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Tag Archives: sex

Satsumas anyone?

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So, after a day yesterday of mortifying prejudice, mimicry and full-contact wrestling (should have worn the ‘Hulkmania’ vest Bman thoughtfully got me for Xmas). Then had to administer first-aid to the First-Aider who accidentally shut the safe door onto her own thumb, with nothing more than a serene, “Ooooh” (I would have said more than “Ooooh”, I can tell you that for nothing!)

Plus side (cos you should always look for one) was that the WWF manoeuver seemed to click my bad back into place temporarily.  Let’s hope it lasts.

Today though was my turn for wardrobe malfunction, albeit in a slightly less spectacular way than ‘Roundersgate’, when I held a conversation with my Boss for 5 minutes before being discreetly told by my friend that my dress was undone to way past the bra line.  Brilliant! 

Thank goodness I hadn’t been asking for a payrise cos you don’t get anything for a pair in this game my love especially not with my shit tits!

“Nice too see you. to see your tits”


The cost of felt vaginas these days….

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Apropos of nothing, did you know that it’s £45.99 to buy a set of fuzzy felt female reproductive organs & another £45.99 for the male? 


No way jose – I’ll pop down to Boyes for some remnants and knock up a brace of his ‘n’ hers toilet & baby parts myself for a fraction of the price Ta very much.

Yes.  It’s me.  I’m here again…


Spent Saturday night at a 40th birthday BBQ where age did not necessarily equate to wisdom. Banana flavoured shots were imbibed after cider and white wine and (in some cases) vodka, made from polish potatoes, from a very dusty bottle of dubious origin. 

If you wondered how that panned out, it looked a little something like this:-



(The dog was unharmed despite getting sat upon by the Bman – ditto the gazebo, when he fell over some garden chairs and roly- polied into it!)

My friend had floated Big Fat Gypsy Wedding as an idea for a theme and I was thinking Thelma Modine, giant twinkly frocks etc.  It seems that what she actually meant was; Come and get shitfaced & dance around a burning oil drum in my back yard and check out my new caravan”.   It was great, we had a fab time right up until it was time to go home and then it all went a bit Pete Tong.   All I will say on that matter is that Bman has apologised several times and we’ve agreed that next time we go out anywhere together I will get a taxi home & leave him to his own devices!   :-/

There’s no pics of me BTW because, as per, I was behind the lens.  Bman may have some pics on his phone but none of me dancing or falling over because neither of those things happened.

Quote of the evening had to be:-

 “Wow! Let’s get a caravan, cos it’s got a clock”.

or possibly:-

 “You know what’ll sort that gimpy shoulder out mate?……….a wank!”

Thank you, Doctor Kildare!

Paris Hilton? Nope… Leeds

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We have our annual Mr & Mrs Bman’s overnight Love-In booked for this weekend at Leeds Hilton. 

I say ‘Love-in’ when what I actually mean is:-  a cursory bunk up before heading to the leisure suite for a swim, steam and sauna; then a bedroom picnic before finding a bar in town for a drink or 3 then back to the hotel and possibly another quick backscuttle before (or during) ‘Match of the Day’. 

Wild times!


cartoon from Google images


So it’s a little like being at home but someone else makes the bed in the morning and you get to go for a swim and not have to make the childerbeast any tea. 

I highly recommend it to anyone who has been married or in a de facto relationship for more than 5 years.   Keeping the dream alive and all that.


PS:  My sister is coming over to mind the kids just in case anyone was thinking of calling Social Services.  We don’t leave them home alone with a Grab Bag of Monster Munch and 2 litres of Coke and leave them to it or anything.