Wednesday, 9 September 2009


Right, let’s just get one thing straight…. I am not a Tease!

I don’t know which dull witted Neanderthal of a man decided that if a girl will kiss you and not sleep with you it makes her a Tease, but if I ever get a hold of him I will beat him with a blunt object.


Let me just bring to your attention a very old, and very common, injustice. Women who fool around are sluts, men who fool around are players. It isn’t fair and it isn’t strictly correct but the one thing that most women are aware of when it comes to men is how they are perceived. The last thing we want to be thought of is ‘that tart from down the road’.

‘Hey Bill! I heard you had it away with that Cindy from Windmill Street?’
‘Sure did, Bob. The only thing that spreads quicker than Cindy’s legs is my utterly butterly!’

So excuse me if I don’t sleep with you just because you have bought me a warm glass of chardonnay! If I like you, I'm gonna kiss you if you make your move, but don’t expect me to run back to yours and jump between the sheets just because you took me for a drink. (Especially when you are thirty and still live with you mother.)

Since when did a kiss mean intercourse anyway? I remember when everything was done in stages. You let the boy get to one stage, then the next, then the next. If he wanted the goods he would have to be patient and persistent. The PP for the Peepee. Now I am all grown up and men seem to want to skip stage three and four and go straight for the end game. Whatever happened to courting? Romance?! The third date rule?! Actually scratch the third date rule, if the three dates are during a six month period it doesn’t count, he hasn’t proved himself trustworthy or dependable. He hasn’t proved that he isn’t gonna bugger off and not call once he has inked his nib basically.

Well if kissing a guy but not sleeping with him because I don’t trust him yet makes me a Tease, then Miss Tease I am. I would rather be the village Tease than the village bike.

Wednesday, 2 September 2009


Just a quick note about something that happened while I was away.

I was at a BBQ happliy sipping a beer and marvelling at the fact that although I had drunk four or five bottles of beer I was sober, if I had done that with glasses of wine I would be halfway to table dancing by then. I think the key was I don't really like the stuff so I tend to nurse them a little, averaging about a bottle per hour. Needless to say later on that evening, when I switched to wine, I became drunker than a fish in a whisky pond.

So, I was there quitely musing at this realisation when my Brother asked if I was bored, I told him that I wasn't and was quite enjoying the comapny of my little brother (I was, I don't see him very often). He rolled his eyes at me.

I then proceeded to tell him about my surprising soberness, to which he replied 'Your not sober.' I insisted I was but he just shook his head at me like he was correcting a child, or (as he thought he was) talking to a inebriated person.

Realising there was no convicing him I inquired as to the source of this observation, to which he replied 'Your getting all emotional.'

Because I said I was enjoying speding time with him.


Wait till he sees me later drunk and crying because I've dropped my crisps...