Sick....oh, poor me!
2006-11-28, 9:37 p.m.
Im sick!Not sick as in �latex spanking dress, Perspex porn shoes, half a bottle of JD and to hell with the consequences�. More like, sick as in �hacking up great grey-green Dockers� Oysters, nose blowing in a Symphony for Tuba way and feeling like I�ve had seven bells kicked out of me�.
And I�ve lost my voice.
It was on its way out on Friday but I just sounded a bit husky and sexy and Mariella Frostrup-y. Had a trade show in Nottingham at the weekend so, in the interests of not maxing out the Twat Inc Fuel Account, I had to swap my lovely but rather thirsty Mazda for the Company Pool Car which is an ancient Rover 75. It gives a whole new meaning to the word �sedate�. I always thought of that word in the same kind of context as regal, stately etc. Hmmm. Its got the same root as �sedative� doesn�t it? Thought so.
Managed to blag a freebie for BF to come too and we drove up on Saturday morning, just in time to help put the exhibition stands together. Being a multinational, multi-million pound company, Twat Inc employs an army of professionals to put the stand together and to ensure we present the right corporate image to the waiting world. Yeh-huh. We do.
Actually, its one bloke, with a hightop. There�s no way one bloke can erect an exhibition stand, so of course, everyone (including BF) has to pitch in and help. The chaps did the steel erecting and the stuff requiring the use of power tools, the florists did what florists do, XXX faffed about a bit and generally tried to lift stuff which was much too heavy for her puny little body and had to be rescued. Stepfie did all the crap jobs: 2 coats of emulsion on 10 display plinths of varying sizes and degrees of Fucking Ridiculously Heaviness and then used up a whole bottle of sugar soap scrubbing Chelsea Flower Show Mud off the 20� long graphic panels where nobody could be arsed to clean the fucking things before they put them away in the summer. Gah.
Back to the hotel for a quick bath and mutual oral sex (just me and BF, not the whole team) and then out to dinner. I don�t often name names here, as I should hate anyone to find these pages by mistake but let me just say this:
DON�T GO TO THE NOTTINGHAM KNIGHT FOR DINNER. IT�S SHIT.
BF said he had an inkling I wasn�t going to enjoy it as he watched me open the menu�
Me(opening menu): *sigh* (slumps shoulders)
I�m sick sick sick of the �MacD0nalds for Grown-Ups� culture that exists here in the UK. Chain restaurants are guilty of the most heinous crimes against nutrition. If you MUST serve chips with everything, dudes, then train your staff to cut up potatoes. The chip is a wonderful thing � a culinary delight when done right. Shaken out of a bag, out of the freezer straight into the fat-fryer and served flaccid, tasteless and anaemic is not �done right�. Balsa wood and chicken breast are not one-and-the-same product. Home made is not the same as reconstituted from a packet by a minimum wage teenager. Oh, I could go on for HOURS about the injustice of it all.
Instead I got stuck into the cut-price whisky and anaesthetized myself against the pain of how badly fucked up my �Cumberland sausage and buttered mash, with fresh garden peas served in a giant Yorkshire pudding and topped with onion gravy� was.
It sounds OK, doesn�t it? I would�ve been OK if I�d cooked it. Or, in fact, if anyone who knew ANYTHING about cooking had made it. Sadly, that was not the case. And Id only had it in the first place as it was the only thing on the menu that didn�t come with chips.
Got back to the hotel intending to have Crazy Monkey Sex but the whisky had other ideas and I was in a snoring coma within seconds of my head touching the pillow.
Woke up at 5 when BF went for a pee. Had Cray Monkey Sex then, instead. In the dark.
I�ve heard it said that having sex in the dark is somehow inferior to having sex with the lights on � the kind of thing old married couples might do. I certainly wouldn�t advocate it as an every night occurrence as it does have its drawbacks but every now and then, it�s just FANTASTIC. And it�s fantastic because, when you can�t see anything (or very little) you just HAVE to rely on your other senses. You don�t need to be thinking about holding your stomach in or whether your cum-face makes you look like you shat a watermelon or whether your arse looks a bit funny from this angle. When we have sex in the dark, we rarely even speak. We�re too busy squeezing and stroking and slurping and generally not giving a hoot. We roll around like�.ummm..CrazyMonkeys, I guess, and everything�s very passionate and sensual and intense. G�wan, flick that light switch and FEEL the difference!
Anyway. Sunday was the Trade Show proper. First of all a hearty breakfast in the Nottingham Knight. *sigh*. Although, they did have one of those fab autotoastmakingconveyorthingies where the customer (!) places his/her own bread on the rack and it chugs along a little conveyor thing through the toaster and out the other side all done and ready and fab. Cold toast is the norm in UK hotel chains, served by an over familiar matronly type who can�t tell the difference between speed and efficiency. AutoToastConveyors are great. Teeny squares of rock hard butter in plastic �portion-control� packs are not.
The trade show went remarkably well. I lost my voice completely by 9.30 but soldiered on regardless. The florists made some amazing pieces, most of which went in the back of the car and are now adorning various bits of The Palace of Many Sins. There�s a giant protea and Grand Prix rose arrangement on the kitchen table(!), the fireplace has an orange anthurium and rose arrangement strung with tiny orange LED lights and on the coffee table is a centre-piece at least 2�6� in diameter made from berries, orchids, baccarat roses, moss, and trails of grasses. It will be dead before the weekend and I�m not entertaining at ALL this week so it will all go to waste. I�ll take photos!
By the end of the day my feet were SCREAMING. Mostly, they were screaming �You stupid bitch! Why didn�t you wear flat shoes!�, but I never listen to my feet, which is why I walked around the WHOLE DAY in red patent stiletto slingbacks with a 4�heel. I had my grey Ralph Lauren suit on, with Jooj�s red and white striped t-shirt underneath. One of the florists made me a corsage of red anthurium and wire. It was divine.
After the pack-down, BF generously drove us home as I�d had to take my shoes off by then and was starting to feel a bit peaky. Got home in 2 and a half hours, straight to the pub, back home, had sex, went to bed. Phew.
Woke up Monday morning feeling like a pile of shite. As Id been seen at the show being poorly and awfully brave, it probably would�ve been quite acceptable for me to have taken a day off but I had to swap the cars back and I had �400 of cash sales in my jacket pocket and a meeting with NewBoss at 1.30. I struggled through the day but I knew I wasn�t going to work today. My voice is non-existent and I�m sneezing my head off. I went in for a couple of hours this morning just to do a hand-over with Slave but I was out of there by 10 and back in bed by 10.15. Woke at 12.30 when my phone went off. Slave wanted to email some documents over to me for checking. Even when I�m not there I�m there!
I�ll have to go in tomorrow but I really could do with a couple of days off.
After I�d sorted Slave out I did a couple of loads of laundry and made a sausage casserole for dinner. Sausage casserole is a staple end-of-the-month dinner in our house. Its cheap, its real food and everyone likes it. I�m sure it would be quite quick to make, too if I wasn�t obliged to brown the sausages first. I can�t put them straight in the casserole. They just remind me too much of��.umm��cocks. I�ve eaten enough unappetizing pale mottled cock in my grubby little past, believe me. And it�s not something I choose to do in front of my kids. So. Let�s brown the sausages shall we! Lest mummy starts scaring people by getting a whole sausage in her mouth without cutting it up and then saying �NOW can I have new curtains?�
And on that note, I leave you with this little quiz, which I shamelessly gacked from la-the-sage. I don�t normally do quizzes, but this one was FUN!
Next time, I promise the long awaited eyeliner lesson (don�t worry, if you don�t know what Im talking about, there are SOME that do).