Cheap Cock Rings…

…and the Intervention…

Before I begin our shared decent into my self pity, please play this for full effect:

Right all depressed with me? Good let’s get rolling.

So I’ve not had a fab week since the black guy, if I could personify it, it would be Mussolini, not as bad as Hitler and just a little bit dirtier… First off two of my school friends got married, which at my single state is the emotional equivalent of a prison shiv-ing in the gut (I’m sorry my pruno isn’t worth drinking, I’m doomed to be the prison slut).

Secondly, my housemates had a fun intervention planned out at my most hung over. Sure I had to phone one of them eight times because I was drunk and locked out, but no one needs that at near ten in the morning. I have to go out if I want to write about anything, but this double-edged sword of damocles means that I sometimes roll in with a man in tow and a plan to break into my house (I’m a ‘wild’ date). Fortunately my hung over state provided a bit of respite from their judgey looks, it was honestly quite a brutal chat and I had to retire outside for a cigarette and a sob. After a good five minutes of me crying someone came out with buttered crumpets and a hug. Its sobering to be told people are worried about you but at least people ARE worried about you…

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At least she can pull of being an ass…

 

So yeah, it had already been pretty savage this week, I’ve seen dogs have more sympathy for the lampposts they piss on. Sadly my laundry list of mistakes continues and I drunkenly phoned my Ex, which is just fucking fantastic. Up until this point I’ve managed to build a fabulous facade around my life which convinced him I was doing great, but hey, dignified is a state of mind (not something you can measure by how often someone drinks tequila). I have no idea what we chatted about but I know we’re meeting up to watch game of thrones together, is that a plus? Knowing me I’ll end up sleeping with him though, after the last couple guys I’m ready to sleep with a palm tree if its nice and can get inside me.

I do have self-control, but not for things that I can’t have.

The Ex will be coming round tomorrow and yes I will sleep with him, he can cry as much as he likes as long as he gets hard first. The sad thing is I don’t particularly want to sleep with him, I’m just excited because I know he functions in bed (I’m way past the end of the rope, at this point I’m hanging onto a piece of string). I’m doing my best to champion independence and sexual freedom but once in a while a gal needs a good lay.

Ct697
My sexual betrayal by men in a nutshell…

 

This brings me to the final nail in the coffin, men in general. Bruce just up and kissed me last night again when he was drunk, zero context, no lead up, in a group… It felt almost mocking, and after patchy dick I feel like I deserve a slight amount of respect. I’m into him but I like to give mixed messages not receive them, and he’s giving me ‘I’m really interested… I guess, maybe’. It would be fine if I was great at flirting, but the other day a guy said I must be romantic for liking Titanic (the movie) and I just said “how do you know? I might just love watching ships sink.”

Top tip #43 Make men question if you’re a serial killer, they love tension.

The only other guy actively trying to sleep with me convinced me I was cursed. Let me explain, he started out normal enough, he was chatting about where he lived etc, but then like a Dali painting, things began to get slightly surreal. He asked me if I had an elastic band, which seemed innocent enough if out of context. I spirited one up and out of the blue he asked me to wrap it round his cock…

dealbreaker
Whip cream… maybe…

 

 

See the curse? After cut price shoe-lace cock ring I get the even cheaper elastic band cock ring. GUYS they aren’t that expensive, I literally just googled and found one for three pounds! That’s less expensive than shoes and marginally more expensive than a pack of elastic bands! PLEASE I am actually going to buy cock-rings to prevent any more of this shit. If I go to a mans house and he has an electrical cord round his dick, I am going to use it to hang myself. Needless to say I didn’t sleep with the guy, he started asking when I started masturbating and I called it quits. In reality I should have shut it down the second he wanted me to tourniquet his penis, but I don’t like to get tied up in judgements (get it?).

So that’s been my week… Seriously shitty with seriously shitty men… There’s hope yet and a new week awaits. This blog’s lesson is always be optimistic, even if men consistently ask you to tie up their penises with household objects (the pinterest of it all…), and don’t let other people stop you from flying your freak flag high.

Stats:

Cigarettes: LOTS, enough said.

Food: None, I can’t drink AND eat AND skinny.

Exercise: See above.

Dates: Well I’m off to staples so who knows with the amount of elastic bands I could buy.

 

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