. Apparently. I can see it from my 8th floor office window. The outside world is out there, apparently able to perform perfectly without me being a part of it. Fickle fucking thing, that outside world.
I have to confess that I hate summer. Well, it does have it's advantages. Men with less clothes on being the main one. But I'm just not good in the hot weather. The shortest of short walks makes me sweat, coupled with having to commute on the packed Tube, makes my life hell this time of year. The Boyf doesn't sweat. At all. Fucking jammy sod. Not only can he wear nice clothes without sweat patches appearing, but he also robs me of the joy of sniffing his sweaty underwear. My ex worked in a garage and would come home covered in oil and sweat during the summer. Nothing quite like it. Well, actually there is; the road worker I had an affair with one summer, with his rough hands, and deeply tanned skin glistening with sweat, stinking of tarmac. Ah, those were the days before I went from a monogamous relationship (which meant I had affairs without him knowing), to the open relationship I have now (where any affair I have HAS to involve The Boyf).
Why is it that I have less sex now I'm allowed to boff whoever I want? I mean, The Boyf actually gets off on watching me having sex with other guys. So naturally I don't want to anymore.
I have to confess that I hate summer. Well, it does have it's advantages. Men with less clothes on being the main one. But I'm just not good in the hot weather. The shortest of short walks makes me sweat, coupled with having to commute on the packed Tube, makes my life hell this time of year. The Boyf doesn't sweat. At all. Fucking jammy sod. Not only can he wear nice clothes without sweat patches appearing, but he also robs me of the joy of sniffing his sweaty underwear. My ex worked in a garage and would come home covered in oil and sweat during the summer. Nothing quite like it. Well, actually there is; the road worker I had an affair with one summer, with his rough hands, and deeply tanned skin glistening with sweat, stinking of tarmac. Ah, those were the days before I went from a monogamous relationship (which meant I had affairs without him knowing), to the open relationship I have now (where any affair I have HAS to involve The Boyf).
Why is it that I have less sex now I'm allowed to boff whoever I want? I mean, The Boyf actually gets off on watching me having sex with other guys. So naturally I don't want to anymore.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Somewhere To Start
So, here's my blog. Or at least, here's the start of my blog. Whether this ends up being the end of my blog remains to be seen I guess, but knowing me I'll find plenty to waffle on about, even if none of it turns out to be very exciting.
You know, the whole blog thing was passing me by. I'd read one or two of my friends', and then two people I chat to online said that I should start one. I think it was a way of them getting me to stop waffling at them all day. It won't work of course. I shall still pester them, but now I have this to fill up even more of the time I should be spending working. What on Earth did people do to fill up their time at work before the internet came along?
So, I'm gonna cut this short. It's simply a way for me to start. In fact, it's simply a very crap way for me to start. Must try harder...
You know, the whole blog thing was passing me by. I'd read one or two of my friends', and then two people I chat to online said that I should start one. I think it was a way of them getting me to stop waffling at them all day. It won't work of course. I shall still pester them, but now I have this to fill up even more of the time I should be spending working. What on Earth did people do to fill up their time at work before the internet came along?
So, I'm gonna cut this short. It's simply a way for me to start. In fact, it's simply a very crap way for me to start. Must try harder...
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