Boys with Girls.
The wife has been in contact with a lad she used to go to Primary School with quite recently. Now… this lad has a girlfriend, and he knows that Emma knows this. And yet over the past week he has continued to bombard her with overly-nice and flirty text messages. If she doesn’t reply within a 5-10 minutes, he’ll send a follow up text “Is everything ok?” or “Oi, you not talking to me?” Does he literally spend no time with his woman? And why put so much effort in when it’s clearly never going to get anywhere??
In situations like this, I would never say that she is in the wrong for replying to his messages or even for flirting with him. At the end of the day, he is the one who has chosen to be commited to somebody else, whether or not he keeps his word on that is not my wife’s problem.
Having never been cheated on, I don’t know the feeling of having somebody go behind your back. And because of this I find it unreasonable for the women in this situation to hate the women their men are cheating with. The men were the one’s who promised to be faithful… But to us, all’s fair in love and war.
I’ve had a couple of ‘Takens’ on the cards since the Break Up. But the point is, that these men are a lot more attractive to us because the likelihood of having to actually do anything we say to them is very small. Still, it makes me wonder why they bother doing it in the first place. And should we feel bad for playing along with them even though they have another woman on the sideline?
Dan started talking to me on Facebook a couple of months ago. We casually chatted about how we would make a bang-bus movie together (direct, not star in), the size of our porn collections, and the like. He had introduced me to his missus once when we were out about a year ago, and I knew (from what he’d told me) that they were living together and had been together a few years… The Facebook chatting turned into texting. He’d text me when he was at work (obviously when she wasn’t anywhere near) discussing what outfit I was wearing and whether or not i was bending over a desk. He started to tell me how much he liked me… Instant bad sign. I told him I liked him too but that this was just fun, he had a girlfriend who he was happy with, and there was no point in ruining that. I didn’t want to go out with him, it was all just a bit of fun. The texts became more frequent during the evenings and weekends, until one night he rang me up saying she’d been through his phone and that he was really in the shit. I had no sympathy. Like I said, if they chose to break their word, that’s their business. If it wouldn’t have been me, it would have been somebody else.
But is the thrill of the chase actually more exciting than the catch? And not just for lads, for girls too…
There’s a lad who I’m currently half-bedding. Meaning, the opportunity is there, I’ve just not decided whether or not I want to take it. I completely made all the effort to begin with. He’s younger than me, and one of Emma’s mates so it wasn’t instantly set up to be a pull. After I had put forward my flirty efforts with military precision, I have truly bagged him, but now he want’s it, I’ve gone off the idea. I’m such a lad.
End of.
Drinking commenced at 5pm on Friday. I started strong and was getting through them quickly, and was soon on my way to becoming the biggest disgrace I had been in a long time. Happy days. Starting on double Malibu and coke’s, I moved to red wine and coke for the meal, had a few shots throughout the night, and I finished on vodka. (The ‘Company Credit Card’ paid for the majority of the drinks so I had a race against myself to see who could drink the most).
It was actually really nice getting to know the girls from the office – and by getting to know I mean drinking copious amounts of alcohol with a talking shit to each other about work and men… I kept my distance from GL for most of the evening, I had already said to myself that it wasn’t my aim to follow him around all night, and in hindsight I’m so glad I didn’t. His time was mainly consumed with buying shit-loads of champagne for some random girl from accounts, and going off to the toilet every 5 minutes to do Coke. I had a few interactions with him throughout the night. The first was when I took a cigarette out of his pocket without asking (because I had run out). He didn’t seem to mind me furtiling around in his front pocket too much to be fair… A while later he asked if me and him could go for a chat, I said “What? Now?” as I had just got myself a drink. He turned around and looked at the accounts bird, then looked back at me, “Give me half an hour?” I walked off… Then an hour or so after that he came upto me and asked if I was “ready for off then”. I told him that I hadn’t spoken to him all night – so no. The accounts girl knocked him back that night too, so he went off to Manchester on his own at about 2am to wank himself to sleep no doubt, or pay someone else to do it for him.
As my night became blurrier and we moved from place to place, I tried to shimmy up a lamp-post, did the splits on top of an umbrella which was in the middle of the dance floor in Barracuda (don’t ask), took photos of one of my work colleague pretending to bumfuck another colleague who was being sick by a pillar outside The Bar, and had several in depth chats with my boss – some of which I can never repeat again, and which has made the office uber-weird to work in now… I met a girl called Jen who was mates with one of the girls from work. She loved dancing with a dirty face on all the time and loved swooshing her dress up and showing her arse every time she span around. I knew who my dancing partner was instantly! At least two hours of my evening were consumed with having filth off’s with her on the dance floor, and with us escorting each other to the toilets so we could snort her Coke using my house key. What is it they say?… If you can’t beat them, join them. Well, I joined.
In a blurry haze I wandered outside and scabbed a fag off a lovely looking boy called Benjamin. He was off to Brazil the next morning to travel for a year – haha. Would you believe it?? Another one!… Don’t even get me bloody started. I gave him a little smooch as a thank you for the cig, arranged to meet him in J2 later, and stumbled back in side the bar. I didn’t meet him… When you have to have a word with yourself in a toilet cubicle, you know you’ve had more than enough. I got a taxi home, and am very proud to say that it was the only thing I paid for that night.
Obviously not feeling as if I had completely embarrassed myself, I text Corbett and asked if I could stop at his. I’d been texting him throughout the night anyway, with him telling me to “Stay away from the sleaze”, and I wasn’t meant to be stopping at home that night, so it seemed like a brilliant idea… He didn’t reply. With my plans of drunken harassment foiled, I went home, got undressed and got into bed only to receive a phone call off Corbett telling me he’d only just got my messages and that I could go to his if I wanted to. After quickly considering turning up to his in nothing but a flasher mac and some stockings and heels, I quickly decided it was not the best idea. We chatted for an hour about our nights (which I don’t really remember at all), and I’m pretty sure I fell asleep while he was talking to me at some point too.
The next morning, I had to get booked in to see the doctor because my throat felt like it was closing up completely. I just thought I was coming down and had a hangover… Apparently I have a “quite severe” throat and ear infection, and am currently on high dosage anti-biotics for the week. Hahaha. Love it.
Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?
After a very recent argument with the wife, and after recieving a similar themed comment on one of my blogs (Car Parks), the weekend had me in a rather reflective mood. Although my shenanigans whilst out on Friday and Saturday continued as normal, looking back at my past, present and future, I can’t help but ponder over their justifications for saying the things they have to/about me.
A long time ago, when I didn’t have the balls to end a relationship which was rutted and doomed, I developed a sort of defense mechanism to protect myself against it. At the start of the relationship I was young, immature and obsessed. I would have done anything he asked and I honestly thought I was in love with him. He controlled every aspect of my life, my friends, family, work… This was all up until the night where he thought he was within his right to slap me round the face because I’d suggested going out with my mates… My priorities moved quickly from pleasing him to pleasing myself, and nobody else. The defense mechanism I used was one where I lied to him and cheated on him. I kissed other lads on nights out, or I’d tell him I was at home or at school when I was round at someone else’s house. Sex wasn’t a massive part of it, although it was present. It was more about the deceit for me, and I got a kick out of doing something I knew he would hate.
At that time, I never got any other gratification from it all apart from the spite factor. I never came out of it feeling better about myself, I was always depressed. I never felt wanted and I never felt like I was liked by any of the lads I got off with. I ‘used’ them to make a point, although in the end it was me who was being used, I’m well aware of that now. It was because I played it wrong. With the hidden agenda came an over-emotional attachment, so I never had the upper hand. Living and learning has got me through a lot in life. I wasn’t particularly naive back then, but I am definitely a lot more ‘street smart’ and a lot wiser to men and their tricks now-a-days.
To quote : “This guy isn’t only a weirdo, it sounds like he is using you, possibly because you let him (but why? low self esteem? maybe for some kind of bizarre experiment?)”…
Reaction : My blogs may come across as if I’m looking for love, and being knocked back every step along the way, but the truth is actually quite the opposite. I have just been in a relationship for 4 years, which I ended, and before that, I was in one for 2. At the moment, I have no interest in having anything more than something casual. That doesn’t mean I’m having a flurry of one night stands, that means I meet up with them as and when WE both want to and I make sure nothing too serious comes of it. I pursue them as much as they pursue me. And I only feel the need to blog the occasional weirdo or confusing situation… This whole blogging idea would be dull if it documented my ‘nice’ and ‘pleasant’ dates. Zzzzzzz.
To clarify, I really do not have low self esteem. Sometimes I may drop my standards, but that’s because that’s what I want to do. Not because there’s nothing better for me. I know I’m hot. I know I could probably get myself a nice boyfriend who’d be really nice to me, treat me well and wants to settle down, but I just got rid of one of them, and the reason for that was because I wasn’t ready to settle down. As much as it hurt him, I obviously needed to get all this out of my system in one way or another.
To quote : “Have you thought about just kind of fasting from men for 3 months? did me the world of good.”
Response : Each to their own… and no disrespect… But I’m good ta.
This behavior may be another defense mechanism for me, but I’m really happy at the moment. I love the attention. I don’t feel used and I don’t feel like I’m yearning for more from any of them. If they don’t like me, I don’t care… There’s plenty more fish in the sea. If they don’t want to see me, that’s fine… If I don’t keep in touch with them, that’s fine. Some things work out, some don’t… The day I start feeling sad, or like I’m not quite getting what I want out of this arrangement, will be the day I stop.
Until then… Viva la Randoms. Xx
My Wife.
Emma started classes at my studio on the 1st of April 2008. We were ‘married’ by the 14th of June. What started off as a simple way of ending a limp and lifeless relationship of hers via Facebook, has since blossomed into a beautiful relationship of our own.
She knows pretty much everything there is to know about me now. And I am pretty sure I know everything there is to know about her too. When we first met, we were two completely different people, like chalk and cheese. However, sharing a love for drinking and dancing, an instant bond was made! And after spending far too much time together for it to be socially acceptable, we quickly found that we had “different personalities, but similar performance style”.
Although a year really doesn’t seem like a long time, we have been through an awful lot during that time. Some of which doesn’t even deserve to be written on here, and certainly never will be. But we both know… And much like I do for her, for every time she’s stood by me, she means that little bit more to me. If that’s even possible.
The Wife knew me with ‘him’ and now knows me without. Since the Break Up, I can quite happily admit that I have thought about myself pretty much all the time. Making sure my free time is occupied with someone’s texts, Facebook message, or going out and getting drunk regardless of people’s feeling about the things I do and say to them while intoxicated. Being a selfish and self-centred bitch, although it does have its up-side, will only inevitably lead to one thing, and I would never want that to happen. Time with my Wife, even though it’s not sexual (well… not really…), is much preferred over time with a man/boy for me.
Some people don’t understand us. Don’t see how we’re not lesbians or at the very least both clinically insane! But we let them think what they want… Our time since we met has been filled with so many nights out that I can’t even count them, a lorry load of fake tan, a complete overload of sleepovers, a million and a half books, and
a full catalogue of spooning techniques. We’ve watched at least 100 films, drank 1000 drinks, double-pulled 3 boys, and booked a Mexican Mayhem Tour. And if i had to go back… I’d do it all again, and I wouldn’t do it any differently.
Prepare for a true gay-fest
statement now, but… Even though I’m changing a lot, which will hopefully eventually be for the better and not end up with me being pregnant and disease ridden by 24, I know that we’ll still be Wifeys in the years to come. A truly unbreakable friendship. No matter what shit life puts us through.
Wife…. I cannot wait to see your Otter. Oh and Wife… Nice tits.
xXx
Dunny
Mr Mark James Dunn is probably one of my oldest and my best (male) friend in the entire world. You know one of those people who you can totally be yourself around, hang around with when you look like shit and not really care, and feel completely comfortable sharing every intimate detail of you life with… Well thats Dunny, for me.
I met him when I was 15. We took the occasional GCSE class together and soon found that we had a shared love for taking the piss out of teachers and doing very little work. The bond was instant, and although we didn’t immediately spend all our time together, our friendship seemed to blossom fully after I came back from Uni a few years later.
Since then we’ve always shared our ups and downs, I’ve been there for the ‘Invincible’ Mark Dunn when he’s needed to vent, or needed an impartial and sensible word or two. One thing we could always do was be honest with eachother. No need to butter up the truth etc, just brutal honest opinion… And he was a rock to me when i split up with ‘him’. Dunny gave me the best advice, and although everyone else around me was probably saying the same thing as he was, his words were always the ones that stuck with me.
Today he compared himself to a car, and me to the exhaust. I’m the thing that all the shit comes out of to keep the car running properly. I love him very much. And I hope he stays my Brother forever.
