Parties, parties everywhere!

2008-08-25, 7:46 p.m.

Friday night

Weï¿½re going out to dinner (to Gandhiï¿½s Chopsticks! Indian AND Chinese all-you-can-eat buffet) with Lee and Anne Marie tonight. Judging by the texts L and I have been sending each other this afternoon, weï¿½ll just be scoffing down a couple of entrees and getting back here pronto for some BIG SHAGGING. Itï¿½s a shame weï¿½re both feeling so horny as Im really looking forward to going somewhere different for once.

Had to nip into town at lunchtime to get a blood test done and managed to squeeze in the purchase of TWO (count them!) new dresses! If L takes any ï¿½suitable for general releaseï¿½ photos of me tonight I shall post a pic for your delectation as the dresses are both pretty splendid, being identical apart from the colour and for the bargain price of just ï¿½6 each!! If you live near to a QS store, Id suggest you get down there asap they have these very same dresses, not only in fuchsia and turquoise (the ones I bought) but also in coral, white, lemon, chocolate and black. Linen dress ï¿½6 = bargain, girls! (and one or two boys!).

EDIT: Managed to get a half decent pic, so hereï¿½s the dress:

Got home around 5.15 and have had a showerï¿½..after the obligatory 20 mins of aggressive self-abuse just to take the edge of the horniness. The batteries in the waterproof abuser have died so I couldnï¿½t combine the two practices of shower AND abuse. Im kind of scared to take a non-waterproof abuser into the shower. Im pretty certain that I want the Cause box on my Death Certificate to say ï¿½astonishing old age and nothing to do with any nasty diseaseï¿½ rather than ï¿½electrocution whilst masturbating in showerï¿½. I also had a glass of very posh sherry on the high shelf in the shower, what with it being Friday night and all, so now I guess I am a wanker AND a drunk. L and I are becoming the same person, dear readers.

Speaking of L, he has requested the wearing of the spanking dress for any and all sexual activity this evening. I think it might be an idea to change into it once I get home, rather than to wear it TO the restaurant. Although, one day I would like to go out in it, with a coat over the top so you can only see the front. Last week, in a fit of naughtiness, I wore a quarter cup bra and pornstar knickers to the workies under my horrid ï¿½cant be bothered to find anything glamorous to wearï¿½ nobbly sweater and none-too-clean jeans. It gave me a bit of a thrill if Im honest, but then, Im easily thrilled. Even something seemingly innocuous, like finding a pictureï¿½..ï¿½

ï¿½ï¿½ï¿½ï¿½I just googled ï¿½images menï¿½s nipplesï¿½ out of interest and BLAM! There was another half an hour gone. I was going to say something but, to be honest, I cant remember what it was. Go ahead and google it for yourself if you want to. Iï¿½ll wait.

Monday afternoon

You finished yet? Jolly good! Well, thatï¿½s the weekend pretty much over.

The restaurant was a bitï¿½.ummï¿½.well, lets just say I was completely underwhelmed. I had my reservations in the taxi going down there when the big fat chavvy taxi driver was telling us we could have ï¿½a really good feed-up and its not posh at all, nothing wots been mucked abaht wiv, just stuff wot you reckernize. And chips.ï¿½

Sadly he was right. I think it would be ideal if you just wanted a bit of a scoff, say, for a colleagues quick birthday lunch, or if you were treating your kids. But, to be honest, it wasnï¿½t much more than a glorified takeaway. Nice bright lighting so you could see what youï¿½re eating (bit like McDonalds. *sigh*) but no imagination put into any of the Indian OR Chinese dishes. Just the standard fare, pretty much all the Chinese stuff had batter on and the Indian choices were bland in the extreme. On a side table was a huge VAT of ï¿½extra hot sauceï¿½ and a veritable trough of chips. We also found that, being sat in a booth, once somebody decided they wanted to get out (like if they wanted a few more hundred crab claws for example *looks away guiltily*), then EVERYBODY had to get up. Frankly it was a pain in the arse. Hereï¿½s their Christmas Menu should you be in any doubt about the boringness of the menu. All in all a great ideaï¿½ï¿½.fucked up. We came out of there bloated from all the stodge and feeling a bit in need of vegetables.

We got a taxi to the workies as Anne Marie had expensive shoes on but within an hour or so we were back at our house, drinking and singing along to the stereo as usual.

Saturday I went off to Lidlï¿½s like a good housewifey and then made a St Clements trifle to take to the 1st of the weekendï¿½s parties. The lemon custard was so delicious (I think it was the half dozen egg yolks and the half pint of double cream which helped!) that I had real trouble getting it into the trifle dish and not just tipping the lot into my cavernous gob. L drove me into Chigley on the way to visit his dad, so I could see if there were any more of those fab linen dresses left in QS (there werenï¿½t. Boo). On the way there, we saw Clare, the daughter of the friend having the party we were going to that afternoon.

ï¿½Fucking hellï¿½ says L ï¿½Thereï¿½s Clare.ï¿½ Clare has a very lovely face. Sadly it sits between some of the lankest hair and the ODDEST body Iï¿½ve ever seen on a woman of her young years (sheï¿½s about 25). Sheï¿½s an astonishingly clever girl but seems to think that this means she need not converse with mere mortals, and that anything they might do is just pointless and trivial. Likeï¿½ummmmï¿½.wearing clothes that are clean and fit us, for example. Saturday afternoon was fairly bright and sunny. Clare was wearing a pair of brown cords which flapped just above her ankles and managed to be both baggy AND tight at the same time, teamed with hairy hikers socks (in clover pink) and those kind of sandals that remind me a little bit of rafts. Theyï¿½ve got Velcro straps and a rubbery sole thatï¿½s ergonomically crafted to fit the shape of your insole or something. Anyway, theyï¿½re fucking ugly when worn by bearded, elderly, paunchy CAMRA members. Even worse on a young woman. As any fool knows, life is just TOO FUCKING SHORT TO WEAR UGLY SHOES. Whoever you are. She was wearing a shapeless t-shirt under which her enormous breasts swung outwards from each sloping shoulder. Nipples like Scammell wheel nuts pointed resolutely outwards, almost meeting her elbows on either side. Yes. THAT low-slung! Her Neanderthal knuckle-grazing walk wasnï¿½t doing anything to help the overall look, either. Somehow it makes it all the more irritating that she has this positively angelic visage.

Now then. I would defend ANY personï¿½s right to wear whatever they fucking well like. However, they DO need to have some kind of redeeming feature. Clare is a supercilious, morose, intellectual snob with less social graces than a wasp. She has been regularly insulting, standoffish and downright rude to us, even BEFORE we decided we didnï¿½t like her, so I can say whatever I bloody well like about her here, mï¿½kay?

Needless to say, L and I quickly degenerated into ever more childish insults.

ï¿½You love her. You want to see her naked.ï¿½
ï¿½No, YOU love her. You want a lesbo licky lunch with herï¿½
ï¿½No. You do. You want a big slice of Clarey Hairy Clam Pie, cos you LOVE girls whose pubes start here *points to belly button* and end there *points to knees* YumYumYum ï¿½ thatï¿½s you, going down on Clare *waggles tongue* LWALWALWALWA!ï¿½
ï¿½You know that programme we watched? They stitched all the spare bits of minge onto Clareï¿½s minge.ï¿½

See? We are hopelessly puerile and spiteful. A couple of hours later, at the party, L came up to me looking a bit pale and tearful. He said,ï¿½ I just made myself a little bit sick, thinking about Clareï¿½s mingeï¿½.

Lee and Anne Marie were there, of course and (lest you think itï¿½s just me and L who are mean about Clare) were heard exchanging astonished remarks that when Clare was sat at the table, her breasts were BELOW the table top. Anne-Marie was positively gawping with wonder.

By about 9.30 it was cold and raining, which is never good when the party youï¿½re at is in a garden. Of a house too small for us all to go inside. We went home (that sounds bad, but we were some of the last to leave!) and got drunk there instead.

Sunday morning, up with the lark (cos they DO get up at midday after enthusiastically sucking off their husbands, no matter what Bill Oddie might tell you to the contrary)and a little stroll round to B & Q for a couple of nice potted plants for the hostesses of another party. Also slipped into Matalan and got one of those cute little baby outfits that makes normally sentient beings go all gooey as we were to be seeing Slavey and her baby-of-most-sponginess at the party. The outfit was a little top with a picture of a jeep and some beachy stuff and a wee ï¿½vintage styleï¿½ slogan that said ï¿½surf safariï¿½ on it, and a little pair of surf shorts. Heehee, baby clothes are coooooool.

Somewhat shamefully, I then got lost trying to find the workies without walking all the way back to my house first and had to phone L for some directions. We had a little lunchtime snifter and went back some for shower-based shenanigans (well, it saves water!) which did get a little more spanky/rough/bitey than usual and ended up with me having to go to a party with a big fat hickey on my neck. Cos I AM 14, as well you know.

Oh HOW much do I love Slavey and her family? They are just the most splendidly splendid people. Baby-of-most-sponginess (Boms) was grizzling big-time when we arrived, so we passed him straight to L for some evil mean bullying and horridity. As you can see, L isnï¿½t very good with babies. *ahem*

Almost no-one noticed my hickey and those who did just mentioned it discretely rather than pointing and yelling ï¿½Youï¿½ve got a fucking great hickey!ï¿½ like my family would have done. The food was TOP as usual, mostly because Slaveyï¿½s BF and his dad own a Thai restaurant and they provide a Thai banquet for everyone. Thereï¿½s also a huge table of English buffet food for ~~weirdos~~ those who donï¿½t like Thai food. If you like you can have a bit of both, some Gaeng Masaman Nua say, with a bit of pork pie on top. And some Pringles.

We had the spiffingest time. Im meeting Slavey for lunch on Friday so I will be able to get a bit more Boms cuddling in then, if Im lucky.

This morning, Treac and Jooj came back from Shagnastyï¿½s and Treac and I went off for a stroll round the neighbourhood, armed with a pair of scissors and the washing up bowl, gathering bunches of elderberries from along the many footpaths criss-crossing our bit of Chigley. Occasionally we would met someone picking blackberries and they would look at us in an odd way as we are the only people in Chigley who know what an elderberry is and that you can eat them (not the green ones, they contain cyanide! Yep. REALLY!). Treac ate enough to make her teeth go black.

Made a minced beef and onion pie for dinner (yes, from scratch! AND the pastry, too!) and allï¿½s right with the world.

Later
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