Ah the passion of new love. You are irresistible to each other. You can't look at the object of your desire without finding them desirable, without wanting to jump on them and get downright dirty with them. WOOF! They're gorgeous, and you're the luckiest person alive.
Seven months into a relationship and it's still the same as day one, moreso in fact as each time you're with them, you notice something else about them that you find absolutely adorable.
It's great.
What's even better is that you can get away with anything and still be attractive. It's been a bit chilly since we entered November and on Friday night, I couldn't cope with bedtime in the buff. I started off with pyjamas, but my feet were freezing and my dear Trump donated some bedsocks. Still no joy - or warmth - and as I shivered me timbers right to my core, I took her dressing gown and draped it on top of the duvet. Our hands were too cold for consolatory cuddles - the shock would've killed us - and the shivering continued. As a last resort, I took my hooded top from the chair, put it on and zipped it up. Warmth finally enveloped me, I fell into a deep slumber.
You wake at 6am to kisses and cuddles. You are boiling hot.
It's amazing that, even at your least attractive, somebody can still love you.
Anyway, that was Friday night; it's been a lot warmer since. So much so that, back at Casa Sniffy, it was so fucking hot when had to shut our windows to block out the noise and smoke that resulted from a six hour barrage of fireworks during last night's Guy Fawkes Night celebrations. It was nice to see that the fuckwits next door had left a load of whites washing pegged out for the duration. Thick cunts.
Remember, remember, the 3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th and 7th of November... oh, and don't forget Diwali, Eid and New Year too.
Fucking fireworks. They are wonderful spectacular things. Bonfire Night (Guy Fawkes Night) used to be really special when it was just one night: we'd get some crappy Standard fireworks and stand with a sparkler while Dad tried to get a Catherine Wheel to work. They fizzed and putted and crackled; they weren't the best, but they were fun. These days, the fucking things are so loud that it sounds like you're under mortar attack in Basra. And, because of our multicultural society, or so we're told, they're available from September onwards and not just the week up to 5th of November.
Should the sale of fireworks be banned? I don't think so, but it should be restricted to people who have to work, who appreciate that having the frigging things going off at 3am isn't much fun when you have to be up in the morning.
What a life
I'm sure it's time for one of Connie's What a life gems. I imagine. She's currently acting as mediator for her two nieces whose mum is very seriously ill. I wouldn't mind her telling us about these family traumas, but it's the fact that she always draws comparison between me and Bomb that really pisses me off. Bomb is mental and under the influence of hormones, so anything I say to her is justified.
Bomb has decided to go down the washable nappy route for her little one. Mental. Get yourself some fucking pampers, nutcase; your life is going to be difficult enough as it is without washing baby poo down the lav and soaking shitty nappies for hours.
She had her 20wk scan last week and I can confirm that she is definitely carrying a belly full of arms and legs. The misery guts didn't want to find out its sex though, so I'll have to wait till it's out before I can start calling it Cosmo or Allegra (my names, not hers). Why not find out if you can?
8 comments:
Wow, snuggles through a down vest? Trump must be very enterprising. Since I've lost weight, I've discovered that I'm not as warm as I used to be. These days it's flannel pajamas, socks, flannel sheets, quilt, and down comforter on the bed as I shiver uncontrollably.
And here are more holidays we don't have here. From what I understand about Guy Fawkes & the whole bonfire scenario, there are lots of fireworks and burning people in effigy involved, yes?
Cosmo and Allegra? Where are you getting your names, lunatics-r-us? Do you want the poor earthangel to be mocked for life? Unless these names are popular in Britain, like Guy Fawkes or something.
What I always had found enjoyable during the cold nights was waiting until my girlfriend was almost asleep, then putting my freezing hands on her back. Sounds mean, I know, but she was a bitch.
A friend of mine just had a baby last week and is doing the cloth diaper thing too.... freaks.
Yes, Cosmo and Allegra, what's wrong with that?
Guy Fawkes actually changed his name, but I can't remember whether Guy Fawkes was the original or the changed one. And as much as the tradition goes, you're spot on. He was the one who was caught in an attempted plot to blow up the Houses of Parliament during the state opening in sometime way back, 160-something or other. They hanged, drew and quartered him, then burned what was left. KABOOM! If only somebody would be successful with such a plot today (not against the Queen, against the fuckers in Parliament).
I've been cold since I lost 5st over the course of 6 months once. Never recovered.
Washable nappies, I ask you. What happens if you're out round the shops for a day, or just out for a day? Are you supposed to carry shitty nappies around with you until you get home? These naive fools. The disposables are no worse for the environment overall, but they're much better for convenience when life is quite difficult enough as it is.
But the ones she's going to use are just those that you empty the lumps out of an give to a company to wash for you. I'd be more worried about what I was getting back in return. you might get sme nappy that Harry or Emily (worse names than Cosmo and Allegra if you ask me) has had the squits in. A grey nappy. yuk yuk yuk!
Cold weather sucks. home I can deal with but for 9 hours in the office, no fun. Our office is so cold it's uncomfortable.
Yeah, but you still have to carry them around with you on your days out.
My office is super-heated. The other one is also super-heated, but this means nothing when all the menopausal women fling open windows in the middle of winter. So much for conserving energy.
Awwww And they even love us when we're dripping in snot and dying with flu!
Love fireworks but only the organised displays, hate the little fuckers that let them off in the streets.
I'm with you, find out what is in there before it comes out wailing so you can tell it by name to pipe down. ;-)
And better yet...if they're not just gorgeous. They're FILTHY gorgeous.
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