My Somewhat Horrendous Valentine's Day

Fear not, Agent X, you don’t have to be married to be underwhelmed on Valentine’s.

Although in fairness to PVC, he wasn’t really to blame for the general horrendousness.

Now, I hate Valentine’s Day for the same reason I hate New Year’s Eve – because anything that hyped up is bound to be a disappointment. (There are other reasons why I hate VD, mostly to do with my utter disgust and contempt at capitalism’s attempt to sell ‘love’… or maybe I’m just bitter because no one ever paid for a singing telegram for me while I was in school and my disappointment at never getting the opportunity to hear ‘I’ll Make Love to You’ by Boys to Men screamed at me will now overshadow the rest of my romantic life…)

Anyway, I hate it. And flowers and all the crap make me cringe. A sentiment that PVC and I both share. Also any prospect of a hot date that evening was out of the question, as he had to be the demonstration partner for a beginners ceroc (a sort of jive-y ballroom dancing) class that night. The prospect of heckling him while he was up on the stage appealed to me, so I went along to the class.

Class was fun, and I got a good bit of heckling in. Afterwards there was some of social dancing, and then we had to decide whether we wanted to stay on for the intermediate class, or go home and eat cake. I was all for cake, but he insisted we stay, telling me that I was totally ready for intermediate (with my whole three lessons behind me). So we stayed.

Perhaps not surprisingly, I found the class kind of difficult. Which is a gentle way of saying I sucked. Oh how I sucked. (In fairness to me, I missed the beginning of the class because I had to go to the toilet, and my attention span was shot from the class that preceded it and another terrible day at work). But yeah, Lord of the Dance I was not. Even still, I couldn’t work out why PVC was acting really quite aggressive. He was being all “I said spin on THREE, not FOUR!” and I was all “dude chill out” until eventually he had to point out that his ex-girlfriend had joined the class with her new boyfriend and they had been dancing directly beside us for some time. Her new boyfriend was obviously at the same skill level as me, and she was doing a similar thing to PVC in that she was dragging the poor bugger all over the place.

I asked PVC if he wanted to go, but he was determined to stick the class out to the bitter end. So it then turned into this Strictly Ballroom-esk dance off, whereby we kept dancing into them and they kept dancing into us while the exes shot each other withering looks and I tried to check her out between demented spins. I thought it was funny, and I kept losing the plot and giggling, which only served to make PVC more annoyed at me.

An aside: PVC’s ex is freaking beautiful. You know that famous painting, with Venus emerging scantily clad from a clamshell? Well, like that. Long, flowing auburn hair, creamy skin, blue eyes, etc. I’ve seen photos of her, but she looks even better in real life. Although, by all accounts she’s a bit of a bitch, and while she’s got a nice rack, she has nothing on my ass. So, y’know. I wasn’t about to stick a diamante stiletto in her eye or anything, I was just kind of curious.

Finally admitting defeat, PVC and I sat down to watch the end of the class, while he gazed pensively in her direction. I asked him if he was going to say ‘hi’ which he decided he wasn’t, so we got up and skulked out before the final round of social dancing.

Now at this point, I’m expecting we’ll go to his place, eat cake and shag. But no, PVC has decided that the time was right for telling his parents that he’s planning to quit his ridiculously lucrative career in IT to become an impoverished photographer. This was not music to his highly-conservative parents’ ears. PVC proceeds to have a giant argument with his mum which lasts about two hours while I sit watching them awkwardly. I think a bit of blame might have ricoched in my direction, as the unwholesome artistic influence in his life, but I also might be paranoid. Anyway, not the most fun I’ve ever had, but in a perverse way kind of entertaining.

At the end of the night (into the early hours of Friday morning), we muster our last reserves of energy for cake consumption. Which unfortunately left zero energy for shagging. Bah.

Ah well. Shagged approximately five times this weekend, so I can’t really complain!

My Somewhat Horrendous NYE

Well, I've had a lot of underwhelming and emotionally draining New Year's - and last night was no exception. Explaining the context of the whole thing is going to be tricky, so I have decided to present in play format:

"Oh, What a (Crappy) Night"
Cast of Characters:

BillyLou
PVC
Ms Cheeky (friend of BL)
Ms Purple Cats (friend of BL)
Ms Gender Studies (friend of PVC)
Ms Gender Studies' Boyfriend (friend of PVC)
PVC's X (who is quite lovely, and hangs out with us sometimes even tho that's a bit weird)
PVC's X's X (the ex boyfriend of PVC's ex girlfriend)
Ms Random Slut Bag (Who No One Invited Anyway)
Weird Boyfriend of Random Slut Bag
Weird Ex Boyfriend of Random Slut Bag

Setting:
Glebe Park

Scene 1:
After spending a nice afternoon in park getting slowly drunker, everyone gets their glow sticks, light sabres and plastic bottles of vodka ready for countdown. When it gets to midnight, fireworks are watched, vodka is skulled and BillyLou is grabbed by PVC and snogged violently. BillyLou's friends and PVC's friends have merged nicely and everyone is getting along. Only Ms Purple Cats is upset, because her boyfriend disappeared at midnight to go and talk to this girl who he is "only friends" with, leaving Purple Cats alone and annoyed. This sets the general tone of upset-ness that will continue through the rest of the evening.

BillyLou's friends have a scheduled 'chillax' party to go to at Ms Cheeky's house in Glebe. PVC's friends are kicking on in park, so we must say goodbye to them before we leave. PVC is saying extended goodbye to Gender Studies' Boyfriend, while I chat awkwardly with the outrageously drunk Gender Studies.

Gender Studies: "Have a really, really good 2008. I mean, I really, really mean it. Have a really, really, really good new year." (Gender Studies is embracing BL intimately.)

BillyLou: "Um, thanks! You too."

Gender Studies: "No, I really mean it. I want you to have a wonderful 2008."

BL: "Um, cool! Thanks again!"

Gender Studies: "I'm so drunk. We should kiss."

PVC: (Noticing the clinch) "Yeah, you guys should totally kiss."

BL: "Um... isn't that your boyfri...." Gender Studies pounces upon BL and kisses her smack on the lips. BL feels very awkward. Gender Studies is not unattractive, but her boyfriend is standing right there, and doesn't look quite so enthused as PVC does. Finally, BL wriggles out of kiss, and makes lame awkward jokey chit chat.

BL: (to PVC) "Um, honey, isn't it time we were heading off?"

PVC: "Oh, no. There's no hurry." BL notices that all of PVC's friends are now staring at BL and Gender Studies.

Gender Studies: (advancing towards BL again) "Have a really, really great..."

BL: (to PVC) "Honey! I think we really should go now. It's getting late!"

PVC: (reluctantly) "Oh, I guess so." PVC finally bids goodbye to Gender Studies' somewhat sour-looking Boyfriend, and finally we are able to walk away. Last I saw of Gender Studies she was walking woozily towards another lone female in the group, arms outstretched.


Scene 2:
Everyone is on a beanbag or futon at Cheeky's house in Glebe. All the ingredients are there for good time, but as mentioned that vibe of tension still prevails. Does not help that these weird random guests have seemingly invited themselves. Random guests include Random Slut Bag and her entourage of weird boyfriends and ex boyfriends. Random Slut Bag is really annoying. She has colourful hair and hippy clothing, but is one of those people who is trying really hard to be alternative to disguise the fact she has no personality, other than annoying. She keeps diverting the conversation (loudly) back to herself, inflicting us with stories about her depression, her (numerous) suicide attempts, her alcoholism, her restrictive Catholic upbringing, her violent fits of rage and her nymphomania. She flounces around room and bats her overly glittery eyes at any one who is male. At one point she makes out with her ex-boyfriend, while her current boyfriend sat at the other end of the room and looked morose. She keeps trying to flirt with and install herself next to PVC, which everyone else is trying really hard to prevent.

At this point, Purple Cats gets into a shit with everyone and pretty much storms off. Just as Purple Cats is leaving, PVC's X's X walks into the room. PVC's X's X sees PVC's X and plonks himself opposite her, so her can make her uncomfortable all night. PVC is livid, as PVC strongly dislikes his X's X, and thinks he should leave immediately. PVC's X assures him that she is ok, and everyone in the room looks on as the awkwardness unfolds. Even Random Slut Bag is momentarily quiet.

Finally, PVC's X's X seems to get the hint that he is not welcome, and after what feels like hours he finally leaves. Everyone is starting to settle down, and there is still a glimmer of hope that good times could potentially be had.

Having drunk about 80 litres of water to compensate for the zillion drinks she has consumed, BillyLou decides to get up and venture downstairs to the toilet, leaving PVC unsupervised on futon.

You can probably see where this is going, but anyway...

When BillyLou returns she finds Random Slut Bag draped all over PVC. They are not kissing or anything, but Slut Bag gives BillyLou the most victorious look of spiteful glee (BillyLou has not been overly polite to Slut Bag during the night) that BillyLou wants to kick her several times in the head. BillyLou resists urge to make giant scene (she is pretty shocked, actually) so she decides to go outside into the fresh air.

BillyLou goes for walk. Cheeky follows after her, and is supportive while BillyLou has small tantrum about how much of a stupid whore Slut Bag is.

When BillyLou returns she finds PVC is looking for her. PVC is apologetic. Is it lovely, and despite Slut Bag's energetic attempts, relationship between PVC and BL comes out stronger. PVC cheers BL up by wearing knitted hat with pom poms and singing to her.

PVC drives his X home (I really quite like his X, so this is ok) and then PVC and BL crash at his place at about 4am.

The End.

Postscript: BL and PVC have beautiful sex several times on New Year's Day. Awesome.

*GRUFF*

** WARNING! MAJOR RANT, ADULT THEMES AND OFFENSIVE LANGUAGE AHEAD**

It's times like this you need minties, or perspective or some shit... please send all minties c/o IATEYOURBEES.

Prologue;
Apprently I've missed informing you of a new Bee in the picture, it didn't really warrant earlier mentioning but had a brief conversation with Canadian Bee-eater and we decided that during singledom one takes the oppertunity.

Chapter one; The Party
A few weeks before I went off to Melbourne I went up the Central Coast for my friends partners 30th. During which time I met Brother In Law Bee. Brother in Law Bee is brother to my mates partner. Right got it.
He was alright looking... good arms... good smell. Someone at the party got wind I fancied him and then we were prompted into a walk and conversation, during which time myself (who was TOTALLY SQUIFFY) and Brother in Law Bee pashed, had a grope and went back home, drank more with the boys - INSERT ME BEING CAN ON GIRL - and then passed out.
The following day involved very little, except sleeping and cuddling on bed.

Chapter two; The follow up
We didn't exchange numbers after the party, I knew he lived in the central coast - remember we've been here before? - so it was all a bit silly, but nice to giggle with my girlfriend about being sister in laws *chuckle*
So BILB (haha BILB is good) askes my mate for my number, and a swarth of text messages and phone calls which Telstra obviously by now recognises as me having a bit of crumpet again.
So pre Melbourne I trek up early to Central Coast to loaf about up there, see BILB and start holiday wind down.
My temporary tag of BLIBS MRS (haha morons) I got an invite to a house warming party after which I told BILB we couldn't ever have anything that friendly cuddles because I did not want things to be weird when I visited incase something went weird... sure I understand is the reply.

Chapter Three; the fuck up.
Mate rings me and askes, 'Did you sleep with BILB?' -- NO I did not, well apprently BILB has told some thing named Ryan we had.
Its now times like there where I start batting for the all men are lying bastards, it's encoded in the Y strain of DNA and they should be jettisoned into space.
Just after I've been so good and optimistic!

THIS REALLY PISSES ME OFF! Because I don't want to get all whingy to my friend because this is what I wanted to avoid in the fucking first place!
And I can't give him attitude like I want to because I want to seem all better than him and not petty but I want to suffocate him truth be told!
So now if I see him Im going to take the disappointed and wronged woman act, tell anyone who asks if we slept together to fuck off and mind thier own businss and remember not to shit where you go for long weekends either.

*sings* Blind date, ma-ma-mah Blind date!

WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE?

These people who decide to 'introduce' (read 'set up') you to thier brother/cousin/ex boyfriends friends half brother, whatever.

Sitting at work today, when I get 'click'... look up looking bewildered etc, and one of the reps says 'I need a photo of you, for my brother. I've told him about you, and he wants a picture!'
To which I reply, in an oh-so-intelligent manner 'Ahhh'
'He's 26, tall, good looking, plays, rugby, owns his own house...' all this crap is sounding really appealing until then it dawns on me, and is also related to a loud mouthed woman who sets people up with thier brothers etc - BAD!

But as Sister Bee of Agent X, he might be a good lay? Huh well I suppose but that's boardering on shitting where one eats I think, and if nothing else this little blog excerise has taught us that is to be avoided at all costs (refer fat IT bee.)

Speaking of beebloggers, Agent X where are you? We know that my shag has just boarded a slow boat to bloody China, and Agent Billy is as last post suggests is having more sex and orgasms than one can poke a stick at.
Surely you are having hot martial sex on patio, stairwell or similar?

He's leaving on a jet plane, and I packed his bags

In the name of convincing myself I am a cool and understanding top-shelf kind of chick, on friday I helped facilitate my Non-Boyfriend Boyfriend GK Bee contact the school in China he is leaving to work for.
This is tantamount to packing his bags and saying "Goodbye nice guy I like, see you in one year (by which time I probably wont have met anyone anyway!)"
He's set to be gone by next week. NEXT WEEK!! Which leaves me totally emotionally unequipped for his leaving - of course execpt for the tiny fact I knew he was going in the first place.
So where does this all leave me? Well aside from sad because he's gone, angry at myself because I knew he was going - I guess ALSO SINGLE?

GAHHHH

Damn

Well, I had the conversation I'd been avoiding with PVC.

Told him I had been planning to move to Melbourne, but would stay if he wanted me to stay. (Implication: he would quantify what we have as a relationship and things would become more serious - as much as I hate those words).

He said what I'd been dreading he'd say - that things would continue the same way if I chose to stay in Sydney. Which are not bad - but certainly not enough to relocate my 'dreams' for.

I realised later that I chose a bad time to bring this up as I was suffering PMT at the time. I started crying, arggghhhh, I couldn't believe how much of a girl I was being. (You won't commit to me?? Wahahahaha!!!!) He was nice to me, but god it was embarrassing.

Then there was awkwardness - should we keep seeing each other even though I'll be moving away in three months? We didn't really address this so much as have sex. Which was amazing. And yes I know that's really dysfunctional, but I'm comfortable with that.

At the end of it the consensus was yes, we should keep seeing each other, but now I don't know if I can do it.

But the sex...!

Aw, fuck.

Also I know my username has changed - I'm in the process of fiddling with my accounts.

Weird Relationship Limbo

(cat girl)


I think the title says it all. What do you do when for all intents and purposes you are in a relationship... but at the same time you have no idea where you stand with that person, where it's going, what sort of boundaries there are... I mean the reason I've let all this go for so long is because I don't exactly approve of over-labelling everything, but there does come a point where you just want to know if someone is your goddamn boyfriend or not!!

I brought up the concept of me moving to Melbourne with PVC Bee. It went something like:

Me: "Don't suppose you want to move to Melbourne with me?"
Him: "Um... probably not."
Me: "Oh, ok."

Yeah, great discussion. Really constructive and helpful. Pfft.

Not to sound like a whingey pants, cos I do so enjoy the time I spend with PVC, and the sex just gets better... but still I feel that nothing about it is certain, and I'm just so tired of feeling like there's no point in getting close to someone because everything inevitably ends.

I mean, the last time I saw him, he was recovering from the flu. So I made dinner and brought it round and then had to spoon feed him (he wasn't really that sick, just enjoying the attention) and then I stayed the night where we held hands in our sleep... was really beautiful... and then in the morning it's all "see ya".

I'm confused :(

I am dating a rules boy

Dear Central Coast Bee,

You are cute, and tall and smell nice. You
pay for things, and call me and appear to listen when I speak.
I am interested.

Perhaps it's because his parents and grandparents raised him to be gentlemanly with good netherlander values, or perhaps it's because I am a hornbag but I enquired with Central Coast Bee if he was going for a 'proper kiss' when he dropped me off from our second date (when we kissed on the cheek).
'A proper kiss, on the second date!?' he repeated incredulously! 'Don't you know the rules of courting?' Oh my god, has anyone seen seven brides for seven brothers??? HAHA you'd have to have seen it to know my joke!
I'm not going to obsess about this because it will drive me nuts!!

Sorry Alll!!!

Why hello everyone!!! I must admit I have been sadly absent from Bees since starting my new job. I don't get nearly enough fart-assing around time anymore!!!! AS such, I haven't checked for ages, and I am sorry.

Go Agent that has recently got nookie!!! Go you, hope he isn't a turd and has called you since. :)

RSVP agent, I fear that path is fraught with danger, and drop kicks. Although we did establish that Vomiting-Groomsman-Bee had an RSVP profile didn't we....can't all be terrible apples then can they?

O/S Bee, I hope you're getting lots of rumpy-pumpy action in nice hotels and fun new places@!!!

Hub-bee and I have been frightfully boring I think, nothing much to report other than wearing my smart balls all night at an event, and Hub-Bee loves bouncing into my hips repeatedly. LOL.

What's wrong with this picture?

(Not this picture. Nothing wrong with a scantily-clad cat girl.)

I think I've reached the bottom. Today I found myself trawling through the obituaries section of smh.com to try and determine whether a love interest of mine had died. When you find yourself doing this, perhaps it is time to stop and evaluate. One can't help but be reminded of that line from that song:

"Don't be no fool when
Love really don't love you."

This is D-Bee. (Myspace guy, the one with the drug history, the one who caused all that shit with my aunt and her somewhat doubtful choice in father of her child. If anyone is confused, don't worry. I think I'm mostly writing this to myself).

After everything happened with my aunt and uncle, D-Bee sent me an email apologising profusely and saying that he hoped I could forgive him. He said not to worry, he wouldn't be going anywhere. This meant everything to me - to know that even though things were shitty I could at least I could rely on D-Bee to talk to.

This was over two weeks ago.

Since then he hasn't been online at all and hasn't responded to my email that bluntly asked him to let me know "yes" or "no" if we were talking anymore.

I don't have his phone number. I don't know where he lives. I don't know his last name. And yet I spoke with this person about every third night for hours (online) since the beginning of the year. We told each other some big, personal things. I felt, in some strange disconnected way, that I knew him, or at least I knew I wanted to know him. The night that the crap happened with my uncle D-Bee was talking about the possibility of meeting - which was huge for him considering the drug past (and associated complications), etc.

And now he has disappeared off the face of the planet and there's nothing I can do but look through the obituaries. And this is, like, EVERY obituary as I don't have his last name.

Is it too much to ask for my prospective dates to be mentally sound, not addicted to something, in possession of a driver's lisence and ALIVE???

Fucking hell.

p.s. Agent Y please let us know how RSVP goes. (Hopefully well!) I've heard it can work but due to my freak-magnetism I've given up on the internet.

I'll let you know if D-Bee ever turns up again. Preferably not in a body bag.

Of all the gin joints

Space is big, really big and like other large empty spaces it collects a bit of rubbish, space junk from various Apollo missions and land fill jettisoned into space.
Like outer space, cyber space is infinitely huge. You can do everything online, buy clothes, shoes, the Hollywood sign, food, talk to people from the other side of the world and date people without bellowing over pub music. But it’s also when I discovered the cyber space dating junk!
Deciding to consider a sortie into internet dating wasn’t that hard, without having to join up I could go window shopping for potentials all while sitting in my pj’s!
Then I saw them. Not one skeleton in the cupboard but two!
And one of them StandUp Bee! The outrage! !!!
Looking at his ad, it looks like some disgruntled ex (not me) has hacked his account and rewritten his profile. That or, he IS incredibly screwed up and has the self esteem of a bison.
The second one is BestFriendsEx Bee. With whom I had a one night stand with his friend in his living room (not my finest hour clearly), and then last year (or maybe the year before??) had a fling with another of his mates RedHead Bee.
After some deliberation and then reconsideration I’ve posted the DropKick Bees photos which have been blurred to protect the not so innocent.

To Bee or not to Bee

I have a confession.

Bad Bee is Back.

Oh no!

But oh yes.

Don't worry have not shagged him yet. He invited me over for steak dinner so I brought my sister along who is like my chaperone/conscience/contraception. Steak was freaking amazing. Had forgotten how that Bee could cook.

It's like... I always manage to successfully fuck him off... but not quite. It doesn't help that I'm desperately in love with him. No lovin, I'm in the Sahara desert of no lovin, and there he is, my never ending fountain of lovin, but of course a mirage because he's still with his goddamn crack whore of a girlfriend.

That's all, thought I'd share.

Also can't afford to travel this year. Would love to, but am going back to student life. I think I had a good reason why but I can't think of it right now.

They made me write stuff here

Yes I understand about the irritations of perserverance, sometimes you wish you had those precious minutes of your life back again don't you!

BFPNYE05 - LMAO at the name. The classic 'funny because it's true'......heeeeee chuckle.

And now news of the more bee variety. Must vent - have shacked up with Bee of Dreams who has passed from the first honeymoon style phase (ie.... as much sex as I want) and now into a grey horrid netherworld of many years of marriage (ie.... save it for the weekend...wtf??!) which I take it is as much sex as he wants???? I'm lost.. I thought all guys ever thought about was sex? dammit. Maybe the truth is that that's all WE think about and we have simply projected upon the menfolk?!

Who am I kidding!? Still every now and again there is an anomaly!

Grumble. How to approach. The other problem is that I think I may have scared him off in the first instance with enthusiasm and could potentially be in one of those 'don't touch me because we'll have to have sex then and I don't want to' sort of paradoxes where its all or nothing. And I just ain't a nothing kind of gal. I'm ok if I'm starved - be it food or money or sex. BUT if it's there for the taking, anyone who has had a packet of chips or timtams at same time as being near me will know that if it's there, I want it (and will probably stuff myself too)! You get the idea. Hence my grumbling. Luckily for myself when its on, I have NO complaints. But then. You can starve on gourmet food if you only get a little bit once in a while. I need Quantity as WELL as Quality dammit! Well well well I shouldn't complain but I just want it all. Also it would be handy to not have to sneak about but logistcally it is necessary for the moment.

Apart from my complaints whee for Illicit Beeifaction. Oh yeah and the bastard is going away for the week. I guess that means it back to sleeping with Lefty and Righty for the week.

Last point of the post: Buying condoms IS embarrassing. Can't do anything about it, it just IS. *sigh*

Call me crazy

Firstly I commiserate with you Z, this plight you suffer is wide spread (haha spread, or not as the case may be)
Perhaps we can all scout candidates at our newly appointed Beeifaction??
Lets get this organized!

Now I gotta comment on my NYE action, a little late off the mark but I had to dedicate a bit of time for typing.
I went with a friend and her boyfriend, to a club in the city which was about three guys to one girl and consumed enough champagne and vodka to slow a rhino but to no effect (don’t you hate that!)
After dancing about for a while, I found someone suitable looking for NYE pash, we danced for a while, had afore mention snogging session we popped outside to get some air and a change of pashing scenery. After some unintelligible mumbling I worked out he was asking if I wanted to fuck him… there on bloody Hunter Street.
Call me crazy, perhaps all the Rob Zombie I’ve been listening to has softened my brain, but this isn’t my ideal locale, grimy city side street with someone who looked like a tall Eminem.

Well you get what you pay for I suppose lol.

I am Agent Z, Hear Me Whinge

I just read Agent V’s post from way back – only just noticed it. And dude, I hear you. Being single is supposed to be fun, naughty, promiscuous. But after 12 months of very irregular lovin, (in the last year I had approximately five halfway decent shags, and they were mostly with Bad Bee), I find myself going out of my freakin lovin-deprived little mind.

It’s just a freak show out there. An utter, utter freakshow. And the more cheesed off I become with the whole ‘dating’ thing, the hornier I get!

My year in Dating Wonderland (summary form):

* Broke up with the Hopeless Tortured Artist Bee (he was on anti-depressants which meant he never wanted to shag and when he did he couldn’t get it up)

* Had stupid affair with Bad Bee (we would see each other about once a month, have incredible sex and then he would pretend it didn’t happen for another month until he got drunk again…)

* Shagged a girl, which really meant I got her off and then she rolled over and went to sleep, and I’m not willing to repeat owing to the fact I’m not a lesbian

* Had a one night stand with some (albeit good looking) random after speed dating. We had sex twice, amount of orgasms I had= zero.

* Met Nice Bee, and we all know about Nice Bee. (Now that I have broken it off with him I have been accused of running away because he was sick, which really wasn’t true. I was running away because he couldn’t kiss and the sex was shite.)

* Pashed Fat IT Bee at office Christmas party. Went on date with Fat IT Bee, thought maybe it could work. Had abortive sexual experience with Fat IT Bee. Told Fat IT Bee just wanted to be friends and got abused by text messages and emails. Fat IT Bee quits his job and deletes me from his myspace. Mature.

I mean, MY GOD, people.

I think the only option left, is to fork out a bit of cash and buy myself a decent vibrator. Like one of those fancy rabbit ones.

A purple one.

Bees out.

Say What? + Meeting Men *gasp*

I think this little post of mine will have to be a little double edged (and perhaps a smidgen long winded.)

First:
Say What?

Are you potentially snogging slash shagging British Bee!!! I think I missed some vitally important and enlightening conversation, detailing British Bee came barreling down the international passenger terminal at Heathrow with a bunch of flowers and pralines declaring his undying passion for you that he only discovered when dating your spindly counterpart?

Next:
Meeting Men *gasp*

With the New Year poking its rainy head around the corner, my brain harkens to the thought of New Years Resolutions (NYR) of yore.
I don’t make NYR simply b because I am shit at keeping them. But this year I have some, goals, aspirations if you will.
One; moving into my healthy weight range for my BMI. Fuck, this means I have to lose a staggering 20 KILOS!! I didn’t think I was that fat!!
Two; leave my sad pitiful arse job, even if it is to become a coffee bean slinger or chirpy retail assistant!
Three; meet men. Meet men to date, meet men to drink coffee with, meet men to shag.
*YALP* of course I want to avoid the disgusting pub circuit, I just can’t stand it. HUFF.

Sorry Bees, just as a side note. After seeing the ad on Fug for a bit now, I decided to have a peep at that Pink Peta ad. OH DEAR GOD. After I caught sight of the maggot in the sheep, my tum had enough.
Now it truly is disgusting what some suppliers seem to be doing, but is a website like Fug who deplores all forms of polyester incarnations a fair medium for a Peta ad of its nature?

Details!

Talk about a tease! You post about your middle of the night sexy sexness and then go on a tangent about horrible warts - *shudder*. That poor girl. If that happened to me I'd kill myself.

I haven't been 100% truthful about the complete lack of action in my life. Last Friday I went to see Nice Bee, and once we got past the bad kissing things were all right. (I've given up trying to kiss him back. He just overrides my attempts to make the kissing good so now I just stand there with what must look like a distracted grimace on my face quite literally doing nothing while he kisses me... hot! Not.) I'm not sure how many details people want on the whole kinkiness business... so I'll assume not many... but anyway he combined the sex with the kininess to make it halfway decent sex. (As in, lasted approx five minutes - a four minute improvement, and I didn't have to ask him to have sex with me - he took the initiative this time. Thank Christ).

So, pro: Five minutes worth of kinky sex.

Con: His phone rang right at the crucial moment which was really distracting and annoying, and what's worse he was getting me off the next day and the same thing happened again right at the crucial moment.

Bah.

But, can't complain.

(But is this blog really about political correctness? Or is it our blog and I can whinge if I want to?)

Well, maybe I'll unleash a tirade of whinging next post. Right now I'd better get back to work.

No Lovin'

I think it's cos you're the only one getting laid!

It's looking like the only way to get decent, reliable sex in this town is to get hitched. Dammit!

Sigh. I half-heartedly tried to suggest to Nice Bee last week that maybe he'd be better off pursuing a different Lady Bee (other than me). To which he started up with "Are you breaking up with me?" To which I was thinking: "Are we going out??"

No lovin' sucks!

Girls girls girls

What's going on! I go away for two and a half weeks and nothing!! I expected to come back and read many posts on varying topics! Instead I get nothing! Pah.
where have you all gone....????

Hell No, Motherfuckers

Agent Y! You are damaging my sensitive eyes with your rampant profantiy. Don't you know there are LADIES in here? (Best if you think Little Brittain - 'Laaaadies'!)

I'm just trying to keep an element of class here in IAYB. Cock heads.