tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40027521523336756072024-03-14T16:14:17.448+00:00My Mother's ChildMiss Definitely Maybehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02812755876909158625noreply@blogger.comBlogger50125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002752152333675607.post-57894732776198533302009-11-27T13:07:00.001+00:002009-11-27T13:07:06.347+00:00The Best Porn is live Porn........<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBnWUjRHD37kDGvE9SvfihLTF995r42jSBQbTVUfSk7knB5ObVYlj6eSfNwH2iQ9_3y5RDMoixdQAEe7aca47VE8nFUiWbfDKcLUWviaKQ-T5STlCvggKFr8UqrLHIuy4XWglGPpw3H2k/s1600/peep.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407790269831226642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 303px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBnWUjRHD37kDGvE9SvfihLTF995r42jSBQbTVUfSk7knB5ObVYlj6eSfNwH2iQ9_3y5RDMoixdQAEe7aca47VE8nFUiWbfDKcLUWviaKQ-T5STlCvggKFr8UqrLHIuy4XWglGPpw3H2k/s320/peep.jpg" border="0" /></a>*long post alert* Me and Erica are no longer friends, In fact to be grammatically precise Erica and I are no longer friends and if you ask me it was completely her fault lol. It was a very good idea at first, as good as any idea formulated after 4 bottles of wine and several vodka shots can be. It was very generous of me as her best friend to offer practical support, for what good is emotional support in a financial crisis, being there for someone doesnt pay the rent? Well it was a different sort of practical support, actually it was medical support slash free porn slash whatever. As you all know I have done quite a lot of idiotic stuff in the past if this post <a href="http://my-mothers-child.blogspot.com/2009/01/lights-camera-penis-idiots.html">http://my-mothers-child.blogspot.com/2009/01/lights-camera-penis-idiots.html</a> is anything to go by and this is one of those incidents i like to pretend never happened lol.<br /><br />I remember the day so well, Erica and I were having a serious heart to heart (bad mistake since we were already under the influence of 36 units of alcohol between us which. It was her fault for starting the conversation. She said her new boyfriend makes freakish downright strange noises during sex which sound alien and totally freaked her out. I asked her what she meant and she tried to imitate them but she has always been a bad actress. So being under the influence of 36 units of alcohol she said 'wait a minute I have a brilliant idea, next time we are at it why don't you come and watch?' Not being sure what she meant I asked how this supposedly brilliant idea might be accomplished. Well she said, you know how i like having sex in the dark? I replied 'ah-ah' 'Well' she went on 'let me call him to come over and I will leave the door slightly open and you can listen in and give your honest opinion' I nodded eagerly too drunk for words at this point to use common sense. The more bizarre the idea got the more interested I became. I mean I'm not a pervert or a freak or a sexual deviant, I was really really really really concerned about my best friends sexual well being, if she thought she was 'doing' an undercover alien, it was my job as the supposed best friend to allay her fears or confirm them..right???? after all friends are supposed to be there for each other in sickness and alien sex....right??? (y'all know I'm right).<br /><br />One hour later he was on his way to her place, she made me creep into the dark wardrobe leaving the door slightly ajar so that i couldn't miss any of the star wars sound effects lol. I think i waited an uncomfortable hour or two for the show to begin, wedged between winter coats that had seen better days and enough smelly shoes to open an up market charity shop, it was the most uncomfortable squatting position ever (it beat squatting in a pit latrine in the village during one of those parent enforced trips where you were forced to go to the village and play the dutiful town grand daughter once a year during a public holiday lol) but what can i say I'm a good and loyal friend lol so i dutifully sat in the wardrobe numb with cramp in my left leg, fervently praying that after this ordeal was over my leg wouldn't have to be amputated due to circulation cut off. fast forward 10 mins later.She over performed coz she knew I was there, he in turn under performed because he didn't know they had an audience. From the thumps,bumps and window rattling moves coming from the bed i knew i was in for a show to rival any porn version of the Oscar winning musical Chicago.<br /><br />Twenty seconds later the noises began, ssiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii tiiiiiiiiiii eeeeeeeeee eeeh eeeh eeeh mayweeeeeeeeee mayweeeeeeeeeee yuwiiiiiiiiiiiiii yuwiiiiiiiiiii, siiiiiiiiiiiiii I thought WTF is that a mobile phone ringtone? Then I realised hell no the sounds were coming from the bed, maybe the dude was trying to recite the alphabet, fcuk this was worse than a star wars sound track, the kind of moise that would make you run for you life if you were walking past a cemetery in the middle of the night (serves you right though if you actually walk past a cemetery in the middle of the night lol). Seriously fro the eh eh eh's emanating from the bed at one point i thought Erica with her 18 stone body frame was trying to send the dude to an early death, he sounded like he was gasping for air, choking in pain not in pleasure, before I could put on my spider woman cloak and attempt a rescue op from the wardrobe lol a muted 'dont stop' re-assured me that he delighted in that sort of thing (what ever it is she was doing lol). After a few more yuwiiiiiiii's and eeehhhhhhs and the final curtain call I realised I had a new dilemma....... how the fcuk was i going to exit the wardrobe if he was planning to stay the night?<br /><br />My supposedly best friend had forgotten all about me getting increasingly uncomfortable in the damn wardrobe, i realised that the trip to the ER to get my leg amputated was fast becoming a reality. I tried to shift and change position but that's quite hard to do when you are sharing closet space with smelly shoes, a dozen coats and several boxes of God knows what. It didn't help that the alcohol was wearing off and i really felt like i wanted to be sick. I debated what was worse vomiting in her 20 odd pairs of smelly designer shoes or making an exit from my hiding space and having to do a lot of explaining. I didnt have to wonder for long, that decision was completely taken away from me. I'm not sure what exactly took place, if I was still friends with Erica perhaps she would have clarified the correct version of events. I remember something brushing against my neck, it might have been a coat belt,or a spider or one of the numerous scarfs in that wardrobe, but my intoxicated mind immediately thought black widow spider and i let out a blood curdling scream and tumbled out of the wardrobe.I think I heard someone from the bed shouting ' who the fuck is that but i couldn't be sure. All i knew was a spider was trying to eat me alive and i had to get out of there pronto plus i didnt want to wait around to make any explanation to Mr alien sounds, how could i even begin to explain? so i bolted and i left Erica to sing a few notes of Usher's 'this is my confession. ' on our behalf.<br /><br />what happened after that I never really found out,like i said Erica and I are no longer friends. She called me a couple of nights after that begging that i call her boyfriend (who she was now referring to as the love of her life man of her dreams slash soul mate, the girl had amnesia it was less than 72 hours ago when he had been Mr alien sounding dude from star wars and she was getting ready to dump him but like i said the girl had amnesia.) anyway she demanded that a)I call her boyfriend and b) state that it was all my fault i had planned the whole thing and c)that she didnt know i had been holed up in the wardrobe. Now i can and WILL do a lot of sh*t for a friend, lend a 100 quid here and there, babysit you when you are sick etc but I'm not one to take a bullet for someone else, I flatly refused reminding her that a) it had not been all my fault and b) I had not planned it and c) she damn well knew i had been holed up in that closet. Erica hurled a lot of abuse and i hurled my own abuse. when the phone was slammed down it was then i knew that Erica and I were no longer friends. Its been 8 years now and I have done a lot of growing up since then but I wonder sometimes what happened to them or more importantly what happened to her for we went back a long way almost sisters, I live in constant fear of mama finding out the real reason we are no longer friends, I guess the worst porn is live porn if you are hiding in someones closet to watch it.Miss Definitely Maybehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02812755876909158625noreply@blogger.com158tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002752152333675607.post-11503811972498211212009-10-27T00:35:00.004+00:002009-10-27T00:43:27.149+00:00I really really R.E.A.L.L.Y love my Mama (honestly)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFQUvtTu5zrKE2pjLBDssmOtjOyR1brsENkX6OHp97lj2Kmk8fLm-Bi5EJegQSaR_Z8w7cS6sjNkW-zg7c_yd-hoJuyvmvRCwWd06ef77TYHXTUswfbVko0_6bjlZmWMoOtESuI6joVZw/s1600-h/dpan552l.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397068699401742290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 278px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFQUvtTu5zrKE2pjLBDssmOtjOyR1brsENkX6OHp97lj2Kmk8fLm-Bi5EJegQSaR_Z8w7cS6sjNkW-zg7c_yd-hoJuyvmvRCwWd06ef77TYHXTUswfbVko0_6bjlZmWMoOtESuI6joVZw/s320/dpan552l.jpg" border="0" /></a>I know I haven't been here in a while I blame google for making me choose a password I completely forgot and I blame my mama too. Speaking of which.....If you were to ask me how I feel about my mama, I would probably rattle off the politically correct answer “shes my best friend”, “on her i can depend always”, “the one I trust”, I would die for her blah blah blah and if I'm really and truly under the influence (we talking 40% alcohol here not ‘no added sugar’ pineapple cordial lol) I might add that vomit inducing quote............ “if i could change a thing about you mama I wouldnt’t change a single thing blah blah blah ”. you get the drift right? All lies i tell you, First of all if you are new to my blog, before you get all judgemental up in here, let me break a few things down to you about mama. She is NOT my best friend, in fact she is not my friend period! She is just mama, not a pal, not a mate not a bff but just mama. Before you get judgemental (again)the feeling is absolutely mutual, she often screams (and this is a direct quote minus the loud booming voice) “Ms DM don't play with me I'm not your friend ooh, play with someone your age, or else i will tattoo that behind ooh” (see it doesn't get more mutual than this lol.)<br /><br />As for not changing a thing, boy who am i kidding. Trust me if I had the chance I would (for those living in the UK) property-ladder, grand design, home improve ( or whatever makeover programme is out there) tweak my mama. Gone will be the Shambock wielding woman who dances dangerously close to a culpable homicide charge when she tries to put you on the straight and narrow. Trust me when mama is done with you you will be more bent and crooked than the time she began working on your ass.........my mother literally loves me with a vengeance lol. My relationship with mama is like travelling on a budget no frills airline. It generally does what it is supposed to do but once in a while it surprises you with a whole lot of nasty shocks, like £20 for airport check in, £10 per bag for hold luggage, and another £5 for paying by credit/debit card. Mama is sneaky like that, you constantly feel like you’ve been punked ......at least with easy-jet/ bmi/ryanair its all in the small print, with mama she makes the rules as she goes on like a typical African dictator, nah forget it there is nothing remotely typical about my mama lol.<br /><br />As for dying for mama, if truth be told that's definitely a moot point. If a gun tooting yob was pointing his weapon of mass destruction (a gun people lol) at me and mama and says ‘hey you two decide who we kiss es-ta lavista baby to’ I'm not sure that like a loyal and loving daughter i would necessarily volunteer my self for this virtuous deed. Call me Judas Iscariot or morbid but seriously speaking wouldn't it make more sense morally and all for mama to be the sacrificial lamb? I mean shes been there done that and wore the t-shirt until it turned from white to grey with age lol, shes had the husband, the jet setting lifestyle, the six figure salary and 4 children who haven't turned out half bad (yes me included lol). It would be quite selfish I would think if she refused to be the Isaac to my Abraham ( any non Christians see me).<br /><br />Speaking of “the one i would trust/ depend on” it would only be in a life or death situation like plucking me from a burning house, or dragging me from under a bus for anything else hmmmm she would totally betray me even without the prospect of financial gain Ala Judas Iscariot. My mother would be the first to ask the head to expel you from school for indecent exposure(never mind that the ‘indecent exposure’ consisted of letting your first junior high school boyfriend have a peak at your budding nipple-less mini boobs during PE lol (no that wasn't me thankfully it was my sister from the same mama and if you are in doubt check her behind for the evidence.......its called death by shambock lol).I wont pretend (like many of you do lol) that I'm best friends with mama. Rue my real best friend who is no relation what so ever to mama is the one I tell all about my secret fantasy about Dr Black our family GP who at 49 is nearly twice my age, the one I disclose the drunken snog with a random stranger, the one i give a no holds barred account of my lucky escape from a potential 3 someone after a game of truth or dare, Rue the one best friend is the only one I would be brave enough to tell about my hot secret date with my mama’s personal assistant. See telling a real best friend like Rue has no repercussions, she would probably hoot with laughter and trade my stories with her own kinky, dirty, often slutty ones which border on illegal lol . Now that's a true best female friend. Now my mama who is NOT my best friend would literally castrate me if i tried to confess to such sh*t (Thank God shes not my best friend and I don't have a d**k lol). But she would definitely hurl me in front of the local priest so that he could baptise such demonic behaviour out of me......I ain't no psychologist but clearly this is not Best Friend behaviour lol.<br /><br />Disclaimer (Just in case mama is lurking somewhere in Blogsphere lol). Now Mama you know better than to believe everything you read especially from an amateur blog which fewer than 5 people ever read . You know you and I are much closer than the 3000miles currently between us. I love you mama and that's not only on mothers day. I really really really really really really really R.E.A.L.L.Y do, so don't you dare let anyway slash any blog (this one included ) convince you otherwise lol. Its been too long Blogsvile I,ve missed you all.Miss Definitely Maybehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02812755876909158625noreply@blogger.com29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002752152333675607.post-31412510809458539072009-08-18T01:06:00.004+01:002009-08-18T01:12:28.540+01:00How to Ruin a Good Vacation .............<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHeZ13ykJUk-k8_Ruf74xeWEFUbja1zia90vGTQF9a0I3SieMsN0Y5O6KxCxMKuyDHKHAvFMGJpqJfhj7K5w2JRQ4b7fGZq3-mDHGpuFcQHtWshK7zRabduTQAy-pvwTBdRueno5vbmWQ/s1600-h/iz138025.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371080476901207298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 265px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHeZ13ykJUk-k8_Ruf74xeWEFUbja1zia90vGTQF9a0I3SieMsN0Y5O6KxCxMKuyDHKHAvFMGJpqJfhj7K5w2JRQ4b7fGZq3-mDHGpuFcQHtWshK7zRabduTQAy-pvwTBdRueno5vbmWQ/s320/iz138025.jpg" border="0" /></a> .........Vacation with my mother!!! There I said it and I'm not taking it back. (unless my mama reads this statement,then this blog will have to come down with the speed of light. I might be an independent strong black blah blah blah woman but my mama is even stronger and even at twenty seven I still meet the criteria for being walloped to death lol). Okay so I'm back, scarred, bruised and heavily traumatised but back all the same. Who wouldn't be(scarred,bruised and heavily traumatised)after spending four weeks in the captivity of my mother? (disclaimer: this statement might have to be deleted at the speed of light lol)Seriously my mother has the energy, the intelligence and superhuman five senses that are sharp enough to sap the joy out of any good vacation. By 'joy' I mean men,nightlife and more men.<br /><br />But having said that I had an amazing holiday. So much to tell and so very little time, but if one word sums up my SA holiday it would be <strong>SEX</strong> or <strong>lack of it </strong>but wait <em>'lack of it' </em>is actually 3 words so SEX it is. Not that I'm confessing to having had any, how could I? My mother not only preaches abstinence but she damn well insures it is practiced with the ruthlessness of an African dictator. My mother is up there with the Hitchcock's or Mafia of the abstinence world. I swear she can detect the tiniest threat of sexual activity before you can even say the words bum skimming shorts or micro mini. Which is a shame, there is no point to having sexy legs if you cant put said sexy legs on display. My mother hypocritically states that thighs should be reserved for the eyes of a husband, but with the same mouth she tells my sister 'what kind of married woman wears such a thing' (thing in this instance standing for very tight micro shorts which ironically she was wearing for a night out with her husband at some random beach party. Clearly there is no pleasing some people ('some people' here completely refers to my mother lol).<br /><br />Speaking of husbands, my mother hijacked my brand new sinfully expensive (according to my ever expanding overdraft lol) Christian Lacroix nightie (if you could call the flimsy material that). She claims I don't need any sexy nightwear, I don't have a husband. (*deep sigh* 'mum I do have sex you know', ) (Disclaimer: I did not say this out loud to my mothers face, I'm still young, I do not want to die, in fact I would rather let you cut me up into a million pieces or skin me to death than die at the hands of my mother). Apparently I'm not deserving of any sexy lingerie but she is, she did not have the decency to refund me my money, I did not have the suicidal nerve to ask for it. I refuse to imagine what she possibly got up to, or is getting up to in it. I do not want to be permanently emotionally scarred, but i am boycotting Christian L for life, I could never wear it again without having mental images I don't want to ever have, so future potential boyfriends please take notes.<br /><br />Its a truth universally acknowledged that the sole purpose of going on a foreign holiday is to have sex with a foreign man (or depending on how adventurous you feeling, have sex with foreign men plural) . A safari or two might also be on the agenda, you might be suicidal enough to try bungee jumping or sky diving but ultimately nothing beats having sex with said foreign man. Okay i made that up, but whats the point of going on holiday if sex is not on your 'To do List' ? Speaking of sex, i dont normally kiss and tell but the most important lesson i learnt whilst in Mzansi (SA) was that if you intend on having 'sex on the beach' for maximum comfort buy a beach house, or more practicably have sex with a rich foreign man who already owns a beach house unless you want to spend the rest of your holiday removing sand from your down belows lol.<br /><br />So I'm not sure if I managed to meet Buttercup(big sigh). I met a street hawker called Mercy (originally from Zimbabwe,but not a relation or acquaintance of Shona's lol) selling vhuka vhuka which she informed me is some kind of p*nis enlargement herbal sh*t, but she denied being responsible for those thoroughly annoying spam emails that fill up my junk folder stating <em>'Dear Miss DM would you like to enlarge your penis blah blah blah...'</em> Coincidentally I also met a street hooker called Obianujuaku (yes I did ask her to write down the spelling). Apparently her name means 'born to plenty' or 'born to a rich family'. (obviously not that rich if she is plying her feminine wares in the dark alleys of Cape Town). Speaking of Obi I've just has a thought...buttercup I hope that wasn't you lol.<br /><br />Speaking of hookers I also met a money guzzling, fame hungry,man eating gold digga who was heavily disguised as my brother's girlfriend (lol my mother's words not mine). She loves my mother with the passion of a girl who fears she might be left off the shelf and knows that the way to my brothers heart is through my mother and of course his wallet. My mother in turn treats her with so much contempt, I cant remember my mother disliking anyone so intensely or with so much passion....actually I do, my brother's previously girlfriend who foolishly informed my mother she was 'a non believer'. My mother was incredulous I think little miss non believer holds the Guinness world book record for being thrown out of a house at the speed of lightning.<br /><br />I've been blubbering non stop, you see I missed you guys,its certainly good to be back to civilisation (by civilisation I mean any place away from my mother lol....you know I love you mama.)Miss Definitely Maybehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02812755876909158625noreply@blogger.com49tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002752152333675607.post-31903159877043525722009-05-15T12:24:00.005+01:002009-05-16T12:33:02.997+01:00The Cow jumped over the moon.............<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZdczW3AcBMQCn4itQdVOggL-H39JXTDWvCzG10xbbZQVd_9kil_sJKVD9lCzloIucQk92bmLqcGIq7ciqDP8XdJh37HIept3C8DdQhOyIv_KOfZQgvCU6LJuWAZtYJtwV0Byfom7MC5c/s1600-h/CowJumpsOverMoon.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335452209562116978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 260px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZdczW3AcBMQCn4itQdVOggL-H39JXTDWvCzG10xbbZQVd_9kil_sJKVD9lCzloIucQk92bmLqcGIq7ciqDP8XdJh37HIept3C8DdQhOyIv_KOfZQgvCU6LJuWAZtYJtwV0Byfom7MC5c/s320/CowJumpsOverMoon.gif" border="0" /></a><strong><span style="font-size:78%;">in the words of R Kelly.....</span></strong>
<br />
<br /><strong>My mind....my mind is telling me NO!!!!!!</strong>
<br /><div><div><strong>But my body..my Body is screaming yes yessss yesssssss yes oh yesssss!!!!!!!!</strong> </div><div>
<br /></div><div>So I'm off to the sunny sometimes cloudy skies of Cape Town and Joburg for a fortnight</div><div>to clear the cloudy seeds of doubt.</div><div>And when im back, maybe that cow would have jumped over the moon and became a dog, </div><div>but if it insists on being called a cow, you might as well line up with your buckets for free semi skimmed milk, coz we gonna milk this cow dry lol<span style="font-size:130%;">!!!!</span></div><div> </div><div><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></ <div><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong></strong></span></div>
<br /><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>Buttercup</strong> if you meet any drop dead gorgeous sexy intelligent, hot fabalous ******insert any other discription for a bombshell***** skinny bitch, ask for her autograph coz that could definitely be your very own Miss DM. lol</span></div></div>
<br />Miss Definitely Maybehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02812755876909158625noreply@blogger.com64tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002752152333675607.post-87809552566349221622009-04-30T23:36:00.006+01:002009-05-01T00:04:16.892+01:009 Days Celibate and still Counting.........<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_fyUOcbRzUsWl5si4rbURronDDOf34DxSDUTcj-NCZuzhS2HKk6o3KRjV1P4N6kP8YNu9wSvFC_WXzykLXjbY8YWJLGH8G1rlKI_dtq3VNGn3H1z0J6WxfAnRF8g_TFUjVmu-IARTP2Q/s1600-h/celibacy.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330618222614166546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 288px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 289px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_fyUOcbRzUsWl5si4rbURronDDOf34DxSDUTcj-NCZuzhS2HKk6o3KRjV1P4N6kP8YNu9wSvFC_WXzykLXjbY8YWJLGH8G1rlKI_dtq3VNGn3H1z0J6WxfAnRF8g_TFUjVmu-IARTP2Q/s320/celibacy.bmp" border="0" /></a> My celibacy count is back down to a mere 9 days. Don't even know if that still counts as being 'celibate' I miss being celibate (insert big sigh)I miss feeling so self righteous amongst my rampant friends like i belonged to some elite stuffy boring uppity club, wish I had made him just put the 'head' in lol so i could technically still be a celibate non condom buying so and so.<br /><br />Speaking of condoms God are they so dear.....hmmmmm there is something oddly unsettling about mentioning God and condoms in the same sentence, but seriously last time i bought condoms they cost 20 cents came in one shape, one colour and had the same latex taste lol. I bought my first condoms at 11.....from my brother aged 6 who had stolen them from my mother aged...... well dunno how old she was but my behind was certainly a few years older than me when she was done with it. She kept shouting 'show me where it goes!!!' whilst beating the living daylights out of me. I become permanently scarred, whenever I'm buying condoms my heart is always almost about to leap out of my chest, like she will suddenly leap out from the checkout counter shouting 'show me where it goes!!!' if you know my mama please advise her not to try it though coz i might just.......just...just be brave enough to lift up my skirts and defiantly shout, 'it goes in here mum, its definitely been in here!!!'.<br /><br />So me and him are having 'a thing'. I hate having 'a thing' with a dude. You know that indescribable confusing stage where you have moved past the point of being casual lays, (we speak on the phone all the time for hours on end, he is the only person I can bare my soul to, and he tells me he loves me and wants to be only with me ) but for reasons best known to myself I absolutely refuse to classify what we 'have' as a relationship so ' a thing' it is. 'Things ' are supposed to be less complicated, I used the word supposed coz they are in reality a whole lot complicated and messy. What is 'a thing?'. Does it give you a licence to diversify your man portfolio? legitimately I can always do another thingy on the side after all ' we are just having a thing' right? Is a relationship a relationship because you have that conversation where you agree to be exclusive and actually say yeah we are now in a relationship, or is it the case of if it looks like a dog, barks like a dog and lives in a Kennel then it is a dog even if it calls itself a cow? if I'm to keep my sanity 'we' can not be <del>in</del> a dog, I insist that what we have is a cow, a non milk producing, barking, kennel sleeping, dog look alike but I insist its a cow nonetheless.Miss Definitely Maybehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02812755876909158625noreply@blogger.com175tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002752152333675607.post-44253455712306022782009-04-12T22:02:00.010+01:002009-04-13T16:36:20.779+01:00Sexclaus is coming to town .............<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPtSuxF_8oPXT-eCpf0BYakGAnTTajzvP7tWWB0BKhmxf5jXJ8UTI0S1ozl5xsKsucFT2jyhsPS3-9otzMsYul-OvsfoGw0S3StxQ19Uzkdj6DZ5UM5c5Kz8oMvlJ5Yxj3FV76tpsh_Nk/s1600-h/BlackArt.jpg"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323913284421986722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 238px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPtSuxF_8oPXT-eCpf0BYakGAnTTajzvP7tWWB0BKhmxf5jXJ8UTI0S1ozl5xsKsucFT2jyhsPS3-9otzMsYul-OvsfoGw0S3StxQ19Uzkdj6DZ5UM5c5Kz8oMvlJ5Yxj3FV76tpsh_Nk/s320/BlackArt.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><strong>Just so you know</strong><br /><br />Sexclaus is coming to town<br /><br />and when he does,<br /><br />he is soooooooo going down my chimney<br /><br />not once, not thrice, but over and over again<br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">'Sexclaus'</span></strong><br /><strong></strong><br />lets do the maths........<br /><br />fcuking my brains out = Sex<br /><br />going down my 'chimney', deliverin' my goodies and making my christmas come early = Claus<br /><br /><p><strong>so <span style="font-size:130%;">Sexclaus</span></strong></p><p>Johhny Teabag upstairs aint got shit on you. </p><p>so bye bye Pink Rabbit</p><p><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>The End</strong></span> <span style="font-size:78%;"><strong>of 389 days of celibacy.</strong></span></p>Miss Definitely Maybehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02812755876909158625noreply@blogger.com43tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002752152333675607.post-33521600792702836482009-04-02T20:30:00.000+01:002009-04-02T20:30:17.875+01:00Who Ate All the weight loss Pills Pies .........<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjFPrXEoXIzJFRb_IEN03BAEtHrkyJnUa9zkiOJr4D72tS63jn5NfjjEGoZKb4BaEbLjQAdrXe7UNzrdwb253NiQsAJyJiZOElkjgIduvm5zp0uf5CAAwHLgPlIHwSPRqytMm27b1YNzo/s1600-h/scared-cat-cartoon-kitty-frightened-of-fat-lady-from-behind.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320157029235040338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 262px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjFPrXEoXIzJFRb_IEN03BAEtHrkyJnUa9zkiOJr4D72tS63jn5NfjjEGoZKb4BaEbLjQAdrXe7UNzrdwb253NiQsAJyJiZOElkjgIduvm5zp0uf5CAAwHLgPlIHwSPRqytMm27b1YNzo/s320/scared-cat-cartoon-kitty-frightened-of-fat-lady-from-behind.jpg" border="0" /></a> Siren blazing, lights flashing, travelling at an almost suicidal speed, the car swerved from lane to lane, onto on coming traffic, past red traffic lights, zig zagging into the bus lanes and down one way streets, you would be forgiven for mistaking this as a scene from the latest Bond/Bourne movie, but it wasn't, if it had been a movie scene it would have been aptly titled 'Ms DM's almost fatal attempt to be a size zero'.... and it was...almost fatal...when I was admitted into the emergency department temperature at 38, my circus qualifying abnormally big head almost twice its normal abnormal size, breathing through non invasive ventilation, my life, actually to be exact my last 397 sex free days flashed through my mind and I had only one regret on my death bed, 'I should have fc*ked Johnny from upstairs brains out when I had the chance.'<br /><br />At that very moment even though I felt I was dying, I would have given up the last three, four or seven hours I had left to live to have Johnny my tea bag borrowing upstairs neighbour appear in that A&E assessment ward and give me a mind blowing orgasmic send off into the 'other side'/ pearly gates. seriously as I lay nearly dying from dodgy weight loss pills bought off eBay all i could think about was 'God just one last chance to have sex' (in case you are wondering in my 26years I have already spent an average of 45 Sabbaths a year praying for my salvation so it would be have been only fair to spend the remaining few hours of my life focusing solely on sexual gratification lol).<br /><br />After being humiliated and cheated out of a chance to bag 'the most eligible, noodle serving, pot bellied, Bugatti driving, sugar daddy on the block' by the <a href="http://my-mothers-child.blogspot.com/2009/02/free-noodles-skinny-btches-money.html">Skinny-Bitch</a> I vowed to join the size zero skinny bitches brigade, come doughnuts, lattes, cheese laden pastas, rich chocolate desserts, hail or sunshine. First research pit stop was the gastric bypass, (feel free to judge me all the heck you want lol) I am one for efficiency (working in billable hours does that sort of thing to you) I figured one better way to propel myself to Bugatti sugar daddy snatching size zero than getting my intestines nipped and tucked in Harley street? Besides, the fact that it was only two days after payday meant that the bank manager would happily give me the green light. But i found out the hard way that <strike>forget the disabled, gender inequalities, ethnic minority racial discrimination,bias against lesbians/bisexuals etc </strike>the world totally discriminates against those of us unfortunate enough not to be too thin and not too curvy either. Apparently no self respecting intestine nipping and tucking surgeon will touch anyone with a body fat mass index of less than 22, their excuse being its dangerous à la Kanye West mum's style hence totally unethical.<br /><br />Undeterred I turned to the diet pills market, this was the point that the grim rippers clock must have started tick toking in my direction Final Destination style lol. In my defence the gym membership was not helping much, after religiously going to the gym four times a week and huffing and puffing nearly spitting my liver out on the treadmill, i was horrified to learn that i had gained 3lbs. the personal trainer had the nerve to try and spin a web of lies about muscle mass being heavier than fat blah dee blah n*gga purlizzzzzzzz that motivational sh*t don't wash on me, I mean its not as if I'm already spotting a six pack (yeah LLCoolJ always has me at Hello). Now my gym ought to be sued, whats with the sabotaging, situating the fitness suite right next to the drive through McDonald's and LaTasca(Italian restaurant), as I'm huffing and puffing on the treadmill the smell of freshly cooked pasta carbonara and big macs wafts through the room, plus you get discount vouchers for both restaurants as part of your gym membership WTF?????? You burn 400 calories on the treadmill and then afterwards pass through LaTasca and devour 1200 calories disguised as Pasta Carbonara (add 450 more calories if you have chocolate fudge cake as dessert), its a no brain-er so personal training so and so should cut the crap about muscle mass being heavier than fat, unless the other name for muscle mass is pasta carbonara lol.<br /><br />So you know who your true enemies are when you ask a 'friend' to recommend certain diet pills that can fast forward you to skinnybitchness and she directs you to an Internet site. She swore the sh*t came highly recommended, was 100% legit and even endorsed by celebrities (yeah should have asked which ones, OJ Simpson???). Son or rather more aptly daughter of a b*tch nearly sent me to an early grave, without giving me the opportunity to get my brains sh*gged senseless by tea bag borrowing Johnny from down the stairs. I parted with nearly £183 for the sh*t (hey in my defense I'm sure that when i had successfully bagged Bugatti Veyron sugar daddy he would have spent x1000 that amount on 'keeping me happy' lol). The sh*t (sorry there is no politer word to describe the death pills that nearly killed me) even came with a guarantee that if you didn't loose 7lbs in the first week you would get your money back (conveniently the corresponding address was a P. Box number, now don't quote me on this but i need to recheck <a href="http://www.verastic.com/">Vera's</a> P.O Box number, girl could be the one who tried to grim reaper my ass lol). To cut a long story short, I took the first three tablets and in less than two hours my head had swelled up to twice its normal size, my heart was beating off the Richter scale of heartbeats, my whole body had a sinister looking purplish rash and i was badly swollen as if i had been rihanned by a team of 12 Chris Browns, I couldn't breathe my airways were closing up, in short that sh*t was killing me, thus i found myself on the way to the emergency department in an ambulance, wishing to God I had shagged tea bag borrowing Johnny from upstairs when I had the chance.<br /><br />8 days later I'm now back home, recovering ( as if you could ever recover from such an ordeal) thanks <a href="http://gangstatigeress.blogspot.com/">Tigeress</a> for checking up on me whilst I was in hospital, as for the rest of you Judas Iscariot's who never checked up on me, I hope you choke on a batch of the diet sh*t that nearly killed me. Seriously never ever buy pills off the Internet, I learnt my lesson the death bed way.........but thanks to eight days of horrible hospital 'food' (slimy mashed potatoes and mince meat which had a suspicious sardine like odour) I'm now firmly on my way to earning my Skinny Bitch club platinum pass lol so forget sh*gging Johnny from upstairs coz Bugatti Driving, noodle serving, pot belled Sugar Daddy here I come!!!!!!.Miss Definitely Maybehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02812755876909158625noreply@blogger.com89tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002752152333675607.post-72140122526732581512009-03-19T00:16:00.006+00:002009-03-19T00:29:10.314+00:00'Wallop me Mama for I have sinned'......<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLWhkFW3E1MmJMVKNs0ualAX7cSgzCOF4G9BLDJKHfRN74oLC3vvWdz3wLZno7F94GxUUXfbDppKpmBtMrYH4tnoenBA37eBNvYTWRJ4fEGbg9ML3GvaMwDlXNeLbXMtPoJR9QsqNoTjs/s1600-h/beating.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314682705981362594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 239px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLWhkFW3E1MmJMVKNs0ualAX7cSgzCOF4G9BLDJKHfRN74oLC3vvWdz3wLZno7F94GxUUXfbDppKpmBtMrYH4tnoenBA37eBNvYTWRJ4fEGbg9ML3GvaMwDlXNeLbXMtPoJR9QsqNoTjs/s320/beating.jpg" border="0" /></a> I was awarded the 'honest scrap award by <a href="http://adorable-onemorestep.blogspot.com/">Poeticallytinted</a>. (see bottom of post for a picture of the award which Poeticallytinted gave me because she thinks my blog’s content or design is brilliant (ha ha ha how can I not be bigheaded when I literally have a big head). Thank you so much PT for showing my blog some love, unfortunately since there are no interesting facts about Ms DM, instead of the 'ten honest things about me' I have decided to do a post on ten 'sins' I have honestly been walloped for by my mama 'the queen of corporal punishments'.<br /><br /><strong>10 honest <s>sins</s> things about me <s>that I have been walloped for</s> </strong><br /><div><br />1. I nearly got expelled from Primary school aged 7 for writing an explicit letter with hand drawn pornographic images. My mother has never forgotten this and she tattoed scars on my behind so that neither would I.<br /><br />2.I once got my mother to fire a new housegirl because she had too many pimples on her face and i refused to eat what she cooked. My father concerned that I was not eating got my mother to fire her. my mother walloped me in my father's abscence for being shallow then turned me into the 'housegirl' for the remainder of the school holidays.<br /><br />3. My brother who was aged 7 at the time once got me (at age 13) to electrocute myself on a socket claiming that it would feel 'nice'. My mother tatooed his behind, his face and his back in her expert effortless fashion, screaming 'is this nice?' over and over again.Then tattoed my behind for being foolish enough at 13 to listen to a 7year old boy and nearly getting myself killed in the process.<br /><br />4. I was once 'chucked out' of our local church together with my aunt for being 'inapporpriately dressed in miniskirts. My mother cleared all our wardrobes and threw away anything that was 'above the knees.' which loosely translated means 'she left us with no clothes that were not trousers, jeans or school uniforms.<br /><br />5.My mother once made me and my cousin sleep (nearly the whole night)outside our front gate in a hailstorm for going on a date with a guy at the same restauramt that she happened to be at for a business lunch. After being made to sleep outside we were still walloped the next morning.<br /><br />6. My mother once made me and my sister shambock each other (nearly to death) for her entertainment (not strictly true but painfully accurate). We had gone to our nieghbours house and ate dinner there (because it was chicken and rice) and we were sick of the vegetarian (sabbath) saturdays at my house. Stupidly we had arrived home with 'rice and chicken' stains on our clothes.<br /><br />7. I once 'shared' a man with my cousin because she was not convinved I was telling the truth when I said that he was a very good kisser and an expert at 'touching' up a woman that I agreed to let her 'expierence' it for herself. My brother told my mother and she walloped me and my cousin for 'trying to run a prostitution ring in her compound.<br /><br />8.On holiday at my grandmothers I once wrote a letter to my father complaining bitterly about her alleged (false) cruel treatment of us (my brother and I)so that my parents could come pick us up. My mother brought my grandmother the letter, read it out loud in front of her and several other people and still left me in her care.....the treatment became accurately cruel (and not false) for the duration of that holiday.<br /><br />9. In kindergaten I once stole and eat another child's lunch of jallof rice....and was caught. My mother cooked two big pots of jallof rice and demanded that I finish them or else she would wallop me. I finished them.....she still walloped me expertly.<br /><br />10. When still at nursery I was so ashamed of an uncle of mine that my mother had asked to drop me at school (because he had a beard and had also just arrived from the village) that i lied to him that 'adults' were not allowed on the school premises and asked him to drop me round the corner. The teacher sent my mother a letter asking why I had arrived at nursery unaccompanied. My mother (after asking said uncle why he had not taken me straight into my nursery class and he told her what I had said to him) realised what I had done and walloped me for being ashamed of my relatives. </div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314681623010882610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 194px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfwqk2O1aY7FzMEpVBCQH0MN7ZTaCb99ZxFyBTucy86-O3aGqW0uJc1QHu-zuYP_OzTs2XsyuUp1IQnJEDAcw8cYImfXJ0S0KcxfgOK4kwRwMlpXCpdUq8z0nOL4oQOmULVTyxc6SdSQw/s320/blog_award.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />As i am incredibly <s>selfish and want to hold on to the award</s> lazy I will bend the rules of the award by not list seven blogs I find brilliant because every blog on my blog list and (those that i have ever read/commented on) are brilliant. However I will tag the first person to comment on this post to write thier own 'ten sins I have committed' post.Miss Definitely Maybehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02812755876909158625noreply@blogger.com89tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002752152333675607.post-64721193032949464292009-03-10T00:24:00.002+00:002009-03-10T00:31:28.394+00:00The Truth that got me 'Rihannad' ..............<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNtsbgryAtINyV8PaF0niYJ-wpc4dJV0kxmXwviTC8zPHH7Lj7slheAwH5Z2Opo8DrLyRxUsRs2sVyMmjqXLeK3ikYWf3jyrUP-FAKKjAosaKijy0pioQJXz298MiA6Aci_4FXPYlITms/s1600-h/jkn0277l.jpeg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311318243264582322" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 276px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 302px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNtsbgryAtINyV8PaF0niYJ-wpc4dJV0kxmXwviTC8zPHH7Lj7slheAwH5Z2Opo8DrLyRxUsRs2sVyMmjqXLeK3ikYWf3jyrUP-FAKKjAosaKijy0pioQJXz298MiA6Aci_4FXPYlITms/s320/jkn0277l.jpeg" border="0" /></a>My <a href="http://my-mothers-child.blogspot.com/2008/08/yesboys-ii-men-definitely-didnt-sing.html">mama</a> taught me all kinds of lessons, " if you so much as touch a guy you can get STI's", "you can get pregnant by merely smiling at a man", "your mother will know if you have fooled with a guy because your uterus is linked to her umbilical chord". My mother was a diligent teacher, she taught 'practicals' as well. Painful lessons delivered with equally pain inducing apparatus, shambocks, slippers, branches from our mango tree and my fathers Italian leather belts and stilettos thrown on the spur of an angry moment. Yes my mama was a professional at all kinds of lessons that involve torture but unfortunately she forgot to teach me the most important lesson of all 'under no circumstances shalt thou spit at random dudes'. I will never forgive her for this oversight, and neither will my ass.<br /><br />He walloped me, right in the middle of the high street (or its African equivalent). 6 inch heels held firmly in both hands, I ran like the wind towards my mothers office, what better place to seek sanctuary than in the arms of the woman who bore you. BIG MISTAKE. He ran like a tornado, chased me right past the uniformed doormen and the revolving door whilst continuing trying to kick me with his size 13 Wien Brenner clad caveman feet. (who knew men could multi task). As misfortune would have it I bump into my mother (with random guy still in hot pursuit) waiting for me in the lobby. My mother being my mother takes charge of the situation, by take charge I mean she wanted to know, 1.why I was ten minutes late for our appointment, 2. why I was charging into her office like a shoeless crazed idiot whilst being chased by another equally crazed but shoe wearing idiot. Before I could utter a single word Crazed Shoe Wearing Idiot blurts out <em>'Ma I do not know this girl, can you imagine she spat at me right in my face, spat at me like i was dirt, common filth, can you imagine Ma?' </em>.<br /><br />I can not describe to you what took place after he uttered that sentence. All i will say is hell hath no fury than a mother whose child has just spat at a random stranger. She walloped me. Right there in the front lobby, in full view of the underpaid receptionist with a hairstyle she could barely afford on her wages and was clearly supplementing by being sugar daddied by my mothers deputy (a story for another day). In full view of the doorman with his weather chapped hands, roughened from years of carrying management briefcases and holding the door open for senior management like my mother who were not disabled but were apparently deemed wealthy or educated enough not to have to carry out such trivia as opening their own doors or carrying their own briefcases(again another post for another day). Briefly my mother turned to Random Shoe Wearing dude and said with her boardroom authority 'my son let me handle this' and took off her Zanotti heels and preceded to wallop me like a new bride pounding yam to impress her new in laws.<br /><br />I danced the 'two step' my feet yoyoing on the marble floor as if i was stepping on hot coals as my mother attempted to educate me the best way she knew how. The door man tried to come to my rescue but nearly got his weather chapped hands (that he used to carry management briefcases) 'stilettoed' and quickly retreated. I guess he was more interested in saving his briefcase carrying hands than preventing my mother from 'domestic violencing' my arse. Its ironic that it was random show wearing dude that saved me, he knelt down arms raised in the air as if in surrender, and cried 'Ma i beg wo you leave the girl , she doesn't know any better, please ma.' By this time i was cowering behind him, seeking protection from the very person who ten minutes before I had so eagerly (with his encouragement if i might add ) spat at. My mother ordered me upstairs, and as i was getting into the lift I could hear her offering random shoe wearing dude some money "apparently for the indignity I had made him suffer" which he then had the indignity to accept. That was the best or the worst walloping I ever got (depending whether you were interviewing my mother or me). This walloping had been completely undeserved and up to this day I feel strongly that a great injustice was committed right there in that office lobby.<br /><br />*rewind 15 minutes earlier*<br /><br />You see I had met Random Shoe Wearing dude outside the bank as I was going to my mother's office. Granted i had spat at his face, looked him in the eye and then intentionally spat at him with all the force i could fathom, but he had asked me to, Literally asked me to spit in his face, his exact words were 'If you do not fancy me, like I fancy you, spit in my face and then i will know you mean it.' I had refused but he had insisted kept following me all the way from the Bank towards my mothers office. I asked him to stop following me as i would get into trouble if my mama saw me with a random shoe wearing dude but he insisted 'spit in my face to prove you are serious and i will leave you alone. I pleaded with random shoe wearing dude to leave me alone but he would not listen, 'spit in my face, he urged, spit at me or else I will follow you right into your mother's office. As we rounded the corner and I saw my mothers multi story office building looming in the distance I debated whether I should.....'spit in my face' he yelled with zeal enjoying the discomfort that he was putting me through. At that very moment I made my decision..' Spit in........'(I did not let him finish this sentence) I turned looked him in the eye and dutifully obliged.<br /><br />fast forward 3 seconds later<br /><br /><em>He walloped me, right in the middle of the high street (or its African equivalent). 6 inch heels held firmly in both hands, I ran like the wind towards my mothers office.......................</em>Miss Definitely Maybehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02812755876909158625noreply@blogger.com57tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002752152333675607.post-34478339871816849832009-03-01T22:26:00.005+00:002009-03-01T22:31:43.693+00:00Date Me, coz I'm Rich ..............<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgLoEhfO488A9w1rK7LA-q_C80Kwhlra_eMmdqrujiaTDLE2aAMuuFvI6LmEhxh0vmztW2zxu39GRIPtL2_Pyw6KWuOyADgbUsEgJkRhNZDlGi13wucFlK3EQy5TKGAEmrjZM5N2ILjWc/s1600-h/mban1191l.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308346797522102738" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 272px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgLoEhfO488A9w1rK7LA-q_C80Kwhlra_eMmdqrujiaTDLE2aAMuuFvI6LmEhxh0vmztW2zxu39GRIPtL2_Pyw6KWuOyADgbUsEgJkRhNZDlGi13wucFlK3EQy5TKGAEmrjZM5N2ILjWc/s320/mban1191l.jpg" border="0" /></a>Okay, before you start invading my inbox with all sorts of grovelling , arse licking, desperately pleading emails, asking for financial assistance to send your Siamese quadruplets or your one legged, three eyed, four nosed, green haired sister for emergency death or death surgery, let me clarify one thing.......I'm not rich. Anyone who still buys a lottery ticket, or takes part in any sort of bet, get rich quick scheme, raffle or lucky dip is clearly not 'rich' by my standards. No matter how much money you have, if you still feel the need to have more then clearly you are not rich, the same goes for those who don't have much money but don't feel the need to have more......you are even worse off...I shan't give you a label, I receive enough hate mail as it is lol.<br /><br />Okay so I'm not rich, right?.......wrong.... according to Sparkey* and 9 of its users. I woke up to a message in my hotmail inbox. <em>Dear Miss Definitely Maybe, This is a summary of reasons that people gave when asked "Why would you date Miss Definitely Maybe ?" 1. hot (138 votes) 2. cute (49 votes) 3. fashionable (23 vote) <strong>4. rich (9 vote)</strong></em> . Really???????!!! 9 guys would be willing to date me only coz of my perceived wealth???? I mean I know I am an incredibly sexy, hot, intelligent good looking mama, who would definitely make the <a href="http://thehappygoluckybachelor.blogspot.com/">thehappygoluckybachelor's</a> Stunnas of the Month List if only i was willing to submit my portfolio (lol there is no shame in honesty, don't hate the genes......). I mean I have heard about a gold digging dude or two but 9???!! Don't get me wrong I'm all for equal opportunity dating and all, hell men have as much God given gold digging rights as us the fairer sex, jus as long it ain't no man of mine or my money they doing their digging at lol.....coz there ain't enough of it.....to....share. What with my shoe buying and shoe buying and shoe buying? I ain't Oprah n*$$as, I hold down a 9 to 5!!!<br /><br />I'm not sure how this 'gold digging' dating thing would work though. Do i have to drive him to work then pick him up again? Take him and his friends to the movies and pay for all their corn? Will it be mandatory to take him shopping on Saturdays and pay his mobile pone bill even if 3/4 of the calls are to his friends? Do I have to help him out with his rent, treat his brothers and buy drinks for 10 of his friends in the club? Do i take him for dinner and he shows up with an entourage and I'm still expected to foot the bill? Do I have to buy him Valentine, Birthday and anytime presents that are better than all of his friends'? Am i expected to turn up at his door with flowers and candy or send him on 6 figure sum costing holidays around the world just so i can be labelled romantic? I'm not stingy at all, I'm damn well overly generous with a whole lotta sh*t in a relationship, quadruple orgasms, toe curling 'sutra' , there's a whole loada honey in this kitty Kat and I'm all for sharing (lol don't hate.....jus practice the yoga/pilate's) but when it comes to finances I only have one motto, 'If it don't pay interest then don't invest in it period.'<br /><br />Truly some of this sh*t is enough to turn a sister gay...... or NOT..... becoz historically women are worse than guys when it comes to gold digging and its leaching practices. According to a biased, inaccurate, totally unreliable and grossly inaccurate survey I carried out (in my head) for every 9 gold digging sparkey using dudes there are probably 900 gold digging sparkey using females allegedly disguised among its 9000 strong black independent women.... So Sparkey if you are listening forget the good man or woman but just send me a rampant rabbit... Date me coz I'm rich??? How about Date me NOT!!!!!!Miss Definitely Maybehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02812755876909158625noreply@blogger.com90tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002752152333675607.post-65641454863545544792009-02-22T21:44:00.004+00:002009-02-22T21:51:07.423+00:00The Rottweiler ate my Valentine................<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtrI4nX8wjuE7ENF6SDnyoa1DciPut8LMBOOFFqhCRTxuN3tC9cs5HpJPcKEpX_LwR2zy0N6XzyTmAGy6J5oZthzq4NAZ2gtL2Gt0B08pQG-eyXnITUCpHB505hffftiAjmN-1Yv3d7Ps/s1600-h/99_vicious_dog_chasing_an_unaware_man_jogging_while_listening_to_music_on_headphones.png"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305740257494220162" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 299px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 236px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtrI4nX8wjuE7ENF6SDnyoa1DciPut8LMBOOFFqhCRTxuN3tC9cs5HpJPcKEpX_LwR2zy0N6XzyTmAGy6J5oZthzq4NAZ2gtL2Gt0B08pQG-eyXnITUCpHB505hffftiAjmN-1Yv3d7Ps/s320/99_vicious_dog_chasing_an_unaware_man_jogging_while_listening_to_music_on_headphones.png" border="0" /></a>So... I have been AWOL for nearly a month now, not that any of you noticed.......... bloody traitors!!!!! You would have thought that by now, all of you would have carried out a fine tooth comb search of all the major mortuaries, intensive care units and ER departments........ Not that you would have found me, but you might have caught a glimpse of my 'supposed to have been' Valentine with half of his muscular, toned, sexy thigh ripped out, and a drip hanging out of his incredibly sexy 'kiss me again and again' absolutely sinful lips.<br /><br />That's because the idiot had the bad sense to choose to get his leg mauled by a Rottweiler on Valentines day......how absolutely selfish and inconsiderate, One would have thought a true gentleman would have wined and dined her royal highness Miss DM, presented her with a box heaving with carats from Tiffany's then escorted her home in the Lamborghini and only there after would a true gentleman have chosen to give a hungry Rottweiler a mouthful of thigh to feast on. You wouldn't blame me for thinking the idiot did that on purpose, some men will do anything to get out of showing a lady some much deserved romance and affection, even if it means forcing open the mouth of some poor Rottweiler and manually clamping its resistant fangs round a meaty thigh.<br /><br />Men are soooooo capable of such underhand dealing. I remember this hot shot doctor at my sister's hospital, promised to wine her and dine her at some fancy upmarket restaurant on a non occasion(this was the point she should have been suspicious, men don't even do occasions) The dude pulls out all stops, orders celebratory champagne even though there was nothing to celebrate, and just as the £235 bill gets slapped on the table, dude takes a spoonful of dessert, starts choking, eyes rolling, his whole life flashing before his very eyes, had to be taken to hospital in some ambulance, but not before the mean waiter made my sister pay the bill by visa, some people have no compassion, you would think in light of the medical emergency, the stupid restaurant would have let the celebratory champagne, oysters and caviar slide on the house, but no they had to have a payment, apparently dude had a peanut allergy and didn't know the dessert contained nuts (that's despite the clear warning on the menu next to the ice cream which read 'may contain nut traces'), I can bet a million dollars (I'm yet to win on the Lotto) that the selfish so and so did that on purpose, probably decided he would rather take his chances with his maker than fork out £235 on a dinner without the remote possibility of getting 'some' later that night........ Okay maybe that wasn't on purpose but you do get my drift.<br /><br />So I spent the remainder of Valentines Day alone at home, after spending the entire afternoon at the Trauma Unit (don't know who was more traumatised the Rottweiler or my idiotic Valentine. I asked the ward nurse if when he had come in,he had a tiny blue box in his possession, but she looked at me with a blank stare, which made me realise that not only had I been over ambitious in my gift expectations but that the poor b*tch had never heard of Tiffany's and its limitless extortionately priced possibilities....apparently neither had my so called Valentine....he had the additional bad taste of buying me a card post Valentines asking me 'to be his valentine', a card????!!!!!!!! Had i known I would not have trekked to the hospital in sub zero temperatures to see his ass.what did he mean by 'be my valentine'? The fact that I was expecting something more weighty and pricey from Tiffany's should have already clued him to the fact that i was already regarding myself as his valentine. Cards are for funerals, or funerals or multi funerals, for everything else there is MasterCard, or Visa or American Express. I ain't no gold digger but surely anything which costs less than a Starbucks latte does not constitute a gift....which is why next year I will have a Valentines Registry like they do for weddings...As for my supposed Valentine, I wish the Rottweiler had not ripped out his muscular, toned and incredibly sexy thigh but swallowed his card buying self WHOLE!!!!!!!!!!!Miss Definitely Maybehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02812755876909158625noreply@blogger.com51tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002752152333675607.post-81214353018492095212009-02-01T22:43:00.003+00:002009-02-01T22:49:47.377+00:00Free Noodles, Skinny B*tches & Money Induced Orgasms<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-KyI-5ODbAZnGWusp2Z5absUNEq0YwjjR5aoTIX99k2BfqKZc7BXIr2u52QArmqnIYXXkWi-TH2oNdmB6viCvseDRYUBn7HoNp9ziQeVQq1331y3gUGajguMsIZEUv62Hml248skuqX0/s1600-h/pic1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291294244110023202" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 244px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-KyI-5ODbAZnGWusp2Z5absUNEq0YwjjR5aoTIX99k2BfqKZc7BXIr2u52QArmqnIYXXkWi-TH2oNdmB6viCvseDRYUBn7HoNp9ziQeVQq1331y3gUGajguMsIZEUv62Hml248skuqX0/s320/pic1.jpg" border="0" /></a>I nearly had a multiple orgasm whilst standing in line to get free noodles and rice crackers at the newly opened Shimla Pink (Chinese restaurant) just down my street. No i wasn't having sex with some random stranger in the queue jus to pass the time, it was because I Miss Definitely Maybe saw my very first Bugatti Veyron in the flesh, I mean on the road kind of in the flesh and not in some swanky showroom, car show or front pages of Motoring Today. I swear my knees buckled, my stomach did funny little flips and i felt waves of pleasure, that was my first money induced orgasm there and then.<br /><br />I have never been aggressive when it comes to man hunting, but i nearly whipped off my panties, pushed up my boobs and swore under my breath 'n*gga if you so much as look my way I'm soooooooo gonna do you tonight'......and I was gonna...do him..... like my life depended on it. I haven't been laid in a loooong time and what better way to bring my sexy back than at the back seat of an £800 000 motor f*cking a man who is probably worth 100 times the cost of the said motor. I mean I ain't no gold digga (if my dating record is anything to go by) in fact I love my broke brothers but hey 1998 Honda Accord versus 2007 Bugatti Veyron that's definitely a no brain-er, never mind that said owner of both Bugatti and restaurant was a 40 something, probably midlife crisis undergoing, pot belled dude(he looked like he was hiding more noodles under his sweater than they were giving free at the counter)......I was still going to do him.<br /><br />So there i was standing in queue, revising my game plan, no longer salivating at the prospect of free noodles and prawn crackers but the chance to tattoo my bottom on those heated leather seats, having hot steamy sex against some classical music background (rich people listen to such nonsense right???), when some skinny bitch appears out of nowhere. Don't get me wrong I have nothing but respect for them skinny bitches, I mean anyone who can live on a diet of Evian water, lettuce leaves and oxygen deserves nothing but respect. I used to think my game was tight, I mean I'm a healthy UK size 10/12 (emphasis on healthy) who has tried all fad diets under the sun to become a slightly skeletal more defined cheekbones and slightly protruding ribcage size 8 and failed miserably so you can understand what i mean when I say i have nothing but respect for those size zero skinny bitches.<br /><br />Anyway so said skinny bitch walks right up to the door spends 3 or 6 minutes chit chatting with pot belled dude, about the restaurant/free noodles (as if she has ever in her 30 or so years passed a calorie of carbohydrates between those size zero lips of hers), then said skinny bitch brazenly asks to see the motor and before you could say 'hot steamy sex with size zero skinny bitch' pot belled dude was giving his stack of promotional leaflets and instructions to lock up to a probably Honda 1997 driving minion and leading said skinny bitch to the front passenger heated leather seats, and zooming off into the sunset with classical music probably playing in the background. Okay it was 2pm on a cold and frosty afternoon so that sunset was probably a figment of my imagination but damn those skinny bitches sure got game, and she didn't have to whip off her panties, suck in her stomach or push up her boobs, that's why I have nothing but respect for those size zero, Evian water drinking, lettuce nibbling, oxygen sucking skinny bitches.Miss Definitely Maybehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02812755876909158625noreply@blogger.com59tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002752152333675607.post-27999237103847890802009-01-25T21:36:00.004+00:002009-01-25T21:53:21.096+00:00Lights, Camera, Penis ...........Idiots!!!!!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsykBSr_MaPf8H0YTHeq1N-80ZT7L8kUHPgU86yQRDoDYguoLh37YPWTcqcahIIeHd7dRej2aSe_hmBihZEPD8ma79qTRxOeuoAY90KsTwyy85Kwtt9Wrf6EEzrQC7cCAO12BigA1hz78/s1600-h/tcrn16l.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294624027206626882" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 222px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsykBSr_MaPf8H0YTHeq1N-80ZT7L8kUHPgU86yQRDoDYguoLh37YPWTcqcahIIeHd7dRej2aSe_hmBihZEPD8ma79qTRxOeuoAY90KsTwyy85Kwtt9Wrf6EEzrQC7cCAO12BigA1hz78/s320/tcrn16l.jpg" border="0" /></a> To all those bubble bursting so and so's (Shubby, Clnmike, Aloofar included) who claimed my 'almost' moment didn't count, I have decided to withhold the juicy details, now we will see if my almost moment isn't a big deal after all ha ha ha ha whose laughing now (LMAO!!!) I'm not completely heartless though, so in compensation I will tell you about some rather idiotic incident that happened a while ago. I know i wasn't born an idiot, I cried when the midwife slapped my bottom, I took to breastfeeding like I had read the manual, I never tried to taste my poo poo like the whole bunch of you when you were kids, and the only subject in which i had to cheat at exams was Maths, so I'm convinced that my transition to idiocy most have happened overnight i probably got struck struck by lightening and in a flash turned from reasonably intelligent to thick, for how else would you explain the episode that happened below?<br /><br />PS: names have not been changed to protect the identity of the two idiots involved.<br /><br /><span style="color:#333333;">(its 11pm, I'm bored, in bed alone twiddling my thumbs, tryin unsuccessfully to count sheep when my phone rang)<br /></span>ms DM: hello<br />Spence <span style="color:#333333;">(idiot 1)</span> : hey Miss DM its been ages<br /><span style="color:#333333;">(now me and Spence have been friends since forever, we grew up together)</span><br />ms DM <span style="color:#333333;">(idiot 2):</span> hey Spence, where have you been hiding?<br /><span style="color:#333333;">***insert plenty of small talk***<br /></span><br />Mr idiot 1: I'm bored<br />Ms idiot 2: me too <span style="color:#333333;">(note to self an idle mind is the devil's workshop)</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#333333;">(Ms idiot 2 starts giggling)</span><br />Idiot 1: hey idiot 2 whats funny<br /><br />idiot 2: nothing idiot 1<br />Idiot 1: come on idiot 2 we have been friends for ages, why are you laughing<br /><br />Idiot 2, its nothing i swear <span style="color:#333333;">(idiot 2 starts giggling again) </span><br />Idiot 1, now that's really unfair coz i think you laughing at me<br /><br />Idiot 2: don't be silly, okay I was just thinking back when we were all kids and we used to show each other our bits <span style="color:#333333;">(insert more giggling here)<br /></span>Idiot 1:<span style="color:#333333;">(insert a lot of laughing out loud)</span> we were stupid then, but then we were young and innocent<br /><br />Idiot 2 : well I'm still young and innocent.<br />Idiot 1, ha ha ha ha so you are saying you would still show your bits?<br /><br />Idiot 2, if i wanted to yes, now wouldn't it be funny if we compared our bits sought of like before and after <span style="color:#333333;">(more foolish giggling) </span><br />Idiot 1: LOL that would be funny<br /><br />idiot 2: show me yours<br />Idiot 1: are you crazy how??????????<br /><br />idiot 2: just show me.......send me a picture message or something and i will send you one<br />Idiot 1: lol okay hold on<br /><br />Idiot 2: seriously?????????<br />Idiot 1, yeah why not we are friends aren't we ?<br /><br />idiot 2, <span style="color:#333333;">(insert more foolish giggling )</span>am waiting<br />Idiot one: have you received it yet?<br /><br />idiot 2 : still waiting.......<br />idiot 2: hold on I have a text message <span style="color:#666666;">(starts giggling) </span><br />Idiot 2: i cant believe you actually sent it ha ha ha ha<br /><br />idiot 1: what you laughing at? I'm more than averaged sized<br />idiot 2 :yes its very big but this is really naughty <span style="color:#333333;">(not to mention incredibly foolish)<br /></span><br />idiot 1: I'm waiting.........its your turn<br />idiot 2: say what????????????????????????<br /><br />idiot 1: well we have a deal, you said show me and i will show you, so its your turn<br />idiot 2: <span style="color:#333333;">(don't insert any more giggling, just a really uncomfortable silence)</span> errrrrrrrrrrrrr but..<br /><br />idiot 1: Idiot 2 don't you try and play me now.<br />idiot 2: my phone camera ain't working plus the lighting in here ain't good<br /><br />idiot 1 : <span style="color:#333333;">( starts hurling abuse)</span> you ain't playing fair<br />idiot 2: am sending , have sent <span style="color:#333333;">(sent a blank pic) </span><br />idiot 1 <span style="color:#333333;">(hurls abuse, loads of F words, C words and B words)</span>you are a spoilt bitch, selfish c*nt, you feasted on my shit now you don't want to keep your end of the deal<br /><br />idiot 2 N*gga i cant possibly show you my thing<br />idi0t 1 why the hell not<br /><br />idiot 2: what if i get recognised,<br />idiot1: so you get recognised by your p*ssy now????? I'm not asking for a face jus your p*ssy dammit!!!!!!<span style="color:#333333;">(insert loads of shouting)</span><br /><br />Idiot 1 demands his pic back, which i resend, but then phones to say how does he know i deleted it from my phone, and that I have probably forwarded it to my friends and sh*t, he hurls some more abuse, <span style="color:#333333;">(i hurl my own abuse)</span> then he says he doesn't want to speak to me again and slams the phone down. <span style="color:#333333;">(Idiot 2 has just lost a friend.)<br /></span><br />WHY, HOW two adults over the age of 26 could absolutely engage in such foolishness I don't know but all i know is........... Hi my name is Ms DM and I'm an utter numpty.Miss Definitely Maybehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02812755876909158625noreply@blogger.com67tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002752152333675607.post-43855149736133179402009-01-18T20:32:00.001+00:002009-01-18T20:59:45.550+00:00Almost Doesn't Count ..........<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiqGISbK7oVUlLoEDhdNd3jishXntI54J2jgXEZbZp-yVK_RqmDOBcYTF8JcShk6JtT2c8ncHTsv57f1JVzCAGkJcRygCZPC2MewbxV4lRqu00ILl1KXY8Wm5uatu8s4AgEzUZ1cZrp1k/s1600-h/jfa0712l.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276051914107389170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 242px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiqGISbK7oVUlLoEDhdNd3jishXntI54J2jgXEZbZp-yVK_RqmDOBcYTF8JcShk6JtT2c8ncHTsv57f1JVzCAGkJcRygCZPC2MewbxV4lRqu00ILl1KXY8Wm5uatu8s4AgEzUZ1cZrp1k/s320/jfa0712l.jpg" border="0" /></a>
<br />
<br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">This past weekend, I almost got laid..........
<br /></span><em></em></div>
<br /><div align="center"><em><strong></strong></em></div><div align="center"><em><strong>BUT</strong></em> </div><div align="center"></div>
<br />
<br /><div style="FONT-SIZE: 180%" align="center"><strong>Almost Doesn't Count, Right?????</strong>
<br />
<br /></div><align="center"><em></em><div align="center"><em>well in t</em><em>his instance</em> </div>
<br />
<br /><div align="center">
<br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">WRONG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! </span></strong></div><span style="font-size:78%;">
<br />
<br /><div align="center">
<br /></span></div></strong>the <strong>END</strong>.
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /><div align="center">or is this........................</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /><div align="right">the <span style="font-size:78%;"><strong>beginning</strong></span>...............</div><div align="center"></div><div style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"></span></div><div style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"></span></div><div style="FONT-SIZE: 78%"></div>
<br />Miss Definitely Maybehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02812755876909158625noreply@blogger.com57tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002752152333675607.post-46433860650586849512009-01-06T01:25:00.007+00:002009-01-06T01:38:58.177+00:00Why I should join Alcoholics R Us ............<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-0AyxP-R7p7Mv-5Yze5EmS6YxHWYkjEOA9vhWWPhyphenhyphenJDr_YTIoR0WqNGvftVoFmwG4aR07Karl8530Ns0qtLT7ft6GCQd9Jgnc83hy4LJY30lYJiKzzG1hWiiZwfGhQverIYzDegxTAwc/s1600-h/TTF-alcoholics.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287958634947148530" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-0AyxP-R7p7Mv-5Yze5EmS6YxHWYkjEOA9vhWWPhyphenhyphenJDr_YTIoR0WqNGvftVoFmwG4aR07Karl8530Ns0qtLT7ft6GCQd9Jgnc83hy4LJY30lYJiKzzG1hWiiZwfGhQverIYzDegxTAwc/s320/TTF-alcoholics.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;">I have done so many things these past two weeks that I ought not to, that its a miracle that the good Lord has not struck me with lightening in disgust (and no this is not a laughing out loud matter either) anyway this Cinderella lost her glass slipper but the not so careful Prince Charming in his haste to run after her, tripped, fell and broke the damn slipper (unfortunately the fairy godmother forgot to give our Cindy an instruction manual on what happens in such a situation and until she does.....)well thats a story for another day. As promised I have posted the results of my alcaholic anon quiz. But i was still quite drunk when i took it so my answers are probably seriously flawed.</span></span><br /><div></div><br /><span style="font-size:95%;">Rules<br />This simple quiz may help you answer the question, “Am I an alcoholic?” Give yourself one point for each “yes” answer.<br /><br /></span><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="font-size:95%;"><span style="color:#660000;">Should you worry about your drinking problem only when you get hospitalised with liver disease?<br /></span>No. definitely not. You should start worrying when you can no longer make it to the bathroom in time or when the hangover hurts so bad you call in sick for work and it's made you so stupid you use "something escaped at the zoo so I had to help catch it" as an excuse again.<br /></span><a name="questionStart1"></a><br /><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="font-size:95%;"><span style="color:#660000;">3.Have you ever ordered alcohol with lunch?</span><br />Definitely not!!!!!!!!!!! But I have ordered alcohol instead of lunch. (No)<br /><br /></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size:95%;"><span style="color:#660000;">4. At your neighbourhood bar: Do they know you by the name on your licence/fake ID, know your usual drink and who to call when you pass out?</span><br /><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#000000;">I don't have a 'usual' drink, the usual changes according to the time of the month (in relation to pay day), how broke I am or who is paying so the answer is NO.</span></span></span></span><br /></span><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#000000;"><a class="text" id="answerLink_6_1" href="javascript:storeAnswer("><br /></a><span style="font-size:95%;"><span style="color:#660000;">5. You generally hang out with drinkers you met at a pub, sellers at wine and liquor stores or have bartenders and waitresses as your friends?<br /></span>Okay this is stupid who at 26 'still hangs out'? I socialise, I 'entertain' and I have a tete a tate's but i do not hang out, that's for teenagers. So NO<br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:95%;"><span style="color:#660000;">6.Given a choice you would rather never ever drink water mixed with worms than a drink containing more than 40% alcohol?<br /></span>Actually I would rather drink the worm infested water provided the worms are germs and they are actually invisible to the naked eye, or better still I would rather drink the worm infested water mixed with 40% alcohol so NO I do not choose the alcohol over the worms I would rather have both.<br /></span><a class="text" id="answerLink_8_1" href="javascript:storeAnswer("><br /></a><span style="font-size:95%;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#660000;">9. You've learned to act sober even when you are gone with the wind</span><br /></span>no when I'm gone with the wind (drunk) I act like I'm gone with the wind. trying to act sober requires too much effort which i could really put towards getting even wasted so the answer again is no.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:95%;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#660000;">7. You are comfortable sitting alone and drinking whether at home or the pub especially when you are really depressed ?</span><br /></span>No. I never drink alone because I'm too stingy to buy my own round, and technically in a pub you can never drink alone, coz there will be other drinkers even though they are not sat at your table. So NO<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:95%;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#660000;">8. You drink all week and take a day off to recuperate</span><br /></span>No i never drink all week but i can drink in one day what one is supposed to drink in a week (i drink a week's alcohol allowance in a day then take the whole week to recuperate but that was not the question was it , so NO </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="font-size:95%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#660000;">10. Can you drive better drunk than you can sober ?<br /></span>Well I have never entered a do you drive better drunk or sober contest to check my driving skills so I could not accurately answer this question. However I have never had an accident driving sober or drunk so using simple logic this would indicate that my driving skills either when drunk or sober are similar so NO.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:95%;"><span style="color:#660000;">11.Every morning you wake up with a curiosity of the night before and a headache<br /></span>No not every morning, who wakes up with a headache every morning? surely you would have gone to see your GP ages ago or be registered disabled by now and besides I wake up not wanting to remember the previous night instead of being curious about it so the answer is NO.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:95%;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#660000;">12. You drink whenever you can but will occasionally decide that a sober night with your honey might be cool ?</span><br /></span>This question is irrelevant because I do not have a 'honey' (yuck ). so i would have to answer NO<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:95%;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#660000;">14. Is drinking making your home life unhappy?</span><br /></span>My home life is unhappy for a variety of reasons none of which include drinking. In actual fact drinking makes my home life actually seem less unhappy so the answer is NO. (PS: what do you mean home life though?, if you live alone with your three cats does that still constitute a home life?)<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:95%;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#660000;">15. Is drinking affecting your reputation?</span><br /></span>NO for that to happen I would need to have a reputation in the first instance. I was born without a reputation or have completely tarnished it into non existence, So the answer is NO<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:95%;"><span style="color:#660000;">16. Do you wish people would mind their own business about your drinking — stop telling you what to do?<br /></span>NO I really wish people would mind their own business ALL the time and not just in relation to my drinking. in fact I wouldnt mind them being all up in my drinking bizz if that meant they would stay out of my other work/home/lifestyle/and work related bizzness. So the answer is NO.<br /><br /><span style="color:#660000;">17. Do you sometimes “skip” breakfast or lunch so that you’ll have more money to spend on drinks?</span><br />NO I earn enough to be able to have breakfast and lunch and then go out for drinks too so the answer is NO<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:95%;"><span style="color:#660000;">18. In arguments, do people quickly concede your point rather than risk having to deal with you when you’ve gotten overexcited?<br /></span>They concede my points because my points make sense, and I'm convincing, besides until I have the stamina of Mike Tyson I would never be confident enough to try and attempt to 'deal with' people so the answer is NO.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:95%;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#660000;">19. You are always drunk and can no longer handle your drink?</span><br /></span>NO I can definitely handle my drink. To illustrate this point more clearly last night I had --- bottles of Asti and my sober aunt told me this morning "you didn't seem drunk at ALL." So the answer is NO.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:95%;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#660000;">20. Do you tell yourself you can stop drinking any time you want to, even though you keep getting drunk when you don't mean to?</span><br /></span>I always get drunk on purpose. so again NO.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:95%;"><span style="color:#660000;">21.Have you gotten into financial difficulties as a result of your drinking?<br /></span>Please refer to question 17, but in case you need further clarification, No i was already in financial difficulties way before I started drinking. Also when I have drunk all my money nearly to the point of getting into financial difficulties I am wise enough to put away my wallet and blag rounds of friends or stupid male losers who actually think i will end up going home with them that night. So the answer is NO.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:95%;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#660000;">22. Do you turn to lower companions and an inferior environment when drinking?</span><br /></span>LOL I wish I could answer yes to this one coz it would be funny if my friends who happen to be my drinking companions read this. But what do you mean lower companions? is this like people poorer than me? in less well to do jobs? or is it a politically correct term to refer to prostitutes? The answer is still no, I am definitely open and adventurous when it comes to sexing and willing to try anything (well almost) but I'm yet to visit a gigolo (maybe I'm jus stingy and have been managing to get sex for free so far so why start paying?) so again NO.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:95%;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#660000;">23.Does your drinking make you careless of your family's welfare?</span><br /></span>No I would never put my friends and family through risks they are not willing to take. If I'm going to drive with my toes when drunk, or if its at 145miles an hour I will ask if they are willing to be in the car and will carry out a thorough risk assessment before hand (i.e ask if they are wearing their seat belts) so the answer is no. However I have nearly burnt the house down once but the family were away on vacation hence it doesn't count as their welfare was not present for me to be careless about. So NO.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:95%;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#660000;">24.Do you crave a drink at a definite time daily?</span><br /></span>If everyday at exactly 12:34pm you craved a drink that would be pretty weird wouldn't it? I have occasionally craved a drink everyday but sometimes at 12pm sometimes at 8pm sometimes at 3am and sometimes at 7:30am. I'm yet to crave a drink everyday at the same time so the answer is NO.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:95%;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#660000;">25.Does drinking cause you to have difficulty in sleeping?</span><br /></span>No actually drinking makes me sleep better. I go out on a Friday night and sleep the whole weekend through from Saturday to Monday morning just recuperating coz i will be feeling like shyt so NO i do not have difficulty sleeping after i drink.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:95%;"><span style="color:#660000;">26. Has your efficiency decreased since drinking?<br /></span>I do not understand this question but will endeavour our to answer it as well as I can. I have never been energy efficient,I don't recycle and I always dry my clothes in the drier so no my energy efficiency has not decreased. If you mean efficiency at work you best asking my manager but in imho(in my honest opinion) I have never been efficient at my work, the only thing that stops me being fired is my lecherous boss. So the answer is NO<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:95%;"><span style="color:#660000;">27. Have you ever had a complete loss of memory as a result of your drinking?<br /></span>Now this is just ridiculous how would i know I have had a complete memory loss if i had a complete memory loss? seriously <strong>ARE YOU DRUNK</strong>????? But just for the record I have had a partial memory loss like forgot where my house was but get the street right so NO i have never experienced complete memory loss.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:95%;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#660000;">28. Has your physician ever treated you for drinking?</span><br /></span>No never, I have never had an illness called 'drinking' is that similar to the flu? So again NO.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:95%;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#660000;">29. You are definitely worried about your drinking as a result of this quiz?</span><br /></span>Definitely not. If anything I'm more confident and sure of my drinking capabilities and will carry on as before, so NO.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:95%;"><span style="color:#660000;">30. Have you ever been in a hospital or institution on account of drinking?<br /></span>What do you mean institution? Is this college or university or you mean like mental institution? Well I got news for you, if its the latter they would have to catch me first!!!!!!!!!!!!<br />I have been in a hospital but not because I was drinking. I have been in a hospital because someone who was drinking whacked a glass bottle over my friend and i was the unfortunate b**st*rd who had gone out with her and there was no one else in the vicinity so i couldn't leave her bleeding self lying on the damn concrete could I? So yes I have been in a hospital on account of drinking but just not my own. Yes </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:95%;"><strong>Scoreboards</strong> *</span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#000000;"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">If you have <strong>0- 1</strong> it is relatively safe for u to be heading towards the drinks cabinet,<br /><strong>2-3</strong> watch that drink buddy and joining the gym to get rid of that beer belly/gut/love handles/stretchmarks wont hurt!!<br /><strong>4-5</strong> You are most likely to be an alcoholic, if this diagnosis is inaccurate you were probably one in your previous life.<br /><strong>6 -10 </strong>yes and above, please join your nearest AA meeting immediately.<br /><strong>10 and above</strong>, i would have suggested you slit your wrists but that would be classed as inciting someone to commit suicide which is a federal offence and I'm unwilling to go to prison on your account. Enough said.</span></em></span></span></span></span><br /><em><span style="font-size:95%;"></span></em><br /><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="font-size:95%;color:#000000;"><em>My Score </em></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="font-size:95%;"><span style="color:#000000;">Hippee 1 yes and 29 NO's. so its confirmed, contrary to what my mum, pastor, doctor and everyone else who knows me thinks, I Miss DM am definitely NOT an alcoholic!!!!! this calls for a celebration anyone care to join me at the pub to celebrate??? the first 80 rounds are on me. LOL</span> </span></span></span></span></span><br /></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="font-size:95%;">* the questions are real but the scoreboard is not. I would have wished you all happy new year but you've probably been wished that so many times that its beginning to do your head in.....so please just have a drink on my behalf coz im planning to spend the rest of the year stone cold sober.Miss Definitely Maybehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02812755876909158625noreply@blogger.com42tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002752152333675607.post-89909306408815608802008-12-27T00:01:00.001+00:002008-12-27T00:01:01.042+00:00The Morning After, the Night Before .........<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxh3jDWymp0mDphWtxup44_CSBmNa91QInypeTbns2V8DIBMAO4fYptt3gDg6X4ajefg4pvT66bhHOD7d_Xi2zBSMn3eh8iD5afiBC8WG-0yhebd_Hd-hK7IFYV5JbF8vYx1O2I5jtMqo/s1600-h/forn519l.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284245981440124898" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 199px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxh3jDWymp0mDphWtxup44_CSBmNa91QInypeTbns2V8DIBMAO4fYptt3gDg6X4ajefg4pvT66bhHOD7d_Xi2zBSMn3eh8iD5afiBC8WG-0yhebd_Hd-hK7IFYV5JbF8vYx1O2I5jtMqo/s320/forn519l.jpg" border="0" /></a> Damn,I woke up with the mother of all hangovers, it was like a terrible untalented loud ass rock band was practising in my head. The 21st birthday party was on Christmas eve, technically I went, but i didn't attend (confusing I know, but that's a story for another day). I stayed up all night waiting for Santa with my bottles of Asti (note the plural) and got sloshed, I mean stone drunk. Its a good thing my two 'audiences' were asleep.<br /><br /> I ended up doing what I always do when I'm drunk........ (which I'm not going to tell you coz you would probably kill me (for throwing my sanity outta the window in an 'i know I'm going to regret this in the morning but what the heck' kind of way)trust me I'm equally mortified, but do i regret it?....Not yet (coz I'm still not clear what actually happened). Which is why I think i need to stop drinking c.o.m.p.l.e.t.e.l.y coz clearly even having a drink once every six months is not working. So i decided to take an 'are you an alcaholic quiz lol' all i will say is "interesting results" will probably post my answers up when i get writers block.<br /><br />Now that confession time is over, can I make an announcement to all those who buy;<br />a)knitwear,<br />b)cheap ass beauty stuff like bath salts, lotions, gels, which are more likely than not to give you rashes and pimples,<br />c)anything out of the pound shop or anything that looks as if is from the pound shop<br />d) food in isolation(this includes chocolates, sweets, fruit baskets)<br />e) outdated electrical stuff such as a play station 1, cameras that still take film, video players etc<br />f) anything else that ought to make this list but I didn't think about<br />when it comes to buying Christmas presents...newsflash... "its not only the thought that counts!!!"<br /><br />My secret Santa at work bought me a cheap ass prezzie I think Santa went to pound-land, i am so disgruntled, I put so much effort in what i bought, I'm glad Santa was anonymous otherwise ....lets just say this would have been his last winter lol yeah am that pissed off about it!!!!!!!!. Personally (i don't know about any one else) I would rather have an expensive Balenciaga bag (Santa hint hint) which has been totally bought on the spur of the moment without any real 'thought' than two plastic plates that have been bought after careful consideration.... that's just me unfortunately I'm shallow like that.<br /><br />My aunt wins a mini hoover at a Christmas party, so she phones me up and asks if i would like a hoover for my car, so me not being able to pass on freebies was like 'yes please', she says 'cool that is what is your Christmas prezzie,' at this point i do a double take, I will be damned if i accept a mini vacuum cleaner for Christmas. I wait the whole year for Santa only for him to come thru my chimney trudging a hoover? WTF!!!!! I said 'eeerrrr no thanks I will be honoured if thy shalt not give me thy hoover for Christmas,' so she's promised me something else, but she huffed and puffed (in a harmless way lol) that I, like Scrooge lacked a bit of Christmas spirit coz its the thought that counts. I mean don't give me all that bull about the thought counting (absolutely no thought what so ever went into this, she won it in a lucky dip remember), so what if that particular one was expensive, a hoover is always a hoover, damn even my mama still gets lingerie for Christmas lol.<br /><br />Some people should just know when to shut the F up!!!!. Take my boss for instance, on Wednesday we happened to meet in the corridor just as I'm about to enter into the 'ladies/ lavatory/ the bathroom/ the toilet/ the powder room/ the washroom (delete as appropriate depending in which country you are in lol). Anyway he says 'do you have a minute?' (now what kind of question is that to ask someone standing at the door of a lavatory?) so I'm like 'not really, give me a minute' (coz i needed to 'go' I have one of the weakest bladders on planet earth) but he says 'oh this will only be a minute,' so i say 'sure'(and he rattles on and on about a case I'm currently working on) and this point im crossing my legs (coz its THATS bad) but he doesn't stop, I'm tryna interrupt but the fool keeps talking, so i put my hand on the door handle thinking he would get the hint but does he stop? No, the minute he said he was going to take becomes five, ten or 3 hours (according to my bladder anyway), so i open the main door into the ladies and kinda put one foot in (so that he could pointedly see that i now had to go) but he drones on and on, he just has no clue (the same goes for his managerial skills) and this point I'm just about to pee in my pants, so i say look i will speak to you later okay, and he has the nerve to say I'm nearly done jus gimme a second, i just make a dash for the nearest cubicle and even as i closed the door i heard him yell something else which sounded like 'Do you want me to leave the file on your desk so you can check the scro paperwork before we shut down for Christmas?' I'm like, wtf does this fool expect to carry on with this conversation whilst I'm peeing too????<br /><br />On a totally random but randy note, am watching this movie where they are making Johnny upstairs seem like an amateur ....I s.e.r.i.o.u.s.l.y need air, its not easy trying to be celibate, 'if true love waits' then true love needs to get its behind here asap lol. Most of the times I'm kinda into 'not getting any' but on nights like this......sweet Jesus....its just temptation, temptation, temptation. So Santa if you are reading this please hurry up with those giant ear muffs AND true love...in fact if you are going to deliver the true love in time for this Christmas season you might as well forget those giant ear muffs cause i plan to give Johnny and his girl upstairs a ride for their money coz they sure ain't the only ones with vocal chords lol.<br /><br />Im not the mushy type but to all my blogville family, happy holidays and a big thank you for keeping me sane even when my world felt like a sanitorium. Love you all.......thats enough mushiness, lemme get back to my movie.........Miss Definitely Maybehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02812755876909158625noreply@blogger.com36tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002752152333675607.post-60347429073298481332008-12-20T12:53:00.002+00:002008-12-20T14:32:48.047+00:00Liar Liar, Pants on fire<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj337DufFcTwUQzbu2-WXuYWucXviJIM5lZdAksCWw-97yu-Q8-IWfvfgsEZ5jOOTZAny1zgZPqr-Ob-2CjyD8q3z_rkSuXrqCRHgIkqy5XDN_4y0WhWr7RsRNIsclj-MgTegrkhripjKg/s1600-h/flamepants.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280554489369280466" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 246px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj337DufFcTwUQzbu2-WXuYWucXviJIM5lZdAksCWw-97yu-Q8-IWfvfgsEZ5jOOTZAny1zgZPqr-Ob-2CjyD8q3z_rkSuXrqCRHgIkqy5XDN_4y0WhWr7RsRNIsclj-MgTegrkhripjKg/s320/flamepants.gif" border="0" /></a> Wahala wont leave me alone oh!!!!!! My former best friend (the one i stopped hanging out with coz she was too much of a ho for my liking and her unscrupulous reputation was now threatening to shadow and subsequently dilute my own clean cut girl next door image) is now dating <a href="http://my-mothers-child.blogspot.com/2008/08/his-type.html">HIM</a>. (you can read about him in that link)<br /><br />men are sooooooo fickle, to think that it was only yesterday when he was planning a romantic break with me to Paris. Were it not for the inconvenience of a new job and lack of time off ............. okay that's a lie cause I would never have gone with him he is too much trouble for my delicate heart. But anyway my question is (mainly to the men up in here) if you were seriously chasing a chicca and she keeps saying no outright what is a decent mourning period before chasing another girl that she may or may not know about? b) I have learnt that x's should not be passed on to friends but what can be said about x best friends and guys who tried their luck and failed, what does the friendship/relationship manual got to say about that one??????<br /><br />Anyway I went to her place to pick up the rest of my stuff left over from 'the best friend days' and the whole flat was swarming in roses and Lilly's. Seriously it was as if you walked into a Macy's type departmental store only difference would be this would sell only flowers. Now I'm always one for juicy gossip so I'm like 'oh new suitor' and she blah blahed and mumbled something like 'M gave them to me as a moving home gift' i was like oh really I didn't know you and M were cool like that, and she was like oh we just hang and i was like oh cool but deep down i was thinking 'that's sure a lot of flowers, for jus hanging, damn if those Lilly's are just for 'hanging out' what would he give someone he touched first let alone third base with'.....but i said nothing I just picked up my stuff and left.<br /><br />So after church last weekend, I decided to pick up some last minute Christmas presents and who do i bump into M and the ex best friend hand in hand, with a Hermes bag draped casually around her arm. i jus knew it had to be true, the part of my heart currently reserved for all things sinfully expensive (which includes designer bags) cried a few silent tears lol. they convince me into having some sort of brunch. So the two idiots are making a complete fool out of me touching underneath the table and shiiiiii. I pretend not to notice but he's acting like he is doing it on purpose kind saying to me 'yeah you could have had all of this ' he was really rubbing it in like oh we going to France for a friends holiday do you want to come, blah blah blah. and they are still claiming to be friends..... liar liar someone's pants should be scotching hot by now. I dont mind (seriously) if they are dating, his rich (i love all things sinfully expensive) but his too much of a player (hence not my type), but i just wish they could be a bit more upfront about things coz there is nothing to hide. To be honest those two truly deserve each other (in a not so good way lol)<br /><br />Anyway the real drama happened yesterday there I am in Morrison's doing my last minute shopping (who am i kidding I shop all the time) and who do i bump into ..... yes M and some seemingly pregnant white chick(or she was just fat with a huge potbelly) canoodling at the cheese counter I do a double take (chick has an identical hermes Bag to my ex best friend, this boy must be buying in bulk lol) but I jus say hi and go about my biz (this is M we talking about). M calls me up this morning and says blah blah blah can i not tell my ex best friend about this blah blah blah and I'm like in the sweetest voice ever ..."Now why would i want to do that, after all you two are just really good friends aren't you ? " (and hang up on his stupid ass, mschewwwwwww)<br /><br />Its my sisters 21st birthday on Wednesday, and she's having a party at her house, I cant wait. Its been a good 6 months since i last had some wine......so I'm saving up all my calories to enjoy some Asti this Wednesday....I deserve it!!!!!!Miss Definitely Maybehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02812755876909158625noreply@blogger.com42tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002752152333675607.post-61080779384044320392008-12-13T23:36:00.003+00:002008-12-14T00:01:14.222+00:00'Only a fool breaks his own heart'<a href="http://graphicshunt.com/images/you_are_a_fool-3003.htm" title="You Are A Fool"><img src="http://images.paraorkut.com/img/pics/glitters/y/you_are_a_fool-3003.gif" border="0" alt="You Are A Fool glitters" /></a><br />I have never considered myself to be completely/absolutely, undeniably stupid or foolish. But occasionally if i was to rate my behaviour on a scale of 1-10, 1 being extraordinarily clever and 10 being utterly foolish, well I guess would rate at about 9.6 (and that's me being incredibly lenient with myself lol).I have learnt through the events of the past three weeks that there comes a point when sharing stops being caring and just becomes plain foolishness/stupidity especially when the shared thing in question is called a man.<br /><br />I have always had this annoying (now I realise incredibly foolish) habit of trying to push my ex boyfriends on to my friends. I guess I had some warped philosophy that if he turned out to be wrong for me but right for one of my friends then it wasn't a pointless 5 months, 1 year or 3 year but that God was using me for some higher cause and it wasn't my flaws that pushed him away (hey i did mention warped didn't I lol). <br /><br />anyway so two weeks ago i decided to try and force an X of mine onto a friend, now normally this has never worked for the obvious reasons cause who in their right mind would<br />a) want a girlfriend hooked up by their x who may or may not have a vendetta<br />b) want a man who is their friends reject, coz why else would he have been dumped if he didn't have a million and one flaws?<br />c)this screams desperation and no one wants to be seen as desperate (even if they are really desperate).<br />But on this occasion luck (so i thought then) was on my side. Friend of a friend had been single for a considerable length of time and X boyfriend.......well i didn't know much about x boyfriend we stopped talking (or rather i stopped taking his calls) many moons ago.<br /><br />Anyway so i spend the whole day and most of the evening extolling the virtues of the X boyfriend. I lied, i exaggerated and i unashamedly made up information where I didn't have a clue. So it worked by the end of the evening friend of a friend was drooling at the mouth, eyes watering , savouring the thought of bagging X boyfriend. She asked me for his number and literally called him then and then, girl wasn't taking any chances, i felt like saying slow down b*tch, this ain't a rush for the last drumstick on the plate but i held my breath. So they talked the whole night, and the morning after, and the whole afternoon, it was then that i started having slight misgivings that this wasn't such a good idea after all.....but unfortunately the horse had already bolted.<br /><br />Friend of a friend kept calling me to thank me and ask for advice tips of what he likes blah blah blah, part of me wanted to sabotage the whole thing, and well the other part just really wanted to be happy for them, you know 'the whole God is using me for a higher cause bullsh*t'. the guy was pulling out all the stops, freshly plucked roses by next day delivery, chocolates and sexy lingerie under pillows (got my friend to sneak it in) , handwritten notes and lil poems (okay i knew he was a hopeless romantic but WTF when did he start writing letters???I felt like picking up the phone and having a go like 'hey you never wrote to me!!!! I started having niggling doubts like 'maybe i was too hasty breaking up with the dude', 'maybe i took him too much for granted and never realised all he had to offer ' now here he was taking friend of a friend all the way to the moon and back' damn it could have been me in the cockpit of that space ship.<br /><br />Friend of a friend then decided to call me, they were finally going to meet last Monday and boy was she so excited. She went on and on about how cool he was, how romantic he was, how sexy his voice sounded blah blah blah (at this point I had stopped listening, all i wanted to scream was 'yeah I know all that I bloody dated the dude for a whole year remember!!!. She decides to end the call by stating 'You must be a fool to have let him go, cause he seems such an incredible guy'<br /><br /> Then my friend calls me, and diplomatically asks if i would get rid of the photo album as its not really appropriate for me to still keep it given the circumstances. (in case you don't know I have a whole album full of photos me and the X boyfriend took on a romantic break away. I haven't disposed of the album simply cause<br />a) i look stunning in all the photos lol and<br />b) I had fun on that holiday, an incredible time so why should i throw away all my photos coz she feels uncomfortable, hell if she was uncomfortable with me having dated him surely she should not have agreed to date him too.<br /><br />Anyway so on Wednesday they met, and apparently it didn't go so well. My friend informed me that my X for some reason or other (i will not speculate lol) decided that all he wanted was just to be friends blah blah blah. the calls have nearly all but stopped, there are no more chocolates or poems under her pillow, guess she will have to wear the sexy lingerie for someone else( lol am not gloating but if truth be told im incredibly relieved). Needless to say now friend of a friend and my friend were mad at me, apparently they think i set her up or something. She was ranting on the phone to me ' you knew he was an ass why were you hooking me up blah blah' (talk about being ungrateful, was she not the one a few days ago claiming that I was a fool to let him go?? <br /><br />I haven't cried in a long time but I cried when i got off the phone, not because I still love him, its strange i never really loved the guy, nor did i want him back, nor does he make my list of the top boyfriends ever to grace the earth, but i cried all the same. I cried coz of my photo album, I cried coz this situation was becoming incredibly complicated, i cried coz i realised that only a fool by her actions breaks her own heart. I'm genuinely sorry for her though cause i too thought that they had a good thing going (I cried remember) but on a positive note at least I get to keep my photo album lol.<br /><br />Anyway we are somewhat cool now. We all met yesterday and were able to laugh it off somewhat. But never again will I attempt to do something so foolish as to try and hook up my friends with an X boyfriend, coz ..........................<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279418363125094338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 67px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2HexJzXJIM64B6NutOPZ1n07LqZkFCY_UwpB6poIwkehrC6hrFT89FH0udi2gs_CCTiPS2uVh_nH11ivt7sqAFIG_S5lECn9-Bm33sp6DwxNgJ3XIRMGVd4V1Hob1v1t_NqeMFCZB1Po/s320/only%2520a%2520fool%2520breaks%2520his%2520own%2520heart%2520front.jpg" border="0" /><br />ps: Santa please hurry with those giant ear muffs, Johhny and his girlfriend are now invading my dreams!!!!!!!!!!!!Miss Definitely Maybehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02812755876909158625noreply@blogger.com45tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002752152333675607.post-51814986458227656692008-12-03T23:55:00.004+00:002008-12-04T00:14:32.780+00:00This is not a knock knock joke .........<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieAEguTdVpi8tIphWz6rv_otiY6vCkWUAMEye8Bsa2C9tIHsP1eJCeYKJW0vz8y-4WTM2jXTU8D1Vj2NeClaVM04Ud7mHnY6TiUCdy-puwxnJAVfsU3bnTxpkz-fbfb-5hrGz93So1YuA/s1600-h/knockknock01.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275718875189064210" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 239px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieAEguTdVpi8tIphWz6rv_otiY6vCkWUAMEye8Bsa2C9tIHsP1eJCeYKJW0vz8y-4WTM2jXTU8D1Vj2NeClaVM04Ud7mHnY6TiUCdy-puwxnJAVfsU3bnTxpkz-fbfb-5hrGz93So1YuA/s320/knockknock01.jpg" border="0" /></a>So yesterday evening I get a knock on my door and its Addicted my neighbour from downstairs. Now I secretly call him addicted coz he is addicted to weed, women and loud reggae music (I'm not sure in which order they come but he has been known to experience all his three pleasures simultaneously, that's how addicted he is. Anyway addicted lands on my doorstep wanting to do some borrowing or two.<br /><br />Apparently he is entertaining (i bet you all know what that means) he offered his special guest some tea and when he went to look into the cupboard he realised F*%$k his run out of teabags and the corner shops are all closed so would i be kind enough to lend him a tea bag or two (in case she drinks like an elephant and asks for another cuppa or two) In my head I'm thinking WTF n*gga have you been smoking too much weed, what kind of a knock knock joke is this sh*t, me and this n*gga aren't even on talking terms even though we do listen to the same radio(his loud ass reggae music) ? But dude is dead serious, so I'm like why didn't you jus say u've run out? and he gives me this look as if to say 'are you for real, and lose out on the opportunity to get laid, hell I would rather embarrass myself by asking a random neighbor for teabags than miss out on potentially great sex'.<br /><br />I spend a few minutes ramaging in my kitchen cupboard (i drink coffee and herbal teas only) and I manage to find exactly 12 teabags left. I'm doing a mental calculation of how many teabags can I give him without seeming stingy, as I am debating whether 3/4 or 7 is ideal, Addicted is shouting from the doorway, 'oh please can you hurry up coz she will wonder where I've gone to'. I am thinking this is plan ridiculous and just give him all the 12 tea bags. So now i am teabag less. the boy has the cheek to promise to pay me back, as if i will be knocking on his door anytime soon asking for my 12 teabags back...........maybe i ought to and ask for a drop of cooking oil whilst im at it lol<br /><br />So I was telling my friend today what happened and we started talking about some of the most bizarre/ outrageous things we have ever been asked to lend or we have borrowed in the past she proceeded to tell me that when she was at university she used to borrow her best friends vibrator and just put a condom on top of it. somebody say ewwww ewwww ewwwwww ewwww on my behalf please!!!!!!! My point was its dirty, unhygienic, and just proper disgusting, her argument is that she washed the vibrator before and then put a condom on it, which is just the same as sleeping with a guy who has slept with someone else, but even better as she can not get HIV from it. I get her point but that's just taking borrowing to a whole new level.....can somebody say ewwwwww ewwww ewwwww again!!!!!!<br /><br />So what are some of the crazy things you have been asked to lend or you have borrowed in the past.......please don't say a vibrator or teabags lol.Miss Definitely Maybehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02812755876909158625noreply@blogger.com54tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002752152333675607.post-40308980414686662522008-11-24T23:17:00.000+00:002008-11-24T23:18:15.022+00:00No Sex in this City ................<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZoGc4stF8V0mCeQmTNrMmabgeX0wT9wDJkUvEGIOnXYYcvW7ux4UF6GBc5Ob6Kr1ILwOCtU38f8O-x-p9avbvjo0jAUQvNSj0d9wnbrsznNyJ1N47svjbbrWa2vpqX6Eve2bKLQP9BZU/s1600-h/0301-sexed-nosex.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272357499904483714" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZoGc4stF8V0mCeQmTNrMmabgeX0wT9wDJkUvEGIOnXYYcvW7ux4UF6GBc5Ob6Kr1ILwOCtU38f8O-x-p9avbvjo0jAUQvNSj0d9wnbrsznNyJ1N47svjbbrWa2vpqX6Eve2bKLQP9BZU/s200/0301-sexed-nosex.jpg" border="0" /></a> There should be a law against having wall shaking, floor thudding, window rattling, bed breaking, mind blowing sex (yes <a href="http://shonavixen.blogspot.com/2008/11/game-on.html">Sho'</a> am talking to you lol), particularly if you live in an apartment above someone who isn't getting any, or hasn't been getting any for a while. Surely its just good neighbourliness, it makes sense, in the same way as you wouldn't eat your KFC bucket with extra large fries and two large sides in front of starving kids at a refugee camp in Somalia.<br /><br />Okay bad analogy cause I'm not starving, 'starving' would mean that I am hungry yet no 'food' is available, which is not true coz the 'food' can be made available yet I'm choosing not to eat lol maybe I'm becoming sexnorexic. But seriously its been exactly 9 months since I last got laid. The first 4 of those were hell, mainly because I was still in a long distance relationship and I missed my man so much going to bed alone was intolerable, so to make me feel better we had more phone sex during those 4 months than the rest of Holland put together, I use Holland as an example coz the rest of Europe is ultra conservative. The last 5 months have been completely erotic free, meaning no sex, no alternatives to sex, no plans to get sex and very little thoughts about sex lol. Its kinda like being on a diet, the first 3 weeks are hard work (apparently it takes that long for your pallet to change)and then afterwards you get used to the 'diet' it becomes a routine, second nature, you wonder how a few months back you could possibly eat cream cakes 3 times a day, or wake up in the middle of the night for a banana or two?<br /><br />So having successfully managed to keep my apartment a 'sex free zone' for 5 months running, you can imagine my frustration of having to endure night after night of 'oh Johnny oh Johnny ha ha ha oh Johnny Johnny ha ha ha Johnny oh Johnny ohhh ha ha ha johnny Johnny oh oh ha ha ha....... seriously how many times can one say Johnny in a minute followed by laughter then thuds, rattling more ha ha has a few Johnny's' a couple of oohs more rattling or ha ha has then a few high pitched Johnny's' then comes my favourite part of the evening.....silence, total silence. Five months is a long time in Sex-land so maybe am a bit out of touch but since when has sex become so funny that one has to say an average of 20 ha ha Ha's a minute? I know for definite that Johnny upstairs ain't no Chris Rock, he's an Electrician by trade lol so naturally i'm curious as to the cause /source of those ha ha Ha's......anyone with a hyperactive imagination to help me out?<br /><br />So when was the last time you had noisy, wall shaking, floor thudding, window rattling, bed breaking, mind-blowing sex? (and please no answers on postcards, keep it to yourselves thank you!). But seriously who ever told people that making more noise or making the apartment expierence a mini earthquake(all the rattling and shaking) means you are enjoying it a whole lot? Once upon a time, in an era long gone, the most I could manage if i was really enjoying myself were one syllable words, anything longer meant my mind wasn't yet blown away lol.I'm not hating on my horny neighbours upstairs, or cussing the building company for making low quality apartments with paper thin walls, all i'm saying is.....Santa for Christmas please bring me one gaint pair of ear muffs , or better still wave your magic wand so that jus for a day, today, there is no noisy, wall shaking, floor thudding, window rattling, bed breaking, mind-blowing sex in this city!!!!Miss Definitely Maybehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02812755876909158625noreply@blogger.com64tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002752152333675607.post-1421613847144251802008-11-18T20:51:00.000+00:002008-11-18T20:52:22.179+00:00Oh fragile heart of mine.......<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghE567IT1Lqmb6LGY0NcvQr57eURwjcK2N6dWsfhv72ydWfBUQoBsMdDPf7TBp_a50sa0aHTIfAvLluwwbbDmjo_RyrVvjG2VDmINkIarBGjAvpf7fIAn6_l0tysh-QjXngnzRKmRI4yA/s1600-h/heart.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270102430987229218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 184px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghE567IT1Lqmb6LGY0NcvQr57eURwjcK2N6dWsfhv72ydWfBUQoBsMdDPf7TBp_a50sa0aHTIfAvLluwwbbDmjo_RyrVvjG2VDmINkIarBGjAvpf7fIAn6_l0tysh-QjXngnzRKmRI4yA/s200/heart.bmp" border="0" /></a> Oh fragile heart of min<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqFsHLafP-XP3X8-XUftIGfxZx6Jgpin-RoDsyEClG1uaFpsk-j321qd-QWcc-p1czCHGAcDc-YU2vNTrnwb9GkRClEEmeAnqNnCpon0JcTcoJRBOUEVApo6sKbsI1hwgU5u2-GlrgKSg/s1600-h/heart.bmp"></a>e <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8GytP7EaeK3stQtDuVyxks1skULx95S9hnmAAYfTUGNiGKKLDmJS_QoyO_CqplwdxcynhN2jMUMW7tHl9yE4bzJN2hGMFGSZno-KeUBngIkSpet6eP-UmCQWXgJvtfIYRUSNW7wDKGQg/s1600-h/heart.bmp"></a><br />Licking its wounds defiantly within me<br />stubbornly refusing to move on<br />nor allow me to chose who i love or who i do not.<br />A heart that refuses to accept change.<br />I command yet it does not follow<br />I plead and yet it gives me no mercy<br />how can I force it to move on<br />to give up that which it holds dear<br />or love that which it does not?<br /><br />This fragile heart of mine<br />its scars and wounds reminders of love battles fought and lost<br />A heart so bruised and sore<br />and yet it still holds on to a love thats lost<br />unwilling to move on<br />refusing to open up to possibilities<br />to wipe the slate clean so I can start again.<br /><br />Dear fragile heart of mine<br />dont place me under lock and key.<br />Unlock your doors to possibilities<br />Many are knocking seeking to enter<br />and yet,<br />stubbornly you draw up your shutters<br />waiting for that familiar knock<br />which we both know will never come<br />If only you would learn from your mistakes<br />let go of the past so we can reach out,<br />reach out into a future full of loves' countless possibilities<br /><br />This fragile heart of mine<br />A heart that loves hard, breaks easily but never forgets<br />wipe the slate clean so I can start again<br />I know life has knocked you down<br />But you must take a chance and spread your wings<br />If you afraid to try<br />let me lead and you can follow<br />and eventually we might learn to fly<br />oh fragile heart of mine.Miss Definitely Maybehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02812755876909158625noreply@blogger.com39tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002752152333675607.post-79920626063434046522008-11-12T23:05:00.001+00:002008-11-12T23:15:54.015+00:00The Runaway Chicken (and other misdemeanours)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIuQ2Xl3xRwJMANeMc06zto4ZhbmhAFwebTOZm0rhxSCLpjevxT5KYYRcJz07i0htZI5pCRU2qjEtDpyEfJ-Q4xej22wpLjz4mgugKv5BlW49QYWp8gLNsKRyrXAe9xjDgXBEXzKWMmFU/s1600-h/Chicken%2520On%2520Bike.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267909604180093282" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 215px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 277px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIuQ2Xl3xRwJMANeMc06zto4ZhbmhAFwebTOZm0rhxSCLpjevxT5KYYRcJz07i0htZI5pCRU2qjEtDpyEfJ-Q4xej22wpLjz4mgugKv5BlW49QYWp8gLNsKRyrXAe9xjDgXBEXzKWMmFU/s320/Chicken%2520On%2520Bike.jpg" border="0" /></a>Those of you who ever lived or actually still live in Africa will be able to understand this analogy. Remember how back in the day (don't know if its still the practice) you could buy a live chicken and take it home to kill, skin and cook? remember sometimes how after looking forward to the whole 'we are going to eat chicken huha' the damn animal smells death and does a runner and those members of the household unfortunate enough to still be called kids would have to chase the damn animal across the yard until you eventually catch it or until your intended dinner escapes from the yard never to be seen again?........I wonder sometimes whether calling a coward 'chicken' was solely derived from such incidents.<br /><br />To cut a boring story short, I chickened out, I dilly dallied so long making a decision that in the end there was no decision to be made. I realised that if you have to 'think' so long about being with someone no matter how loving or adorable they were, then you have no business being with them in the first instance. So I took the easy way out and did the runaway chicken on him, I feel guilty, he feels hurt he says he thought i was coming round. I have been hurt before so I try by all means to avoid hurting any other human being cause I know how it feels, so as much as the thought of being with him was an attractive prospect I don't love him, I need to totally and completely be free from any baggage from my previous relationship before i can even think of being in another relationship.<br /><div><br /><div>He looked at me for 10 solid minutes, ten minutes sitting opposite me not saying a word just looking at me and then he got up kissed me on the forehead and left closing the front door gently behind him but i felt as if he had banged it shut. So much was said in those 10 mins of silence then we could have said in ten minutes of conversation.So I'm officially the runaway coward a chicken. I guess as much as you cant help who you love, neither can you help who you don't love.</div><div><br /></div><div>To those who were awaiting with bated breaths photos of the new boudoir you can now breath out. the stupid bed broke, well part of the head board that is, and no I wasn't getting down and dirty with anybody, funny thing was I was bouncing up and down the thing, you know just testing it out just in case well, what the hell I was just testing to see how strong it would be under pressure. Next thing I know the the thing snaps crack and one half of the thing lands on the floor, mschwwwwww that bed was my pride and enjoy, so I'm having to dismantle it and take it back to the damn shop, am so infuriated will have to face the humiliation of the staff looking at me with knowing eyes like they soooooo know what i did last night, If only they knew.</div><div><br /></div><div>I went to a fortune teller a few weeks ago, actually I stumbled across her quite by accident. She had quite a few things to say to me, some ridiculous, some incredibly accurate, some bizarre and some ........and some that are best left undisclosed, will definitely blog about it sometime.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm not in the habit of wearing 'lucky knickers' or lucky pants, but when you have been so unfortunate in love you tend to think that actually that might not be such a bad idea after all. Picture this hot sunny day, I stop at the traffic light, car purrs up on my left, decent Audi TT drop top, 2006 registration, heart stopping eye candy of a hunk at the wheel, he smiles at me and winks suggestively I smile back, he blows me a kiss, i think that's silly I laugh, I start playing within my hair (a sure sign that I'm probably interested, I pray for the traffic light to remain red just for a bit longer, he indicates that i should follow his car, and as he points to the left, horror of horror the hunk has on a wedding ring, I'm indignant, traffic lights turn green, he zooms off, I'm left wanting to follow him so that I can give him a piece of my mind...I decide against it, serves me right for flirting with random pervs at traffic lights, note to self, next time at the lights look straight ahead !!!!!!!!!</div></div>Miss Definitely Maybehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02812755876909158625noreply@blogger.com41tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002752152333675607.post-57270013272578967552008-11-03T00:10:00.006+00:002008-11-03T00:26:52.462+00:00Down on Bended knees<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqUbMe9CME8wndn9u2o-MuF7hx7evnvZcX0sOdEJ0xu9fyoUxvRJttkGhrv1GqzuaoxcDjb00iuHSc2Doeqpj2U7VCfj57-hVgRV7sFs1rhyphenhyphenN9qYWafEQXZ_z_SthIOvtX2xJFpRjZKZc/s1600-h/begging.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264221081684351906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 189px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqUbMe9CME8wndn9u2o-MuF7hx7evnvZcX0sOdEJ0xu9fyoUxvRJttkGhrv1GqzuaoxcDjb00iuHSc2Doeqpj2U7VCfj57-hVgRV7sFs1rhyphenhyphenN9qYWafEQXZ_z_SthIOvtX2xJFpRjZKZc/s200/begging.gif" border="0" /></a> "<em><span style="font-size:85%;">whatever I said, whatever I did, I didnt mean it, I just want you back for good, want you back, want you back, I want you back for good"</span></em><br />I don't remember who sang this song, but I cant help humming it as i type this post. I'm no relationship expert, certainly i have failed in that domain four times over and had it been a college course or a job I would have been permanently barred from the field due to incompetence. So you can understand why I would normally shy away from giving relationship advice. (I would normally point you in the direction of Shona or Afrobabe and leave them to the job). Okay back to my non expert advice...............listen carefully coz this will be my first and last bit of unsolicited advice......<br /><br />now if you are going to break up with someone and there is even a tiny bit of chance however remote that in the distant or not too distant future you might be begging that person to take you back, then <strong>PLEASE</strong> don't use phrases like 'ugly,' 'fcuking bitch', 'i never loved you', 'I was fcuking someone else all along', 'you were sh*t in bed', 'good riddance', or 'it was jus a fling,' in your break up vocabulary coz those kind of phrases do not enhance your prospects in any way when you go back to her/him down on bended knees grovelling for a second chance (with that girl or boy who according to you was a fat ugly fcuking bitch who you never loved as it was just a fling so that's why you were fcukiing someone else all along and its good riddance ). I would advice everyone to mind their break up language cause sooner or later you will definitely come back grovelling when you discover that the grass is indeed not greener on the other side......it rarely is.(90% of the time anyway according to my own biased inaccurate and totally unreliable research lol)<br /><br />anyway there is nothing as humiliating or as dehumanising as grovelling before someone who you called all sorts of names and swore that you would never ever want anything to do with even if they were the last woman on earth and the survival of mankind depended on it. Certainly talking from expirence its rather off putting to say the least. Case in point 'he whose name we do not speak' I found myself literally imprisoned at my own front door. dude was down on his knees, tears streaming down his face, grabbing at my feet, blocking the door so that I could not move, begging me to take him back. (seriously even the worst soap could not have written this into a script). I was trying to shut my door in his face, the poor guy was hanging on for dear life, had it been a movie it would have been comical to say the least starring Chris Rock , Adam Sandler or Jim Carey but trust me when its happening at your own front door there is nothing comical about it, all you wanna do is call the cops asap.<br /><br />I would have, had it not been so pathetic, gone was the over confident cocky dude cruising round in his two seater merc, Life post our breakup had not been kind to him and it showed in a number of ways (I wont waste your time going over them lol) Funny how tables turn, this was the very same guy who when I eventually took the hint and broke up with him swore he would never be back, that he didn't love me anyway blah blah blah and how I should hit the road running coz he didn't give a damn.....the irony of it all......guess u wouldn't blame me then for secretly humming eminem's 'guess whose back' under my breath. I felt vindicated in a way coz whilst I had realised that I could live without him and I could do so much better, he in turn had discovered that he couldn't live without me and i was his 'everything'. To cut a long story short, I shut my door in his face, that's one guy who is never coming within a mile of my heart again, i was done with him a long time ago.Someone else asked me to take him back but that's a story for another post(I'm on a roll this month guess its something in the northern chilly air lol).<br /><br />To take him back or not to take him back, that's a dilemma that faces each and everyone of us at some point in our lives. My theory is there are four different types of men who beg you to take them back.<br /><br />there is the <strong>genuine type, </strong>the dude who truly realised that he made a mistake by letting you go and genuinely wants another chance to make things right, to make it work. he will fight hard to have you back and when he succeeds makes damn sure he keeps you for good.<br /><br />there is the <strong>'got nothing better to do I'm bored type',</strong> he doesn't really want you back, but he has discovered that there is nothing interesting out there, or all the single ladies are not rushing out to date him like he thought they would, so after a few weeks or months of being dateless the novelty of being single starts to wear thin and he gets disillusioned and thinks I might as well just go back to good old faithful miss DM.<br /><br />the '<strong>spiteful type' </strong>this is probably the most popular type of guy. he doesn't want you back, but he doesn't want you to be happy either. So every time you start getting back on your feet, or have one or two guys genuinely interested in you and you are starting to contemplate going out with one of them, he reappears on the scene saying how much he wants you back blah blah blah and how he made a mistake, you take him back only for him to hurt you again, and when you eventually get back on your feet he reappears again, and the same thing keeps happening again and again.<br /><br />then there is <strong>Mr confuse your mind</strong>,you know the type that doesn't want you back but still wants to have sex with you. so he is kinda like blah blah lets take things slow and see how it goes. So you are not in a 'relationship' but you are sleeping together. he says he needs to sort his feelings out, figure out what he really wants but he loves you blah blah but funny how his d**k has no problem figuring out what it wants huh?So he confuses you, and you don't move on cause you are stuck in this halfway house in between being in a relationship and jus being sex buddies. 9 out of 10 times you later find out he has a new girlfriend on the side and get hurt again.<br /><br />Some say that you should never get back together again with a guy whose broken your heart coz you cant teach an old dog new tricks. Others say to err is human and to forgive is divine. I don't know if there is a right or wrong answer but I guess the secret to avoid being hurt again is to make sure that if ever he does come back on bended knees begging you to take him back, make sure that he is not bored, spiteful or jus trying to confuse your mind.Miss Definitely Maybehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02812755876909158625noreply@blogger.com33tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002752152333675607.post-15446732352234784332008-10-27T20:30:00.000+00:002008-10-27T21:34:39.003+00:00What The Fu*k!??!! (when love is not blind but ridiculously shortsighted)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCBjEE9y-_zXdw1hndvUXbCBfQGJCMKUeDpiqHFn4RHOkqXbP8yyZMkFoKAtI5PvWB5TvDIN7sYG2AI1Lbz3iCReXdzxVmXNjo0j9Q3auLdmTnf53fVa76Fb9bWNcqEqApejsFKgcSANA/s1600-h/dre0543l.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260409179967474946" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 264px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCBjEE9y-_zXdw1hndvUXbCBfQGJCMKUeDpiqHFn4RHOkqXbP8yyZMkFoKAtI5PvWB5TvDIN7sYG2AI1Lbz3iCReXdzxVmXNjo0j9Q3auLdmTnf53fVa76Fb9bWNcqEqApejsFKgcSANA/s320/dre0543l.jpg" border="0" /></a> Have you ever thought of, met, looked at a picture of, reminisced about an x boyfriend and thought What the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">fcuk</span> was i thinking dating this guy? You know, that point when your rose tinted glasses are broken/removed and you can see him clearly as the loser, jerk, lazy ass, serial cheater, violent thug, user , <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">chancer</span>, or good for nothing jobless sh*t that he was? Okay maybe nothing quite so drastic but you realise anyway many moons after the relationship is over that you definitely were shortchanging yourself in a number of ways and that you most certainly deserved and could do better? Well if you haven't, I have.<br /><br />Some of them x’s are dead funny, you can laugh it off as ‘I was young and foolish’ or I didn't know better, but some of them ain't so funny, when he gets arrested for rape , or you hear he beats up his wife or he now has 6 children from 5 different baby mamas, or he is dying of HIV or its ten years down the line (since you split up) and he still cant hold down a decent job or he spends 23 hrs at the local pub stone drunk or his doing time in jail for supplying class A narcotics, then you get goosebumps on your flesh <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">coz</span> suddenly you think OH MY <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">FCUKING</span> BALLS that could have been my husband!!!!!!! It is at that moment that you do your happy dance, breathe a sigh of relief or thank God for not always granting prayers and thank him for sometimes dragging us out of potential ‘fires’ or ‘frying pans’ even though we fervently prayed for him to let us be yoked to these potential frying pans till death do us part? Who knows, what type of lives we would be leading right now yoked to these <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">WTF</span> kind of dudes?<br /><br />Sometimes we are so eager to be with someone, to make things work simply because we 'love' them that we become ridiculously short sighted and live for the day forgetting to think realistically whether in reality you could actually spend the rest of your life with a man who is drunk every night or who cant hold down a steady job or who has been into bother with the law again and again. I don't believe that love is blind <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">coz</span> 97% of the times we are aware that he is a violent man, a drunkard, controlling etc but we just tend to brush it aside thinking he will change, its just a phase or its not really important......wait until you have three kids together who need getting fed and clothed and he spends all your income on booze or you are in the A and E night and day from the bruises that he will have given you and then you can tell me whether you still think its 'not important'. My aunt taught me something important, (not that I have always followed her advice) never date a man who you can never envisage as a potential reliable father to your 'children' Or rather do we foolishly believe that love conquers all whether that 'all' is drink, drugs, unemployment, irresponsibility, infidelity or recklessness? I must admit love does conquer some some things and some problems but when it comes to some of these problems that we expect 'love' to conquer.....hell even Napoleon's armies would be lucky to come out of the battle alive.<br /><br />Generally I am proud of my X’s, proud of who they are, what they have managed to achieve, and the possibility that by being in their life for a year or maybe two, I might have some how contributed positively to the successful man that they have become. However I do have an X that I wish I could discount when I'm tallying up my bedpost notches, the one that I would be too embarrassed to introduce to any of my current friends real virtual or even imaginary, the one that will always make me change direction when I see him coming, the one that i try by all means possible to refer to as an old friend instead of as one of my X’s. The one who gives me a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">WTF</span> moment every time I meet him, think of him, or see his picture.<br /><br />My <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">WTF</span> X boyfriend did not do anything quite as drastic as having 6 baby mamas, do time as a guest of Her Majesty’s prison service or get arrested for a sexual offence....his crime was failing to make something of himself....okay lemme explain a Lil bit before you label me shallow. We started dating I was 18 he was 19, first love first <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">fcuk</span> first kiss first everything, i loved him when he had nothing he loved me when I had nothing, he gets his first job as a cashier in Burger King I get mine as a support worker , 1 year down the line we still dating I get into law school he's still at the checkout in Burger King, a year later I'm in second year law school his still at the checkout in Burger King. A year later exactly 3 years since we started dating we split up nothing to do with him being at Burger King, a lot to do with him being violent and all but that's a story for another day.<br /><br />So roughly 4yrs since i knew him I got a law degree and he was still at burger King. To cut a long story short I go off to do my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">postgrad</span> studies and all and get a full time professional job dude is still at Burger King not even promoted to floor manager working with 16/17year <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">olds</span> a grown ass man aged 27 who has no ambition what so ever in his life (I have nothing against working at a fast food restaurant after all they to have corporate ladders that you can climb).<br /><br />So every time one of my mates walk into his branch of Burger King and see my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">WTF</span> dude there , they always make it a point to give me a ring to rub it in, making silly jokes like had i been married to him i would be entitled to free burgers or happy meals for nearly 9 years running and all i can think is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">WTF</span>......Okay i must admit though that there was a time i didn't feel this way, a time when I was seriously in love with him, a time that i wanted to spend the rest of my earthly life and my eternal one as well yoked to this guy........but that is way way way back in the past and as for now all I feel when I see him, think about him or am reminded of him is What the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Fcuk</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">WTF</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">WTF</span>!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!<br /><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">PS for the record (just so that i don't get hassled by the men in here,)am sure that there are <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">WTF</span> kind of girls out there too. </span></em>Miss Definitely Maybehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02812755876909158625noreply@blogger.com49tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4002752152333675607.post-27518507609898766512008-10-20T21:53:00.001+01:002008-10-20T21:55:31.995+01:00About a boy .......................<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF64kHbOQgzv1IpDxAcrCRW-e9KeTNRVyNTDdiIlaeFxzgCDXO7iLRzHD8t8XSUPe0zpAY0bAvRy1cIZToPirl3Ou0dDULhmQX4BGw2aV01_Y5-iQJP-9mkGTuQ61LF4fLyYBDF-5yHZo/s1600-h/GIRL_AND_BOY.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259339369544889682" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF64kHbOQgzv1IpDxAcrCRW-e9KeTNRVyNTDdiIlaeFxzgCDXO7iLRzHD8t8XSUPe0zpAY0bAvRy1cIZToPirl3Ou0dDULhmQX4BGw2aV01_Y5-iQJP-9mkGTuQ61LF4fLyYBDF-5yHZo/s320/GIRL_AND_BOY.jpg" border="0" /></a> I've met a boy<br />The cutest boy<br />and my knees went all wobbly and weak<br />I've met a boy<br />The sweetest man<br />and I want the whole world to know.....<br /><br />His smile is contagious<br />His laugh is infectious<br />Im smiling again<br />And laughing once more<br />and all because I've met a boy<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbO1Kaz1mCqbFdVgQaQ5EOS8_9pTXg25TRIZ5GFqEDH4rnHdnCb24IsYBtXlHv7Jb53K7mLSZJhn83hI-4U10ClDJf7CARPUvvaomMhDNGaiwDkhiFPoS9Ynz21jhow_JrYjIPjDod05I/s1600-h/GIRL_AND_BOY.jpg"></a>I love the way<br />he waves his dreadlocked head<br />and tosses his locks from side to side<br />his manly chest<br />so rippled and fit<br />gives me the goosebumps<br />I can no longer eat<br /><br />I love the way he says my name<br />he rolls the R's and drops the Es<br />His soapy romantic<br />I swear its a dream<br />he loved holding my hand<br />as we strolled through the park.<br /><br />I love the way he plays with my hair<br />and gives me piggy back rides<br />all the way from the park.<br /><br />I've connected with nature<br />got rainbows and moonlights<br />sunshine in my soul<br />I've got butterfly flutters in ma tummy<br />and ants in my pants<br />Im convinced Im a star<br />see my eyes sparkle<br />jus coz his here.<br /><br />I love the way my toes curl up<br />when he sings a song<br />strums an imiginary guitar<br />and does awkward impressions of Jojo the clown.<br />his funny<br />his silly<br />his just what I need<br />my first Aid box of sunshine<br />to heal me when blue<br /><br />he makes me coacoa with extra sugar<br />puts silly notes through the door<br />sends me postcards and candy<br />with his favourite sweets taken out!!<br /><br />he makes me laugh at the unfunniest jokes<br />and makes me blush the strangest of shades<br />his caramel lips<br />so tender and sweet<br />making me wish I could stand on tiptoe<br />and kiss them shut<br /><br />he reads me stories at bedtime<br />with endings made up<br />of princes and fairies and kissing a frog.<br />he draws all my curtains<br />and fluffs up my pillows<br />he would tuck me in bed<br />If only I would ask.<br /><br />I've met a boy<br />The cutest boy<br />and my knees went all wobbly and weak<br />I've met a boy<br />My perfect man<br />........ and yet I havent told him so. <br /><div>okay I wrote this three weeks ago, remember i told you i met a guy and promised to write about it ? well i tried to put into words what happened but i couldnt find the right words so instead I wrote a poem. I know you would probably want to know what happened next, but again can't really find the right words so wrote another poem just now.........</div><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">It should be so easy</span></strong><br />to say yes when he says be my woman<br />Not to pull away when he tries to hold my hand<br />To let him hug me for a few seconds longer, past the point of being jus friends..<br />It should be so easy<br />To let him love me like i deserve to be loved<br />To let myself go, give in to the passion, the love, the warmth,<br />It should be so easy<br />To let go of the past,<br />To let him be strong enough for me, emotionally, physically, spiritually<br />To trust that he will always be here<br />it could be so easy<br />new year, new start,new man,new beginnings<br />all i need to do is say yes<br />and yet<br />and yet I keep saying NO.<br />It should be so easy <br />But damn, Im finding it so hard.Miss Definitely Maybehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02812755876909158625noreply@blogger.com52