It seems like a gazillion years since I wrote anything other than a paragraph here. Sorry, dudes, just had loads of STUFF to deal with and never quite got around to dealing with anything much else.
Over at Smash�s place you can find out all about his visit to the Palace of Many Sins. Like he says, it was a brilliant weekend. I did seriously contemplate squealing as I ran into his arms at the airport, but at the last minute thought better of it, as conduct unbecoming a woman in her 40�s. It WAS lovely to see Smash again tho and all the funny little worries I�d had about having houseguests that I barely know in real life were pretty soon put to the back of my mind. Local friends (Suse, Chum et al) were conspicuous by their absence for the duration as they have a bit a trouble getting their heads around the concept of a) an internet relationship which doesn�t involve kiddy-fiddlers b) a relationship between a grown woman and a man other than her partner which doesn�t involve sex and c) BF being cool with a) and b). I don�t know that there�s much I can say about the whole thing which hasn�t already been said, except maybe me and BF�s post-coital conversation on the Sunday night after Smash went home.
BF: You looooove him. He�s your boyfriend
Me: I. Do. Not.
BF: Yes you do. You loooove him, you want to kiiiiiis him.
Me: Shut up, you twat. Are you jealous?
BF: No, you silly cow, Im only teasing.
Me: You know I love you best.
BF: I know baby.
Me:���..�.I would fuck him tho. If I didn�t have you.
BF: Would you?
Me:�..Yeh. Probably. In a fuck-buddy kind of way.
BF: (in the voice of his sister and quoting her) ��..everyone down the pub knows that int roight
Both: ���BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
BabyBoyBoss left Twat Inc on Wednesday. He�d been in the job four months. Im not quite sure how that�s going to affect my career path. I very much doubt that they will give me his job � even tho I can do it � I suspect a replacement will be foisted on me before I can say "You�re all a bunch of cunts, why don�t you give me something to do or just pay me off and let me go instead of keeping me here for your amusement".
Already sorted out a major "shit hitting fan" episode since BabyBoy left, don�t suppose for one minute I will get any credit for it.
Oh, and for a parting gift, BabyBoy gave Slave and me a bottle of whisky each, the poppet. We got him gifts too. Slave went into town and got him some cufflinks and a tea mug. I burnt him a CD of porn. Slave was more upset than me about him going, I think. We�d both admit to the weeniest, teeniest little crushes but I think hers was more credible as he was just too young, too short, too�.umm�..un-RockandRoll for me! Still, he made good enough eye-candy for a while and its nice to have someone around the office to make blush.
Im delighted to say, BF�s house sale finally completed (after just five short years!) on Thursday. We now have just one mortgage to pay each month and one set of bills. Whilst some of the expenditure (not much!) was offset by the lodgers, we have still rid ourselves of about �2000 of debt ($3900?) each month. Im sure you can imagine, this will make a real difference to how we live on a day to day basis � even taking into account the studio build, house extension, kitchen and bathroom re-model which we have scheduled in for this year. Ive noticed a difference already as I was able to pay off some of my credit card bill, pay my share of the mortgage and bills on the Palace (instead of all of it!) and I still have some money in my account for such fripperies as food and petrol. We should be ecstatic, dancing on the ceiling, but we arent. Its just been such a long time coming that we�re numb to it now.
Its nice tho.
Family crisis on Friday when we found out which senior school Jooj had been allotted for next year. Not the top-of-the-table arts college we�d looked around last term, not our second choice (where BF teaches guitar on Monday�s), not our third choice (mid-range and a bit far from home, but near to my office so still do-able). We�ve been allocated a place at the local (2 minutes from our house) business and enterprise college. To say that we were shocked is something of an understatement. I cried a little bit. Jooj cried a LOT. We got on the phone and contacted a few of the other kids but none of Jooj�s circle had been allocated the same. Most were going to our second choice (BF can expect a whole load of year 7 girls wanting to learn guitar next year!). OtherJooj�s mum phoned me later in the evening to say she�s been speaking to several of the other mums and there WERE quite a few going to the enterprise college. Apparently just about every school in the county is over-subscribed this year and some kids didn�t get the places they wanted even tho they were IN catchment (we arent), AND have siblings at the school (we don�t). Jooj and I went on the enterprise college website yesterday and were actually quite pleasantly surprised. Their OFSTED isnt as bad as Id been led to believe and a new head teacher seems to be injecting some real positivity into the kids. Spoke to Shagnasty about it for a bit on Friday and Im going over to see him this afternoon (oh, wont that be fun) for a bit of a crisis meeting. Have become the queen of positive spin overnight � Alistair Campbell�s got nothing on me, mates! Jooj is feeling much better about the whole business now I�ve told her she�ll be able to walk to school, on her own, could nip home at lunchtime if she forgets anything, will get friends who don�t live a car-drive away, can use the gym(!), go to breakfast club etc etc. She said "I�ll be OK mum. I�m not scared of bullies and I know Im clever. I�ll be fine." I think we will appeal against the decision but Im doubtful that it will do any good.
Went swimming this morning. In an attempt to focus my mind on the task in hand, and not on the hot daddies in the baby pool, I had sex first, before I went out. Poor old BF didn�t know what had hit him as I had already got up, got Treacle�s breakfast and was half way through getting dressed before I decided that sex would be a good pre-swimming distraction. I was yanking off my clothes and sliding back under the covers � the poor lamb was barely awake. It was already twenty-five to nine and Treacle and I have to leave the house at nine to get to ChavVille for her lesson.
Now, as Im sure you are aware, in order to have successful Quickie Sex, a chap must first gather sticks (or Get Wood, as I am assured it is sometimes caused). I am excellent at assisting my partner in stick gathering. I could stick-gather for a living. My stick gathering capabilities are of such magnificence that even if the chap in question is carrying several pints of lager I can still assist him in the gathering of sticks. I gather sticks faster and more efficiently than any other person I know. I have been known to gather sticks for chaps who have resolutely resolved to gather NO sticks that day. I employ sneaky stick-gathering tricks which could make a chap think Im about to do all manner of unspeakable things, just so I can gather more sticks for him. I can gather sticks with such stealth that the chap in question may not even know the sticks have been gathered until its too late: "Hold on, honey, Im not quite rea�Oh! Oh. Apparently I am."
BFs Sunday Morning Torpor Weapon is no match for my Stick Gathering Stealth Bomber. KABLAMMMMM! He�s toast. Or at least a panting, goggle-eyed, shell-shocked naked wretch, spread-eagled on the bed like a student activist after the water cannon�s been �round. Blinking and burbling "wh..th..fu�.?" as I tossed the tissue box to him and jumped out of bed. A quick "see you later, sweetie" and Im outta there.
Cant tell if the sex actually worked. I was still drooling in an unseemly fashion over the Baby Pool Booty but I DID do TEN LENGTHS! TEN! That�s T to the power of EN, my friends. The post swimming shower was still as shockingly needle-y hot and horny as last time (where can I get one of those showers for my house? Huh? Huh?), leaning against the door and panting is, Im sure, not what one is supposed to do in the showers of a municipal swimming pool. Smearing oneself with slippery apricot-scented goo and rubbing it in really quite vigorously, whilst leaning against the door and panting is, I am certain, against some by-law or other. When I finally emerged from the cubicle I was frantically miming getting soap in my eye, lest my involuntary gasps, moans and squeaks should provoke suspicion amongst the half dozen or so old grannies struggling back into their velour leisure suits.
*sigh* Im sure swimming�s not supposed to be like that.
Enough already.
S
X
Oh, and Ive still got a cold.
PS Smash, dude � what was the rest of that insult we laughed at so much � me and BF have been wracking our brains. We can only remember the adjectives, "You fishy-flapped, jiz-arsed, post-menopausal���" What? WHAT WAS IT?!
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