Too Drunk to Blog

Trouble with being drunk is that I just want to go on and on about things that aren't even related to sex.

Like, this kid says to me, "I aint doing algebra because its long and what's the point? When am I going to need it?"

And this speech just came out my mouth.

"OK. Look ahead to a few years time when you are working in MacDonalds. Someone comes in and orders 2 burgers and 3 fries. You say to yourself, let b be the number of burgers and f be the number of fries. They want 2b+3f. Then the person behind wants 4 burgers and 4 fries. So you go that's 4b+4f. But you are smart and decide to collect like terms together. So you want (2+4)b + (3+4)f. Cool, you say, that's 6b+7f. "Hey boss" you shout, "I have a formula for the number of burgers required!" So what does your boss, say, huh?"
(Kid shakes head and shrugs)
"Your boss. of course, says, shut up, you're not paid to think. And you think, I wish I had a job where I was paid to think. And then you think I wish I had a Maths GCSE so I could get a job where I was paid to think. And then, after all those years, you see the point of algebra"

Where do you come from, My Lovelies?

"Where do you come from, My Lovelies
When you're alone in my blog?
Tell me your originating websites
I want to look inside my log
Ha ha ha, yes I do" [with thanks to Peter Sarstedt]

To be honest, I know where you come from because I have this great thing from http://my.statcounter.com . I cannot tell you how compelling this free visitor info thing is. A boon and a blessing to the narcissistic and the nosey.

Gillian, my angel, you must have millions of visitors. More people come from your site than any other single place Several of them have stayed for longer than the usual 0 secs. You are very welcome here, Gillian fans, and dress however the hell you like during your visit.

However, the people I love the very best just open up their browsers and, with an attractive directness, type in http://cheapthrills40.blogspot.com. Hello, you two.

A few come from http://h.webring.com/hub?ring=sexblogs , a sexblogs webring. I appreciate that I am disappointing to these guys lately as I seem to suck less cock in the winter. I may have something for you later, so check back.

A sticky trickle come from the various blog directories but the most fascinating land here via a search.

Here's one of my favourites:
http://www.google.com/search?q=%22flirting%20techniques%22%20AND%20%22tape%20measure%22&btnG=Search&hl=en&lr=

"flirting techniques" AND "tape measure"???

This search turned out to be a perfect match for my magnum opus on flirting:
http://cheapthrills40.blogspot.com/2005/05/how-to-flirt-with-me-anyway.html

But what was going through your head, kind stranger from Willimantic, Connecticut? How marvellous that "willy" and "romantic" should co-exist in the same placename! Only in America!
In the unlikely event that you stumble upon my blog again (perhaps while searching for "smelly" and "long bland corridor") I would love to hear from you.

"How was last night?"
"Excellent, totally Willimantic"

Glorious Chick-Lit Neat Happy Ending

You couldn't make it up!

So, inspired by the courage of SSA, I find love and drive off in the Smelly Beemer with Die, the anti-hero.

But what of the minor characters that complicated and ultimately enabled our unlikely union?

Let's rewind back to the fateful 3rd Nov. SSA is telling me the details of her break-up row with her husband.

Scene: a long bland corridor in the hospital. SSA and Dolores are walking together, looking shocked and gesticulating in their girly over-expressive way.

SSA: He asked me if I was having an affair. I said I'm leaving so I don't have an affair. So he asks if I like someone. I say I like EVERYONE better than you. So hub shouts out so the neighbours can hear: "CHILDREN! YOUR MOTHER IS LEAVING BECAUSE SHE CAN'T KEEP HER KNICKERS ON"

DOLORES: Noooooo! Hahahahahahaha. Oh but its not funny really.

{Long pause}

DOLORES: HAVE you got another fella?

SSA: (Evasively, with slightly sheepish side look) Its not really about that

With that slightly sheepish look, I saw exactly what had happened, though I didn't push it then, since she was blubbing. Those of you without the darkly powerful intuition that characterises us Scorpio Tigers, hang on a mo.

Last Sunday, I went to visit SSA in her new house. I was itching to blurt, so I did.
"So then, you and Ade?"
(Outrage and evasion from SSA)
"So come on then, what about you and Ade?"
(Oh stop it, where has this come from?, shut up, I'd have to be mad etc"
"Well we have already established you are mad. I suppose you'll tell me when you're ready"
(Tell you what)
"About you and Ade"
(I'll tell you when there's something to tell)
"Are you sure? Are you sure?"

So I knew, though she wouldn't spill, even under my drip-drip torture. Just to check though, I sent a big chatty text to Ade, and he didn't reply, which was all the reply I really needed.

Then last night, SSA texted me to tell me I was right, but not to gossip, so I'm not, just telling you, my closest friends.

Do I mind? Course not. Let her have Monsieur Le Grand Willy with my compliments. They are both mad darlings and so suited. In my love-addled state of mind, I want all my mates to get off with each other.

But don't you think?, you couldn't make it up.

Three Things

Gillian says I have to do this thing.

Three names I go by:

1. Dolores
2. My Real Name
3. Miss

Three screen names I have had:

1. Dolores
2. What is a screen name
3. Anyway?

Three physical things I like about myself:

(Kinda nonsensically in love with the whole package but if I had to choose)

1. Eyes
2. Height
3. Legs

Three physical things I don't like about myself:

1. Funny lump behind ear
2. My gall bladder
3. Big tum
   

Three parts of my heritage:

1. Tanners from Bermondsey
2. Ag Labs from Beaconsfied
3. Merchant seamen from Folkestone
   

Three things that scare me:

1. Heights
2. Overtaking
3. Confrontation

Three of my everyday essentials:

1. Rolling tobacco
2. Love
3. Mobile phone

Three of my favorite musical artists:

1. Tom Waits
2. Bob Dylan
3. Placebo

Three of my favorite songs:

1. Don't Think Twice - Bob Dylan
2. Damaged - Plummet
3. My Funny Valentine
   

Three things I want in a relationship:

1. Passion
2. Fun
3. Equality

Three LIES:

1. Mustn't grumble
2. It only takes 2 hours to drive from Exeter to Reading
3. Its about time we started thinking about Christmas

Three TRUTHS:

1. I am too tired for this
2. We could all do with a nap in the afternoon
3. There's something odd about the Blogger formatting buttons

Three physical things about the opposite sex that appeal to me:

1. Willies
2. Bigness (not just of willies)
3. Arses
   

Three of my favorite hobbies:

1. Knitting
2. Smoking
3. Starting projects that are much too hard for me & leaving them half done

Three things I want to do really badly now:

1. Have a wash
2. Go to bed with D
3. Freeze time

Three careers I've considered:

1. Barmaid
2. Prostitute
3. Pop star

Three places I want to go on vacation:

1. New Zealand
2. China
3. Naples

Three kid's names I like:

1. John
2. Alison
3. Sam

Three things I want to do before I die:

1. Finish this freaking thing
2. Spend 60 years with D
3. Karaoke

Three ways that I am stereotypically a boy:

1. Take computers to bits
2. Discuss which route is the best
3. Have no interest in housework

Three ways that I am stereotypically a girl:

1. Often shriek when driving
2. Can't throw a ball
3. Require constant adoration

Three celebrity crushes

1. Johnny Depp
2. James Stewart
3. Tony Benn
   

Three people you want to see carry on this meme

1. Alec Weston
2. Mystery Dude
3. Anyone nice reading this blog
   

May Need A New Blog

I shake my head indulgently and smile wistfully at those days when I had Cheap Thrills. What I have done has been very expensive and not particularly thrilling except in a thrill of horror travelling down my spine sort of way.

I don't want to big myself up so much that I imply the weather was wild wet and windy just for me on Thursday 3rd November, but that is how the weather was. I was very thrilled with myself for staying up late and mending the hospital teaching service computer, so thrilled that I dashed to the hospital to deliver it before work, so that I could bathe pseudo-modestly in their adulation. My friend SSA came out to meet me and show me where to park, she looked thin and worried. When I asked how she was she told me she had left her husband of 20 years, rented a house and moved in with her 4 children.
"Huh?"
"I don't love him."
"Huh?"
"He does not support me and he doesn't even like me."
"Huh?"
etc etc

Here's the thing: she never moaned about how hard it was to leave, she made her mind up and she left. With her husband yelling threats and throwing clothes at her.

I was astounded by her courage and went to teach the teenage mums in a haze of amazement. When I left there, I drove randomly, finding myself unexpectedly in a car park in Tilehurst. SSA must have thought that she left her husband because she needed to make the most of her one life. Whereas I know that the universe revolves around me, and like the weather, the turmoil in her life happened to show me what I had to do. At long last, after all these years, I had to face the truth. And then I had to tell the truth.

I phoned D, who happened to be doing something messy with cables in a hole near Prospect Park. I drove to meet him and he got in my car wearing one of those luminous green jerkins, (incidentally a very sexy garment in my book). I told him I was going to phone J that very night and tell him about D and that I could not spend another weekend with J because it was soul-destroying. D said if I did it, he would look after me, and if I didn't he would still look after me.

So I did it. I am a great big softy coward but I did something brave. I have just spent my second weekend staying at D's house and have been through a lot of awfulness. J haunts me like a sad ghost and I feel like shit about it. My oldest son was mad at me, and then wafted around looking bereft, but you know what? he's always done that. D is treating me with such consideration and sweetness that it is beginning to do my head in. I am forced to spend the weekends without a decent internet connection.

I'm not even sure I can work it out with D, but at least the truth is out there now. Its up the flagpole, in the public domain, on the table.

And the truth is: D, that's Die, that's Dion Evans, is the love of my life.