Posted 7 Apr
I do think that women who grew up in the 80's must've been a bit disappointed when it came to their first blow job. We've been brought up on Rice Krispies and Space Dust and quite frankly we expected a bit more from putting something in our mouths. They rarely snapped and never crackled or popped – quite frankly I felt a bit ripped off. If I'm going to put something in my mouth, it might as well do some sort of trick whilst its in there or at least attempt an impression of a sherbet dip dab.
*There's going to be some very disappointed punters who came looking for a sex blog - sorry but the jim jams posts are just as interesting, honest!
31 May 2007
Posted 7 Apr
30 May 2007
Ok so even though I'm decamped in myspaz, I thought I'd double post some of the witterings in case any of you are missing me...btw I am still reading all the blogs I'm subscribed too but just don't have the time to comment, so please don't think I'm ignoring you my little darlins..I love you all still, muchly.
Anyway so updates coming in the order I posted them on spazzer (apologies to any subscribers but there's going to be shedloads over the next few days...)
Posted 1 Apr
Why do barmen insist on showing you their arses when they're coming over to clear glasses? They make this big show of doing a 360 degree spin as they nonchalantly sashay over and then go, 'oh I must've forgotten something on that table there, let me just do a slow spin round to retrieve it'. Then when they finally walk away they hold the pint glasses just at the right height behind them so the glasses are magnifying their arses to perfection.
Fair enough for the gay ones, but what on earth do the straight ones think they're doing?
Women really aren't interested in arses. The only interest we have in them is asking guys if ours are too big.
It doesn't matter how you respond to this question, face it guys you are ALWAYS going to be wrong. Even a sincere and heartfelt 'but your arse is so tiny in those very flattering 80's style ski pants' will be met with a snort of disbelief and then you'll be spending the rest of the afternoon as chief handbag carrier as we deliberately spend an eon in the changing room having first spotted half of your rugby club heading towards you.
The only way to get out of that question hell is to try and deflect it by doing something completely spontaneous and uncharacteristic. Like taking us out to dinner, listening to an entire conversation or learning the location of the clitoris.
Excreted by Jools at 8:31 pm