Graceless

Over the weekend a friend took me to a football match. Only in a pub of course. It was crowded and partisan. Both sides had their support. This, I'm told, comes from living in a place that doesn't have a team in the proper league.

She was very partisan. I didn't give a fuck who won.

I learned some of the football facts.

One team had a very loyal manager who even changed his name to that of his team.

Footballers don't all have thickish shortish sticky out dicks. They wear a support that make them look that way.

Hot footballers wear blue and the ones in red kick them for being hot (I think).

Before you start playing football or come on as an extra, you have to play with your penis a bit.

Footballers are really wet and grizzle like me when they fall over.

All Manchester's players are cunts. The hot one is the biggest cunt of all, but he is also the best player, which I suppose must be some compensation.

Arsenal's players are 'in fact' "a different class" but that is not a universally accepted 'fact'.

The offside rule has only to be explained once, isn't that difficult and is, I presume, covered in mystery by men so that we think they are clever.

Some men whose team loses are so terribly disappointed that they lose interest in my friend's breasts, which were flashed as promised on her team achieving victory.

Other men, even in defeat, seem bouyed by the sight of "gooner tits!!"

Watching football looks painful unless you don't give a fuck about it.

I don't know when to "keep my big fucking mouth shut" when the wrong team scores a goal, even after I have been warned not to taunt losers.

People take football quite seriously.

So I was thinking about men. This isn't particularly unusual. I remember reading once that artists of all people have easily the highest sex drives. I wouldn't have thought this of myself but I don't really know how often you think of sex, or want it, or do it.

There was also some other bit about artists being least able to deal with their sexual feelings, but I didn't read that. I find one piece of information per sitting is just fine.

But back to the point. Men. What's hot and what's not. Not in appearance, we've done that. Things they say and do.

Touching their dicks out of context. NOT
(It might be worth mentioning that I was eating an almond croissant.. how fucking decadent do THEY taste.. in the cafe this morning and the guy with the sausage egg and chips spent his "breakfast" with fork in one hand, balls in the other. I started out wandering if he would let me taste his sausage and ended up going "eww" as I sometimes do. Hot guy making himself not. Prompted the blog)

Touching them in context. HOT
Yes. I will admit watching a guy masturbating his huge well formed penis before getting down to it is quite fun. Plus... it saves me doing it. Come to think of it I was disappointed I didn't get to see the harshest girl's collection of wankers.

Wearing sunglasses indoors. NOT
Posers are never cool, never sexy. It comes off as trying too hard. As an ex-poser myself (around the time of the revelation in the mirror as a teenager that "Hey, you don't look that bad Gracie" but before the soon to follow realisation that "You also ain't all that") I can also say it doesn't work too well for girls.

Big muscles. NOT
This is a personal thing, and there may be them as disagrees with me. You may think I have digressed from the given remit of "things they say and do". But no. You should know better than to correct me. Oversized muscles do, to this eager spectator's eye, look decidedly unattractive, but what worries me more is what compelled them to go and get them. It's not like you can send off for them.

Saying "Did you come?". NOT

Saying "Did you come or WHAT!" HOT
Both self evident I think.

Saying "Is my cock big enough?" NOT
This can go in with a whole list of "pander to my delicate ego" comments. Was I the best, biggest, bigger than him, better than him, did it go on long enough etc etc

Saying "You better be worth the effort." before the business. HOT

Partridging. NOT
Although it is funny.

Using the term babe, hun etc NOT
It also marks you as being in your sixties, at least emotionally.

Understanding we DON'T want to be cuddled all night. You're very big. We're very small. You crush us. HOT

Knowing to leave by, at the latest, the next morning. HOT
It's not a relationsip, it's a fuck. We have lives. We have things to do. If it's been a particularly successful union, then it may be in order to run over the road for a morning roll before leaving.

Being prepared to try absolutely anything, and not being intimidated that it was me who suggested it. HOT

Coming up with something that makes me gulp. HOT
Imagination is good. New scary ideas are good.
And will those of you at the back stop making things up for yourselves.

Asking for my number NOT

Giving me your number HOT

Premature ejaculation. HOT
Yes I know. Surprise isn't it? Obviously has the proviso that the dong in question is soon rock hard and ready for a second, longer bash.

Oral sex freaks. NOT
Yes it is quite nice to have a young buck poking his tongue out at you. But two things. Stop eventually. Use some imagination down there. The biggest problem in the world today are these guys who think.. and will tell you... that they will go down on you for hours... like it's a good thing and makes them a superstud. There are some guys who latch on down there like some kind of perverted leech. Pull feverishly at their hair, screaming, "No... no... NO Oh STOPPPP!!" and they think you are coming.... We shall call them Henry. They have everlasting suction and a soppy grin.

Remember this. If it's taking you hours to get the job done you aren't doing it right.

Thinking it's OK to have a small dick. NOT
One of the biggests problems the world has to face in this day and age is guys who are under endowed thinking that they can satisfy a woman in the way a guy with a big dong can. They can't of course, but it doesn't matter. I'm sure I couldn't satisfy you the way that, oh I don't know...who's "in"..Firm Cotton?
But I don't care.

Not overly bothering that they have a small dick HOTtish

Doing your best and having fun. HOT

Wearing open toed sandals. NOT

Commenting on my appearance. NOT

Commenting on my appearance. HOT
Yeah I know....

Wearing condoms NOT

Wearing them anyway HOT

Cultivating a decent head to the thing. HOT
You know... the bit that MarcLuterian uses to stop his hand slipping off when he's wanking. Make an effort to get it bulbous and mushroomy. Without looking ridiculous of course. I'm not sure how it's done, but it's not my job to know. One of the biggest problems in the world today is men going around with cocks that have no head to speak off.

Guys who think sex is a competition. NOT

Guys who win the competition HOT

to get to live in a large country residence?

I ask because that chapter seems to be missing from my copy of "The Girls Guide To Life".

Ericdb asks if it hurt when I pinched my nipples.

Well I didn't. And the reason I didn't is because I'm not a big pervert. (Make whatever inference you choose from that.)

As I recall, I may have briefly wiggled one with one finger. Not as a perversion, more to check the degree of stiffness. Out of curiosity.

And the reason I did that and no more was because I'm not a big pervert.

Men always seem to get excited when you talk about your stiff nipples. I don't know what's up with them

Even the gentlemanly londonlad wants to tell me his dinkle has shrunk.

Orak's reply to him disturbed me and I won't pretend it didn't.

(Dawnie.. people are going to think you've seen my nipples in the shower!)

I was busy working this morning from about 3am through to 10am, then I had a cucumber and salad cream sandwich. It was an experiment that didn't work and I can confirm that there is no edible green food.

Also, I need to shop.

Anyway, sandwich bitten and spat out I decided to have a shower as I was a bit painty and had a doctor's appointment.

This is where the tawdry tale takes a terrible turn. There was no hot water.

Immediately I phoned my landlord. He asked me "Is the two doddle twiddle da dee dah dah?"

"I don't know."

"Have you inviggled tiddle winkle winkle poo poo?"

"Look, I can turn it on and off. When I turn it on no hot water comes out."

He did an old man sigh and said he'd be round later.

I'm going to put your mind at rest now, with a flash forward a la Tarantino. He did come round later and I now have hot water again. Apparently the flibble was ingesticled.

But oh it was so funny. After he fixed it he said, "Do you want to jump in and make sure it works before I go?". How we both laughed at the idea of him seeing me nude.

But back to this morning. I felt I couldn't go to the doctor painted, I was probably a bit sweaty too.

Now I haven't had a cold shower for years. I had some when I was a young teenager, because they were "good for me".

Anyway, it really really REALLY makes your nipples poke up, doesn't it? Mine went like... HUGE.

Just saying...

I was chatting with a friend of mine about swearing.

She and I both do it.

Does it make your dinkle go big to imagine us saying "Poo" and "Bloody"?

It reminded me of something my grandmother told me. People who follow closely may know that two of my grandparents were the best adults in my childhood.

Apparently, in my preschool years, my mother and grandmother were having a posh tea and I was sat on the floor with my skirt up, looking in my pants. My mother said, "Grace what are you doing?"

I apparently (allegedly) looked up with a big beaming smile and said, "I'm looking at my cunt mum." It's strange that I can now remember her anger, but not the incident.

It says much about each of them that mum blew a gasket, and my grandmother told me the story many times down the years, always ending up with tears of laughter running down her cheeks.

I decided to have a sausage and egg roll tonight. It's an extra long toasted hot dog roll, with a jumbo sausage in, not a frankfurter, just a normal sausage. The egg is an omelette that goes the length of the roll. It's topped with a sauce. I don't know what goes in it, but imagine smooth Branston pickle with chili.

Anyway, I made my way to the takeaway and had to pass a rowdy public house and accidentally stepped in.

I achieved a long held ambition by calling the guy behind the bar "barkeep".

"Barkeep, half a pint of your best cider if you will, my man!"

"Mazluvawight?"

I guess that late they expect idiots. So I nodded.

None of this is the point. Just explains how I got to the pub.. or rather why.

I walked for any particularly inquisitive readers.

It turns out the big guy with the bald head and a disturbing amount of tattoos can hold me over his head, keeping his arms straight for ten minutes.

For this he won the princely sum of twenty pounds. And I got a grown up full pint of cider, because "The little 'un's a good sport ain't she?".

When I'd left, to get my big roll, I heard a huge roar of laughter come from the pub.

I think I may be a figure of fun round my way.

I haven't blogged overly much lately. Sorry and all that.
Also not posted or chatted as much as usual. Sorry and all that.

(Like you care.)

I had a minor.. if I was a horse it would be a wind operation I'm told.... and now I'm supposed to be able to run up the stairs so much faster.

Hmmm. OK.

So anyway... turns out I could use my magic laptop in the day room so I stayed in touch and made the odd insult or comment here and there.

I became friendly with a nurse who said, "Yes it's OK. No porn though. Haha!"

To cut a long story short her innocent comment led to her having a look at the board and site with me. She was interested enough that she sat and ate her sandwiches with me. (Cheese and celery. Very strange.)

The willy photos (her term) didn't inspire her, "See plenty enough naked bodies in this job I can tell you...."

She loved the challenges though and the photos connected with them, and started getting into the blogs. She claimed she will join and have a good look. I know from comments by other nurses that the word went round the nurses' hut or whatever they have.

So, I was spreading the word even when poorly.

That's the kind of thing a moderator would do isn't it?

Just saying....

I watched some Big Brother over the summer, mostly because if I didn't I would have nothing to talk to Mrs Townsend about... except sex and porn.

There would be factions trying to appeal to different demographics. The hot guy, the girl who wouldn't be pushed around etc etc.

Boys do best in the programme. Mrs T forecast that the guy with the biggest cock would win because "They always do".

It seems that on one occasion in the past a woman won though! (And once even a transexual!!) Overshadowing all this though was the self congratulation of last year because for the first time a black guy (shock horror!!!) had won.

Job done they were able to return to a nice white middle class winner this year. A sweet Welsh girl. She beat a Scottish guy in the final. I understand the Scottish/Irish/Welsh viewers tend to vote for "their own" while the English tend not to be bothered.

The ethnic minorities were kicked out early this year, and apparently racism, and indeed sexism, is quite an issue on the programme, and has been over the years.

Even I heard about the situation, last year, where contestants were thrown out for being racist. At the first realistic opportunity the black guy I mentioned above was voted in as winner.

The typical voters, perhaps not the best educated and intelligent members of society, felt they had hit a milestone by voting a black winner. This condescending attitude was overlooked by most because they "meant well". And it was a "reaction".

Choosing the winner of Big Brother based on his colour proved the voters weren't racist, you see.

Many people said "Thank goodness we finally have a black winner."

This year someone claimed, "Thank fuck we got a white Big Brother winner again. And a girl too."

Because the moment had passed.

What's the difference between girlfruits and a Christian's penis?

I was messaged and asked if my blogs are 100% true or embellished.

They are all true. My original reason for having this blog was to support Abbie and her efforts to make a place for women who like to be a little bit naughty now and then.

Since then I have begun to enjoy using it almost as a catharsis. It's certainly the closest I would ever have to a diary. I challenge myself to be honest in it, which is why there is the occasional unexpected (especially to me) confesson.

Sometimes the detail is "as best remembered" often due to alcohol. The dialogue should be read as "words to the effect of" because I, at least, can't remember that sort of shit. I think all my fellow bloggers would agree that if it ain't true what's the point in doing it? Abbie doesn't even pay us...

So there you have it... (it's actually vaguely arousing that anyone might think my life is exciting enough to sound like it might be made up).