mardi, octobre 4

toes etc

I’m sitting at work writing this in a word document so that it kind of looks like I’m being productive. Maybe if I throw in some mad bullet point kind of situation… hang on… wait for it…
  • here
  • it
  • goes
  • bullet
  • point
  • madness

K done with that sheeyat. I’ve had my ipod plugged into my head all day, throwing down a crazy mix of lyrics born, late eighties Britpop, moody melacholybabies, and the guerillas. Just for spice, you know, cause damon ‘I heart raspberry sundae’ albarn is nothing if not spicy.

I think I added too much happy Mondays, though, cause they are coming up with disturbing frequency, causing me to flail my arms about (flail! Ha you said flail!) and wiggle in my chair needlessly. People keep walking up behind me and talking to me, but I CAN’T HEAR YOU when I’ve got my headphones in, don’t just talk to me, call my name call my name.

It’s a stereophonic sound spectacular and I ain’t gettin off for nobody.

Well, except myself, and my mobile phone lover, for the next few days, but three more sleeps THREE MORE SLEEPS and I may actually be getting’ some in person. I swear this out of town crap may be the death of me. I feel as though it’s been years and years and years. Yes, german, I know that you are in much more dire straights, but dammit I’m selfish when it comes to sex I want it all for me.

That’s a lie, actually, I’m a very giving partner who’d rather give *you* pleasure than take it for myself.



It’ll be a couple more days regardless.

I plan to meet him at the door in my new bra & undies, wearing thigh high stockings and holding a bottle of wine. The wine may or may not hit the tile floor. At least there is no carpet anywhere in the vicinity, but I should probably investigate the impact (ha!) of red wine on slate tile, and whether or not it will permanently stain grout. I shall lead him to the bedroom where there will be candles and possibly strawberries or some other edible romantic waste of money – let’s not kid, things will be eaten but the strawberries shall sit idly by.

Then I’m going to make his toes curl. Then he’ll turn me over and do it to me. And all will be right with the world once again.