And a very happy Saturday night to you all! It’s 2am where I am and I simply can’t get myself off to sleep so I thought I’d do my second favourite thing after sleeping and blog instead. Eating comes a close third but I’ve already eaten a whole box of Cornetto’s so I don’t really feel the need to feast right now 😉 What I will do is tell you guys about my raincheck.
Tonight was supposed to be another delightful catchup with Salvatore. Sadly his dinner went overtime and around 10pm I got a call asking if we could reschedule as he was buggered. Full points to the guy for actually calling and not simply sending a whiney text. I gracefully accepted and we’re supposed to be having lunch tomorrow. Well, a quick lunch followed by lots of sex, yay! Although I must say I was a bit disappointed Salvatore called the night of frivolous sex off so late. The reasons were two fold. First of all I had been spending most of the day watching sex documentaries getting myself mentally prepped for what I had hoped would be a long night (also the reason I slept in until 3 today, just so I wouldn’t fall asleep midway through the action) but the main reason I was a little piqued about the situation was I had been holding off eating a lot of food in my cupboard all day. “But why?” I hear you ask. Well Lovers, as you know I can create quite the gust when I eat the wrong foods and as it happened this weekend I had all the fatal fart inducing ingredients resting in my pantry. Especially a couple of packets of my favourite chips. They called to me all day, just begging to be eaten, but I stayed remarkably strong, knowing I would thank myself later when I was fluff free in the sack.
So you can imagine my dismay when all that intense self sacrifice had been one big waste! I soothed myself by immediately diving head first into the offending packets and felt an instantaneous calm settle over me as the salt enriched flavours trickled down my eager throat. I couldn’t eat too much though, as the flow on effect could carry on until tomorrow morning. I can only hope that everything ‘dissipates’ by lunchtime. Although, just to be on the safe side I might be cautious and order a salad. Take note of that boys, sure some girls order salads because they are skinny twigs from the planet “I Love Avocado” but others such as myself are doing it for your benefit. We want the steak sandwich with onions and the lot oh so much but we also know you love doggy.
Something’s gotta give.
So, now that you know what I’ve been up to tonight I’ll fill you in on me and Salvatore’s last little adventure. It’s so nice to finally have found a man who I can text for sex, have a lovely time with and then not talk to for the next three weeks. I highly recommend the practice ladies, it’s a wonderful de-stresser after a hard week at work.
One such weekend a few weeks ago Salvatore made first contact and asked if I wanted to ‘hang out’ which as everyone knows is code for ‘my penis will be hanging out of my pants and you will then do spectacular things to it.’ I agreed and he jumped in the car to drive over, thinking we would ‘hang’ at my place. I had other plans though. My room was a complete mess, and thanks to an unfortunate incident I had suffered a few days prior, smelled a lot like vomit.
(The vomit smell was actually totally not my fault. I had a shit of a cold that I just couldn’t budge so in an effort to speed things along I popped a few harmless cold and flu tablets one day before work. On an empty stomach. A stomach that I then filled with chocolate in an attempt to stop the nausea I was feeling. Suffice to say it didn’t work and I had to make my excuses to my boss and get out of there. I hopped on a train home and hugged my stomach tight, hoping against hope I could make it home before twenty or so coconut rough buttons exploded out of me. To my horror, the train diverted and began taking the long route to my house, adding at least ten exta minutes to my journey. By this point my stomach was screaming and was frantically scribbling messages to it’s pen pal my brain. I only got a glimpse of the notes but it was enough to know something was coming out and soon. My butt cheeks clenched involuntarily thinking they might be up for some action but luckily the brain zipped out a quick email to let them know it was out of their jurisdiction. This was strictly an above the belt problem. Finally I couldn’t take it anymore and at the next stop I leaped off the train. Surely there were bins at the train station right? Not a damn one in sight. I ran for the escalator, knowing there were toilets upstairs. As soon as I stepped on that escalator though, I knew it was too late. I took a deep breath and stared around myself in horror as my mouth filled with coconut. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to go, and worst of all, nowhere to vomit. There was only one thing for it. I opened my handbag and emptied the contents of my stomach into it’s pleather lined interior. Why god why? First I smack into a door and now I’m defacing my own precious handbag on a packed escalator? What’s next? I felt the horrified stares of everyone around me and as my heaving coughs subsided I tried to act naturally. I finally reached the top of the escalator and tried to step off casually, knowing full well I was now carrying a bag full of my own vomit, with just a touch splattered on my shirt. I escaped to the toilets and retrieved all my valuables out of the handbag. No matter how much I rinsed them under the feeble trickle of the bathroom tap, everything still stunk of vomit. I grabbed my wallet and keys and wrapped them in my scarf, the only thing I had managed to grab out of my bag before the spew-fest began and trudged back to the platform to catch another train. I made crazy eyes at anyone who made a move to sit near me. It was honestly for their own protection, I smelled so bad of vomit I just wanted to rip my own shirt off. So when I got home I simply shed my clothes, crawled into bed and pulled the covers over my head. If I went to sleep maybe I could dream it didn’t happen! But because I’m lazy the clothes remained there for the next few days, slowly but surely filling my room with the most unsavoury of stenches.)
Bet you weren’t expecting that hey Lovers? Ah good times…. except not.
Uh oh, unexpected emergency calls (sadly nothing sex related) so I’ll have to pick this up again very soon Lovers!
Pickup line of the week: “Hi, my name is Claire, but you can call me Tonight.”