O is for One Night Stands

I am not ashamed to say that I have had one nights stands.

None of them are ever planned, they’re spontaneous, an urge, fun. Just a moment where you don’t think about anything else, just yourselves.

The first one was with a friend of a friend, he was after me for ages, made me feel wanted, and when I was most upset, he took advantage of that.

When alcohol is involved, it’s a different matter. Everyone has a different reason for one night stands. For me, it’s the thrill of knowing that I can just smile at a hot guy in a club and know that I’ll be going home with him. It was confidence building, that moment of being wanted and being taken. It wasn’t even just taking what was offered like being picked last for a team, it was who I wanted.

Looking back, I don’t know how I did it. I’m not saying they’re all great, you have to be careful. One guy I went back with was doing coke. I declined.
But like coke, one night stands are addictive. The adrenaline, thrill.

My family of course, don’t approve. My mum has never had a one night stand, so I don’t think she’s in a position to judge, her comments ‘just don’t go sleeping with half of London to find ‘the one”

You might think I’m easy, but it’s quite empowering. If the men can do it, why can’t I?

H is for Horny

Apr9

G is for Girth

H is for Horny

It’s a bank holiday.. that long lie in.. so who’s managing to resist jumping on their partner?

Oh, that would be me. Because he’s not fecking here.

That’s the worst part about being horny, having nothing to solve it. Frustration.

Even worse then you’re on a 4 hour journey home.

What makes us horny?

I could give you a whole scientific explanation about hormones, blood constricting, brain signals and so on.. but that’a a bit boring.

So I’ll tell you what makes me horny instead.

I already told you about my love for naughty stories. Especially yours. If it’s real, it’s more fun! I’ll want to try it.
Being told what Mr mm is going to do to me… the anticipation. I’ll want it now.
Lingerie. If I’m in something sexy, I’ll want sex. Simple.
Sex scenes. Doesn’t even have to be porn. If they’re getting some, I want some!
Alcohol. Especially white wine. Drunk and randy

So today I want to know, what makes you horny?

Dancing Shoes

Jan27

Tonight I am going to put on my ~~short~~ ~~sluty~~ best dress, and get back out there.
I shall dance the night away ~~Or sit in the corner crying all night~~

In the summer, I had great confidence. I would even be first up on the dance floor. Someone has to be first right?

My heels shall see ~~daylight~~ night lights once more, and kill my feet of course in the process.

My friend is picking me up, which I feel is slightly cheating my independence, but Camden is a bit tricky to get to. I told him I would of course give him petrol money. His reply ‘and the rest of it’. Erm…

I love going out with the guys, the girls are all a bit older than me and would rather sit and chat, but the guys are much better at clubbing. Plus, when guys I’m not interested won’t leave me alone I pretend to be engaged to my mate

The only problem is the antibiotics.. you’re not meant to drink right?

Hurt or Heal just informed me though that I won’t die, just get really drunk really quickly.

As a bit of a lightweight, I do that anyway!

We shall see how the evening goes, if I ever manage to chose an outfit.

I will apologise now for any drunked tweeting later

Let the man hunt begin!

Ghosts of Christmas Past

Dec26

Merry Christmas everyone!

Completely at the point where Christmas is just boring. Its just another day. But with some pretty presents to make you smile.

As my sisters family don’t come over until 4pm as her fiancé is working, we go to the pub at lunchtime. Sounds good right? Everyone’s in the festive spirit and buying rounds, no money needed
Would be great, apart from I used to work at the pub. I dated my manager for over a year. He treated me like shit, and I couldn’t escape him as I liked to go socialise in the local pub. I also worked at the nursery in the village and if I broke up with him he would leave notes on my car and always text me or turn up at my house.
He was in a lot of debt, lived at home still, lost his driving licence to drink driving, didnt own a passport and was a dealer. These things I didn’t find out til later. Oh, and the drinking cider from dusk til dawn (insisting this isn’t alcoholism?)
He also had a lot of insecurities. I wasn’t allowed to text my friends, or go out with them. He threw my phone against the wall so it smashed. I had to drive us everywhere. He never gave me any petrol money or said thank you. I always had to go see him, he would never come to me. (unless begging for me back)
I finished him numerous times, but he would worm his way back in. If I went to his parents house to get my things, he locked the doors and wouldn’t let me out. Trap me in his room and not let me out until I agreed to get back with him.
London was my escape, few days before I left I put all his things in a bin bag, made him come to my house so he couldn’t trap me and told him it was over. That was it. I ran away, but it was all I could do.

The thing with living in the country is that people don’t like you leaving. They told me I wouldn’t like London, that I wouldn’t fit in. Honestly, I don’t fit in, in the country!

I came back earlier in the year and I went to the pub with my friend. I wasn’t yet forgiven for leaving. The pub landlady glared at me and disappered, the landlord barely spoke to me, and the ex ignored me. I later had a text saying ‘Thursday wasn’t fair’ at 3am. I didn’t have the number. What wasn’t fair? ‘It wasn’t fair’. Then I realised it was the ex.

Today I survived. I put on my new dress and heels and drank as many drinks as I could flutter my eyelashes at the men. His parents and brother were there. I knew I should talk to them. I couldn’t bring myself to it. I spoke to both the landlady and landlord and they were fine with me this time (possibly just both very drunk). The ex was behind the bar. Thankfully all my drinks were brought to me.

As we got home, I looked at my mum. give it a few minutes. She looked at me confused. My phone beeped, here we go. The ex.

‘I’m sorry for not even saying hello to you today I just cudnt bring maself to look at you wud just make me cry sorry’

I’ve been gone 10 months, and he still can’t look at me without crying. I either completely broke his heart, or he’s just really pathetic. Most likely the latter.

I replied with what my mum told me to write (because otherwise I would have probably been a bit more harsh) but generally just wished him and his family a merry Christmas. I thought he would leave it at that.

A miss u so much

I didn’t reply

8 hours later..

I’m sorry I eva hurt you

I’m still not replying.

I deleted his number when I left. I do not see why he hasn’t done the same.

I told Mr Married Man that I have to see my ex on Christmas day. He asked how it went, so I told him what he text me. sounds like he’s still really into you. He prob realises now what he’s lost… Too late I’m all yours, don’t worry I’m not worried, I know you love me <3

I’m expecting a few more pointless texts in the early hours.

I’m now happy in a relationship with Mr Married Man. Not quite as perfect as it could be, but it will be. I miss him. Hopefully next Christmas I will be sharing with him, not the glares from the ex.

I hope your Christmasses were more fun than mine!

She Must Be Drunk

Dec24

Everyone always said the relationship between sisters gets better when you’re older. That all the fighting and bickering stops once they move out and that you will actually miss them and talk more.

My sister is older. So my whole childhood was spent being hit by her, emotionally abused, and as she was older and therefor apparently cooler, she would steal my friends. When my friends did come around she would try and embarrass me, or them. She once poured water over one of my friends, and didn’t stop there. She then poured flour over them. In their hair and everything. How pathetic.

She moved out at 21, and I moved out a few months later at 19. We don’t speak much, and when we do, it’s just sarcastic comments from her to try and bring me down.

We went to see a tribute band last night, there were 19 of us in total. She ignored me the whole evening, and sat with her arms folded looking miserable. She’s always been like that.

I used to be quiet, because my family always interrupt me when I speak. So I gave up. So I came back home loud and confident, and within a day, I’m back to my quiet insecure self. Wait a minute, when did you start talking?! You normally sit there quiet said my dads friend. So it was a noticeable difference. My mum wasn’t in the room at the time, she came in later. He asked me a question, I started replying and she spoke over me and answered. THAT is exactly why I used to be quiet I said above her. I can’t get a bloody word in usually

Because I used to be quiet, when I spoke people didnt hear me so I would get ignored. I was used to this. Last night I asked my sister a question across the table. She ignored me. On purpose. I don’t think she heard you, Sweetie said the lady next to me. My sister looked at her, smirked, said I did and then went back to ignoring me. She’s just ignorant I replied.

‘Angels’ was sang, the singler got everyone in the room to stand up, hold hands and sway. Everyone but my sister got up. She then escaped to the ladies. On her return I grabbed her to join in. Instead of holding hands she made fists. I was holding her fist. Like she was a stubborn little child crossing the road. I tried to make it hands, she refused, so for the rest of the so I held her wrist.

I spoke about her wedding to the lady next to me. I’m the head bridesmaid, and I know nothing about the wedding as my sister doesn’t speak to me. I’m meant to organise her a hen party, when I know none of her friends or anything which is happening. I can’t do it. Whatever I do will be wrong. The tears started rolling down my face. I looked at my sister. She smiled. Not in a nice way, more in a ‘I’m happy you’re crying’ way. So up I got to dance, with tears pouring down my face.

When she left, she said bye to the lady next to me, ignored me, and went. Cue more tears and everyone staring at me. It is a boy? one asked, I shook my head unable to talk. Even my Dad came over to see what was the matter. I must have been a right state if he actually bothered to get off his chair. My mums input was not allowing me anymore wine. In my family you’re not allowed to cry, and I was. Therefore the alcohol was to blame of course. But it wasn’t. I’m sober and still crying now. I returned home with make up all down my face, sobbing in the back of a mini bus.

Three hours with my sister and she broke me. I want to go back to London now. One day here was enough. I don’t think I will ever feel the Christmas spirit this year

Wind Up Merchant

Dec17

It doesn’t take much for me to get wound up over something, and for an idea to get stuck into my head. Then it won’t go away.

I’ve been feeling a bit sick recently, not as in ill. But just after I have a drink, or some food, I feel sick. Or if I’m on a hot bus I feel faint and have to get off. I have headaches, feel very tired and occasional cramps. These have just started occurring in the last few weeks. Oh, and as well as my stupid stomach expanding and that week of random hormonal crying.

I just put that down to putting the pill together.

But then the teasing started You don’t think you’re pregnant do you? No.
I knew I wasn’t. But the thought built up in my head. I looked at the caffeine and alcohol I was consuming and thought on the 1% chance (or however much it is) that I am, I could be hurting it. It’s the Christmas season though, and alcohol is necessity to survive the ‘family’ holidays.

I saw Mr Married Man last night to exchange Christmas presents. The card he got me says Merry Christmas From The Bump and he’s added ‘(to be)’. He’s thinks he’s funny. The present; a lovely necklace from Links London with three circles inside each other, to represent our family to be.

I’ll get you a pregnancy test if you’re that worried. I didn’t want one. I knew it would be negative and I’d look silly.

My best friend from home came to visit today, I told her the situation. Come on, we’ll get a test then you can stop worrying, if you are, I want to be Godmother though! So we got the test, and she spent the rest of the day trying to make me drink more. I still knew I was being silly. Lets bet on it, I think it will be negative. She thought negative too. I have never had to concentrate on weeing so much! One line appeared, negative. It was negative wasn’t it, I can tell by the huge smile on your face.

I am no longer going to let silly thoughts take over my mind… but for when they do, I have another three tests

I didn’t wait the full three minutes to see the results though, maybe I should try another. Or am I just being silly again?

Dirty Little Whispers

Seductive Secrets

Tag Archives: alcohol