That bitch has got to go!

I’m back Lovers!

And what a great holiday it was! Sadly, I returned back to quite the different situation.

No job, no money and no sex.

Oh to fly away again!

Still, what does one do when faced with an insurmountable situation? She gets right back up and mounts that bad boy!

So, whilst I strap on my riding chaps, I figured it’d be a great time to bang out another blog to my faithful patient Lovers.

So let’s get straight into it shall we?

Three things happened in quick succession that would ultimately change everything between Callum and myself. First of all, I finally realised it’s not the size of the boat, but the motion of the ocean.

That’s right, I orgasmed with Callum!

Sure, I had to perch myself precariously on the edge of a chair, or couch, or balcony, but if I could get in that certain position, sweet sweet release could be mine!

This improved things dramatically for some time, as I knew exactly how Callum could cheer me up if we had a fight or I was feeling blue, but suddenly, things started to happen that even a roaring O couldn’t fix.

Without warning, Callum lost his other job.

When I asked what had happened I was met with a ridiculous story involving a day old sausage roll that apparently he had eaten without permission. I of course took the logical girl stance and told him that that was not really a fireable offence and he should just go back and talk it out.

But I forgot about that one important thing.

Male pride.

Turns out Callum hadn’t been fired for the sausage roll ‘incident.’ As soon as the boss started chastising him, he effectively flung up his arms in protest and stormed out.

Fucking boys!

He had no backup plan, no savings and no intention of going back.

I tried to support him through what seemed like a really dumbass move, but it was difficult when his rent was due and I was the only one who could help him pay it.

So when Callum suggested that he get himself a housemate I was all for the idea.

I was not however, for the housemate he eventually chose.

Four hundred dollars down and with not a job in sight for Callum, I was starting to question our future. (I know I know, I should have questioned much sooner, but hey love is blind. And apparently broke.)

The day this ‘housemate’ was due to move in, was the day I discovered her identity.

Wait, her?

That’s right, my long time lover, my beautiful boyfriend was officially shacking up with some girl he met through his sister.

And I was funding it.

Situation = Fucked up.

Gretchen, as she will henceforth be known, was not the type of woman you wanted living with your man.

She was thin, fashion savvy and really good at contouring her cheekbones. She may have had no ass but her legs went on for days, especially when she swanned around in shorty shorts.

Honestly I think I have her flaps committed to memory I saw them so often.

But a good girlfriend is not jealous. A good girlfriend supports her man in his efforts to rebuild his fast crumbling life. A good girlfriend is calm, demure and welcoming to new friends and acquaintances entering her boyfriends’ life.

I am not a good girlfriend.

I was over at his house constantly, making sure they were friendly but not ‘too’ friendly, cooking meals to remind Callum how good a cook I was, then paying for takeaway when that cooking went tits up.

But it turned out I needn’t have worried. Although having someone pay half the rent was a relief for Callum (and myself as I was actually the one paying,) Gretchen seemed to be showing some undesirable tendencies.

First of all, she was a vodka sneak, and a shithouse one at that. Within a month, Callum’s half full bottle of vodka was almost gone and tasted suspiciously watery.

We made a toxic punch one Saturday night to get a bit of a buzz while Gretchen was out. It was so intense we could only down a few cups each before we retired for some much needed boozy sex. The next morning the bowl had somehow moved from the fridge to the sink and was decidedly empty.

Bitch had come home at 3am and downed the whole bowl!

She was always around. And Callum tiptoed around her like she owned the place. On our six-month anniversary he led me to his room where I was confronted with candles, champagne and strawberries.

I loved it, and it was just what I needed after fearing that he may have stopped caring about me. Of course all those aphrodisiacs worked their magic on my nether regions and I jumped on him with glee.

Only to be told ‘not tonight’ as little miss Gretchen might hear us and be disturbed.

That was it.

I hated her.

The bitch had officially messed with my sex life, the ultimate insult and highest crime in my book.

She had to go.

Unfortunately, my evil plans to usurp her power over my man were interrupted by the least expected party.

The dentist.

Callum came down with the mother of all toothaches and had to go to an emergency dentist the very day I began hatching my nefarious schemes. Three hundred dollars and a root canal later I was ready to snap.

Callum wasn’t getting a job. He wasn’t saving money by living with Gretchen because the bitch was now always late for rent and he was too terrified to confront her.

I was about to find out why.

Stay tuned for the crazy ending to this messed up relationship. Will I get out alive? Or more importantly, will I get out with any money left in my bank account?

Claire xx

Pickup line of the week: I don’t care if they’re real, they’re magnificent.

Don’t forget the Facebook page!











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