Song of the Week :)

The Man Translator

He says: I go out with my mates once a week
He means: I’m dating other woman

He says: I love lingerie
He means: Can I try on yours?

He says: I’m not looking for a serious relationship
He means: Wanna do it?

He says: I am not into sex before marriage
He means: I am gay, but humor me for the next few months

He says: I would love it if you meet my mother on the second date
He means: I am definitely gay, but cover me for a few months

He says: I'm not like other guys...

He means:I am exactly like all the other guys

He says: I love you

He means: My willy loves you.... (ok, only if he says it after a month!)

He says: I am only going out for one drink

He means: I will be back at 2 am, I will trip over the dog, pee in your orchid and hoover over your laptop....

He says: I still want us to be friends
He means: Booty call buddies?

He says: My career is my top priority
He means: I have a two inch penis

He says: your intelligence turns me on
He means: You are not that hot, but I can close my eyes and sleep with you

He says: I workout
He means: I love my body, can I show you?

He says: this is so special. Lets keep it between us
He means: If anyone finds out we are dating, I will die of embarrassment

He says: She has nothing to do with us
He means: I don’t think of you when I sleep with her

He says: Page me
He means: I am married

He says: Tell me more about your friend, Mark

He means: Have you slept with Mark?

He says: I'm dying, baby.

He means: I have a cold.

He says: I'm not ready for a long-term relationship

He means: I'm not ready for a long-term relationship unless the right girl comes along, and you aren't her.

He says: I think we should slow down
He means: Shit, I am falling in love

He says: It’s not you, it’s me
He means: It/s not you, it’s me….It’s me going off you

Dear Bitch in Law

Dear Bitch in Law

I wanted to tell you this for the last 5 years, you are fucking nuts, you need to chillax and get a life. I know you have been the only woman in your son’s life for as far as he can remember, but I am here now, you are getting old and saggy and need to step down from your high horse…or I am going to slap you off it. Your baby boy and I are extremely happy together, we love each other and I am doing the best I can to satisfy his needs. I have a lot of things you don’t have. My boobs are perky, my cellulite is invisible and I can do the reverse cow girl in bed. You don’t bring any of that to the table…and thank God for that, because that would be just wrong.

You always say insensitive things to hurt my feelings and you always do it as soon as he looks away, but when he is in the room or whatever, you turn into the sweetest little munchkin anyone can dream of! What is up with that?

You are a crazy bitch and your roots are growing out… you better put some color on those grays!

Love

Your (Future) Daughter in Law

xxx

Don’t get me wrong, not all mother in laws are from hell. I was lucky the last time around, my previous mother in law was an angel and I adored her, she respected (more than her son did) me and she treated me like her own daughter. When my grandmother past away, she sent me this text message paying her respects and ended it off with an “I love you” which I knew she meant. Unlike my other previous mother in law who only told me she loved me when she was drunk at the bar in their house. She would say she loved me the one minute and the next she would tell me I was a “bad breed” for her son. Now, I am not a dog, but I can be a bitch if I want to. I told her, her husband’s money clearly didn’t buy her any class as she was throwing up few minutes later while I was pulling her hair back. Don’t push my buttons. When I told my then-boyfriend, he didn’t believe me, but she did however apologize then next time she was drunk…And she cried…And then she said something else again. Ah bliss.

Some mommy in laws have so many issues, that you cannot bare to keep seeing your partner! But you torture yourself anyway just because you have to and because you keep trying yourself you are made out of cement.

In order to be a good (s)mother in law, you need to set some boundaries. You cannot replace your son or daughter in laws real mother! Don’t try! You will suck at it anyway, don’t give advise unless you are asked. It’s annoying.

I have come to a conclusion. You get different types of mother in laws and you get the different genres.

The first one is the Mother in law who have daughters and sons. They are less evil. Depending on whether you are dating the son or the daughter. Because when they have daughters, they tend to understand the role of the girlfriend better once she enters the son’s life. My own mother is a great example. I am sure my brother’s fiancé has nothing bad to say about her, because they hang out all the time and my mother treasures her and loves her almost as much as she loves me…

Then you get the Mother in law with just boys. They are the worst! They are used to being the only woman in their lives for 18 years and by the time a chick enters the picture, it’s like all hell broke loose! They are used to attention and they are constantly competing with you. They throw in their stupid opinions on anything and they always want to do the things that you want to do. For instance decorating your man’s apartment, they just jump in there with their bad style and screw it up. For instance, I wanted these blue sofa cushions for his couch. She wanted these embroider crap. I mean, really, your son is not gay. They tend to always, in a very subtle way, break you down.

Then you get the only child mother in law. Now, I have never been with a guy without siblings. So I can’t really say anything about them. But some of my friends have been with numerous only child men and the stories I have heard, would defiantly not change my mind for going out with an only child. Watch Monster In Law.

You get the control freaks. A friend of mine got married recently. She almost called off the wedding, because her Mother in law took over ALL the arrangements. It was HER wedding, so to say.  A control freak mother in law always pitch up at your house uninvited, she goes through your mail, she tells your partner what to do ALL THE TIME. She literally finds things to pick at. She tells you that you picked up weight and she tells you how to lose it, but in the meanwhile she took gravity to a whole new level. If you look at the bigger picture, you will see that she is actually just a bored housewife with nothing better to do. So having a control freak smother in law, is not as bad as most cases. Let her get away with it. Ignore it.

The hypocrite and banana … Whether you have a sense of humor or if you are just a sensitive being, it’s not great to be put down or insulted all the time. I actually dated a guy who’s whole family gunned me for being a model. They all thought they were so f*ing smart, it was just annoying. They always made a joke of it. I once spent a whole month away with them. I remember the day I got on the airplane back to my home town, I switched my phone off for 2 days. I was emotionally so exhausted. My confidence was way below the line and I also became a person I was not, just to please them. I was in auto pilot mode. I don’t think I ever recovered after that summer. As soon as I switched the phone on again I got a whole lot of apology messages. But it was too late.  It’s harder than it looks to crack this one. Take this as an example “Dude, seriously, stop telling me my ass is bigger after the baby,” gets a “Ag, don’t be so sensitive.” In my case, I just refused to go to family events. Eventually it drove me and the guy apart and when we almost got back together, the first con that came to mind was “Oh, fuck, the family.” Pass…

The Perfectionist. YOU WILL NEVER BE GOOD ENOUGH!

Your hair is ugly, your food is bland, your tits are too fake (even though they are real) and you will just never make the bloody cut. This usually is an Only-Child-Smother or an Only-Boys-Smother. She hates all your flaws and she gladly points them out, even if they aren’t faults. She compares everything to her ways. Sometimes you get silent perfectionists. But they tend to just blab how imperfect you are behind your back.

Her OCD (According to her CDO, its same as OCD, but in alphabetical order, the way it should be) is so bad and you are a nervous wreck whenever she is near. Only thing to do here is relax. And when she says something reply with “oh your son loves it” or “it turns your little boy on.” Enough said.

The Patient. This one is always sick and there is ALWAYS something wrong. She constantly feels sorry for herself to ace her lil boy’s attention back. The doctor doesn’t know what is wrong. But you know. She is just plain mental. Thinking herself sick. You get a lot of sister-in-laws like this too. I have seen it. But at the end of the day it is a attention seeking regime. Ignore it or sympathize, doesn’t matter, it’s a habit that she will never get over anyway.

The gossiper. They talk shit all the time! She talks so much shit, you know that she obviously talks shit to other people about you too. It’s common sense.  These are usually housewives with nothing better to do. My home town are filled with them. They are like poison ivy. Best thing to do is to lead the conversation. As soon as she says something hinting into a skinner, lead the conversation to another topic. Interrupt her. Never gossip with her. Ever. It will suck you in.

Then the Dramatic attention seekers. Something horrible happened to her….And the day before and every other day of her life. She walked through her life with so many battle scars and so many stories. No one has faced more challenges than her. No one would dare to challenge her because she would out shadow you in seconds. It’s your birthday party dinner and she will burst into tears because she feels old. When your man gets a promotion at work or whatever, she would boast about her position at one or other company. When you go through a rough time, she will suddenly bring up the story of her giving birth to her 5 kids and that you should harden the fuck up. And everything is always about her. Her life is a friggen TV series, always something happening. Everyone is out to get her. She and her sorry ass just have it soooo bad. She loves the limelight. Solution: Tell her to write a biography. Or you could always respond to a different story going on in the room instead of listening to her rambling. This will keep her off your case for a while.

The Former Lover’s best friend. She talks about the ex. She tells you how much she hates her even…. In my case, the last guy I saw hated his ex so much that I recently found out he is still in love with her. Ah bliss… I must admit, it was obvious. All guys have a past. And you have to come to terms with it, as he must do the same for you. But to friggen hear about her all the time is just so exhausting. To be compared to her all the time is stupid. Even though you are made out to be an upgrade from her, it still pisses you off to hear her name in every conversation. Some Smothers are even still friends with the ex girlfriends. You might walk in on them having tea and crumpets. Sometimes you even feel like second choice. But at the end of the day, you are your man’s first choice and if you stick around longer than the ex have, pretty soon she will become history.

The Clasp. Hate these. I have always dated Mommy’s boys. I kind of attract them for some reason. She calls him 5 times a day, she tries to make every decision for him. She wants to know everything and he stupidly tells her everything. The whole relationship is just a problem all in all. You constantly feel like an intruder in their relationship. Eventually you will marry the guy and then you are going to have to take care of him the way his mother did, while she still intrudes.  Unless you can teach her some boundaries, which will obviously take time, there is no hope. Move on. Or you can talk to your man and promise him sexual favors for every time he ignores a phone call. Might work.

What is the difference between outlaws and in-laws? Outlaws are Wanted. It all comes down to one conclusion. If you can’t beat them… Don’t ever become them. It’s never going to get better. So best just blog about it and hope she never reads it....

Quitting Smoking for the 40th Something Time

For probably the 40th time in my life, I am attempting quitting smoking. I would actually lie if I said 40th time, because for the last 8 years of my life, I tried to quit every day! But I always had an excuse not to do so.

I tried every bloody trick on the market.

I read every “Quit Smoking” book and I watched every damn DVD.

I went to exhibitions and saw those black lungs one too many times and it didn’t faze me at all. I just lit up as soon as I left the building.

I even had mouth sprays and an ashtray that looked like lungs! Every time I would ash in the thing, it would cough back at me!

I started researching drugs for my new novel and in one of the books, the sentence “don’t let a substance rule your life” caught my eye. I thought about it and I thought that it was pretty sad of me to let a little stick of shit control me the way it does.

Smoking almost screwed up my relationship with my ex boyfriend (the break up was not because of the smoking fyi). Not only did he hate it, but he would have been able to live with the fact that I kept on smoking, he didn’t like it, but he loved me. But the thing that pissed him off, was on my 35th attempt to quit smoking, I promised him I was done. I went for 3 weeks without smoking. Then I started again! And I lied to him about it. I told him I was clean. And I wasn’t. I was smoking more than before. So smoking made me lie to the one I loved. This sadly must have seemed to him that I loved smoking more than I loved him. This cannot be true! So, not only did I want to show myself that I can do it, but part of me is also did it for him. But I mainly did it for myself! I have learnt that doing it for someone else, just does not work. It is a f*ck up. It’s way too much pressure and it is not a good enough reason for your health….you need to do it for yourself.

Damn, I have read one too many “Quit Smoking” book… I kind of sound like one of the authors…

I thought about going on medication, but my Doc said that on 23% of the people on the drug, actually quits smoking. So, it didn’t really get me excited. Zyban works for some people and for others it doesn’t. I also heard a rumour that some people actually go crazy. Like completely ga-ga. Once, a girl on an aeroplane told me that she got so crazy, she accused her boyfriend of having an affair with her mother. She knew that it was an insane idea, but at the time while she was on Zyban, she didn’t really think it was impossible. Then again, in the USA, anything is possible… Back to Zyban, I thought I was going to be one of those 23% people, but instead of buying the meds when I got my paycheque, I bought myself a carton of Dunhill Finecuts. Sad, I know, it happens to the worst of us.

So, the other day I was standing in line at Pick and Pay Supermarket, wanting to buy a pack of cancer, and this old lady stood in front of me. I thought she was going to buy a lottery ticket, but she bought 3 cartons of smokes!

When she turned around I almost screamed like a little girl who stepped in dog sh!t.

She had a paper bag kind of skin, it looked so hard and disgusting. She was old and saggy and she looked like shit. I don’t know if you saw the film “Drag me to Hell”, but her skin was like that ladies skin! Thank God, she didn’t have the teeth (yet), but I am sure she had some of that yellow flem in her throat from all the puffing. Shame, but there is no f*cking way, I am going to let my future hubby look like a teenager when he is 40 and I look like Grandmazilla, over here… No way.
I still bought a pack of cigarettes, though. And I smoked it.

I kept on setting up deadlines. And I always had an excuse the day came I had to quit cold turkey. Again and again and again.

Then last week I woke up to the sound of a weird noise.

My breathing sounded like some f*cked up demon possessed person in a horror movie.

It was the most horrible feeling I ever had. I had slime on my chest and it disgusted me. I felt claustrophobic. I was walking all day half gagging around the house. I kind of grossed myself out.

I forced myself to smoke a cigarette and it tasted like shit.

I, who love to smoke, actually didn’t like the taste of the cigarette anymore. It was so gross!

I don't know how it happened, but without trying to quit smoking, my body made the decision for me, by quitting. I don’t know why and why now, but this whole passing week, I couldn’t get myself to pick up a cigarette and smoke it. I tried several times, but then I wanted to throw up.

The thing is, I want to quit, I just always waited for tomorrow, but tomorrow is always too late, when it comes too lighting up.

Reason I am writing this is, I believe I will feel like shit if I lie to everyone’s computer screens, by starting up again! And maybe I can help someone who is also trying to quit… Who knows, maybe I will become famous now….

Talk, Text, IM And No Action….

What happened to the good old days, when boy meets girl. Boy goes up to Girl and ask her on a date, acting all nervous. Girl says yes. It is in Boys nature to go pick Girl up at home, If she does still live with Folks, he goes in and meet Dad, shake his hand. Dad freaks him out a bit, by saying things he will do to Boy if he fucks Girl around. Boy takes Girl out, they have a great time, getting to know each other, for the first time really. Boy takes girl home and if they like each other, they make out at the door and Girl closes the door behind herself.

 I know it sounds retro and all, but damn, those were the good old days, even if I never experienced it myself. The reason I didn’t experience that time: In 1983 the Motorola markets created the first portable cellular phone for consumers (weighing in at twenty-eight ounces). This little breakthrough opened up the possibility for the first mobile booty calls.

Yes, I blame cell phones for this crazy world of love today. It’s hard to explain why. But it is hard to have a good relationship. I personally feel phones and technology takes the spark away between two people, cos you tend to get each other all wrong. But on mxit, you get emoticons, which helps a bit.

I was in a Relationship with a guy for a while. I won’t mention his name again, cos I seem to use him for a lot of examples (now you all know who I am talking about). The first night we met, I thought he was a moron and didn’t give him my number, 5 months later we run into each other, and I still thought he was a moron. (And a matter of fact, I still think he is one today)…Back to the story. So he asked me again for my number. I refused to give it to him. I thought, ok, Buster, I am listed in the telephone book if you want to find me, go look me up. Show me some effort. To my surprise, a couple of tequilas down the throat, I was tipsy, in Springbok (Stellenbosch), dancing with a pole with my Winnie the Pooh T-shirt and a short denim skirt and of course my cowboy boots (call the fashion police)…oh and did I mention a Sarita (the best cider in the world at that time, I am now a sophisticated red wine sipper) in the hand, which isn’t the kind of drink that would make you all lazy and drunk….it makes you happy and drunk…I was having the best time singing along with Fall Out Boy, acting all crazy, as I am known for. So He walks into the bar. He had been following me to every place I went to. Cornered me and asked me again for my number, which I refused to give him and left him and his long face standing in the corner with his Cane and Coke…Sad….I went off to play a game of pool with my mate, and he came over to watch me play, which was nerve wrecking since I have NO ball sense. But my 5 lucky cows licks helped me out….hehe…He told me that I should come find him after the game, since he could see that he has a lot of competing to do with the other bloke, which wasn’t true really. But I made it look like it was. And obviously I didn’t go off to find him, I found another Sarita and I found the pole…(I am not a stripper, I don’t show my panties, I just hold onto the pole for stability and when you are a student you think it is funny). When I walked out on my way home, I was cornered once again by Him. He asked my best mate for my number, she gave him hers, for some drunken reason or arrangement to get mine, but I gave up. I just gave him my fucking number, since my whole plan was clearly not going to work. I laid down my rules of dating men, by stating, he comes pick me up at my house, meet my dad, take me to dinner and take me home. If I like him, I will peck him and he gets a second date…the other date rules come later. He was convinced I will marry him by the fifth date…

So the whole, I mean like in the whole, week, he texts me. I got one phone call. We sort of got to know each other through the text messages. I knew that his favorite TV channel was Cartoon network, he drove a Black Rav 4, he is a closet hermit (It sounds gay,  but he told me that he was one), he had 2 brothers, he is 2.1 meters, he loves rugby, he thinks that I will make a great mother for his children one day, blah blah….Now, I found this out before our first date! We have only met twice before! Dancing in FTV one night with each other, and the other time in Stellenbosch. We didn’t talk much and we haven’t even kissed. He knew that I was addicted to American idol and loved Simon, always bought Wacky Wednesday  Specials from Steers, and I don’t know what else he knows, but I am sure he knows a bit.

Obviously the text messages were flirty as well, him saying he cant wait to see me, and when were our first date gonna be, what am I wearing (flannel pj’s), he bets I make flannels look sexy (how cheesy), etc. By the time we had our first date, we were so shy actually, for knowing all that from each other. We didn’t last longer than a month. I told him that I thought that our relationship needed more physical action, than talk/text and no action.

First dates are there to get to know each other in the flesh. But instead we mxit at night and text like mad. We over share things that only need to be known when you are face to face.

It is in a girls nature these days, to have your phone with you, checking if he has called, thinking if you should say ‘hi’, or whatever. But the secret is, even from the golden days, girls are never supposed to phone, or in fact ladies don’t phone So I guess we are all ho’s…haha…No, but it is the right thing to do, Don’t call. It is a man’s job.

In the golden days, it was hard for a guy to go up to a girl and ask her out on a date. Why did God decide to make it easier for men to ask woman out. Why did He make man so intelligent to create technology, too make it easier for men to ask out woman…Today if Boy wants to ask out Woman, he emails her “Hey, How you doing (In the Joey from friends accent, do note), how bout dinner tonight.”

Ok, clearly there is no other way to ask a girl out, these days, but I must say, and I think most women will agree with me, that a man that phones, will get a “yes” more easily. It shows us that he have the guts. It is easy for a boy to text a chick and ask her out, and if she says ‘no’, his ego won’t be that scarred. If you want to ask a girl out, yes you do ask for her number, but challenge yourself, and ask her “Hey, can I take you out to dinner sometime?” before you take her number, it will show her you have guts and you will get lots of respect. The only reason you should have her number is to confirm the date, and to phone her afterwards. But if you have difficulties in asking her out, phone her instead of texting, cos it cost more money and it is more respectable…

Ask yourself this question, “How did people hook up with no Cell phones?” Unless you were there to experience it firsthand, pre-cell phone hooking up remains an unsolved mystery that is tainted by outlandish theories(For instance, maybe the guy had to climb into his snazzy little car, and call you from his R200-per-minute car phone) The bottom line is that if we didn’t have these instant forms of communication (like text messages, mxit and IM), just hooking up with someone would be dating, because you you’d actually have to put more than just minimal effort into making something happen.

Today:

1. Text messaging is the new phone call

2. IM is the new face to face conversation (if you have a web cam, then it is a bonus)

3. Caller id is the new *69 ( Which is not Foolproof, because his/her Caller ID will pretty much give you away every time. Just remember the motto: Straight to voicemail, you’re in luck; if it rings even once, you are fucked.)

Cell phones are running our lives. To some people it is ruining love lives. To some of you it is ruining non-existent love lives, which I am guilty of, but I choose to not have one, not because I am miserable, I just love the power it gives me. I love being unavailable, even if I am sooooo available…I wont tell you why but I have a damn good reason.* (I am not available anymore)

If we didn’t have cell phones, guys would ask you out face to face, you wont have to stare at your cell phones hoping he would phone or text. And the cool thing is, if he does phone he will phone you on the land line at night. Just like in the good old days.

And another thing is Cell phones are tempting. Me and my Girl Friends, tend to text guys just because we are bored and love sick….Which shouldn’t be done at all. It is silly. Cos a lot of times, guys don’t tend to text back at all, they ignore. But I must tell you, it irritates the shit out of me as well, when a guy text me the whole damn time. When I was dating the moron that you read about earlier, I would start laughing sometimes, picturing a 2.1 meter boy, sitting with his little cell phone, texting me. It is a funny image to me.

One sms leads to another, and soon after that you will see you sent each other 40 sms’s. While a telephone call, would have lasted 10 minutes (that is the amount of time it should last when you are in the early stages of dating or just about to start). When you communicate through all the technology of today, people can get the wrong impression, and we tend to be very daring, flirting too much and saying too much in texts, while when you are face to face, you bring out the real you.

I’ll say it one more time, to finish off my thought: If a Guy asks a girl out, it shows her that he have the guts, but when he texts, and she says no, there is not much harm done to his ego, which is cowardly.  And since it is hard to do it that way these days, before you take her number, ask her out, and just use the number as a date confirmation. It will do you more justice.

Real Men Phone, and that is actually my point…When I say real Men, I mean it, cos Boys text….But if you are just friends it is fine, but If you expect a date, up your telephone bills. It’s time to bring old school back...

I forgot to mention, what is up with all the breakup smses these days! Not cool guys, break ups are supposed to be passionate and screaming and not “it’s nt u, its me, u dnt do it anymre, dnt call me, ur mother is a milf, btw….l8erz, Max :p” I mean come on….(no I did not receive an sms like this in my life, it was just how I pictured my mate being dumped). You won’t be getting possible break up sex this way, so go the old school way, there is still a chance for a last play date.

Bitchzilla

Sitting in front of my laptop...Yes, I should write something, I have the motivation, but my brain is running on empty.

In front of me on my desk, my wooden canvas stares at me with its unfinished painting and next to me in my beading suitcase is numerous orders on jewelry to be made. Oh, and the guitar my dad bought me, after I begged for one on a night after too much wine. So I got one. And now I cant find time to practice and play.

I have ten million series still to watch, but I don't mind saving it for a rainy day. I mean, I always wish it wouldn't end at all, half way through viewing it. I have absolutely nothing to write about, not even a blog on my day.

So. Um. 

How are you today?

Are you battling with a spotless mind as well?

I have been reading through all my pointless pieces of blogging from over the years, but i don't really want to post them on here, since I want a fresh start. However, I came across a piece I wrote one night when I was furious, hurt, angry and fucking pissed off, so i thought I would post some of it on here.

However, I will be changing some of the stuff and cutting parts out (and adding in 1 or 2 popular things of today), I don't want to make it obvious to the person I wrote it for, as we are on good terms now, but I think if she knew my feelings back then, she would just hate me again, but the piece was pretty entertaining for my brother to read, so maybe you will enjoy it too.

Let me know what you think, ok!?

Bitchzilla

I am weak. I see that now. I hate conflict and I am always the one apologizing, even though I am not always wrong (And no, I don't believe that I am always right).However, when I am wrong, I do feel terrible and I do take responsibility for my actions.

People have hurt me many times before and to be honest, I am starting to morph into a closet hermit. I tend to forgive and forget as soon as my song of the moment blasts on MTV. I can’t help it. I have a really big heart and I accept the fact that people make mistakes and everyone is only human.

In other words, I really don’t think I am a person you can hate easily. I really make an effort and I really love people. Right?

But overall, I admit, I can be a bit of a people pleaser to people who don't really deserve it and I sometimes get the impression I might come across as a doormat.

But I have this problem. A bitch of a problem, to be exact.

There is one person in this world who despises me more than I despise sci-fi movies (Avatar does not count, since it is more fantasy based) and baked beans. And the sad thing is, this used to be a close friend. A friend I introduced to the love of her life, a friend whom I gave advise to when she wanted to pop her cherry, a friend who used to sit with me when my heart ached and I needed someone. I can’t believe this person whom I once enjoyed so much could turn into such a monster…fucking Bitchzilla.

This certain person recently blabbed a rumor about met to people I really care about . She even blabbed secrets that was told to her in confidence, risking my relationship with my boyfriend, who is actually the man I want to spend the rest of my life with and who already knows everything about me, including that I am an undercover spy who saves the world from...

Anyway, back to the story, I remember the day my boyfriend phoned me, it sounded like his pet fish died…

Or his dog.

He couldn’t believe that the horrible thing he heard about me could be true.

Of course he phoned me to confirm it, even though he knew deep down I would never lie to him about anything like that.(I occasionally lie about the fact that there is garlic in the pasta since he hates it, but if he doesn't know, he loves it without complaint)

I told him that this utter lie was horse shit and we were fine. I mean I would do exactly the same if I heard something like that about him! Even though I trust he would never hurt me.

Now my problem is, I have this little short Greek temper, that comes from my ancestors. I tend to act before I think and I will blow a gasket the way your mother did when she gave birth to you and when she caught you smoking pot for the first time. I will confront you and shout at you and I will make you feel smaller than Tinkerbell without her wings…and then I will apologize for hurting your feelings 5 minutes later. I will forgive you. I will give you a chance to explain yourself and I will trust that you won’t hurt me again. I will give you a second chance…Don’t fuck it up! And trust me, It takes a lot to make me angry...Except for bad drivers, they trigger my road rage and ask anyone who has driven with me, I admit that I am a really rude person in the car if you drive shit...I get road rage almost every day.

So when I confronted this person (if I can call this cold blooded creature a person) about how dishonest she was and how sad it is that she would even find the time to try and turn my life upside down in front of people I actually care about, she bluntly denied that she ever spoke such shit about me. Which I knew, deep down was a lie, but I let it go, thinking she would watch her steps and actually grow up and learn from her mistake, I mean I am 23 years old and so is she, how come she cant grow up the same way I did? Thanks Mom for bringing me up the way you did and teaching me things a lady should know…

So, anyway the bitch gets a second chance…

Big Mistake.

So, Little Miss Gossip Girl turns to Little Miss Goody-2-shoes, while I am looking, but the sneaky bitch carries on talking shit about me to everyone as soon as I take a smoke break, thinking I wouldn’t find out.

I keep my cool and I keep quiet. I haven’t done anything wrong, I haven’t told anyone any of her secrets that I swore to keep, even though she told mine and lied about it by blowing it waaaaaaaay out of proportion, just because I am actually mature and have respect for any asshole in this world.  See, I aint that bad :)

Meanwhile, I try to help the people I am surrounded by and who is caught in the middle, by helping them organizing their lives, rearranging things, booking appointments wadda, wadda. 

Meanwhile back at the ranch, the bitch is plotting her next attack on trying to destroy my life. Shame.

So, now she has a problem with me being the star child and she's not. I mean, she did study acting for 500 years and she still hasn’t made it, so I can understand the feeling, but we are complete opposites, we don’t look anything alike….To be honest I don’t understand this vendetta she has, if she hates me so much for actually having a carreer that she wants, then I should hate my best friend, who is a supermodel, for jet setting across the world with her modeling carreer. And I don’t, We have the same brown hair, the same bambi eyes, she just looks more like a super model than me, but the point is, I have never been happier to see a friend make a success of her life as I am for my hot supermodel friend. And I am not even a tad jealous of her…ok, I would love to do the jobs she has, I admit, but I am not going to make her life difficult and hurt her in ways that is unforgivable. So cut the crap, dammit and start using your brain and skills, and I am where I am because I am using it and I am working hard to be here and trust me, I am battling to keep my head above water!

I want to say that I have forgiven her, but i haven't forgotten. My mother always told me, if you don't forget, you haven't forgiven. But the thing is, I want to, I just honestly don't know how.

June 2009

Sneak Peak: Chapter 2: What the Fuck was I thinking -Jimmy-

Just a little sneak preview of Jimmy the Sex Addict in my Novel :) 
It is not for SENSITIVE READERS!!!!!!!!! So if you cant take swearing and crudeness, please don't read it! This is purely from the mind of a sex addict and based on reality. I am not going to down scale it to be sweet and innocent!
Here goes:

“Hey Baby, want to fuck?” I asked the blonde girl by the bar.
She looked up at me. Her Bambi eyes shocked with horror. “Go to hell, asshole!” she shouted as she grabbed her bag off the counter and moved away from me, vanishing into the crowd. Geeze, what a bitch.
Ok, well it was worth a try.
Ok, who’s next?
I look around the tavern. There is a group of girls playing pool. No boys around. I should get something here tonight. This place is a hell hole. I bet all the girls here are horny. I even bet they all come with a special package deal, like a STD of some sort, but I am sure that my condoms are strong enough.
I down my whiskey one shot and move over to the pool table where all the girls are, acting all sexy. Their little bums swaying as they aim for e ball…I wonder if they will sway it that way if they aim for my balls. I would love to see those tight asses in some silk stockings.
I feel my erection press against my jeans.
The girl with dark hair looks like an easy target. She is wearing a low cut top and her tits are basically jumping out calling my name with every footstep I give. She is bound to be horny, just like me. Otherwise she wouldn’t dress that cheaply. Even thought he blonde looks easier, I’d rather up my standards and aim for the gold. If she bats my ass, I can always downgrade.
I walk over to the table and lean against the wooden panel. I wait for her turn. I then walk over to her and lean onto her back, grabbing her ass and pressing myself against her so that she can feel my hard-on. She turns around and looked at me in surprise. For a moment I thought she was going to pull into me, but instead she takes her pool stick and hits me hard across the face. I instantly see stars. But I still have an erection.
“I love a woman who can dominate,” I say and smile stupidly at her.
“Fucking pervert,” she shouts and just as the previous girl darts out the door. Everyone in the tavern is staring at me. I walk up to the bar to get another drink.
“Can I have a blowjob?” I ask the bar lady.
She poured me a shot and moved it over to me, “You know Jimmy, one of these days you are going to get fucked up so badly you are not going to wake up next morning.”
“That’s not so bad, depending on what kind of fucked you are taking about…If it is the fucking up as in, beating me with a chair or a mean fist, I would look at the Brightside of having wet dreams for the rest of eternity.
She roles her eyes, just like many times before, “I am serious, Jimmy, you better watch it, man,” Isla gave me a stern look and then attended to the next costumer.
“Isla, would you sleep with me tonight?” I asked her casually.
“You know Billy would beat you up if he knew you were even at this bar talking to me.”
Great, wont be getting any action tonight. Might as well just go home and watch porn and jerk off. I check my jeans pocket to see if I have enough money for a Penthouse.
I say goodbye to Isla and head out the door.
I light up a cigarette as I walk down the road towards the closest adult shop.
I am Jimmy. I am 29 years old and I am married with 2 kids. Not for long though. My wife is currently in the hospital getting surgery done to remove her cervix. And I am the cause of it. Meanwhile, the divorce papers are ready and waiting for me at home. And I would probably loose custody of my 2 kids as well. Heather would make sure of that. She says that I deserved it, but I don’t really agree with it. I have neglected my kids and I have fucked my wife into surgery. If I wasn’t able to have sex with her, I would go to bars and find anew girl to bang all night and sometimes in the morning before I let her go. On nights like tonight, I would head home and fuck a porn magazine and if the pages are sticking to each other, I would fuck the TV.
I have the biggest porn collection the world has seen. And the sad thing is I prefer not to look at it. I love to collect it, but I feel disgusted after I watched it. I don’t like that feeling, but I like to have my stash in the basement in case of emergency.
I have been at this obsession since the age of 11. Whenever my folks would bust me, I would lie and say I peed my pants.
I only lost my virginity the night of my wedding only. I never had sex before then. I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to stop.
My years of adolescence existed from playboy, hustler and low budget porn. I have been collecting since I was 16. I have every issue from Student Sluts to Mom’s I’d like to Fuck.
Before I could get away with buying porn magazines, I used to steal them from my dad and my uncles and anyone my parents would go visit. I would snoop around until I find something. Its weird to find my grandfathers porn collection, he had some nasty shit! But I boys would be boys. If you cant beat them, join them.
My wife couldn’t open her legs after a month of marriage, so I went to a brothel for the first time. I don’t remember the name of my first prostitute, but she was pretty good.
After Heather and My first daughter, Kaylee, was born, I got less and less action from my wife. I wont be lying if I tell you the next time we had sex we conceived Layla.
No, I didn’t go insane. I was fine. I had my library of porn and I had my video (which later became a DVD) collection. And of course I had the brothels. And the business trips which gave me the excuse to bang whoever I could find in a foreign country.
I didn’t feel bad for cheating on y wife. I had needs and I needed to satisfy them, or I would become severely depressed.
But I am not much better now. I am more than a wreck I was before. I have my regrets, but I cant do anything about it.
I have been to numerous SAA meetings and after a week a fail. I have been to see a Psychologist and Heather and I have been to couple counseling.
I completed the 12 step course that was held by a church near by…11 times. It would only help for a month or a few weeks. Then I would be back to my old ways. One slip up. I was the only one who failed at restraining myself. I never saw the same faces at meetings. I was the only regular. It was scary to see all those ordinary people surrounding me…all living ordinary, normal lives, yet all were haunted by a dark depressing secret.
I read the “White Book” several times. A book written for people with my condition. A reference manual. I was identified in every word of the book. I was described over and over again. I tried to go to numerous different meetings. Once I went to 3 different sex addict groups so that I would get 3 times the counseling a week. It did not work the first time, so I didn’t attempt it again.
I had a sponsor who looked out for me. Every time I would have the urge to bring up my boner, I would call him and he would be over in an instant.
There was a time that it went so bad, Heather had to take the girls up with her to her mother's. I couldn’t control myself and I was afraid that might hurt her or force myself onto her without her permission. So I sent her away. Running. I got better a while later and it was safe for her to return. It went fine for a couple of months and then I was back to my old ways. I was so embarrassed. I had to hide it from her, I even tried to hide it from my self. But I could not hide the disappointment.
I went back to another meeting. Once again, every one in my group got better and I just got worse. I had no hope. I still have no hope. I am fucked.
Heather tried to be supportive. She really did. Any wife would want to make love to her husband. She couldn’t, because if she did, I would not be able to stop. She felt hopeless. There was a time she felt so hopeless, she even told me I was allowed to screw other woman. She said as long as I used protection, she won’t be able to judge me. She tried her best to satisfy me, but it as not enough. We have gone from role play to dominating. She couldn’t give in to the threesome thing, but I told her that it wasn’t a solution t the problem anyway. It didn’t keep me from finding it elsewhere. I did. And I was right, it just made me worse. I really tried hard to save my marriage. I would hold my breath when a woman walks past me so that I won’t smell her perfume. If a woman would walk up to me wearing a low cut top, I would instantly change direction. If I would lay in bed at night I would clench my teeth in order to not jump on Heather to hump her like a buster dog.
I would jerk off approximately 7 times a night. When I got ho from work. Right before dinner. Right after dinner, in the shower, while working on the computer I would peak on a porn site for a few minutes, when I watch an action movie, before I go to bed and when I wake up to make a midnight wiz. Ok that is 8 times. Heather was happier and could reconstruct her vagina, I only got sex 3 times a week. Which was fine by me. I stopped sleeping around and I worked on my marriage and I tried to be a better father.
Heather got pregnant again, but 10 weeks into the pregnancy, she had a miscarriage. I knew it would have been a boy. I feared it. I didn’t want my son to have a possibility to inherit my illness. I still pray to God that my daughters wont inherit it either, but it is not likely to happen. I was sad when we lost the baby, but in a sense also relieved.
I don’t want anyone to go through what I am going through. It might sound all fun and games but it is really one of the hardest things to go through. I am sick. I need help, But no one can help me.
Heather was seeing a therapist and was on medication just to cope. Every time I told her to leave me, she would say no, she married me and she made a promise to God. I tried to think what she might have felt like and what she was going through. I did a pretty good job. I was hoping that it would help me change. But it didn’t.
Finally Heather gave up and left again with the kids. I knew she wouldn’t be able to do it much longer, since the kids were growing up and my illness was going to get to them too. They would want to know why mommy an daddy spent so much time apart. I was wrecking my kids.
I want to fuck anything that has a hole in it. I would even fuck another man if I cant find anything else. And I am not gay. I know if the day comes that I am so horny and I cant find a female to score, I would take a manly piece of ass. And I also know I would regret it afterwards. Just like I regret being horny 24/7.
I have lost everything that was important to me.
Here I am trapped in a body of a sexaholic. This is not who I want to be.
This illness has interfered with my life in a bad way. It has interfered with my career, my marriage, my fatherhood, my youth…absolutely everything I have experienced in my life was based on sex. Any kind of sex I could find.
And I have reached the highest level yet.
I am probably going to fuck myself to death.
My wife is in hospital having a genital operation because of me. I don’t blame her for wanting a divorce. I don’t blame her for not wanting a man to ever touch her in her life. I just feel horribly guilty for changing the person she is. I love my wife and it kills me to see how I have fucked her up. Literally and mentally.
To make matters worse. When I got the divorce papers 4 months ago. I started drinking. Excessively. I thought that if I drank myself to sleep, I might be able to replace one addiction with another. It didn’t help. Now I am well on the way of being both. Alcoholic and Sexaholic. Nice. Sure my mother would have been proud.
I enter the Adult Bookstore. 
Turn around and walk out, Jimmy.
I walk to the isle with the hard core porn mags. 
Don’t do it Jimmy.
I pick up the most vile one I could see. 
God Dammit, Put it back down, Jimmy.
I walk to the counter, grab a bottle of lube. 
What, are you 12, Jimmy?
I pull out the money from my jeans and hand it to the cashier. 
Remember there is no milk in the fridge, Jimmy.
He hands me the bag with my purchase. 
Ask for an refund, Jimmy.
I take it and I walk out. 
Take it back, Jimmy.
I get in my car and turn on the ignition. 
Don’t do it Jimmy.
I drive home. I get out of my car. I open the door. I walk into the bathroom. 
Don’t do it Jimmy.
I pull off my pants. 
Pull up your pants Jimmy.
I squeeze the lube into my hand. 
Wash it off your hands, Jimmy.
I turn to the first page. 
Close the fucking porn mag Jimmy.
I start jerking off like the world is going to end. 
Damn Jimmy, don’t go so hard, you are going to loose you penis.
I explode all over the girls face in the magazine. 
Fuck, Jimmy, Now look at her face.
I fall on the floor. I start crying. 
You need help, Jimmy. Serious Fucking help.